To my first dog, I owe you an apology

And a thank you, a million times over.

I am sorry for the times I’ve asked you to be something you’re not.

When I’ve looked into those eyes—so soulful, so intelligent—and have still decided to push you further not in the name of growth but in the name of my own ego.

I am sorry for the times I’ve resented you.

When I’ve let my mourning over not getting the dog I “dreamed” of turn into bitterness and regret—even when you tried so hard. Even when every fiber of your being vibrated, trying to please me, when heartbreak shadowed your face as you felt my disappointment.

I am sorry for the times I’ve lost my temper.

When I’ve given you unfair leash corrections. When I’ve raised my voice. When I’ve let little things—misunderstandings, surprises, inconsequential details—grow to enormous size in my head, poisoning an entire hour or day or week, pushing us apart, taking us further from our goals instead of closer.

I am sorry for the times I’ve been a bad leader.

When I’ve put you in situations I never equipped you to navigate. When I’ve been unclear in my communication. When I’ve given you freedom… then been upset with how you’ve handled it. When I’ve been inconsistent, unreliable, not trustworthy.

I am sorry for the times I’ve justified things I knew weren’t right.

When I’ve turned off my empathy, looked the other way, ignored the pit in my stomach, become a professional mental gymnast to wiggle my way out of discomfort I needed to feel. When I haven’t asked thoughtful questions. When I’ve blindly accepted advice given in poor faith. When I’ve pretended to be doing things for you that I was really doing for myself.

But I am not sorry for never giving up.

For getting up again, day after day, week after week, throwing old things away, reaching hopeful hands for better. For circling back to what matters most, always, even if it’s taken hours of pain to remember. For sticking with you, and yes, for asking you to stick with me.

I am not sorry for how far we’ve come.

For the mountains of growth I see in the rearview mirror. For the progress that makes me giddy (and protective) and proud. For the things we can do that I never imagined! For the fact that we are new new new and better better better but still so very much ourselves.

I am not sorry for all the things we’ve learned.

The small realizations and the overwhelming epiphanies. The ideas that apply directly to our own lives—and the ones that have enabled me to understand the creatures around us. The hard truths, the comforting realities, the new questions.

I am not sorry for the life we share today.

Where we play, and laugh, and experience the world together. Where you romp off leash. Where you shove your favorite toys into my hands. Where we curl up in bed at night, pressed against each other, heartbeats aligned, breath in tune, satisfied with another day of love. So much love.