Why I Want To Live The Rest Of My Life Like It’s The Longest Goodbye

A tribute to the best dog

Next week I will probably have to put down my old dog. This will likely be the last weekend I have with him. So I’m going to try to do all his favourite things with him over the next few days.

He loves going on adventures in the car; he loves barking at motorbikes, he loves going to the park, he loves food and he most of all he loves spending time with me.

This weekend I will leave everyone else at home, put him in the car, pop into McDonald’s Drive Thru and take him to the park.

• I will do my best to find some motorbikes for him to bark at while we drive to the park even if it means I have to take the long way round.
• I will let him off leash in the park as soon as we arrive — it’s an off-leash park so it’s allowed.
• I will let him chase as many hadedas as he can find (for those non-South Africans, I will let you google what a hadeda is).
• I will let him play in the stream.
• I will let him run or toddle around for as long as he wants to and when he’s done, I will feed him the burger patty and some fries.

And I will sit with him in the winter sun light and tickle his specked tummy.

I won’t worry about everyone else waiting for us at home. I won’t rush this time with him. Everyone can wait; they will cope without us for as long as we need. He doesn’t know what I know. He can’t hear the loudly ticking clock in my head, counting down the hours we have together. At least, I don’t think he can, but maybe he knows.

I need this time with him to start my long goodbye.

He’s been in my life for so long that I can’t imagine not seeing him every day. He’s been around longer than my husband and my kids. I need the long goodbye to have any hope of being in some way prepared for the day that I know is fast approaching. As much as this time is for him, it’s also for me.

How would I live my last day?

And in thinking about how I can make his last days as meaningful as possible, I started thinking about my own mortality. Looking back on today, if you told me now that today had been my last day, would I be happy with how I spent it?

If I knew waking up this morning that today was my last day on earth, would I have been grumpy that the house alarm accidentally woke me at 4.30am when the cat set it off? Or would I have been grateful that everyone I love is present and with me?

Would I have been annoyed with my toddler twins drawing out the dressing process in my rush to get them to school? Or would I have savoured the conversations they were initiating in between pulling on every item of clothing?

Would I have been irritated with the disruptions to my day with family popping in or friends calling? Or would I have ensured I was fully present in those moments with the people who are important to me?

Would I have been frustrated by having to re-arrange my day to get the dog to the vet and pick up the kids almost simultaneously? Or would I have been thankful that I had the means and ability to do what needed to be done?

The time we have is truly fleeting and it’s sad that it usually takes a loss of someone or something we love to truly assess what’s important. We get so caught up in doing things that we can forget to focus on the things that matter.

My fitting tribute

This is why I will try to treat the rest of my life like the longest goodbye. I will try to live each day as if it was my last to ensure I am present for the things that matter.

At the end of each day I want to look back and be satisfied that I did what mattered each day with the people who matter to me. I know that some days I will fail. But I will keep trying, hoping that the increments add up to a significant life.

And I will do this in honour of the smartest, most loyal and most special dog. He was never “just” a dog to me and he is the catalyst to my intentional, significant life. And I can’t think of a more fitting tribute to this dog who has meant so much to me.

For now, I just want to enjoy my long goodbye with him.