Tennyson wrote, "It is better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all." What a powerful statement; yet so difficult to embrace.
I love to love. I truly believe I am a loving and caring person, and that's something God has blessed me with. However, it's the times when we've lost that we feel Tennyson really wasn't so wise.

My dog is in his old age. I have had him for over a decade now. I got him when he was just a wee little pup. I (along with the help of my gracious and patient parents) potty trained him and taught him how to sit, stay, and shake. For years, he has been my comfort. When he was younger, he would jump up on my bed and lay by my side through the entire night, curled up along the inside of my legs or right by my face. Then in the mornings, he'd wake me with a kiss, whether I liked it or not. For years, I've curled up beside him and hugged him when I needed a quiet companion. He's laid on my lap during family trips, and went for walks with me when I needed protection...although he was never much of a protector, since he's one of the friendliest dogs I've ever known.
There was one time I can remember like it was yesterday. Our family had just moved out of the home I had known for the past 8 years. That was the house I grew up in. There were markings on the wall of my height. I knew the creeks and cricks of the stairway so I could slither down them in the middle of the night without waking anybody up. And when I entered, it was home. Then, towards the beginning of my ninth grade year, we had to move out, as it was the church parsonage, and the new pastor would be moving in shortly. It was winter, I think near November. The ground was white with sparkling snow, and I needed to go for a walk. I brought my dog with, since after dark my mother liked knowing there was something "protecting" me while I was out. In that walk, I meandered towards the parsonage, since it wasn't that far of a walk. Once I got there, I remember staring through the window. My heart sank as I began to understand that it wasn't my home anymore, and it would never be again. I peered inside the window, glancing around my old kitchen...where the table used to be, where the refrigerator sat. And my heart broke into pieces. Tears streamed down my face as my body sunk down onto the cold cement steps. And Sonny came crawling up to me, put his paws in my lap, and gave my cheeks some of his slobbery-wet kisses. I hugged him like he was the only thing left in my life, and we just sat there, in front of my old house together. Just like I used to do with him, when I first brought him home as a puppy. I would lay down with him in the middle of the night as he whimpered, scared of his new surroundings. This time, it was me that needed the comforting, and he was there. It's as if he sensed it, or knew it. He knew that I needed him there sitting with me at that moment.

Lately, in the past year or so, he's gotten too old to really run around like he used to. It's more difficult for him to climb the stairs, go for a run, or even a long walk. And more recently, he's been not up to par. My dad took him into the vet, and what she said is that he has a genetic disease, found in Cocker-spaniel's like my own, which eats away all the red blood cells. He's also has a heart murmur, which is common in older dogs.

He's currently medicated, and is "feeling better." The vet doesn't know how long he really has. She said if things go well, he still has a number of years left. But if not, if my Sonny baby runs too hard or gets stressed, the heart can go into a cardiac arrest.

I've known this has been coming. And I haven't taken his presence for granted. But sometimes, I just have to wonder....is it really worth it to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all - especially when considering pets?
My heart hurts. My sonny baby has been my companion. He greets me with great joy when I come home, and sits in great sorrow when I leave. He has been a part of my life since I was twelve. He has been there through every move my family has made, and has laid on my lap as I've cried tears into his fluffy, white fur. He's been there to make me laugh with his silly quirks, and makes me smile from ear to ear when I mention "Do you wanna go for a ride?" in which he goes nuts, almost yelping out "yes, of course! oh take me with you! take me with you! Can I go?! Please mama?"

Saying goodbye to your dog is like having to say goodbye to a close member of your family. Your heart aches the same; You grieve the same; You miss their presence the same.

And although I do believe Tennyson was right, there are times when your heart will tell you it's not.