Lily and the Octopus

by Steven Rowley

And this makes me cry even harder. All those nights she had no idea that I went to bed angry at her. Or if she had known, she has forgotten. Because dogs live in the present. Because dogs don’t hold grudges. Because dogs let go of all of their anger daily, hourly, and never let it fester. They absolve and forgive with each passing minute. Every turn of a corner is the opportunity for a clean slate. Every bounce of a ball brings joy and the promise of a fresh chase.

“I will love you forever. For the rest of my days and even all of the days after that.”

What was the point of grieving early? That’s what I will ask Jenny. If the point was to alleviate the grief I feel now—to make it malleable, to spread it thinner in a more manageable fashion—grieving early had utterly failed. If I was detaching weeks ago, shouldn’t it be easier to fully detach today?

That’s a lifetime, even if dog years pass too quickly. A heart is judged not by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.