Sandy, and the Love That Remains

 

Sandy, and the Love That Remains

Loving a dog is one of the most beautiful and painful experiences there is. They love without conditions, without questions, and without holding anything back. And when their bodies grow tired, our hearts are the ones that struggle to catch up. These past days with Sandy have been heavy, quiet, and sacred all at once. I’ve wanted more time — of course I have — but I am deeply, profoundly grateful for the twelve extra days we were given. Twelve days of watching her rest, breathe, move slowly through the yard, and still look at us with that familiar love in her eyes. Time I know was a gift, not something owed.

This season has been heartbreaking, but it has also been honest. There is no pretending here. No rushing through grief. Just love, patience, and presence. Sandy hasn’t needed me to fix anything — only to sit nearby, to let her know she isn’t alone, even when she grumbles because I’m hovering too much. And that’s love too. Wanting to hold on while learning when to let go. Wanting comfort for them even when our own hearts feel like they’re breaking.

Out of this place of waiting, love, and gratitude came Abnormally Wonderful: Sandy and the Love That Remains. This book wasn’t planned. It was written because love demanded somewhere to go. It came from imagining how Sandy might see us — her people — and from trusting that love doesn’t disappear when time runs out. It remains. Always. This book is for anyone who has loved an animal deeply, for anyone sitting in the in-between space of hoping and grieving at the same time, and for anyone who understands that some of the purest love we ever experience walks on four legs.