Nothing Is Permanent

Nothing Is Permanent Charlie Rae is sleeping beside me, and I’m adjusting. Last night, I held her while I worked and cried, overwhelmed by the reality of her vestibular disease. She’s getting old—turning 10. It’s hard because she’s not just my dog; she’s been my companion through every change, every season of my life. Watching her slow down feels like a mirror reflecting my own life and the fleeting nature of time. This hurts because, while dogs bring immense joy, they also bring pain when the time comes to say goodbye. They offer unconditional love without judgment or expectation. Now, I’m trying to be present, to hold her, and to appreciate the moments we share. This bittersweet truth of love reminds me that deeper love leads to deeper ache, but that ache signifies something meaningful. I’m grateful for every moment with Charlie Rae, especially now, as we navigate this adjustment together.