I don’t even know how to start this, because I feel like the absolute worst person in the world right now.
I didn’t even see it happening. It wasn’t intentional. But now that I realize it, I can’t unsee it.
I think I broke my dog’s heart.
For context, my dog—his name is Max—is old. Like, really old. We got him when I was still in high school, back when he was just this clumsy, oversized puppy who had no idea how big he was. That was over a decade ago. He’s been with me through college, through breakups, through losing my job, through moving out of my parents’ house, and every single major thing in my life.
And until recently, I thought I was being a good dog owner.
I feed him the best food I can afford. I make sure he’s comfortable. I take him to the vet regularly. I even bought him one of those orthopedic beds to help with his joints.
I thought I was doing everything right.
But then… I saw something yesterday that absolutely wrecked me.
Max used to be my shadow. He followed me everywhere. If I sat on the couch, he was right there next to me, shoving his big head under my arm for attention. If I lay in bed, he would curl up as close as he could get. He always wanted to be near me. And I used to love that.
But at some point, things changed.
And I don’t even know when.
I was sitting on the couch, scrolling through my phone, half-watching something on TV, when I felt this weird sensation—like I was being watched.
I glanced over, and there was Max.
Lying on his bed.
Watching me.
Not in the usual “I’m waiting for you to drop food” way, or even the “I hope we’re going for a walk” way.
Just… watching me. Quietly. Like he was waiting for something.
And that’s when it hit me.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I called him up onto the couch with me.
I couldn’t remember the last time I hugged him.
Or let him lay his big head in my lap while I absentmindedly scratched behind his ears.
I just… stopped.
I don’t know why. Maybe it was gradual. Maybe I got too busy, or too tired, or maybe I was subconsciously avoiding it because he’s getting older and I don’t want to think about how much time we have left.
But at some point, I stopped treating him the way I used to.
And he noticed.
Because as I sat there, staring at him, I saw something I had never seen before.
Resignation.
Not sadness, not anger. Just quiet acceptance.
Like he had already decided that this was just how things were now.
Like he was telling himself, “It’s okay. I understand. I’m old now. You don’t want me as much anymore.”
And I broke.
I called him over immediately, and for a second, he hesitated. Like he wasn’t sure if I really meant it. Like maybe he thought he had misread the situation.
When he finally got up and made his way over, I wrapped my arms around him, and I swear I felt his entire body relax into me like he had been waiting for this moment for so long.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. But it wasn’t long enough. Not even close.
And now I can’t stop thinking about all the moments I missed.
All the times he must have watched me from across the room, hoping I’d call him over.
All the times he settled into his bed instead of next to me because that’s what I had unintentionally taught him to do.
And now I don’t know what to do.
I mean, obviously, I’ve been making up for lost time. I’ve been giving him all the hugs, all the belly rubs, all the whispered “I love you”s I should have been giving him all along.
But I still feel like I failed him.
Because he never stopped loving me the way he always had.
I was the one who changed.
I guess the reason I’m posting this is because… I don’t know. Maybe someone else out there has an old dog, and they don’t even realize they’ve started pulling away the way I did.
Maybe someone else is too busy, too distracted, too caught up in life to notice the way their dog still watches them, still waits for them, still loves them just as much as they always have.
And maybe this can be a wake-up call before it’s too late.
Because if I could turn back time, if I could go back and undo all those months—maybe even years—of quiet distance, I would.
In a heartbeat.
For now, all I can do is make the time he has left the best it can possibly be.
So tonight, Max is getting all the hugs.
And tomorrow.
And the next day.
And every single day after that.
Because he deserves it.
Because he always has.
And because I never, ever want him to feel like he’s too old to be loved again.