Two years ago, the meditation group I’m part of studied and followed the teachings in Stephen Levine's book A Year to Live. It’s a guided program in which you imagine that you have 12 months left to live and map out steps and follow exercises to help you be prepared logistically, emotionally, and spiritually. It can be intense, but it’s quite powerful.
Last fall, I took a six-week online course called Befriending Death. In it, we learned about and discussed topics such as caregiving, green burials, hospice, wills/trusts, and other end-of-life essentials.
Having parents in their 80s, the topic felt, and still feels, especially front of mind. I didn’t want to pretend that death wasn’t a part of life. I wanted to be as prepared as possible.
I was raised more or less without any rituals around death. My family was Jewish, but we didn’t sit shiva when any of my grandparents passed away. And we didn’t do it when my sister died.
I mentioned in my last post on Kacey Musgraves that I tend to process deep feelings and emotions through writing. Tapping into them has never come immediately. Decades of distrusting emotions — they tended to intensify, fade, and morph into different ones — kept me guarded. I’ve worked to become more open, but I still keep my foot on the back of the door, ready to shut it when things get too intense.
But this is less true when it comes to pets.
When I think about the deaths that have both hit me the hardest and taught me the most, it’s my dogs that come to mind.
Unless you are brand new to this newsletter (if so, welcome!), you know that three years ago, I changed careers and became a full-time dog walker. It’s been amazing, but what I hadn’t considered was how hard it might be when a client’s pup passes on.
This past week, one of my favorite dogs, Ruby, had to be euthanized after it was discovered she had systemic cancer. I had the chance to say goodbye, but that isn’t always the case for dog walkers. I have two other senior dogs who are likely in their last year or two, and as I only walk them occasionally, I may not learn of their passing until afterward. Thinking about this makes me sad, but thankfully, spending so much time with dogs every day reminds me to stay in the present.
As a form of honoring Ruby and, really, all of our beloved pets, whether it be cats, birds, turtles, or tarantulas, I want to share 5 favorite songs that celebrate our furry (and hairless) friends from times past and present. And with each song, I’m going to feature 5 important pups throughout my life.
I’d love to know what songs about a favorite pet you’d add to the list in the comments.
1. Jason Lytle - Ghost of My Old Dog
Jason Lytle (Grandaddy) has one of those voices that taps directly into my emotional core. Even when he’s not singing anything sad, I find myself often on the verge of tears.
I got to see him perform at a small club five or six years ago, right before the release of his debut solo album, Yours Truly, the Commuter. The event was a fundraiser for Muttville, a senior dog rescue organization where I had volunteered. During the show, Jason spoke of how his beloved pup Ezra May (I think she was a chihuahua) had recently passed. And as he performed “Ghost of My Old Dog,” a montage of images of his pet played on a screen behind him. It had half the crowd bawling.
He said he’d written an 11-minute instrumental suite in honor of Ezra May, and anyone who donated 20 dollars or more to Muttville would get a link to the song. Of course, I did that. Here’s a link to the suite on YouTube, and here’s how you can donate to one of the best senior dog rescue organizations in the world. I can’t find where to buy the track online or I’d share that link too.
This is Ruby. I was Ruby’s dog walker for the past year. She passed away last Friday (April 26) after it was discovered she had systemic cancer.
It took me two solid weeks of slow coaxing to get her to trust me to walk her. Her human had tried several dog walkers prior to me without success. Ruby had a scary bark and didn’t trust anyone other than her mom. But I persisted and, using lots of tasty treats, got her to let her guard down. It didn’t take long for her to become one of my favorite pups to take out on the trail. She’s crazy fast (as Vizslas usually are) but loved her treats too much to wander too far from me.
We were both lucky to get to spend so much time together her last year in doggie form.
2. Jordan Frank - Chasing Butterflies
This one gets me every time. Fuck you, Jordan Frank! If you play the video, keep tissues nearby. That’s all I can say about it.
This is Atticus. He was 12 and mostly deaf when I first started walking him in the fall of 2022. I would come in and have to wake him up for his walks. He was such a sweetie who loved to spend the entire walk scavenging for cat poop.
I was grateful to have the opportunity to know Mr. Atticus during his last 18 months of life.
3. Cat Stevens - I Love My Dog
I love my dog
As much as I love you
You may fade
My dog will always come through
I can’t include only sad dog songs here; that would be too much. With Yusuf/Cat Stevens, though, even happy songs sound like sad ones.
It’s a bit harsh to tell a partner that they may fade, but the dog will always come through. But hey, the truth is not always pretty.
This is a lesser known song from his catalog, from his debut Matthew & Son album.
How can I pass up an opportunity to include another pic of the ever-photogenic Bernie? I know we all think we have the best dog in the world, but objectively, I actually do.
When Bernie was three, my wife and I took him to the local street fair. The line to greet him was longer than the beer line. He’s not only the most outgoing dog I’ve ever known, he’s also the most outgoing mammal I’ve ever known.
4. The Beatles - Martha My Dear
You thought I was gonna include the version you’ve heard a million times? Not a chance. This Paul McCartney-penned ode to his Old English Sheepdog is wonderfully captured by Raoul Silver, who I could find very little information about. The YouTube clip has no details. Raoul looks like he’s probably 8 or 9. I am bad at guessing kids’ ages. Maybe he’s 35. Clearly, he’s an old soul who knows the best way to start a song is to ride in on a hoverboard.
I have to include Stella, the dog that came packaged with my wife. It was Stella who convinced Karen that I was worth giving serious consideration to as a partner. I had only had cats most of my adult life, as I lived in apartments and liked to travel. So it was Stella who turned me into a dog man.
Stella was especially good with kids. Especially good at gently taking away any food they might be eating, that is. I had to apologize to parents of crying toddlers on more than one occasion. Thankfully, all the adults said something along the lines of, “If food isn’t in the mouth, it’s fair game.”
5. Jane Siberry - Everything Reminds Me of My Dog
This one is so relatable. It’s one of those songs that could have a million verses, as every element of life would be appropriate. I hadn’t thought about Jane Siberry in decades until researching this piece. My friend Staci was really into her in college and got me into her music. Thanks, Staci!
Smiling at strangers reminds me of my dog
(Better let them know you're friendly)
The way people dress reminds me too
Pissing on their favorite tree
Sad things remind me of my dog
We adopted Cassie in 2009. Before I entered the picture, Cassie and Stella were neighborhood puppy friends. When Cassie’s human got terminally sick, he asked us if we’d consider adopting her when he was unable to take care of her. We agreed.
After a year or two, she took over the house, bossing us all around, including Stella. We called her Cassie Bassie, Schmassie, Me Lassie, and every other variation of “assie.”
She outlived Stella by two years.
Honorable Mentions: (click title for YouTube link)
Harry Nilsson - The Puppy Song
They Might Be Giants - Youth Culture Killed My Dog
Do you have a favorite song about celebrating the life of a pet? I open this up to cats, birds, rabbits, and any other animal that you consider a part of the extended family.
I’d love to hear stories of your favorite pets, so feel free to use the comments section to wax poetic about your childhood hamster, your 50-pound tortoise, your iguana, or any other pet.
Several months ago, I wrote about how my wife went through a ball python phase the year before we got Bernie. If you haven't read it, you can check out that post below.
Until we meet again,
Steve
This is so beautiful!
In 2019 I had to put down my 17 year old miniature dachshund. That was so hard!! I’d had her longer than my kids and they had all grown up with her.
This post is too cute for words. I loved reading about your furry friends along the way.