Dog Gone Grief! What My Dog Taught Me About Love, Loss and Longevity.

From the Good Grief Vault

Here is another one of my favorite blogs that I wrote back in 2022. At the time, I was living an entirely different life. For one, I had a dog who was like a daughter to me. Now in 2025, my dead mom gets outshined by my deep grief of missing my dog-daughter. But I have no regrets, because she taught me so much.

Lessons in Life, Love, and Grief—From My Dog

[At the time of writing this] my dog daughter [was] one and a half years old. Some days I call her Maggie, other days it’s Maggiford, Maggalicious, Mags, Maggurt, Ma’am, or Miss Stinky Butt.

From the moment she arrived, I knew she needed professional support. Her mix is heavy on the Weiner but pure-bred mayhem.

She was:

✅ Doing parkour off my windows (and my sleeping father)

✅ Peeing in every crevice

✅ Darting out of doors like an escape artist

✅ Bad-bitch dry humping every bed I got her

I read the books. I followed Cesar Millan on Instagram. I tried everything. But nothing worked. Thankfully, I found a top-tier dog trainer who demystified canine behavior and helped me build a more loyal, symbiotic relationship with Maggie-Pie.

In learning how her brain works, I also had some powerful realizations about my own life and behavior.

The lessons are threefold. These are my stories.

(Bung Bung - SVU jingle 🎵)

Lesson 1: Master the Basics Before You Practice the Advanced Version

The Dog Training Perspective

At the start of puppyhood, it seems like everyone else has a well-behaved, calm-mannered dog… and you have a wild minx.

"Good luck with this one. I don’t understand why she can’t walk in a straight line like every other dog. She has so much energy—I’m not sure it’s ever going to happen."

That’s what my ex said to our trainer during week one. The lead trainer looked him dead in the eye and said:

"Excuse me, sir, but walking in a straight line, politely, tethered to another mammal, is an extremely advanced skill. Nowhere in her DNA does it say: 'Obey the two-legged sack of skin who purchased me.' "

Dogs don’t instinctively loose-leash walk. That’s a learned and well-practiced behavior.

The Life & Grief Perspective

In life, love, and especially in grief, we tend to compare ourselves to others:

"Why can’t I be the person who walks around Demi-Lovato-Confident, handling life with ease, head held high, totally unbothered?"

When I was deep in grief, I saw people who had also experienced major losses walking around like elder pups, snoot in the air, focused and untethered. Meanwhile, I could barely hold my attention span for more than a few seconds.

But what I was really doing was comparing my Grief Chapter 1 to someone else’s Grief Chapter 12.

It’s not that I lacked the ability to take care of myself. I just had never been taught how to process loss. The same way Maggie had never been taught how to sit still or “walk pretty.”

Now, in my Grief Chapter 10 [at the time of editing this it's been 10 years since I lost my mom and 504 days since I've last seen Maggie], when people ask me, “How do I survive in this world without my person (or my pup)?”

My answer is simple:

Life after loss (or major change) is an advanced skill. It’s a compilation of learned, adjusted, and well-practiced coping behaviors.

The Work: Start With the Basics

Instead of forcing Maggie to walk around the block with sexy squirrels competing for her attention, I started with a five-minute walk in the backyard. We reduced distractions like the neighborhood’s satanic Chihuahua and focused on tiny wins.

The same applies to practicing healthy habits and prioritizing your needs.

If you want to ask for help, but it feels impossible, start small.

👉 Instead of forcing yourself to open up to five different people, ask one trusted friend to go on a walk with you.

👉 Instead of tackling an hour of therapy homework, journal for five minutes.

Puppy steps eventually turn into big-baller, snoot-in-the-air strides. And hey, reward yourself with some bacon, too. You deserve it. 🥓

Lesson 2: Square Up, Be Clear, and Leave Little Room for Error to Get What You Want

The Dog Training Perspective

[At the time of writing this] Maggie [had] some basic manners (like not paw-punching a man in his doodle berries upon greeting), so she and I started trick training.

At a recent class, we were instructed to give non-verbal commands using only hand gestures.

Maggie knows hand signals pretty well, but she also has major [Mani Gen Energy] —which is actually what makes her a dog, I think. She's multi-passionate and gets distracted very easily.

During our lay down exercise, she started to crouch but got distracted by her Husky BFF. So, I shifted my body, got right up in her grill, cheese in hand, and made the gesture again.

This time? She nailed it.

"It’s all over for you b!tches when my mom brings out the Trader Joe’s mozzarella." –Maggie

After we finished, the lead trainer asked: "Can anyone tell me what Paris just did to cheat for Maggie?"

Umm… excuse me? Cheat?!

The trainer continued:

"We should all cheat in this way to help our dogs succeed. It leaves little room for error."

The Life & Grief Perspective

In life, love, and especially in grief, we are constantly guessing:

• What should I be feeling?

• What should I be doing?

• How do I ask for what I need?

The best way to reduce guesswork and frustration in relationships?

👉 Square up. Be clear. Leave little room for error.

We assume people should just know how to support us. But NO ADULT was taught how to read minds. Honest and direct communication is an advanced skill worth practicing.

The Work: Make It Explicit

1️⃣ If you don’t know what you need, start by getting honest with yourself.

2️⃣ If you need support, practice expressing it clearly:

• Instead of “I think I may leave at 8 PM,” say: “I can stay until 8PM.”

• Instead of “I’m struggling right now,” say: “I could really use a hug.”

Over time, these requests become second nature—for both you and the people who love you.

Lesson 3: No Thresholds Should Be Crossed Without Your Permission

The Dog Training Perspective

Our trainer told me on day one:

“Nothing kills more dogs than open doors.”

If a dog learns they can freely walk in and out of thresholds (like doors leading to traffic, the woods, or a basement with dangerous tools), they often end up lost or injured. Boundaries save lives.

I will write that again and leave so much white space on this blog post so you really read it.

Boundaries. Save. Lives.

The Life & Grief Perspective

Boundaries also save friendships, respect, time, energy, and even our own mental health.

Unfortunately, people push back against boundaries—just like Maggie did when I started asking her to sit before exiting a door.

Many people see boundaries as abandonment, rather than an act of self-respect.

For example, when I stopped drinking at together, in early grief days, I got reactions like:

❌ “Wow, I guess I’ll just be the alcoholic on my own tonight.”

❌ “You're not gonna drink on girls night? Lame.”

❌ “Are you pregnant?”

People’s reactions to our boundaries reflect their own inner world.

The Work: Decide What Thresholds Shouldn’t Be Crossed

1️⃣ Determine what boundaries you need.

2️⃣ Use clear language to communicate them.

3️⃣ Stay consistent, even if people resist.

Not everyone will respect your boundaries. Some people may need to be removed from your life entirely. And if your dog straight-up refuses to obey thresholds…spend the money on a trainer. It's better than a vet bill.

Long live the puppies. 🐶