Part 2: What Dogs Teach Us About Death, Loyalty, and the Afterlife

When I shared Milli’s story last week, many of you wrote to say you’re standing in that same uncertain space — loving an animal through illness while quietly asking:

Am I doing the right thing?
How will I know when it’s time?
What if I get this wrong?

These are not small questions. They’re the kind that wake you up at 2 a.m. when the house is silent and your dog is breathing beside you — and your heart suddenly feels very loud.

And right now, as Milli continues her journey, she’s teaching me something that sits right in the middle of all that fear:

Love is not about controlling the ending.
It’s about learning how to stay present inside it.

And she’s doing it in the most Milli way possible — like a warrior.

A Warrior’s Spirit: Living Fully During Illness

Milli is stable right now. Rebounding, even. And if you met her today, you would never guess she’s living with advanced kidney disease.

She still has opinions. Strong ones.

She still negotiates her meals like a tiny union representative.
(“No, not that texture. We discussed this.”)

And when I check in with her energetically, her message is unmistakable:

“I’m still here. Don’t treat me like I’m already gone.”

That’s the warrior spirit she carries — not a dramatic resistance to death, but a determined devotion to life while she’s in it.

Animals don’t sit around forecasting their decline. They don’t catastrophize lab numbers. They experience now. If they feel okay enough to enjoy a moment, they take it. Fully.

Watching Milli live this way is teaching me surrender — not the kind that means giving up, but the kind that says:

I trust this moment, even when I don’t know what comes next.

And that surrender becomes especially important as we start noticing changes.

Recognizing When a Dog May Be Approaching the End of Life

One of the most common questions I hear during animal communication sessions are:

“How will I know when my dog is getting close?”

And what people are really asking is:

How do I prepare my heart?

There is no universal checklist — every animal has their own rhythm — but there are patterns many guardians notice:

• The light in their eyes softens or dims
• Personality shifts — quieter, clingier, or withdrawn
• Refusal or indifference toward food
• A change in how they seek comfort
• A sense that their energy is weak or tired

Not frightening. Not urgent. Just different.

These moments aren’t alarms — they’re invitations.

They’re your dog saying:

“Stay with me here.”

And this is where fear often tries to rush the process. But when we slow down enough to observe instead of panic, we begin to hear what our animal is communicating beneath the surface.

Which leads us into the hardest — and most human — part of this journey.

The Tug-of-War Between Trust and Control

When illness enters the picture, most of us immediately try to manage the timeline. I admit, I did at first.

We research. We calculate. We monitor every breath like detectives solving a mystery called “Is it time?”

But animals are not measuring their lives in days remaining.

They are measuring connection.

Milli continues to show me that strength and surrender can live side by side. She fights for her good days, yet carries zero fear about what lies beyond them. Meanwhile, I’m the one learning to unzip my timeline.

Trust doesn’t mean we stop making decisions. It means those decisions come from relationship instead of panic.

And nowhere is that more emotionally charged than when we consider helping an animal transition.

Euthanasia, Compassion, and the Fear of “Too Soon”

If there is one fear that haunts loving pet parents, it’s this:

What if I choose wrong?

Too soon feels like betrayal.
Too late feels like guilt.

And many people carry that question long after their animal is gone, replaying the moment like a courtroom drama where they are both judge and defendant.

Here’s what animals consistently communicate:

They are far less concerned with timing than we are.

They care about intention. Presence. Love.

The dying process can be painful. Offering assistance when suffering outweighs comfort is not failure — it is compassion expressed in human form. Yes, it may ease your suffering too. That doesn’t make it selfish. 

Animals understand that our hearts break inside with these decisions. They feel the love beneath them — and that’s what stays with them.

And when their body is finished… the relationship doesn’t disappear.

It transforms.

Loyalty Beyond the Body: What Animals Teach About the Afterlife

If there’s one truth animals repeat again and again, it’s this:

Connection does not end with the body.

Milli carries a loyalty that feels bigger than physical life — a promise that our bond is not limited to time or biology. Animals experience transition not as vanishing, but as movement into another state of awareness.

They are not afraid.

Many describe it as familiar. Peaceful. A return.

Understanding this doesn’t erase grief — because grief is love with nowhere to go for a moment — but it softens fear. The bond continues. Communication shifts. Presence changes form.

And knowing this allows us to stop rehearsing loss… and return to the life still happening right in front of us.

Which is exactly where Milli keeps calling me back.

The Fear of Getting It Wrong — and the Gift of Presence

If you are loving a dog or cat through illness right now, you will question yourself.

You will wonder if you missed something.
You will second-guess decisions.
You will lie awake listening for breathing patterns like a late-night scientist.

This is what love looks like when it’s trying to protect something it cannot keep forever.

But animals don’t measure their lives by perfect timing.

They measure them by moments shared:

The quiet sitting together.
The gentle hand resting on fur.
The soft conversations no one else hears.

When caretakers invite their animals into the conversation — intuitively, emotionally, practically — decisions arise from partnership instead of fear.

And that is what animals trust most.

What Milli Is Still Teaching Me

Every day with Milli is an invitation to stay here — not in the imagined ending, but in the living present.

Her warrior spirit isn’t about defeating death.

It’s about choosing life, moment by moment, with complete trust in what she cannot control.

And in following her lead, I am learning that love doesn’t rush the ending.

It walks beside it.
Laughs in it.
Cries in it.
And stays anyway.

For now, she is here — teaching loyalty, surrender, humor, and courage in equal measure.

And when her journey shifts, our connection will not end.

It will simply change form.

Closing Reflection: Staying With the Love That Is Here

If your dog is aging or ill, know this:

There is no perfect decision.
Only loving attention.

Listen to their body.
Listen to their spirit.
Listen to the bond you share.

Whether your companion is a quiet soul nearing completion or a determined warrior like Milli, your role is the same:

Stay present. Stay compassionate. Stay willing to trust the relationship.

The dying process is not just about letting go.

It is about honoring the sacred time that remains — and allowing love to guide you through it.

And our animals, even now, are leading the way.

A Gentle Invitation

If you are sitting with questions about your animal — wondering what they’re feeling, what they want, or how to best support them — you don’t have to navigate that uncertainty alone.

Animal communication can bring clarity to moments that feel overwhelming. It allows your companion’s voice to become part of the conversation, helping you understand their comfort, preferences, and wishes with greater confidence and peace. I am here to help be your animal's voice so you don't have to worry what they want.  You can schedule your reading with me HERE