Gray Hair by Lauren London

I have very conflicting emotions about aging. Sometimes, thoughts of aging excite me because of the new experiences I will have. And yet, it is a frightening thing. I am as young as I will ever be, but this isn’t just about myself; it’s about everyone around me. Watching loved ones age worries me. The awareness that family, friends, and even pets are not everlasting is cruel. The moment I saw my childhood dog starting to get gray hair on her chin, reminded me that things do not last forever.

My black lab Lucca came into my life when I was six years old. The second I saw her, we were instantly connected. Now a junior in high school, I have realized that Lucca has seen the ups and downs in my life and still has always been there for me. The bond you have with your dog is like no other. It’s irreplaceable, which is why the gray hair on her fur symbolizes so much to me: Lucca will not be with me forever.

But I can accept this upsetting reality. One moment I am walking Lucca, throwing her toys, and feeding her. A split second later her collar, leash, toys, and food bowls will be sitting out of sight. They’ll just be around the house while you mourn her, as a frequent reminder of the loved one you lost. The memories will consume you, with no end in sight. The moments of annoyance that Lucca caused will now bring me grief. I will miss her scratching at my door at five in the morning for breakfast, barking at anything that passes by my house, and begging to go outside only to want back in moments later. Guilt may set in, longing to hear that bark again. My house will remain and feel empty, with no four-legged distractions.

These thoughts fill my brain every time I am with my dog since her hair started turning gray. I know I should focus on being with her, but thoughts of losing her always creep into my mind. Aging will always be something conflicting for me, and although it is life, it will never get easier.