Earlier this month The Pongo Fund did the unthinkable. We helped a broken-hearted woman euthanize her dog. Some extra hard times meant she could not afford the cost to have someone else do it. And that made her feel even worse.

So she turned to us. Not because we are experts in this area. But because she heard that we always do our best to help. And thankfully sometimes doing our best is enough.

But I could not help but wonder, was there something else we could do to help avoid the unthinkable?

So when the call came our first goal was to not help end this dog’s life but to bring him more life. Could we instead help him get healed and well? To bring him many more sunny days ahead?

Because of suspected neurological issues we were ready with physical therapy and doggie wheels. For food we were ready to create special formulas to help ease digestion. For comfort we were ready to provide comfortable beds.

But sometimes enough is not enough.

No matter how good. No matter how much. Sometimes enough is just not enough. And those times suck.

And I knew that was the case as this dear woman told me the stories of her dog. From puppy to now. And she did so in such detail that I hung on every word. But not because of the specific moments she described.

No, I hung on every word because of the love she put into every word. It was simply how she described this dog that she loved and that she knew she needed to help.

Even though that meant saying goodbye to her 15 year friend.

As she spoke her tears stopped. And she just spoke. About this dog that was part of her family no differently than her own children.

And the whole time she spoke I listened. And I cried too. But I also agonized trying to come up with solutions. Any solution. Anything that I could do to help this dog.

And that’s when it hit me.

To help this dog I needed to help this woman let go. To let her know that her decision was the right one. And at that moment our call moved from saving a life to saying goodbye.

Because there were too many things that could not be fixed. And it was time. Her dog needed her to help him now like never before.

Her sweet friend crossed the Rainbow Bridge and is now running on rainbows and sleeping in clouds. He is playing. He is running. Legs that stopped working long ago are young again. Chasing tennis balls. Treats galore.

A few days later I followed up to see how she was doing. She said she was doing ok. We talked for a while and we laughed a bit too.

And then she apologized to no one in particular for how funny her dog was. She said she knew he was causing a lot of mischief where he was now. And I told her he was in good company then, because Pongo, my Pongo, was the World’s Best Mischief Maker.

My Pongo who crossed the Bridge in 2007 when he was 19 years young. And I still miss him every day.

A few days later she emailed me. A beautiful email. It included many special words. Words like Kindness. Compassion. Love. Hopeless. And Hopeful. She talked about being there with her four-legged son right to the end. How much that meant to her. How she hugged him and held him close. How she said goodbye.

And she said she would be forever thankful for what we did when she did not know what else to do.

She ended her email by saying thank you. Imagine that. She thanked me for helping her do something when she was the one who deserved all the thanks.

I simply made some calls. But she was there to the end.

So to you, dear and kind woman that loved your dog as your son, I thank you. I thank you for loving him as you did and for being there for him when he needed you most.

Thank you for loving him. Thank you for being brave.

I thank you.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org