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“My brother Clive thinks I'm dog crazy," she says. "In this office," I respond, deadpan, "we call it 'dog normal.'" Anya's lip twitches. Is that the beginning of a smile? I sense something shifting between us. The line was a joke, but I was also serious. It's important that my patients know they aren't alone in caring deeply for an animal companion. Our dogs see us at our best and at our worst, and love us with unparalleled devotion through it all. We share our lives with them. They know our deepest, darkest secrets, things that sometimes our closest human confidants don't even know. No one should feel ashamed for caring for another being, for feeling heartbroken when a friend is gone. What is more "normal" than love?” — Meg Donohue
My brother Clive thinks I'm dog crazy," she says.
"In this office," I respond, deadpan, "we call it 'dog normal.'"
Anya's lip twitches. Is that the beginning of a smile? I sense something shifting between us. The line was a joke, but I was also serious. It's important that my patients know they aren't alone in caring deeply for an animal companion. Our dogs see us at our best and at our worst, and love us with unparalleled devotion through it all. We share our lives with them. They know our deepest, darkest secrets, things that sometimes our closest human confidants don't even know. No one should feel ashamed for caring for another being, for feeling heartbroken when a friend is gone. What is more "normal" than love?