Love Is Worth It, Even When It Hurts

Love is risky business, but love is worth it. “God is love.” (1 John 4:8). When we give and receive love, whether it be with another person or a beloved pet, we are close to God. But when we lose one whom we love, it hurts.

Is, therefore, it better to not love? Is that the best way to avoid being hurt? I think not. Love is worth every bit of hurt; Jesus showed us that on the cross.

A Dog I Love

“Did you get a new puppy?” It’s a question we often heard on our walks, especially when on the last leg with home in view of his nose. That’s when the puppy like spunk showed up, even when he was 17. It’s when he would look back to make sure we were still with him and then sprint like he was 17 months instead of 17 years old.

Judging by the pile of plush squeaky toys he’s accumulated in the corner of the living room, he’s quite spoiled. He still has every lamb, ball, squeaky bone, and red fish we’ve ever wrapped in Christmas tissue or bought him just-because. And yet, most of them appear brand new. Most. But not all.

There’s that one brown and white (okay, it used to be white) stuffed soccer ball that he’s loved much of the fuzz from. The squeaker still works, but I’ve had to mend the poor thing more than once, stitching up holes so the filling doesn’t spill out. Same with his big red bone, although the squeaker is beyond repair for that one.

Love Requires Mending

The poor dog is often in need of a bit of mending himself, which is to be expected in one so seasoned. One foot only has three toes where Dr. Fry removed a tumor. And he’s missing an eye, which had to be removed due a cataract that morphed into glaucoma. Both mendings involved the dreaded cone of shame.

All his life he has suffered allergies to more things than I can count, which required vigilance lest he end up with an infection that needed mending, too. Alas, I was unsuccessful in warding off the infection and he now suffers with canine MRSA that requires great diligence to keep under control.

It seems to me that some of the best things in life require mending, but with my sweet Roman it’s worth the effort because his love mends my weary heart and soul.

Love Requires Sacrifice

Perhaps it is my own seemingly constant need of having some pain or ailment tended and mended that affords me the compassion to keep up with his needs. I don’t enjoy cleaning crusty ears or tending to infected toes. In fact, the effort often causes my osteoarthritis to flare up. But I love him, so I do it.

Love often requires sacrifice—mending is hard work—but it’s always worth it. C.S. Lewis, one of my favorite authors, wrote:

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

When Roman no longer requires mending because he’s gone on before me into a life without pain, my heart will break. But I will be so much the better for having had the honor of caring for an old dog who lightened my struggle with his adorable puppy ways.

Love Hurts When Loss Looms

Roman is now 18 ½ (that’s 129 ½ in people years). I don’t know if he’ll make it to 19. He can’t really see because of the cataract in his one remaining eye, he can’t hear, and we have to carry down the deck stairs to go to the bathroom. We don’t go for walks anymore, but people who see his picture still think he looks like a puppy. He’s still sweet and loveable, and he eats with gusto, sometimes.

When I think of letting him go, I’m reminded of my old dog Bette. She was also an 18-year-old, one-eyed dog. Bette was a blond Cocker Spaniel that I got as a Christmas present when she was only 7 weeks old. I still miss her.

And I already miss the Roman who used to be—the Roman who chased the ball down our hall at break-neck speed, hopping over the divide between tile and carpet—the Roman who did tricks for treats every morning or to show off for company—the Roman who would quietly jump in my lap and lay down politely if I was eating a coconut macaroon he thought I ought to share.

He’s not the same dog, and yet he is. It’s a conundrum.

Love Is Worth It

As sad as I am when I think of losing Roman, I wouldn’t dream of going back in time to never have added him to our family. And though remembering Bette makes me a little melancholy, I wouldn’t change having loved her for the world.

Loss is inevitable, but love is worth it.

Closing Prayer on Love and Loss

Heavenly Father, I pray for whoever is reading this who might be facing the loss of a loved one, whether the human or pet variety, that You would provide comfort and hope. You are the great Comforter of our souls who has shown us what love is. May we experience You who are Love every day. In Jesus’s name, amen.

For more thoughts on how God helps us when love leads to hurt, check out this article about how Jesus holds your tears.