We all see things differently; what’s hard for one person may be easy for another. Lately, life has been harder than usual for me. I’ve had to make the decision not to keep him with me anymore—my buddy, my companion, my co-pilot. He’s been with me since he was a pup.

Within a year of getting him, I became seriously ill. When I finally came home from the hospital—almost a month later—it was just the two of us. I had good friends, and the place where I boarded him cut me a deal and took great care of him, but the road to recovery and treatment lasted over a year. I survived it because he was there.

For 17 years, it’s been him and me.

I’m grateful to my niece, who lives in a nearby community, for helping make this possible. I made this decision because I needed to know he would have food, security, and a safe place to land—somewhere with people who would truly care for him. I know it’s the best thing for him. Maybe not for me.

I miss him so much it surprises me—full-on, ugly crying, even as an adult.

I’ve been lucky in other ways. A former coworker has been letting me stay at her place. sleeping on an air mattress on the floor while I put the pieces of my life back together. I’m starting over with another job. As you get older, that gets harder. I left a job because it was making me ill. And the one I had lined up fell through at the last minute. At that point, life really sucked. But that didn’t mean it had to for him.

So this Christmas, I’m thankful. He’s safe. He’s loved. And because of that, there is always tomorrow.