Why Do I Feel So Guilty Leaving My Dog?

14 minutes ago

3 min read

What the guilt is really trying to protect—and three small moves that can loosen the knot.

I started writing this on a plane to Savannah. A long weekend, nothing more. Somewhere after takeoff, I opened my calendar to plan a trip in November that I’ve been putting off for weeks. My stomach dropped.

She’s also closer to the end of her life than she’s ever been. (Aren’t we all.)

The webcam that ruined a vacation

A couple of winters ago, we escaped the cold for a trip and boarded Daisy somewhere new. The place had a webcam, which felt like a gift.

It was not a gift.

Daisy is shy. She’s older, and she hates being in a room full of hyper dogs. I watched that camera like it was my job. There she was, at the door. Looking up at the lens. Waiting for us to come back.

(Or at least that was the story I was telling myself.)

I felt guilty the entire trip. My body was on vacation. The rest of me was standing at that door with her.

What’s underneath the guilt of leaving your dog

Losing her is part of it, and I won’t pretend otherwise. What ties me in knots is the thought of her feeling abandoned by me. And the thought that something could happen while I’m not there to be with her.

That’s fear. It shows up as guilt, and it makes a good case.

I say this to the women in my groups all the time: when we feel like we need to control something, it’s usually fear underneath. The webcam was control. So is not planning the trip. If I never book it, I never have to be the one who left.

What dogs know when you’re gone

So I did what I always do when I’m stuck. I wrote, and I looked things up.

In 2011, two researchers in Sweden left dogs home alone for 30 minutes, two hours, and four hours, then watched what happened when their owners walked back in. After two hours, the dogs greeted their people with more intensity than after 30 minutes. Between two hours and four, the researchers couldn’t measure a difference.

Then in 2022, a team in Japan measured dogs’ tears. The dogs’ eyes teared up more when their owners came home, and not for a familiar person who wasn’t their owner. The researchers linked those tears to oxytocin, the bonding hormone. Happy tears, in other words.

Name it. Plan it. Go.

This is the part that loosens the knot. Three moves, all small.

I’m not done with mine yet. The plan for November isn’t written. But writing this is how I got unstuck enough to open the calendar, and that’s the first step I’d been avoiding for weeks.

If it isn’t your dog, it’s something else

For a lot of us, the dog is the most lovable excuse. There’s also the trip you keep not booking, the class you keep meaning to take, the weekend with your friends that always waits until next year.

Most of us carry a long list of reasons to stay put. A lot of them are shoulds that sound like love.

And if you have a Daisy of your own, give her a scratch behind the ears. She knows you’ll be back.