Dog: "I wish the entirety of my lifespan wasn’t just a small fraction of yours. If I had 6 times my life, I likely wouldn’t be there with you at the end of yours. Even with my current life span, the last 3 to 4 years of it I won’t be the dog you knew before. My joints are going to wear out. I might lose my sight or my hearing. I’m going to be a burden when I can’t control my body well enough to get outside before making a mess. I can’t stand the thought of disappointing you! I can’t get over how unfair it is that the best I could give you for a lifetime companion is maybe 13 short years. You too will change as you grow. I’ll never get to know the multiple people you will grow into. I get this one brief glimpse of life with you where we have so much love, fun, and comfort, and then I have to go away to whats next while you grieve and go on without me. So I have a wish to be with you all the way until the end. We’ll both lie down in the sun one last time, close our eyes at the same time, and dream of days we were both capable of throwing a ball and chasing it. That is my wish. I only need that one.