12/22/2025
Christmas is a season built around gifts. The gifts of the Magi. The gifts we give one another. The quieter gifts we do not always recognize until much later. Dogs belong in that tradition. They are among the greatest gifts we receive, and almost everything they bring into our lives arrives as a lesson.
Last Sunday, December 14th, at Juniper Valley, we lost one of those gifts. We lost Norbert.
If you have spent any time at Juniper Valley Animal Hospital, you already knew him. He was in photos, in videos, and on social media, often without trying to be. He could usually be found in the food room, staring out into the waiting area keeping an eye on things he had no control over. On occasion, he helped himself to a snack or two on the way out. He greeted many of your dogs and cats, often without you realizing it. Anything moving through treatment had his attention. Sometimes he investigated. Sometimes he observed from a careful distance. During ultrasounds, he often sat nearby, quietly watching the whole scene (and sleeping).
He was woven into the daily life of the hospital. Christmas photos with Santa were no exception. In past years, he supervised from his usual spot, sometimes attempting to interrupt and needing to be redirected. This year, he no longer had the energy. He rested quietly in reception while the photos were taken. Looking back, it explained everything. The quiet was the message.
Dogs give us responsibility through routine. They teach patience through repetition. They teach kindness by needing care. These lessons shape how we move through the world. Norbert gave all of them. He was my third Weimaraner and the best of the bunch. I spoke to him constantly. About work. About nothing. About everything. He listened with the full attention only a dog gives.
He became sick quickly. Cancer moved fast and left little room for adjustment. Our roles narrowed in ways we did not expect. In the end, the only thing we could give him was relief from suffering. That mattered. It was the final responsibility he placed in our hands, and we honored it.
The last gift dogs give us is grief. It is the hardest one. It hurts and lingers. Even so, it teaches us how to love deeply and carry loss without turning away. That lesson still makes us better humans.
Thank you, Norbert. Godspeed.
