Time for Everything

A Time for Everything Under the Sun

Remembering Pixie and the Seasons of Love and Loss

There’s a verse in Ecclesiastes that has echoed through centuries of human experience:

“To everything there is a season,

and a time for every purpose under heaven.”

(Ecclesiastes 3:1)

It’s a beautiful reminder that life moves in cycles—joy and sorrow, beginnings and endings, growth and letting go. Today, that verse sits heavily on my heart, because today my wife and I had to say goodbye to one of our beloved dogs, Pixie.

A Sudden Goodbye

Just weeks ago, Pixie—our sweet whippet who had never been sick a day in her life—was racing around the park with that effortless grace whippets are known for. She was fast, so fast that we’d often laugh and say she was built out of pure joy and muscle. But then a sudden, severe illness struck. Within weeks, she couldn’t stand up on her own. The decline was brutal, rapid, and heartbreaking.

This morning we held her as she slipped away.

The shock of it all still feels unreal. I keep trying to block out the images of her last moments. Instead, I’m choosing—deliberately—to remember her flying across the grass at the park, curled up on the couch, pressed against us for comfort and warmth. I’m choosing to remember who she was, not what happened to her.

Honouring the Season We Are In

Ecclesiastes tells us there is a time to be born and a time to die, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. Today is a day for mourning. And that’s okay.

We live in a world that often pushes us to minimise our grief, to get back to work, to stay productive, to not let anything interrupt the grind. A part of me even felt guilty for not working today. But grief has its own season, its own sacred rhythm. And love demands that we honour it.

Today I am giving myself permission to feel this loss fully.

To sit in the quiet.

To remember her.

And to be grateful for the years we had with our gentle, affectionate girl.

Pixie wasn’t “just a dog.” She was family. She was joy on four legs. She was one of our fur children, and she filled our lives with light.

Grief Is Love With Nowhere to Go

The ache in my chest today is simply love—love without its companion. Love that had a daily routine, a physical presence, a warm body on the couch. And now that love has to find a new place to rest.

Ecclesiastes 3 doesn’t promise that these seasons will be easy. Only that they are part of life’s tapestry. And that each one has meaning.

Run Free, Pixie

So tonight, as the house feels strangely quiet and the couch a little emptier, I’m choosing to hold onto gratitude. Gratitude for every park run. Every cuddle. Every moment she brightened our world.

There was a time for her to run by our side.

And now there is a time for her to run free.

Run free, Pixie. We love you.

Thank you for every season you shared with us.