Consistency
(I use this blog a little like a journal, so thanks for bearing with me a bit while I empty some of my thoughts onto to the keyboard.)
On Tuesday I wrote a blog about money and markets and keeping perspective.
The next day (Wednesday) at noon, my dog died in my lap. Her heart gave out and she stopped breathing just seconds after I told her “you’re a good dog, I love you, it’s going to be okay and you can go now.”
Earlier that morning, a long time reader of my newsletter sent a response to my Tuesday blog.
It said:
“How many declines have we been through together now? Thank you for your consistency over all these years. It will be okay in time.”
It’s hard to be the same way every single day. Or to give the same financial guidance over and over and over again. But that’s the right move. Consistency is hard, but it’s important.
For dogs, however, consistency isn’t hard.
They don’t have bad days.
They don’t care about the markets or the news.
They’re consistent.
When we were dog shopping at the humane society back in August 2014, I notably said to Mollie “I wanted a big dog” a few minutes before we were walking out with the 5lb chihuahua she picked. But within a day or two it was evident that I was this dog’s person. Her savior or something. And I loved her back.
She helped me build this firm. Below is a picture of her on my desk on the first day of business (Feb 2016) and the last day of her life (about 10 minutes before we said goodbye):
Over the years she was consistent.
…Consistently barking at everyone but me.
…Consistently trying to fight all of the bigger dogs we saw on walks.
…Consistently loving me and watching my every move.
…And, at the end, consistently allowing my daughter, Adele, to hold her even though she didn’t like it.
We always joked that she “only cost $20” because that was the adoption fee. I called the vet to schedule an end of life appointment at 2:30p Wednesday. Bambi (that was her name) was on my lap, listening, presumably. It was going to be like $300 for the appointment…. So in a final act of selflessness (and consistency), she took her last breath in my office, on my lap, for free.
So, to the dog I never wanted, and in the words of my reader, “thank you for your consistency over all these years. It will be okay in time.”
A final thought
While I was grappling with the sadness of losing my dog, I thought to myself, “Why would I get another pet if this is how you feel every 8-10 years or so?”
Fair. But the real question is: is the benefit worth the risk?
Life is full of opportunities to play it safe, to not get hurt, to keep your heart unbroken.
The answer is, of course, yes, the benefit is absolutely worth the risk.
This is true in love and adventure and money and business.
In my favorite book about money and investing, The Psychology of Money, Morgan Housel refers to enduring market volatility as “the cost of admission” to pursue of the wonderful potential the financial markets have to offer. I agree with that.
When loss has me feeling shitty, I try to remember it’s the cost of admission to an amazing life. Playing it safe might provide shelter from discomfort, but it keeps you from other incredible things.
That’s all for today. Hug your pets tonight.
Best,
Adam Harding
Dog Dad | Lead @ Harding Wealth
