I’ve hosted thousands of conversations about dogs, but last week’s Dog Talk® with filmmaker/author Cathryn Michon has stayed with me in that quiet, insistent way grief does. We were talking about her luminous new short film—I’m Still Here: A Dog’s Purpose Forever—which closes this year’s NY Dog Film Festival. It’s based on her tender, watercolor-washed gift book created to comfort anyone who’s walked out of a vet’s office with an empty leash and a heart that doesn’t know what to do next.
Cathryn said something simple and true: our dogs’ love is so unconditional that they’re owed our grief. That line lands like a hand on your shoulder. If you’ve loved a dog, you know it: the Bojangles effect—how loss can be years old and still right at the surface. And you learn (sometimes the hard way) that making space for sorrow isn’t wallowing; it’s honoring.
Rituals help love keep its shape
Cathryn told me people are using her book as a totem: a corner altar with a collar, a photo, maybe a little dish for ashes, a candle. I find that deeply right. Humans have been memorializing our dogs for tens of thousands of years; there’s archeology to prove it. Why should modern life talk us out of ceremony? Call it a funeral or—if that word is too heavy—a celebration of life. Invite the people who loved your dog, say their name out loud, tell the funny stories, and yes, cry. Ritual gives love a place to live.
“It’s okay to be sad”—and it’s okay to keep noticing
One of the gentlest ideas in I’m Still Here: A Dog’s Purpose Forever is that our dogs don’t really go away. If we listen, we still notice them: a whisper when you’re sure nobody’s there… but somehow you look down before you step where the water bowl used to be. No theology required. Just permission to notice the presence you already feel.
The film welcomes you into that feeling. Cathryn took the original paintings and brought them to life—part hand-animated art, part live action processed into watercolor. You begin with a book in her hands, and then you slip into the pages. There’s Tucker (her beloved pooch who (ironically?) just recently crossed over the rainbow bridge himself) lighting up the frame like he was born knowing where the camera is. There’s a Venice (California) footbridge that quietly becomes the Rainbow Bridge. There are neighborhood dogs, loved and ordinary, playing themselves. It’s dreamy without being precious, upbeat without denying anything hard. You will exhale differently after you watch it.
Why this film closes the Festival
Every year, audiences tell me, “I want the films to be happy, not sad ones,” and of course no one comes to the Dog Film Festival to relive a sad ending like in “Old Yeller.” But real love includes real endings, and some of the most beautiful short films we screen are about aging dogs, last days, and the way a family holds that moment together. This year there is a very short film called “The Funeral,” depicting a family paying homage on the beach to a newly departed dog (the director Enrique Gill Lastra is flying in from Mexico to the Premiere). There is a mixed-media film called “Lesson from the Life and Death of Clifford” (by Julia Rue and Samuel Taylor), a collage of colored drawings and photos philosophically considering the death of their dog that they have facilitated. And then there is the luminous I’m Still Here: A Dog’s Purpose Forever, which is the note I chose to end the Festival with because it gathers up all those feelings of loss and then opens a window: the dogs we’ve loved are still here—if we leave them room.
A small suggestion if you’re grieving
If you happen to be in the tender middle of it, try this idea: pick a time—sunset is nice—light a candle, say your dog’s name, tell one favorite story, and put something of theirs on the table (that chewed-up tennis ball counts). It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be yours. Grief softens when it’s witnessed.
A Gift of Her Book For All the Filmmakers
Cathryn and her publisher have generously given copies of I’m Still Here: A Dog’s Purpose Forever for the special gift bags I put together for the filmmakers who come to the Premiere to see their films up on the big screen - and copies also for the three founding members of the Animal Communication Collective who are flying into New York to hold court on the stage at Prohibition during the VIP Pooch and Pussy Cat Party October 25th. I know Cathryn might have wanted to ask them something about Tucker, but since she’s up in Canada (preparing to direct a dog-themed film for Netflix!) her husband, the amazing novelist Bruce Cameron, is coming in her place - so maybe he will ask a question of them.
Come sit with us
The 10th Annual NY Dog Film Festival is our shared living room for all of this—joy, laughter, the goofy zoomies, and yes, the lump-in-your-throat moments we don’t need to avoid anymore. I’m Still Here: A Dog’s Purpose Forever is our closing film for a reason: you’ll walk out feeling lighter, not heavier.
If this piece finds you in a season of missing your dog, I’d love for you to join us and experience the film with people who get it. Bring tissues if you like. Bring a friend if you can. Mostly, bring your whole heart. Your dog will know you did.
Join us for the 10th Annual NY Dog Film Festival
📅 Sunday, October 26, 2025 at 2:00 pm
📍Leonard Nimoy Thalia Theater at Symphony Space - Broadway at 95th Street NYC
🎟️ https://www.dogfilmfestival.com/nyc-premiere