I'm Responsible For The Death Of My Sister's Dog. She Won't Talk To Me — What Can I Do?

I have always been fascinated by forgiveness. For something so fundamentally crucial to us flawed humans, understanding it seems daunting — a concept both complicated and nebulous.

I’m also fascinated by “ Sex and the City” (like so many other 40- to 50-somethings, I suspect). The series sometimes foregrounded forgiveness, as did the 2008 “SATC” film, in which both Carrie and Miranda face betrayal by their respective partners. Later in the film, Carrie discovers that Miranda withheld information from her about Big’s betrayal, and she — in current terms — ghosts Miranda. Soon after, Miranda confronts Carrie and begs for forgiveness. Carrie responds, “You badger me to forgive you in three days — and you won’t even consider forgiving Steve for something he did six months ago.” When Miranda protests that it is not the same thing, Carrie counters simply, “It’s forgiveness.”

But is it that simple? I always assumed so. I’ve also (upon reflection, somewhat self-righteously) prided myself on how freely I forgive, believing that doing so helps the offended as much as the offender. But then, I haven’t been on the side of needing forgiveness until recently, when I became responsible for the death of my sister’s beloved dog.

My sister and her husband live three hours north of me. When they needed to attend a funeral in a city two hours south of me, I offered to watch their dog, Peggy Sue. She was recovering from an injury and needed more care than my sister’s pet sitter could give.

I did not know Peggy Sue well, as she was a relatively recent addition to their family; extremely shy and timid, she rarely interacted with me when I visited. But I have always considered myself a huge dog lover, as well as an experienced dog