Grief, Guest Blog, From My Grief Counselor, Linda (AND MY BFF)

This blog is about grief, something that we all experience, but hate to think is ever coming.

My guess is, that if you are reading this blog, you are not only a pet-owner, but a pet-lover, and that unfortunately, you have experienced the grief that comes from losing a pet. For pet lovers, and I count myself among their ranks, pets are not “just pets’ but treasured companions. They are family members, confidants, court jesters, family therapists and often, best friends. In my day-to-day life, my own little dogs, Noodle and Banjo, are my most faithful and ever-present companions, literally following me from room to room throughout the day and never being more than just a few feet away. Their barking, their breathing, and even their snoring in their sleep are the soundtrack of my life. As I write this, I look down and they are there.

For the past few months I have been working for the Jarrettsville Vet Center, making condolence calls to owners who have lost their pets. The calls have opened up my heart to a world of love I knew was there but still amazes me.

First of all, let me explain that I am not a certified grief counselor or therapist. I am actually not a certified anything. My qualifications are those that most of us have…being a good listener and being (I hope) kind and compassionate. Maybe the only thing you really need for this job is to have loved animals and then to have lost them. For this, I am overly qualified.

My first calls were a bit timid…who would really want to talk to a total stranger about something so private and so personal? Turns out…most people. I just had to tap the surface with…..”How are you doing since Benny, or Sparky, or Angel died?” “Do you feel like it would help you to talk about it?” A moment’s pause…..and then the stores unfold. People have talked about their dogs as puppies…the day they first brought them home from the shelter…the day they ran away and got lost in the snow, but managed to find their way home…the way they used to lie on their backs and make cooing noises like a baby. Each story is unique, as is each animal, as is each an expression of love. And talking to a total stranger is sometimes easier than talking to someone you know.

People describe the pain of losing a pet as a crushing feeling, a hopeless feeling, a panicky feeling (he’s not there!), and a lost feeling. “What do I do at the end of the day when there is not dog to walk?” “Who will care if I get up in the morning, if my cat is gone?”

Over and over, I hear…”he loved me no matter what”.

For mourners, just the new facts of life can be too much to bear. Even simple tasks….should I throw away his dish of food? Should I vacuum up his hair? Seems obvious...yes, you should, of course…but when his hair is a reminder of him...it’s not so clear a choice. I remember when our little poodle, Mason, died five years ago. I screamed at my husband- he himself going through his own grief- when he dared to clean the front windows that held Mason’s messy nose prints. Sounds like the actions of a crazy person, but in fact, it was just the actions of a person infused with grief.

Everyone has a different way of coping. And for everyone, their way is the right way.

I spoke to one man who had just lost his beloved Labrador, his hunting companion. This creative and ingenious man contracted a decoy-maker to make a new hunting decoy. The dog’s ashes were put inside the decoy and this way, the dog would still be present on each new hunting expedition. Genius!

Another family had a dog whose main goal in life was to pick up sticks from all over the yard. The day of the dog‘s burial in the back yard, the smart mom, who knew how powerless her children were feeling, had the kids gather sticks from all over the yard to place atop the dog’s grave, thereby giving acknowledgement to this dog’s favorite hobby and also letting the children contribute in a meaningful way. Genius again!

One gal who lost a cat had a gathering at her house a few days after the death. She invited all of her friends who loved the cat and they went around the table telling their favorite stories about the life and antics of this special cat. The gathering started with tears, but after awhile, everyone was laughing. And the best part was-with everyone sharing their feelings, the cat’s mom gave herself permission to do the same. This is standard behavior when people die…why not do it when your pet dies, as well?

Several people have told me that they posted obituaries for their pets on Facebook or Twitter. Putting your loss out into the world and then receiving supportive responses makes you feel like you are not alone. Great idea!

When my little Mason died….just a few years before the Facebook phenomenon, I submitted an obituary to the local paper. I wrote about how Mason loved Cheerios and how he loved to sleep in my husband’s guitar case. I even submitted a photo of him in his favorite sweatshirt. I think my husband was a bit mortified by what he considered wacky behavior, but when we started getting sympathy cards from total strangers, he realized I was on the right track. And that track is...whatever makes you feel better, is the right thing to do.




From me...A small tribute to my pets that I will meet again someday..

Ambrose

Belle

Daisy

D.C.

Ms. Pig

D.C. and Squeak-Box

Lilly (and Ambrose)

Ms. Pig and Ambrose

Here are some pet loss support helplines. These organizations will call you and help you talk about your grief. They are all volunteer and they are a free, anonmous support for any of you that feel you need someone to talk to. They are wonderful people who understand your grief and want to support you in your recovery.

http://www.pet-loss.net/hotlines.shtml

http://www.vet.cornell.edu/org/petloss/

http://www.tufts.edu/vet/petloss/

http://www.aspca.org/pet-care/pet-loss/

http://www.vetmed.wsu.edu/plhl/

Guest Blogger, My Best friend, and her dog Banjo

Linda, in her store with her two guard dogs. Well, if wagging and barking "hello, come pet me!" is an alarm call

   Ever since Krista started writing her blog, I have threatened to write a guest appearance, mainly about Banjo, the rescue she changed our lives with, but also (like it or not, Krista) about Krista herself.

     There are some days that change your own history and the day I met Krista was just one of those days, although of course I didn't know it at the time.  My husband, Carroll, and I have an antiques store is an obscure and ridiculously remote part of southern York County, Pennsylvania called Gatchellville. About six years ago, I was in the house, which is located right across the driveway from the store, and my husband came in and said there was a customer at the front door of the store.  I reminded him that we were closed and that he should tell the gal to come back another day.  Carroll told me that he told her that to go away and come back another day but that she refused to leave!  Well, now I know that that is classic Krista.  If there is something she wants, she goes after it, and she doesn't leave until she has it.

     It turned out to be a lucky day for all of us.  Carroll and I had just moved to southern Pennsylvania.  Krista and her husband, Joe, had just done the same.  We all loved antiques, good food, old houses, and animals, and along with another couple, Barbara and Richard, we formed a band of brothers, so to speak. 

     We have spent the past six years pondering the universe, fighting over politics, drinking more champagne than I want to admit to, lavishing each other with gifts, and becoming a family. 

     Without knowing what was happening, these people have become the people who, without question, I would lend money, donate a kidney, flip hundreds of pancakes for, and in Krista's case, trust with my animal's medical care.

     Inevitably at the end of a workday, when Krista and Joe show up at our house for dinner (why do I do all of the cooking, by the way?), the topic is first and foremost people and their animals what happened at the clinic how people can be cruel, lazy, and downright stupid with their pets, and how it is a never ending uphill battle to make the world safe for the animals in our possession. We have to get this conversation out of the way before we can go on to other things like how our families drive us crazy, what antiques we saw at a show we went to, and who wants what gift for Christmas.

     I will tell you that Krista-Joe, too-do not suffer fools easily and pity the poor folks who come into her clinic who have neglected their pets.  In her case, the customer is not always right and she does not mind telling them.  Well, that's as it should be. 

     For me, I know she has gotten my own pets miniature poodles named Mason (who has since passed away), Noodle, and Banjo through any number of scrapes and I rest easier just knowing that she is at the other end of the phone in an emergency. 

Banjo, (foreground) and Noodle, (background) slumbering on their porch.

Two years ago, my little dog, Noodle, was attacked by a vicious Rottweiler in the back yard of our house.  We were minding our business, out for our evening walk, and this dog came out of nowhere and somehow mistook Noodle for a nice dinner sandwich.  It was one of the scariest days of my life. I thought that, not only would Noodle be gone, but that I would be attacked as well, and the two of us would be left to die alone in the field.

     By a miracle I was able to get away, but I thought that Noodle was dead.  There was blood everywhere.  However, I sensed a faint heartbeat when I got him into the house.  One phone call and five minutes later, I was at Krista's old stone house.  Joe was carrying Noodle in and she had turned the upstairs bathroom into a sterile emergency room.  

Thank-Goodness Noodle is still with us! Amazingly not too much worse for wear.  We were lucky that day.

     Another lucky day occurred last February when we got a call from Krista someone had dropped off a small white poodle and she thought we might want to adopt it. It turns out that the people had even offered to pay for euthanasia if it could not find a good home.  

     I wasn't looking for another dog.  The way we care for Noodle is the way some families might care for n entire squadron of five year olds-just dressing him in his daily sweater sets is a job-so I wasn't looking for another dog.

     But as is Krista's way, she was pretty insistent that we wanted this dog.  I agreed to come in and meet him the next day.  I wasn't excited. I figured there had to be a lot wrong with him if his previous family would just drop him off, unwanted.

Me and Banjo at JVC.

Banjo, in his first few days at JVC, Looking scruffy and scared.

 

When I met him, I knew I was right.  There was a lot wrong with him.  He had ear infections, urinary tract infections, matted fur, runny eyes, chronic diarrhea, and was positive for heartworm.  He was the scrawniest, most pathetic poodle I have ever seen; with a face that just cried out with is misery.  Please, please, please, won't somebody love me!?

     I knew if I just picked him up for one second I would be a goner. So I resisted for a full five minutes. Just staring at him from across the room. Could I commit to this pathetic little bundle of matted fur? To make him even more pathetic, he has a strange albino-ish coloring with pink circles around his eyes and a pink nose. He looks as if he is perpetually crying.

     I knew I had a little bit of an out by telling the folks at the clinic that we would leave the decision to keep this dog up to Noodle, the spoiled (and healthy and beautiful) poodle at home. 

Well, the two bonded like twin brothers who had been separated at birth and were reunited on the Oprah show.  From the second they laid eyes on each other, they have been inseparable, two peas in a pod, always shoulder to shoulder in their perch in the window.

Carroll, Linda's Husband, with their two peas, Noodle (left) and Banjo (right).

 

     This dog, who came with the cumbersome name of Jean Luc has been renamed Banjo and has learned to live with a family who loves him and spoils him, something that all dogs should hope to have. He still has some health problems, most recently a series of very worrisome seizures.  He has allergies, oddball rashes, ear infections, and I think he will always be pretty high maintenance.  But to me-and to my husband, Carroll, he is one of the most beautiful dogs in the world.   We are so glad that we were able to rescue him from the clinic in Jarrettsville. 

     Thanks, Krista.

Banjo, on the couch, (where he usually is), in plaid, (like he usually is), with his bone.