Monday, June 21, 2010
The pain of losing a pet
Photo courtesy of Nona Nelson
Dexter, a greyhound, often snuggled between Nona and her husband. He passed away June 3.
Nona Nelson, The Happy Wag
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You invite a new friend into your home. You make your new friend comfortable, providing all the typical accommodations of bed, bathroom and meals.
But your friend is not there for just a visit. Your new buddy will live in your home for the rest of his or her life.
And you will be expected to provide food, medical care and entertainment for your perpetually unemployed pal.
And all this freeloading friend has to repay you is affection and attention.
Unbelievably, that will be more than enough. This companion never judges you, listens to all your problems without ever offering advice, and could care less how you look when you wake up.
You love your housemate like a member of your family.
Then your friend -- your beloved pet -- dies.
You are left with great memories, but you are also left with heartache.
Grieving the loss
The death of a companion animal can trigger a complicated set of emotions, including sadness, loneliness, guilt and shame.
Losing a pet is painful. Is it the same grief as losing a child, spouse or parent? Of course not.
But it is similar to losing a friend because this was a living creature that shared your life and home.
Love and compassion are not zero-sum games.
Often the grief is compounded with feelings of guilt if the pet was euthanized, especially if it was the only choice because treatment was prohibitively expensive.
People who mourn their pets are sometimes embarrassed at how visible their grief is for weeks and even months after the loss.
While some people bounce back quickly, some need help finding closure. Peace can be especially elusive if the pet was a person's sole companion or if the person lacks a support system.
Finding support
Angels of Assisi, a no-kill shelter in downtown Roanoke, and Oakey's Pet Funeral Home and Crematory hosted a pet loss support group on June 12 at the Oakey's location on Airport Road in Roanoke.
A half-dozen attendees shared stories that revealed the depth of their emotional investments in their deceased pets: a kitty that had once belonged to a parent who is now deceased; a dog that was rescued from terrible conditions; a pooch that helped heal the pain of divorce.
Some talked about elderly pets in poor health, and thus living with the dread of a loss looming.
Talking openly about these feelings and sharing fond memories of their pets was therapeutic.
Lisa O'Neill, a volunteer at Angels, and Michelle Weade of Oakey's said they would like to plan a monthly meeting to help provide a reliable support system for people who need an outlet for this grief.
I may not need to attend future meetings, but I needed this one.
Our own loss
Dexter the Wonder Pooch. Dexter Doggy Dogg. Triple D.
My husband and I adopted Dexter from Star City Greyhounds five years ago.
He was a terrible racing greyhound, but he was an outstanding pet greyhound.
Affectionate, sweet, usually mellow but occasionally grumpy, Dexter was the dog that met me every day at the door, the dog that danced with me in the living room, the dog that snuggled his 74-pound frame between my husband and me in our queen-sized bed.
Dexter was the dog that made us love dogs and was the undisputed pack leader to our two other pooches.
We weren't ready to lose him.
On June 2, the seemingly healthy 7-year-old dog we left in the morning was clearly in distress when my husband returned home from work.
We took him to Emergency Veterinary Services of Roanoke, where he spent the night in critical care.
But the vet couldn't fix what was broken. Something exploded in his brain -- a tumor, an aneurism, we don't know -- and it was forcing his blood pressure to brutally punish the rest of his organs.
No matter how much medicine was pumped into him throughout the night, he wasn't coming back.
After 14 hours of treatment there was no improvement. We said goodbye and put his body to rest.
Finding peace
We cried an ocean of tears. The grief was choking. We felt that we had somehow let him down, even though logically we knew that wasn't true.
I regret that Dexter got dealt a crappy hand of DNA. I regret that he won't be here for another summer, another Christmas, another spring.
I regret that we have to develop a new daily routine with our remaining pets -- a new normal -- that doesn't include him.
But I will never regret that Dexter was part of our family.
He left a legacy in my personal and professional life. Dexter the Wonder Pooch, the muse that inspired this column and my blog, is immortal in our hearts.
The outpouring of sympathy my family received was touching and has helped us find peace.
Cards and e-mails from friends, co-workers and dog lovers I've met through this column as well as empathetic comments left on my blog and my Facebook page show me that people do care, they do understand this grief, and that we have a great circle of friends.
Will we get another dog? Maybe. Probably. But not for a while.
My family needs time to grieve and time to heal. And that will take as long as it takes.
Nona Nelson's column runs every other Monday in Extra.
