Articles
When We Have to Say Goodbye
March 2003
I remember the moment I learned about the death of my first dog. Fluffy, a snowball sized multi-colored female Shih Tzu, joined my family as a puppy when I was in second grade and had been there through elementary, junior high and high school. It was a rainy day and my mother had let Fluffy loose outside, and Fluffy took off. We searched for her for three excruciating hours before the phone call came from the vet, telling us that a driver had brought Fluffy’s lifeless body into the clinic after accidentally hitting her on the roadway.
I can still recall the bolt of panic and despair flooding through my body when I got this news. I couldn’t believe it was true. This was the creature I had bared my soul to. The one who had witnessed the family secrets that never made it out to daylight. The only one who was always there for me and never demanded anything in return. The one who I now realize had a pretty unhappy life herself, but never complained or showed any hostility toward this dysfunctional family who didn’t have a clue how to take care of a dog. Fluffy was dead, and a part of me had died with her.
For weeks I walked around in an unfamiliar fog, broken only by moments of sobbing. The world around me was surreal and the people around me seemed to be saying the oddest things to me. “She’s just a dog. You can always get another.” “I can’t believe you are this upset about a dog.”
For those of us who have been blessed by sharing our lives with animals, we know there is no such thing as “Just a dog, cat, bird, horse, ferret, etc.” These beings are members of our family. The loss of a companion animal is no less than the loss of any other family member, and sometimes I think it may even be greater. Our animals not only love us; they love us no matter what. They don’t criticize us or remember dumb things we said years ago. They live in the present and are available to be here for us now, at any time of the day or night. To me, having someone dismiss the legitimate feelings of grief and loss around the death of a companion animal is just as insane as someone saying, “It’s only your sister, child, parent, best friend.” Our animals are family, and family comes in many forms. Neither is better nor worse, just different.
In my animal healing practice, I work with families with animals who are facing terminal illness or failing health due to old age. When it is time for these animals to leave their bodies, their human companions often feel all the feelings we expect to see with any other loss in their lives. There are the typical stages of grief and loss that need to be worked through. Most of us pass through stages that begin with denial, shock, and bargaining. We move on to anger or guilt, and then sadness and loneliness before beginning to come to the final stage of acceptance, and with it the ability to reconnect. It is common to have these feelings prior to our animal’s death, known as anticipatory grief, as well as after the animal is gone.
Early on in my practice, I began to hear my clients say comments very similar to the ones I heard after Fluffy died, except they were saying it about themselves. “I can’t believe coming home to a house without a cat is this hard for me” “This may sound weird, but it’s been a week and I’m still crying about my bird dying.” It was then I realized many of us get told similar messages as children, and we internalized these views. As adults, we then struggle with our true feelings of grief and loss juxtaposed with what we tell ourselves is the adult way of responding to death, and often dismiss the feelings unless they are about human beings.
Also, many us feel very guilty about the idea of being the one who decides that our animal’s life needs to end. From working with hundreds of animals, I feel confident in saying they do not want us to feel guilty. Most of them understand the concept of death and know they will not live forever. Many are grateful for the assistance in leaving their bodies, rather than continuing to live a life full of suffering. What is difficult for animals is when we aren’t honest, when what we say to them is inconsistent with what we feel. Quite understandably, many of us are thinking, “I can’t let you go” while telling our animal, “I know you have to go and it’s ok.” Our animals pick up on this dual message and often try to hold on as long as they can, until their humans are truly able to let them go.
To me, this is the one place where we really can do something to help our animals with their passing. I help my clients communicate to their animal that while they may be very sad and even cry when it is time for the animal to leave their body, their humans will be ok without them. I help the animal understand that while their humans will miss them terribly, it is part of the process their humans need to work through in letting go and shouldn’t be taken as a sign that the animal needs to stay around longer. Our animals appreciate honesty. They can deal with painful emotional experiences very well when they aren’t confused by mixed messages. This frees them up to accept what is happening to them and allows them to more fully experience their own dying process. This also gives us the opportunity to express our true feelings openly, but in a way that doesn’t harm our companions.
Some of us are lucky enough to have people around us who support us and are willing to hang in there with us as we go through the natural stages of grief and loss. However, some people do not have a support system, or instead choose to turn to an animal bereavement support group or a therapist who specializes in working with people facing the loss of an animal. The sorrow we feel at the loss of an animal is a sign of how deeply connected we were with that other being during their life. Our grieving their passing is one way to honor their spirit. However, we can move through our sense of loss more easily when we have the support of others willing to listen to us and accept our feelings as valid.
For those of you currently dealing with the loss of an animal family member, please be gentle with yourselves. Look for the support you need and honor your animals in ways that feel appropriate to you. By doing so, you will begin to rekindle the feelings of warmth and love so wonderfully taught to us by our animals. You will then be available to experience this magical connection again with others in your life, which is ultimately the best way to pay respect to those we love.
©PollyKlein 2003
Pet Loss Support Groups
Humane Society
Resource Center
13212 SE Eastgate Way
Bellevue, WA
425-641-0080
www.seattlehumane.org
Free of charge, no pre-registration required, drop-in pet loss support group held each Sat at 10 a.m.
Pet Loss Support Hotline.
Washington State University, College of Veterinary Medicine, Pullman, WA.
Phone: (509) 335-5704.
Trained WSU veterinary student volunteers staff the phones as compassionate listeners from 6:30-9:00 p.m. Pacific Time Monday-Thursday and 1:00-3:00 p.m. on Saturdays. Calls received after hours will be promptly returned on a collect basis.
UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine, California
Phone: (800) 565-1526
Staffed by volunteers from the UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine. Hours – Monday-Friday, 6:30 – 9:30 p.m. Pacific Time
Pet Loss Individual Therapists and Counselors
The following organizations have listings of Therapists who specialize in working with grief around the upcoming or recent death of an animal
Delta Society
www.deltasociety.org/dsn000.htm
The Association for Pet Loss and Bereavement
www.aplb.org
Additional Websites for Pet Loss and Grief
www.petloss.com
www.pet-loss.net
www.superdog.com/petloss
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