The Dog Park Chaplain

Let’s get this out of the way early. You will survive this. However, grief can be like bad meatloaf. When we ingest something that is bad for us, our system engages its defenses to purge the toxins. We might attempt and perhaps even succeed in keeping the bad meat down, but our bodies will suffer for it. As counterintuitive as it might seem, by allowing our body to do its job, we can eventually get on with our lives. Time alone does not heal. It leaves us older, but accomplishes little healing in the process. Grief is thrust upon us, but mourning is a choice. Grief is keeping the emotions inside, while mourning involves allowing the emotions to publicly surface. To get through grief, it is important that we mourn the loss of our pet along with the other losses that sometimes surface when a companion animal dies. If you have not already done so, give yourself permission to mourn. Share your feelings with a trusted friend, support group, clergy or therapist. It doesn’t really matter who it is as long as they talk little, listen much and offer advice sparingly, if at all. For many, getting through grief is best accomplished by expressing feelings to another in a safe, accepting environment. If you have been properly grieving, you have probably already discovered mourning, like a decadent dessert, is best experienced in small doses. When the emotions surface, if the time and place are appropriate, acknowledge the feelings, experience them fully–then move on. Grief is a journey, not a destination. A supportive community and, for many people, spiritual beliefs, in addition to time, facilitate recovery. To grow from any loss, it is important to work through the pain by accepting the loss, experiencing the emotions resulting from it, adjusting to a life without your pet and, finally, deciding how to hold on to the good memories. It is important to keep in mind that we experience grief differently. Some of us might not have to express our feelings, but we need to “do” some activity to deal with the pain. Regardless of your grieving style, do not let anyone tell you how or how long you should mourn.

One way some people have minimized the frequency of their “griefslaps” (the intense pain that strikes us with a jolt almost like a physical blow to the face) is to eliminate reminders of their pet. However, it is not usually a good idea to throw everything away soon after the animal has died. Many people find it helpful to place the pet’s things in a box and store the box out of sight for a month or two. Then, when they are ready, they retrieve the box, review its contents and unless the pain is still too great, donate and/or discard all but one or two reminders. If the feelings of grief remain too intense to take any action now, they place everything back in the box and repeat the process monthly until they feel that they are ready to select the one or two items with which to remember their pet. Simply changing their routine has been helpful to others. If certain activities and times of the day constantly remind you of your beloved pet, try doing something different. Finally, it is very important to not give in to the temptation to withdraw from those who care about you. It is okay for a few days soon after your pet has died, but probably should not continue much longer than that. Invite friends over for a visit or visit them and resume your normal schedule. If your typical routine affords too much time to dwell on the loss, add a few activities that can keep your mind occupied for more of the day. It seems like a delicate balance, but it is equally important not to get so busy that you do not have any time left to mourn. Try to regulate your “dosages” of mourning. As time passes, the “griefslaps” will become much less frequent and eventually disappear altogether.

Grief is universal, but at the same time, extremely personal. Each of us must heal in our own way. When loss is properly mourned, it will be a journey. Do not allow it to become a final destination. If you are not moving forward, you may be losing ground. To avoid getting stuck, mindfully place one foot in front of the other, no matter how difficult it seems at the onset. The journey through the darkness will eventually produce the ability to fondly recall the wonderful experiences you enjoyed with your pet. If you want to see daylight, head east, not west. It will get dark quickly, but soon, a bright new day will dawn. The important thing is to give yourself permission to mourn your loss and bravely address the pain it causes. It serves no purpose to cling to your grief for fear of forgetting your beloved animal. That will not happen. Death ends a life, not a relationship. You will always remember and love your pet – although, don’t be surprised if, one day, you find you are ready to love another animal.

Everyone has losses and all losses produce grief. Every loss is bad, but each, like your fingerprint, is unique unto itself. Loss is loss, regardless of the circumstances. No two losses are ever the same. Each stands alone and inflicts a unique kind of pain. As a consequence, it is pointless for you to compare your loss against another’s. Grief is the myriad of naturally occurring human emotions that accompany loss. We are all destined to experience grief and the wide range of emotions accompanying it. Choosing to openly and freely experience those feelings through mourning is an individual decision. However, for intuitive or “feeling” grievers, doing so is usually the quickest, most direct path to recovery. For them, the process of grief recovery is all about expressing feelings. Do not be surprised by the intensity of the emotions. That is typical. You are not losing your mind. Your heart is broken, not your head. Finally, please do not become alarmed if the emotions subside for a while only to return. That, too, is typical. However, a word of caution may be in order. If the intensity of the emotions does not begin to diminish after what you, or a trusted advisor, consider to be a reasonable period, a consultation with a professional grief counselor should be considered.

Some people in our society do not appreciate how excruciatingly painful a companion animal’s death can be for a loving pet owner. Equally unfortunate is the fact many grieving owners do not feel free to share their anguish with just anyone for fear of being judged “too emotional.” This kind of grief is often referred to as “disenfranchised.” According to Kenneth Doka, who coined the term, grief that is disenfranchised is “not openly acknowledged, socially validated, or publicly observed.” Often there is no public or social support for one’s grief or even one’s “right to grieve” Yet, grieve we must if we hope to recover. For owners experiencing disenfranchised grief, the heart is breaking but there is a sense that the pain must be suffered in silence – remaining theirs alone, because they are either not “entitled” to grieve or their loss simply is “not worth their tears.” Let me just say, not only do you have the right to mourn, doing so is crucial to your recovery.

You have probably heard about Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’ five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Unfortunately, the experiences she observed in those who were dying have been misappropriated, standardized and perpetuated as being applicable to grief in general, when, in fact, they have never been scientifically validated. Well-meaning friends might insist that you must experience each of them, perhaps even in the order listed. The fact is, not everyone experiences grief in stages and it is not uncommon to cycle through some aspects of your grief journey more than once. It is important to note that grief following a pet’s death almost immediately manifests itself as an intense display of emotion. There are a number of reasons for this, including the uniqueness of the human-animal bond.

While many states treat companion animals as property, that is not how many of us view our pets. They are typically considered to be nothing less than full members of our family. In fact, a study conducted in 1985 confirmed it. This unique bond is composed of elements of intimacy, love, care giving, companionship and spirituality. Companion animals meet a number of our relational needs and cushion difficult transitions through disruptive life changes. They are often a primary source of emotional and social support, especially for seniors and people who live alone. Pets, even though they are dependent on us like infants, provide companionship and non-judgmental love, which allows us the opportunity to reciprocate without fear of rejection. Such devotion as we find in companion animals is unmatched by any other relationship and is, in many ways stronger, purer and more intimate. Because the animal’s friendship is always available, we sometimes give them credit for helping us through life’s “rough spots.” In the fourth edition of his insightful book, The Loss of a Pet: A Guide to Coping with the Grieving Process When a Pet Dies, Dr. Wallace Sife observed, “Animals who become our companions quickly turn into our best friends and beloved confidants – constant supporters and even spiritual comrades. Our connection with our pets creates a very special interrelationship that may even become a part of our self-image.” In essence, pets, he asserts, become “the﷯ angels of our better selves.” When they die, a part of us dies with them. The human-animal bond produces unanticipated emotional reactions when it is broken. The resulting blow to its owner is often so intense that it has been compared to the death of a family member. In fact, it is sometimes so painful that one survey reported that 15 percent of former pet owners elected not to acquire another companion animal because they did not wish to endure an agonizing repetition of a beloved pet’s death. However, owners who believe that they are worthy of an animal’s love and are willing to risk loving again, usually discover that adopting a pet when they feel emotionally ready to do so, results in a different but equally strong bond. My own research has shown this to be the case.

The human-animal bond appears to originate from, among other influences, what has been referred to as the “care-taking loop.” We all have uniquely individual needs and methods of demonstrating love. We feel validated when our affection is received favorably. Taking care of a companion animal provides gratification and a sense of being needed. It resembles, in some ways, the parental responsibility for caring for a lovable and absolutely dependent child that never grows up. For many of us the ritual of caring for our pets also lends a measure of structure and stability to our lives. When the pet dies, in addition to suffering the loss of a special kind of love, we also lose that sense of stability. Anthropomorphism is also likely to be an important variable in the formation of the human animal bond. The term, which is normally used to describe a deity using words generally associated with human characteristics, (e.g. the hands of God) is used here to describe the attribution of human behavior to a companion animal. Interestingly, researchers found owners often referred to their companion animals as “son,” “daughter” or “baby” and themselves as “mommy” or “daddy.” When a life that the owner viewed as a baby, one with whom they shared a sort of rudimentary communication, is taken from them, the loss may feel like a human child has died. ascribed a spiritual dimension to the human-animal bond, which includes the inexplicable feelings during those intimate moments when our pet lovingly looks us directly in the eyes, seemingly peering into our very soul. For many people the breaking of that emotional bond leads to contemplation of their own mortality. As a consequence, it is often natural for people to feel a need for a spiritual reunion with their pet. They want to believe that their souls will meet again.