When my husband brought up the idea of getting a dog, I was somewhat hesitant. Since we both grew up with dachshunds, I knew we would get a dog eventually. Even so, I wondered if we were ready to take on the additional responsibility. Our children were young, and life was busy and full. In time, we made the decision to welcome a dog into our hearts and home.
After weeks of searching, we made our way to Charlottesville on Labor Day weekend to visit a litter of 7-week-old pups. We laughed as we watched the curious and energetic puppies run and play. It was on that day that we became the loving owners of a miniature short-haired red dachshund we named Fenway. I still remember how her small frame trembled when we carried her away from her pack. On the ride home, I petted her back and she settled comfortably on my lap. We began to bond.
Our children grew up with Fenway, and their energy seemed to match hers. She loved to chase balls, play tug of war, and run around with them. She walked with them to the bus stop each morning and was there to greet them when they came home. She patiently allowed them to dress her with their favorite teams and endured a few Halloweens – including a hot dog costume! No day was complete without the sound of her quick clatter of excited steps running to greet us at the door at the end of the day.
I never dreamed we would be blessed to have Fenway for more than 18 years. She truly became the dog of “every generation” as she developed relationships with four generations of our family. She sat in the laps of my parents’ generation and welcomed the tender touch of my sister’s grandchildren, the great grandchildren my parents never knew. When we had to say goodbye to Fenway last month, each of us felt a profound sense of sadness.
Many thoughts and feelings are generated when we experience the death of a pet. There may be shock and disbelief, confusion, sadness, guilt, relief, or numbness. These feelings are natural after a special pet has died. Like any grief experience, the uniqueness of each person’s relationship will impact their sense of loss. Our grief is shaped by factors such as the nature of the relationship, the length of the relationship, and the manner of death. The stronger the attachment, the deeper the grief.
In his book “When Your Pet Dies: A Guide to Mourning, Remembering, And Healing,” Alan Wolfelt describes some of the misconceptions that come up when grieving the loss of a pet. In an effort to bring comfort, a well-meaning person may say, “You don’t need to grieve, because it was just a pet.” Wolfelt reminds us, “If you give love and receive love in return, you are in a relationship. If that relationship is severed by death, you will grieve. This is normal and natural.”
We may be tempted to buy into the misconception that “It should hurt less because it was just a pet.” Wolfelt helps us to recognize that how much it hurts is a product of how much love and attachment there was in life. He writes, “This is true in human relationships as well as in human-animal relationships. If you deeply loved your pet and had a strong bond with him, you will probably hurt deeply.”
Society may look down upon crying and implicitly communicate, “If you cry too much after your pet dies, you are too emotional.” In reality, tears are the lubrication for sadness. Crying helps us express our grief and release the tension in our body. We can take comfort in the words of the Psalmist: “Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)
Often, I will have clients who are grieving the loss of a pet ask me if I think their pets will go to heaven. They have been told that “Pets don’t have souls, so they can’t go to heaven.” There is such a mystery surrounding life and death. While the Bible does not explicitly give us the answer, there are clear messages that God comforts the brokenhearted and understands our sorrow. I personally cannot imagine heaven without animals, and I hope to one day be joined with all my loved ones including pets! Wolfelt encourages us by saying, “Listen to your heart.”
Fenway gave us many gifts during her lifetime. The gift of unconditional love, presence, laughter, and forgiveness. She was our comforter, protector, companion, and friend. Though we witnessed and understood her decline with old age, I am not sure any of us were truly ready to say goodbye to our beloved pet.
A long time ago, I purchased “Grieving the Loss of Your Pet,” a recording by Rev. Peggy Haymes, therapist and minister in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Over the last few weeks, I listened to her reflections and found comfort. Haymes shares, “In some ways we never really say goodbye [to our pets] because the gifts they gave are always with us.”
I believe that ultimately the pain of our loss will be transformed to a celebration of all the gifts our miniature dachshund Fenway shared with us through the years. Our bond will never end.