08.26.08
Our beloved companions
It’s been a rough couple of days mentally and emotionally, but I think I’m doing okay at compartmentalizing it until I can be alone and then it comes out in waves. Mostly, I like to process by writing and being alone or watching movies.
I’ve also managed to catch a cold. I suspect that it is emotional grief related being at that is a pattern of mine.
A sad thing I’ve noticed is that nearly everyone I have mentioned it to has a similar story. I have lost many pets and creatures – but I think sometimes I forget that other people have very similar experiences.
As soon as I say, “My dog got hit by a car and has died.” Most people respond with, “I’m so sorry. I had a dog once….”
The immediate need to relate to grief or loss is a human condition that makes my story seem cushioned somehow. Less alone and isolating. Maybe that’s why as people we are so fast to respond with a story of our own in an attempt to relate?
When my German Shepherd, Dutch, died I was devastated. I’d had him for 8 years and the last three were intensive years of medical treatments and expensive drugs. I gave him injections and pills on a daily basis along with special foods just to keep him with me when I should have had the grace to let him go. But I couldn’t let him go because then I would have been alone.
Now with Xena gone I feel her vacancy in my life, but I also recognize I am not alone.
I wonder sometimes why we love the creatures we love. Why do people and children and animals come into our lives? What brings them there? Happenstance? Chance? Need?
I have decided over time that I never choose pets, they choose me and I have always been better for having had them for whatever duration that they are with me. They teach me more about myself that I can return with simple care and feeding. They are reflections of what my nature is that I avoid or fear or need to learn to treasure. They are mirrors of compassion that I cannot give myself but can, for some reason, accept from a creature that has no worldly opinion.
This blog is for our pets. This posting is for your stories and adventures with creatures that have become or have been a part of your life.
What pet gave you the best memories? Can you share one? Do you have a story that you can give to the ether for others to relate to or be amused by or reflect on? If this pet is no longer with you, how did you grieve?
I will put together something of my own but right now I am still too congested to talk about her.
I hereby open the comments for stories of our beloved companions, be they mice or horses or toads. Please tell us about your pets….
dom said,
August 26, 2008 at 1:03 pm
I very recently lost a companion of 17 years. Here’s what I wrote about that day:
http://heydomsar.diaryland.com/silence.html
Kungfukitten said,
August 26, 2008 at 2:23 pm
I’m glad to see Dom here. I’m at work and I’ll start crying if I write anything but I miss Chloe every day. She was a spitfire. It was her house, not mine. Sometimes I’d hide in the bathroom until she was done throwing a fit.
Epiphany said,
August 26, 2008 at 3:05 pm
I’ve always had animals. Growing up we had dogs, cats, chickens, horses, etc. It took me a while, but I finally realized what you have, which is that it’s worth the inevitable grief to have them in our life. They enrich it in too many ways to count.
I don’t really have a specific pet story in mind, but at the moment I’m sitting here in my rec room with a ferret licking my toe and others running around, and I definitely have to think that having pets is worth every moment.
Epiphany said,
August 26, 2008 at 3:14 pm
Wait I just thought of something!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlQJSzeVtGM
Um, copy/paste that and you’ll see a video of my ferrets that I made a while back
Nelli Vanderburg said,
August 27, 2008 at 8:12 am
At this very moment, the best dog I’ve ever had is curled up on the back of my armchair, snoozing. I know I’ll be absolutely devastated when she passes away. I’ve had other dogs before but none of them were actually MINE (they were family dogs).
Also, my first cat was a great cat. He was huge, 20 pounds of muscle and fur (and okay, some fat). He was rough-and-tumble and had all his claws, which made it interesting when he would play. But he slept on my bed and he would come running when I got off the school bus, then butt his head against my knee until I picked him up. He purred like a motorboat. He scared the crap out of my brother, which was cool, too.
Soon after I left for my second year of college, he disappeared. He was probably about 10 years old.
Megan said,
August 27, 2008 at 10:09 am
before my first love, er..cat, Tigger died at the ripe age of 18 he used to come into my room every night to sleep..sometimes even being used as my pillow, he loved to lay there, my head on his fat round little belly, purring away. As he got older he stayed spry and healthy but he had the oddest signs of aging. He started to get lost in the hallway, late at night you’d hear this pathetic “mroooooowr, mroooooowr” like something between a cat and a moose in heat eminating from the long hallway connecting our bedrooms to the living room. He’d keep at it until I’d call out to him “hey buddy, I’m in here” and then he’d come running into the bedroom, funny little cat trot, belly wagging and all and jump into bed, already purring. How he managed to lose himself in fifteen feet of straight hall with no twists or turns still baffles me, and his silly cat-grin when he’d leap up next to me still makes me smile. I was away when he died, I had progressively come home less and less until it had finally been an entire year. I think maybe he gave up hope I was coming back, but then I remember that he was so tenatious that he had to be put down, he missed me but never gave up on me.
Harley said,
August 27, 2008 at 1:57 pm
Cricket was my wife Amy’s chihuahua before we got married, but she came to be my little buddy as well. When I got home, she was always excited to see me and I would get down on all fours and chase her around the house. Then she would come curl up in my lap.
Around Christmas, she developed a persistent cough and we finally took her to the vet. At only eight years old, she had an enlarged heart. The vet gave us medication for Cricket to take, but we knew she wouldn’t last much longer.
Cricket collapsed once in March and then again in April. One evening in May, she was breathing hard and couldn’t move. We knew this was it for her. We said our last goodbyes and went to bed, knowing that it was probably the last time we would see her alive.
We slept poorly and woke up early. At first we didn’t see her, but then we found her curled up under a desk. As we feared, she was gone. We had a little ceremony and buried her in the garden that morning.
I still miss my little buddy.
AmandaG said,
August 28, 2008 at 10:38 am
I’ve had a few dogs over the years and when I lose one I always ask myself why I do it. Why do I have dogs? It seems like cruel trick of nature that the average human last 75-80 years and the average dog lasts 10-12. That is just not right. I invite them into my life because any grief that I might experience pales in comparison the love and companionship that a dog brings to me. My dogs are right up there with the most important people in my life. To have something love you unconditionally just because you are who you are is amazing. I had one particular dog (the very first dog that was all mine) from the time I was 5 until I was 16. I came home from school one day and I found him drowned in our backyard pool. It is still one of the single most devastating days of my life. I would not trade those years of happiness for anything, though. The pain is worth it because the love is just soooo good.
PS: I hope you are feeling a bit better today.
Chadely said,
August 29, 2008 at 8:56 pm
I dont really have a story about a pet that died. As you know i am to manly to have cuddly furballs.
Epiphany said,
August 30, 2008 at 2:33 pm
It seems a bit odd, actually, but yesterday I was hanging out with my sister and she told me that her boyfriend’s dog had died. He’s had the same Dachsund since he was a kid, so she had to have been in her teens and was getting very old. Apparently she was chasing the horse in the pasture and something happened. They think the horse kicked her and broke her neck, because my sister was there (but out of sight) and the dog didn’t even make a sound. She also said that after that she was afraid that the horse was sick, because she was standing in the pasture with her head down and didn’t want to be caught.
It might sound cold to say this, but I really believe that for a dog there’s no better way to go than that. The last thing she knew, she was running in a field, chasing a horse and being happy. Still, sitting here with two little dachsunds on my lap (i’m dogsitting) it still makes tears come to my eyes to think of losing a long-time friend and companion like that.
Phew, apparently I have a lot to say on the subject of pets
Maybe I should write an entry on my own blog, heh…