After working on this site for years, it recently occurred to me that the best place to start processing loss is before your pet dies. Sadly, tragedies and medical crises happen, so we don’t always have that opportunity, but if you do, it is important to proceed mindfully.
When Tovi received a fatal cancer diagnosis, I started spiraling. In addition to the strength of our relationship, my reaction was also colored by my anxious temperament and past experiences. My ability to slow down and think through the options presented to me was severely impaired. The intensity of my emotions was so high that all I wanted to do was move forward, not only at any financial cost but also without stopping to consider what I was putting my nearly thirteen-year-old dog through. Looking back, I only wish I had paused long enough to really think through my decisions instead of running on impulse alone. Recognizing the intensity of your emotions and grounding yourself is essential when evaluating options.
So, stop and check in with your intentions: Of course, where there is love, it is natural to want to do anything to prolong your pet’s life, but for me, my fear of living without Tovi drove my decisions. Tovi spent the last few weeks of his life in a Pet ER. My intentions were good – I knew he was suffering, but because there was a chance he would recover, I kept him there...and that is OK – to a point. It is important to continuously assess your decisions. My emotions were so high I couldn’t rationally see what I was doing. It wasn’t until it went on for far too long that I accepted he was not the dog he once was and was likely never to be That dog again.
The Crisis
Ideally, we want to figure things out before the Crisis. When you let it go to a Crisis level, the chaos of the Crisis is what you remember, and that can taint the memory of your relationship. My grief became very much colored by anger toward myself. I became fixated on what I could have done differently, and as a result, not only was I grieving the loss, but also causing myself additional suffering because I couldn’t forgive myself for decisions I made along the way.
Try to Make Peace With What Happened (or at least stop beating yourself up)
Know that whatever path you choose, you will almost always second-guess your decisions when your pet is gone. Maybe you feel you did too much and your pet suffered as a result, or perhaps you feel you didn’t do enough. There is no winning, so try to avoid that shame mine. You did what you thought was best at the time, and keep in mind if you had made a different decision, there is no guarantee that path would have worked out. Similar to the paths we take in life, there will always be ghost outcomes. We can’t rewind time, and guilt and regret are often part of the grief experience.
What Can I Do?
Discuss options with your veterinarian and get a second opinion if you feel necessary. Make sure you are working with a veterinarian who you feel comfortable with. Be as informed as possible, and then proceed with caution. Proceed mindfully. Weigh the options and discuss them with a trusted person who understands and respects your relationship. Do not expect this person to decide for you, but to be a sounding board while you explore options. Talk to your pet – have a candid conversation about what is happening and ask them what they want. It is also helpful to seek a therapist to walk you through the minefield of emotions.
Releasing your friend
If you can, consider how to make the last days the best. Intentionally say goodbye (again, we can only do this when we know it's coming). We think of the quintessential last day as being treated with forbidden extravagances like a Big Mac and fries or a a steak from Ruth Chris, and that is a beautiful send-off. But maybe they no longer have an appetite or are too lethargic to engage. Simply sitting beside your pet can be extraordinary for both parties. Be aware of the feel of their fur on your palm, the texture of their nose, and the familiar scent they omit. If they can no longer get onto your bed, create a makeshift bed on the floor and sleep beside them for the last night.
A Final Word on How Relationships Affect Grief
When my next dog, Millie, passed, I was able to see more clearly and accept that her end was here and did not prolong her suffering. It is important to note that we shared a different type of bond, so my emotions didn’t feel quite as heavy, making my decision easier. This doesn’t mean I didn’t love Millie, but the love was different because the attachment wasn’t as strong. Tovi was my first dog – the one I adopted in my early twenties- and saw me through two marriages, moves, and many significant life changes. I couldn’t imagine doing life without him. My relationship with Millie wasn’t less significant because Millie hadn’t seen me through as much (but that was a part of it), but because our relationship was complicated. She had severe anxiety, which made life outside our home hard, and being her mom sometimes felt too heavy for my already anxious personality. Even so, I cared for her with the same love and compassion I gave to Tovi, but it FELT different.
After saying all of this, I can’t stress enough that these anticipatory grief tools are only possible when the loss is anticipated. In another post, I will talk about sudden/traumatic loss.
Millie Weiner
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