Friday, March 19, 2010

This is harder than I thought

The loss of this little dog, who isn't even mine, is really kicking my ass. I've been trying to figure out why (I've known dogs who have died before, I've known people who have died too) and I think it's because a) it was unexpected, b) this is the first bereavement I've had as an adult, and c) I don't actually have any claim to this dog.

My previous bereavement was nearly 10 years ago (which is a hella long time to go without bereavement!), when my grandfather passed away. (I know some people aren't going to like that I'm comparing a dog and a grandfather, but this is the emotional frame of reference I have available.) He spent the better part of a year dying, so by the time it actually happened we were ready. We'd grieved months ago. In comparison, it only took a day or two for the little dog to start acting not entirely well, go to the vet, get diagnosed, and get put down. Even though he was nearly 15, I wasn't expecting this.

When my grandfather passed away, I was still a teenager and had only just moved out of my parents' house. While intellectually I felt like I should be fulfilling an adult role, functionally I wasn't yet expected to. It was okay to just go hide in my room for a while. If I did anything to help out, the grownups saw that as a bonus. But here I can't go hide in my room and leave the condolences and the business of everyday life to the grownups. I have to hold my own, pull my weight on my team at work, plus keep food in the fridge and get my taxes done, and on top of all this do right by the dog's human.

And that's the other problem. He's not my dog, he's someone else's dog. When my grandfather died, he was my grandfather. Yes, he a husband and a father to other members of my family, but our grandparent-grandchild relationship was perfectly valid, so I was perfectly entitled to grieve however I needed to. But this little dog is not mine, so the grief belongs to his human. I have to be supportive of his human. I can't give the impression that I think the decision to have him put down was incorrect (and intellectually I don't think it was incorrect - intellectually I know we're bearing the pain so this poor little doggie doesn't have to - but emotionally I'm still sobbing "But he's just a little dog! He barked and wagged and ran and played and never hurt anyone!"). You can skip out on obligations because your grandfather just died, but you can't skip out on obligations because a dog you've never even lived with just died.

So it's not just the grief, it's that I don't feel like I'm allowed to have this grief, and that I'm supposed to be strong for the person who is allowed to have this grief.

2 comments:

laura k said...

Every time I have grieved hard for someone who was a few degrees of separation away, I thought I wasn't entitled to, not allowed to, grieve as badly as I was.

Only from hearing you say it (as opposed to myself) do I realize how wrong it is.

You feel what you feel.

Each time I lost a dog, when people who knew the dog took it hard, I actually appreciated it. It was like a validation, and also a tribute to the special creature the dog was. This dog's human might feel the same way.

The unexpected part is really hard, too. We lost one dog suddenly - in fact your description of this departed pup's joy and expression reminded me of her. The unexpectedness of it knocked us out. It was crazy painful.

Dharma Seeker said...

I agree with Laura. As a furmom it means a lot to know that your dog has touched others. My parents love my dogs almost as much as I do. Having been part of a shelter environment I've grieved for several dogs that weren't "mine".

I was a young adult when my parents made the decision to euthanize our first dog. I felt conflicted about it for many years - to the point I would break down and cry when I read a poem about euthanasia - years later.

It wasn't until I started my work at the Humane Society and watched my own Grandma die a painful death that I realized death is not the worst thing life has to offer. And when considering the inevitability of death I could only come to the conclusion that it's not when one dies, it's how it lives, and being ushered gently out of this life is truly a kindness and a blessing.

The heart doesn't know ownership, but it knows when it has been touched. If the loss of that precious, unique little life makes you sad allow yourself to grieve. I'm so sorry.