As we age, we will inevitably lose people we care about. It’s part of life’s journey. I’ve talked about grief in this column before, but an aspect of grieving I didn’t discuss is the loss of a pet, which can be equally devastating.
I didn’t grow up having animals as part of the family. We had goats, pigs (which we ate,) cows, and a donkey that would allow only my brothers to ride it. And we had dogs, usually collies, that were watchdogs and lived outdoors.
I didn’t pay much attention to any of them except to help milk the cows and goats when I couldn’t get out of it.
And when my own children were growing up, Christopher’s allergies kept us from having pets. But as soon as my daughter, Jennie, was out on her own she always had dogs in her home. They were part of her family.
Having animals as friends was a foreign concept to me until Jennie briefly came to stay with us and brought Stitch, her Yorkshire terrier. Within a month I grew to love that little guy. He remained with us for a while after Jen moved to an apartment, and I missed him when she reclaimed him. Years later I cried when he died at age fifteen.
But my relationship with animals was never as deep as Jennie’s. They were like her children. When her four-year-old, 5-pound Yorkie was recently killed by a neighbor’s dog, she was devastated. She cried for days and could barely function. My heart broke for her, and I didn’t know how to help or what to say.
So I said what I would say to anyone experiencing grief. As it turned out, that was the right thing. I’m sharing things from Google to help those of you who don’t have best-friend pets better understand your animal-loving friends. I found the following in “Psychology Today,” written by a social worker, Adam Clark.
“Our pets provide us with unconditional love and acceptance. They greet us at the door when we return home, acting like we are celebrities, even if we were only gone for a short period of time. We are our pets' caregivers and provide them food, a warm place to live, and lots of love in return for all they give us.
We adjust our daily routines around their needs. For example, even before feeding ourselves we commonly feed the dog, play with the cat, or head out to the pasture to provide hay for our horses. It makes sense then, that after experiencing the death of a companion animal we would grieve their absence.
Grieving is immensely taxing on the body and impacts us in every area of our lives. We are affected physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and even financially. Most of all, we feel the immediate absence of our pet's impact within our lives when they leave us through physical death or other means.
Within the acute phase of death, or immediately following a loss, it is common to cry uncontrollably with intense duration. This is because our bodies are processing through the shock of loss and working hard to reduce the overwhelming emotional experience we are going through.”
And from another website I read: “When your pet dies, it feels like the whole world shifts. The quiet spaces in your home seem even more silent, and the everyday moments, like walking through the door or settling in at night, feel emptier than you ever thought possible.”
If you have a friend or family member who is grieving deeply over the loss of a pet, just know it is a normal reaction to losing a friend, whether the friend has two legs or four. Offer help, prayer, and words of comfort and condolence like with any loss.
The week before Poppy died, my daughter had decided to begin memorizing Scriptures. She had written on a notecard Romans 5:3-5, “We rejoice in suffering, knowing that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces hope, and hope does not put to shame because God’s love had been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given us.”
After days of crying over Poppy, she began to come to terms with her loss. She texted me, “God, through his amazing glory knew what I’d be struggling with before it happened and prompted me to write out those verses. My heart might ache with loss, but God loves us and is so much bigger than any sorrow.”