If any emotion rules supreme when a pet dies, it is guilt. No matter what the circumstances of our loss, guilt is there, grabbing us by the throat. It haunts our days, ruins our sleep, and tarnishes our memories. Often, guilt goes beyond the loss itself; we may start to feel guilty for just about everything.
Guilt on the Rampage
If a pet dies through an accident or moment of carelessness, guilt is quick to follow. Perhaps someone wasn’t careful about opening a door, and the pet ran into the street to be hit by a car. Perhaps someone fed the pet a hazardous treat—a splintery bone or forbidden bit of chocolate. Perhaps someone overlooked a hazard—an electric cord, or a bit of string. When something like this happens, guilt closes in quickly. If only I had known… If only I had been more careful… If only I had come home sooner… If only I had been watching… The final memories of the pet become a litany of failure.
If a pet dies of an unexpected illness, the litany is often similar. Why didn’t I notice the symptoms sooner? Why didn’t I visit the vet immediately? Why didn’t I get a second opinion? How could I have let it go so long, been so blind, done so little?
Euthanasia is the grand master of guilt. No matter how certain we are that we are doing what is best for the pet, few pet owners actually feel comfortable with this decision. Very few can walk away from the vet’s office without nagging doubts, without wondering what the pet felt or thought in that final moment, without asking whether we should have waited longer or tried harder. Many of us feel guilty of literally murdering a family member.
But even if there is nothing in the pet’s final hours to trigger a guilty response, we are not off the hook. If we can’t find something in the pet’s death to feel guilty about, we’ll find it in the pet’s life. If only I had spent more time with her… If only I had given him more attention… If only I hadn’t pushed her off my lap, if only I hadn’t ignored those pleading eyes, if only I hadn’t been so busy… Before long, we convince ourselves that we were abominable pet owners who made our companions’ lives miserable. And now it’s too late. We cannot make amends, redeem ourselves…
Why do we feel this way?
We are believers in cause and effect. When something goes wrong, we want to know why. How did it happen? What went wrong? Could it have been prevented—and if so, how? Who is responsible? What could/should have been done differently? Rarely can we acknowledge that there are no answers to these questions. Rarely can we say, “no one was at fault; it simply happened.” Rarely can we accept that nothing could have been changed or done differently.
This reaction is intensified by the profound sense of responsibility we feel toward our pets. Pets occupy a similar role to very small children: No matter what happens, we are responsible. We can never expect our pets to understand why they shouldn’t run into the street, chew on the electric cord, or filch scraps from the trash. We are always their guardians and protectors. And so, when something happens, we view ourselves as responsible for that as well—and it is only a short step from feeling “responsible” to feeling “guilty.”
From Guilt to Redemption
A little bit of guilt, for the right reasons, can be healthy. Next time, we’ll vaccinate; next time, we won’t feed the pet bones or scraps. Next time, we’ll consult the vet immediately about that odd behavior change.
A lot of guilt, however, is not so healthy. Left unchecked, it can prevent us from seeking the joy of a new pet—and can even ruin our lives. I’ve spoken with pet owners who have suffered from guilt for years. So if you can’t shake the sense of being “to blame” for your loss, you could be in for a long, rough ride—unless you choose to change direction.
Notice that I said “choose.” While we can’t always control how we feel, we can control how to respond to those emotions. We can choose whether to control those emotions, or whether to allow them to control us.
Nor is guilt simply an emotion. At its core, guilt is a belief—a conviction that we have done wrong and must suffer for it. The only way to break that conviction is to change what we choose to believe. Here are some choices that can help you take the upper hand over guilt.
1. Choose not to rehearse guilt.
Do you find yourself repeating the same guilty thoughts over and over again? They won’t go away by themselves. You must choose to make them stop. First, catch yourself. When you find yourself wandering down that painful mental path, put up a mental stop sign. You might choose a physical action, such as snapping your fingers, to remind yourself to change direction. Then, deliberately focus on something else, such as your plans for tomorrow. Focusing on something positive in the future is a conscious reminder that there is more to your life than negatives from the past.
2. Choose to accept what cannot be changed.
A self-imposed “penance” for past mistakes accomplishes nothing. It doesn’t change, or make up for, the past; it simply ruins your future. Chances are that you’ve already changed anything that needed to be changed (such as vaccinating your other pets). Can you change anything else? Can you undo what was done? Can you change the outcome of your actions? If the answer is “no,” choose to accept that answer. Accept that the only thing you can change now is your future.
3. Choose balance.
Guilt keeps us focused on the times we imagine we failed—the times we were “too busy” to take a pet for a walk, or play with it, or cuddle it. It blinds us to all the other times when we weren’t too busy. So the next time your mind drifts into those unhappy thoughts, choose to refocus. Actively remind yourself of the good times, the times when you were, indeed a responsible and caring pet owner. (Chances are, that was most of the time.) Flip through your photo albums. Write down a list of the things you did for and with your pet. Force yourself to remember what went right. Recognize that there is, and always has been, a balance between your failures and your successes. No, you weren’t 100% perfect. But neither were you 100% flawed.
4. Choose forgiveness.
Forgiveness is not some abstract religious concept. It is a rockbottom necessity in any relationship. Think about it. Could you have had a relationship with your pet, if you couldn’t “forgive” the puddles, the torn drapes, the gnawed belongings, the broken heirlooms? Pet owners who can’t forgive don’t remain pet owners for very long. And it worked the other way as well: How often did your pet “forgive” you for coming home late, or ignoring it, or yelling at it? Forgiveness has always been at the foundation of your relationship with your pet, and now you need to make it the foundation of your healing. Each time guilt tries to remind you of some past mistake, acknowledge that mistake—and forgive it. If you did wrong, fine. It’s done, it’s over, and it’s time to move forward. Treat yourself with the same degree of love and acceptance that your pet gave you. Only then will you be able to heal and love again.
Pet owners who “don’t care” will never experience the pangs of guilt. Only caring, responsible pet owners go through this agony. The trouble is, too much guilt can prevent you from becoming a caring, responsible pet owner again.
The world has enough people who don’t care what mistakes they make. It doesn’t have enough pet owners who do care—who choose to learn from their mistakes and move on to make a difference in yet another pet’s life. Don’t let guilt keep you locked in a lifetime of misery. Choose to forgive, to love, and to move forward. The world needs you!
Copyright © 2000 by Moira Allen.
Reprinted from The Pet Loss Support Page – http://www.pet-loss.net
Anyone who considers a pet a beloved friend, companion, or family member knows the intense pain that accompanies the loss of that friend. Following are some tips on coping with that grief, and with the difficult decisions one faces upon the loss of a pet.
1. Am I crazy to hurt so much?
Intense grief over the loss of a pet is normal and natural. Don’t let anyone tell you that it’s silly, crazy, or overly sentimental to grieve! During the years you spent with your pet (even if they were few), it became a significant andconstant part of your life. It was a source of comfort and companionship, of unconditional love and acceptance, of fun and joy. So don’t be surprised if you feel devastated by the loss of such a relationship. People who don’t understand the pet/owner bond may not understand your pain. All that matters, however, is how you feel. Don’t let others dictate your feelings: They are valid, and may be extremely painful. But remember, you are not alone: Thousands of pet owners have gone through the same feelings.
2. What Can I Expect to Feel?
Different people experience grief in different ways. Besides your sorrow and loss, you mayalso experience the following emotions:
• Guilt may occur if you feel responsible for your pet’s death—the “if only I had beenmore careful” syndrome. It is pointless and often erroneous to burden yourself with guilt for the accident or illness that claimed your pet’s life, and only makes it more difficult to resolve your grief.
• Denial makes it difficult to accept that your pet is really gone. It’s hard to imagine that your pet won’t greet you when you come home, or that it doesn’t need its evening meal. Some pet owners carry this to extremes, and fear their pet is still alive and suffering somewhere. Others find it hard to get a new pet for fear of being “disloyal” to the old.
• Anger may be directed at the illness that killed your pet, the driver of the speeding car, the veterinarian who “failed” to save its life. Sometimes it is justified, but when carried to extremes, it distracts you from the important task of resolving your grief.
• Depression is a natural consequence of grief, but can leave you powerless to cope with your feelings. Extreme depression robs you of motivation and energy, causing you to dwell upon your sorrow.
3. What can I do about my feelings?
The most important step you can take is to be honest about your feelings. Don’t deny your pain, or your feelings of anger and guilt. Only by examining and coming to terms with your feelings can you begin to work through them. You have a right to feel pain and grief! Someone you loved has died, and you feel alone and bereaved. You have a right to feel anger and guilt, as well. Acknowledge your feelings first, then ask yourself whether the circumstances actually justify them. Locking away grief doesn’t make it go away. Express it. Cry, scream, pound the floor, talk it out. Do what helps you the most. Don’t try to avoid grief by not thinking about your pet; instead, reminisce about the good times. This will help you understand what your pet’s loss actually means to you. Some find it helpful to express their feelings and memories in poems, stories, or letters to the pet. Other strategies including rearranging your schedule to fill in the times you would have spent with your pet; preparing a memorial such as a photo collage; and talking to others about your loss.
4. Who can I talk to?
If your family or friends love pets, they’ll understand what you’re going through. Don’t hide your feelings in a misguided effort to appear strong and calm! Working through your feelings with another person is one of the best ways to put them in perspective and find ways to handle them. Find someone you can talk to about how much the pet meant to you and how much you miss it—someone you feel comfortable crying and grieving with. If you don’t have family or friends who understand, or if you need more help, ask your veterinarian or humane association to recommend a pet loss counselor or support group. Check with your church or hospital for grief counseling. Remember, your grief is genuine and deserving of support.
5. When is the right time to euthanize a pet?
Your veterinarian is the best judge of your pet’s physical condition; however, you are the best judge of the quality of your pet’s daily life. If a pet has a good appetite, responds to attention, seeks its owner’s company, and participates in play or family life, many owners feel that this is not the time. However, if a pet is in constant pain, undergoing difficult and stressful treatments that aren’t helping greatly, unresponsive to affection, unaware of its surroundings, and uninterested in life, a caring pet owner will probably choose to end the beloved companion’s suffering. Evaluate your pet’s health honestly and unselfishly with your veterinarian. Prolonging a pet’s suffering in order to prevent your own ultimately helps neither of you. Nothing can make this decision an easy or painless one, but it is truly the final act of love that you can make for your pet.
6. Should I stay during euthanasia?
Many feel this is the ultimate gesture of love and comfort you can offer your pet. Some feel relief and comfort themselves by staying: They were able to see that their pet passed peacefully and without pain, and that it was truly gone. For many, not witnessing the death (and not seeing the body) makes it more difficult to accept that the pet is really gone. However, this can be traumatic, and you must ask yourself honestly whether you will be able to handle it. Uncontrolled emotions and tears—though natural—are likely to upset your pet. Some clinics are more open than others to allowing the owner to stay during euthanasia. Some veterinarians are also willing to euthanize a pet at home. Others have come to an owner’s car to administer the injection. Again, consider what will be least traumatic for you and your pet, and discuss your desires and concerns with your veterinarian. If your clinic is not able to accommodate your wishes, request a referral.
7. What do I do next?
When a pet dies, you must choose how to handle its remains. Sometimes, in the midst of grief, it may seem easiest to leave the pet at the clinic for disposal. Check with your clinic to find out whether there is a fee for such disposal. Some shelters also accept such remains, though many charge a fee for disposal. If you prefer a more formal option, several are available. Home burial is a popular choice, if you have sufficient property for it. It is economical and enables you to design your own funeral ceremony at little cost. However, city regulations usually prohibit pet burials, and this is not a good choice for renters or people who move frequently. To many, a pet cemetery provides a sense of dignity, security, and permanence. Owners appreciate the serene surroundings and care of the gravesite. Cemetery costs vary depending on the services you select, as well as upon the type of pet you have. Cremation is a less expensive option that allows you to handle your pet’s remains in a variety of ways: bury them (even in the city), scatter them in a favorite location, place them in a columbarium, or even keep them with you in a decorative urn (of which a wide variety are available). Check with your veterinarian, pet shop, or phone directory for options available in your area. Consider your living situation, personal and religious values, finances, and future plans when making your decision. It’s also wise to make such plans in advance, rather than hurriedly in the midst of grief.
8. What should I tell my children?
You are the best judge of how much information your children can handle about death and the loss of their pet. Don’t underestimate them, however. You may find that, by being honest with them about your pet’s loss, you may be able to address some fears and misperceptions they have about death. Honesty is important. If you say the pet was “put to sleep,” make sure your children understand the difference between death and ordinary sleep. Never say the pet “went away,” or your child may wonder what he or she did to make it leave, and wait in anguish for its return. That also makes it harder for a child to accept a new pet. Make it clear that the pet will not come back, but that it is happy and free of pain. Never assume a child is too young or too old to grieve. Never criticize a child for tears, or tell them to “be strong” or not to feel sad. Be honest about your own sorrow; don’t try to hide it, or children may feel required to hide their grief as well. Discuss the issue with the entire family, and give everyone a chance to work through their grief at their own pace.
9. Will my other pets grieve?
Pets observe every change in a household, and are bound to notice the absence of a companion. Pets often form strong attachments to one another, and the survivor of such a pair may seem to grieve for its companion. Cats grieve for dogs, and dogs for cats. You may need to give your surviving pets a lot of extra attention and love to help them through this period. Remember that, if you are going to introduce a new pet, your surviving pets may not accept the newcomer right away, but new bonds will grow in time. Meanwhile, the love of your surviving pets can be wonderfully healing for your own grief.
10. Should I get a new pet right away?
Generally, the answer is no. One needs time to work through grief and loss before attempting to build a relationship with a new pet. If your emotions are still in turmoil, you may resent a new pet for trying to “take the place” of the old—for what you really want is your old pet back. Children in particular may feel that loving a new pet is “disloyal” to the previous pet. When you do get a new pet, avoid getting a “lookalike” pet, which makes comparisons all the more likely. Don’t expect your new pet to be “just like” the one you lost, but allow it to develop its own personality. Never give a new pet the same name or nickname as the old. Avoid the temptation to compare the new pet to the old one: It can be hard to remember that your beloved companion also caused a few problems when it was young! A new pet should be acquired because you are ready to move forward and build a new relationship—rather than looking backward and mourning your loss. When you are ready, select an animal with whom you can build another long, loving relationship—because this is what having a pet is all about!
Copyright © 2002 by Moira Allen.
Reprinted from The Pet Loss Support Page — http://www.pet-loss.net
The world has just ended. Your pet—your friend, your confidante, the companion who was always there for you—has died. Dog, cat, horse, bird, hamster, ferret—species doesn’t matter. Age doesn’t matter. All that matters is the huge hole that has just entered your life. That, and the grief. Conventional wisdom suggests that I devote this column—call it “the moment after” column—to tips on how to start feeling better. But if your pet has died within the past few hours or days, you may not be able to even imagine feeling better. You may be wondering how you can even survive. You may also not want to feel better. Painful as it is, that ragged, miserable hole may seem all you have left of your pet, and you may not want to get rid of it just yet. The thought of “feeling better” too quickly may actually seem disrespectful. You may feel that you owe your pet a period of grief, of pain. “Feeling better” may seem a lot like “letting go,” and you may not be ready to do that yet. That’s OK. Grief and mourning aren’t some sort of awkward, embarrassing mental lapses that should be “gotten over” or “healed” as soon as possible. In reality, grief is our final expression of love, the last gift we have to offer. It isn’t to be rushed. Instead of trying to “get over it,” we must find ways to “get through it”—and that can take awhile. So, for this first column, I’m not going to talk about how to “heal.” I’m going to talk about how to survive.
Ten Ways to Hang On
When you face that huge emptiness inside, it’s tempting to just give yourself over to grief. At the same time, a certain amount of survival instinct reminds you that you still need to do something to keep going. But what? Grief makes it hard to think, to plan. What can you do to keep that hole from swallowing you?
1. Eat something.
You may not feel hungry, but food is important. Grief burns a lot of energy; you need fuel. Eat something that makes you feel good—and if that happens to be a huge slice of chocolate cake, well, this is no time to worry about your diet. Me, I like tomato soup; it reminds me of sitting warm and snug by a fire while the rain beats on the windows. If you can’t face a full meal, nibble. Eat now, whether you want to or not.
Cry as much as you want to, whenever you feel like it. Take the day off from work. If you can spend even one day crying whenever you need to, it will make it much, much easier to face the next day.
3. Find something to do.
This may seem trite, but focusing on a task really does help. Finding a project to complete, a task to accomplish, helps you focus on the world (and the “you”) that exists outside that hole. It’s not a distraction, and it won’t make your grief go away. It simply helps you adjust your perception, to recognize that while grief is part of your life, it isn’t the sum total of your life.
4. Count your blessings.
When you lose a loved one, it’s hard to focus on anything positive. Unless your circumstances are truly dreadful, however, chances are that your pet was not the only good thing in your life. Remind yourself of some of the good things that you still have by deliberately reviewing a list of your “blessings”—such as your family, your remaining pets, your friends, your interests. Review them in your head, or write them down. Again, these don’t fill the hole—but they do remind you that there is a world outside that hole, and that you are still part of it.
5. Reflect on things that don’t involve your pet.
The loss of your pet may seem to touch every aspect of your life, but in reality, it hasn’t changed everything. Reflect on the things it hasn’t changed—the things that you did and enjoyed without your pet. When my cat died of cancer, I forced myself to remember that “The loss of my pet doesn’t take away my ability to enjoy long talks with my husband. It doesn’t take away my ability to write. It doesn’t take away my ability to read a good book. It doesn’t take away my ability to create beautiful things. It doesn’t take away my ability to enjoy a long walk on the beach…” Focus on those things that your pet didn’t “touch” while it was alive—and you’ll be reminded of the things that haven’t really been “touched” by its death.
6. Cuddle something furry.
If you have another pet, give it some extra cuddle time—even though part of your mind is thinking that this isn’t the pet you want to cuddle. It’s still warm, and furry, and may be very confused and concerned right now. If you don’t have another pet, consider cuddling a stuffed animal. Spouses are nice, but you need fur. Curl up in bed with a stuffed animal and a heating pad; it’s lots better than lying in the dark wishing you had something furry to touch.
7. Avoid irrevocable decisions.
Don’t do anything you can’t undo. For example, if you can’t stand the sight of your pet’s toys, don’t throw them away—put them out of sight. A week or a month from now, you may wish you had them again, perhaps to incorporate into a memorial, and you’ll bitterly regret any hasty actions that can’t be undone. Similarly, don’t rush out and get a new pet until you’ve had time to think.
8. Replace negative imagery.
The last moments of your pet’s life can become a powerful image—whether you witnessed them or not. Unless you want that image to overwhelm your positive memories, start working on replacing it with something more pleasant. If you believe that pets go on to an afterlife, for example, try replacing the image of the “last” moment of your pet’s life with the “next” moment: The moment it arrives, healthy and whole, on the other side. What happens then? Who greets it? What does it do? Fill your mind with “the moment after.” If you don’t believe in an afterlife, concentrate on the special things you did for your pet to make this life a blessing for it.
9. Be honest with yourself.
You’ve been wounded, and you hurt. You’re not weak, crazy, or overly sentimental to feel this way. Even if you have to put on a “brave face” for the rest of the world, don’t try to fool yourself into thinking that you’re not really in all that much pain. If you cut your hand off, it wouldn’t help to get angry with yourself for bleeding—and losing your pet is a lot like losing a part of yourself. You will hurt, and it will take time to heal.
10. Make a decision to work through grief.
You’ve heard the saying, “Time heals all wounds.” That isn’t true. Time doesn’t heal all physical wounds (try cutting off your hand and just ignoring it!) — and it doesn’t heal all emotional wounds either. I’ve met people whose grief has persisted for years: They’re just as upset, just as angry, just as miserable over their loss as they were the day it happened. Such people tend to be consumed with bitterness, obsessing over their loss—and not only do they suffer, but they also bring suffering to everyone around them.
Grief is normal, but it is also seductive. It’s very tempting to let it “take over.” Before you do, think about how you feel today, and ask yourself if you want to feel exactly the same way in six months, or a year. Notice that I’m not asking you to decide how you want to feel today. Today, you may not have much choice—any more than you could choose not to feel pain if you were physically injured. Your decision about how to manage that injury, however, would be crucial in determining whether, a year from now, you are healed—or crippled. The same is true of grief. You can’t control whether or not you grieve. But you can decide whether or not to let that grief control you. And these ten “survival steps” are a good way to ensure that it doesn’t!
Copyright © 2002 by Moira Allen.
Reprinted from The Pet Loss Support Page – http://www.pet-loss.net