Pet Loss Support Group helps

I resolved to go back to the pet loss support group at the local Humane Society after my recent grief meltdown. I needed it, even though I had never met anyone there who was still grieving a dog who died eight months earlier as Winston did.

I take that back -- the therapist who leads the group is still grieving for a dog who died several years ago. The therapist welcomed me back with open arms.

This time I cried at the support group as much as I did when Winston first died in February. I told them that I had spent the first few months focusing on (reviewing, sometimes regretting) my euthanasia decision, but now I am mostly remembering how special Winston was, and appreciating his good qualities. But when the therapist asked about my current feelings on euthanasia, I found that I still struggle with that, too. “I did the best I could at the time,” I mumbled.

It was especially helpful to hear the experiences of another woman who had lost a dog who sounded a lot like Winston -- naturally well behaved and socially adept. Her new dog was hard to manage like my new dog. This seems to be a pattern, because I also heard it at the online pet loss chat group.

The woman had gotten her new dog several years before the old dog died, but it was the same struggle that I have -- comparing the dogs, wondering why the second couldn’t be as good as the first. However, she was much further along in the process, so she was able to say that we owners contribute to the problem by comparing the dogs instead of accepting the new dog as is, the way we did with the first dog. Another pattern is that the spouse bonds more quickly with the second, “imperfect” dog. Maybe Winston only seems perfect to me because he was so attached to me, but he didn’t obey my partner as much. The dog’s beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It frees me to look at the new pup with fresh eyes and fall in love with his quirks as I did with Winston when we first met.

My next post will tell about an amazing experience that I had right after I left the support group.

Grief hits 8 months after dog died

Winston at his prime in 1999, when he was 3 years old

I had a meltdown last week, crying uncontrollably because I missed my dog Winston so much, about 8 months after he died.

The crisis was triggered by my new puppy’s misbehavior on a walk. We were walking past the house where one of his favorite dog-friend’s lives. At least, I was walking past. The pup stopped and refused to keep going. He’s a Great Dane puppy and at five months old he’s already too big for me to force him against his will if he gets really stubborn. I tried every recommended training technique, but in the end I’m sorry to report that I lost my temper and yelled at him. Naturally it didn’t do any good, just scared him. Somehow I managed to pull hard enough to get him moving again.

When we got home I started crying: “I’ll never have a friend like Winston to walk with me!” I couldn’t help thinking of how much better Winston acted on walks. Winston never refused to keep walking, and always had a grateful, upbeat attitude. I had been trying not to compare my new dog to Winston, but a flood of emotions overwhelmed me. I had to admit to myself that I have not gotten over the grief of Winston’s death. I even considered returning the new pup to his breeder because I couldn’t handle him.

That night I ended up going to the online chat group at PetLoss.com. The people there are lifesavers! I get especially great support from the “wolves” there -- regular participants with “wolf” in their nicknames. They come to help others while they themselves are still hurting from the loss of a beloved animal.

I went online to the pet loss chat group without resting as I should. And I stayed online for much longer than my body could handle. I ended up getting sick with tonsillitis. But I needed a place to process the grief, and they saved me from dangerously intense grief.

Some especially useful ideas from that night:

• ABSOLUTELY MOST USEFUL IDEA: When Princeton acts up, think about how I would have handled it if Winston did the same thing.

• After they die, our old dog sends us the new dog that they know will need us or will help us smile or that will comfort us. (So Winston picked out the wild new pup for me!)

• I’m not dishonoring Winston by loving the new pup. The old dog may even choose a new pup who is extremely different just so we won’t feel guilty for loving the new one in the same way.

• Sometimes we just have to blow off steam when the new dogs drive us nuts and then go back fresh the next day.

• “Those tears you still find glistening in your eyes for Winston are but a reflection of the love you share with him. The love for this new boy will shine in your eyes one day, but it will never replace that love for Winston.”

• “Amazing thing about a heart is that it will expand to capture all the love it can. You can love your lost baby to bits and yet also love a new baby that needs you.”

It’s been hard for me to see that the new pup needs me. He’s much more self-sufficient and independent than Winston. In addition, his breeder has a lifetime guarantee that if we ever can’t take care of him, we must return him to the breeder and she will make sure that he has a good home for the rest of his life. This is certainly a great lifetime protection for the pup, but it kind of has the reverse effect on me, making me question myself and wonder whether the pup would be better off with somebody else.

When the new pup acts up, it really helps to think, “What if Winston did this?” For example, when I was leash-training Winston, I used a long (25-foot) leash at first. With the new pup, I had always used the 6-foot leash. Now I use the long leash sometimes with the new pup, and he’s much happier on our walks.

The grief didn’t end there. I’m writing a series of posts about other steps I took to handle my grief explosion.

Winston, I still miss you

I’ll always remember Winston like this

I couldn’t help thinking of my dear departed Great Dane mix Winston last week when I was lying next to my new Dane puppy in the hallway. Winston used to lie in that same spot. I really missed my old Winston. I wished I had spent more time just lying next to him and snuggling after he became paralyzed and incontinent, instead of wasting precious time and money on a fruitless search for a cure. I know so many things now that I didn’t know before my dog died.

These are things that I learned because Winston died: That every breath is precious. That for me, having a dog makes life worth living. That taking care of Winston in his last weeks was not preventing me from living my life -- it WAS my life, and after my dog was gone, there was nothing else that I wanted to do except get another dog. That there are support groups online and at the Humane Society to provide emotional support for people whose dogs are dying. That I am stronger than I knew.

I learned these things because my dog Winston died. I would have handled it differently if I knew then what I know now, but his death was the only way I could have learned these hard truths. They are Winston’s gift to me, and I believe that teaching me these truths was part of his life purpose.

I’ve also learned that his death would have been just as hard even if I had handled it differently. Everyone at the pet loss support group wishes they had made different choices, but those who did choose differently have just as many regrets. I know that Winston was ready to go, and that his spirit rejoiced when it was set free to soar to the stars.

As I was thinking all this, the wind blew through the trees -- a sound that used to terrify Winston until the day before he died, when he listened to the wind without fear for the first time. He seemed to sense that he could become the wind. Some music started playing from next door, and the lyrics seemed to echo from Winston to me, and back again. “I miss you, I love you…”

That day my new puppy and I bonded. After 2 months of seemingly endless bite-fights, we could finally lie down on the floor together and rest. I love my new puppy, and the personality differences between him and Winston help me appreciate Winston in new ways, too.

The new pup is a purebred who was raised like royalty. He had never set foot outside until he joined our family at 8 weeks old. He is comfortable in crates and on leashes. He retreats to another room to sleep when he is tired. He likes dogs better than most people, and assumes that humans will love him. He has never known want or neglect. He takes everything for granted -- sometimes to the point of seeming like a spoiled brat -- but on the other hand, he has no insecurities about his future. Of course, he is still a puppy, so he will grow in wisdom.

In contrast, Winston came to us as a one-year-old street dog who had been abandoned by previous owners. He loved people and tried to win over every person he met, almost always with great success. He always showed gratitude for his life with us. The flip side was that he never trusted completely that this was his forever home. He couldn’t bear to be alone, even if we were just in another room. He had phobias, including major fear of confinement. I still have emotional scars from seeing the terror and misery and sense of betrayal on his face the first time we put him in a kennel. His fears eased during his years with us, but his gratitude and eagerness to please remained.

There’s been an almost complete turnover in the dog population of our neighborhood. Almost all the dogs who filled Winston’s life with fun and adventure are dead and gone. Only three of his original buddies remain, and all of them are stiff, grouchy and grizzled with old age.

Winston’s best friend was a female Pit Bull who lived across the street. Now Winston and his Pit Bull buddy are both in Dog Heaven, but our new puppy just found a new dog friend living down the street -- a female Pit Bull, the same as Winston’s best friend. My spirits soared as I saw the two dogs chasing and wrestling each other, just like Winston used to do with his old best friend. I felt that their spirits rejoiced and raced with the two new friends, another Dane boy and Pit Bull girl. Life goes on.

Here is my letter to Winston today:

Winston, I will always love you. Thank you for coming into my life and teaching me so much. No other dog will ever be quite like you.

I wish you could meet our new puppy. I know that you would love him -- and teach him a few lessons in dog etiquette, too!

I will love other dogs in other ways, but no other dog can ever take your place in my heart. I will never forget the way you looked at me, grateful and eager to please -- until the very end.

A friend told me that dogs don’t live as long as humans because, if it were the other way around, dogs couldn’t bear the grief and loneliness. I know that in your case, that’s true. You and I are always together in spirit.

You have gone down a trail where I cannot yet follow, but someday our journey will come full circle. We are still connected, and our paths will cross again.

New Great Dane puppy is here

Our new Great Dane puppy is here! He is cuter than cute, and we love him so much! He’s also full of mischief. One of our nicknames for him is Baby T-Rex because he loves to open his mouth wide and chew with his sharp baby teeth.

We’re struggling with how to manage him in the house. We tried to puppy-proof before he arrived, but we had a lack of imagination. He gets into EVERYTHING whenever he is awake. Yesterday I started keeping him tied on the leash a lot in the house. He’s more respectful, but he’s learning to hate the leash and to pull hard, so I don’t think that works. Tonight I pulled out a screen from a window and will try using it to block him in the hallway when I’m in my home office. I know I could just put him in the crate in the bedroom, but it seems wrong for him to be lonely there and me to be lonely here. The Dane-size crate is too heavy to move. The pup just needs a safe place to chew his toys for a while and fall asleep, a place that doesn’t demand my constant supervision so I can get some writing work done.

He’s 2 months old and in the midst of the critical period for puppy socialization, which lasts until 4 months old. So I will cut back on blogging so I can spend more time interacting with my puppy. I will probably start a whole new blog about the new puppy. I’ll let this one stand in honor of Winston.

I will probably not link this blog with my new blog, so if you want to continue following my adventures with my dog, please email me and I will send you info on the new blog. My email address is: LynwoodAssoc at aol.com.

Thanks to all those who visited, commented and enjoyed this blog.

Deposit on Dane pup

The high school kid next door suggested that I search for puppies on PennySaver.com. He was right! A super-cute litter of Harlequin and Merle Great Danes had just been born and listed.

I started visiting their website every few days to watch as the pups got bigger. It tugged at my heart as the cutest Harlequins got sold one by one. I showed the site to Dillon, but she wasn’t interested. We were too focused on adopting an adult dog. She told me that she didn’t think she could handle a puppy.

That all changed after we tried working with a rescue group. The rules were picky and sometimes crazy. Like this one: We were required to bring an imprinted tag to our adoption appointment saying “Needs medication,” even though it wasn’t true. The purpose was to discourage others from keeping our dog if he got lost.

And -- the adoption fees were almost as high as buying a Great Dane puppy. I kept doing research and learned that most reputable breeders want you to return the Danes to them if you can’t keep them, so that they will never end up in a rescue group or shelter. That meant that the Danes at the rescue were likely to be from careless breeders.

Dillon’s objections to training a puppy melted away when I reminded her of the obvious: They’re a lot smaller than adult dogs.

We looked at my favorite breeder’s website again with growing excitement. We filled out the online adoption application. It seemed easy because we had already done answered these questions before at the Humane Society and the rescue. We clicked the “submit” button and within an hour the breeder called us.

We hit it off right away on the phone. We said that we wanted to choose our puppy based on personality: “We’re looking for a male Merle or Harlequin Great Dane who is friendly, loving, tuned into people, and has a gentle, submissive temperament. We look forward to welcoming a new “big boy” into our home and hearts!”

One pup fit the bill: A cuuuuute merle mantle male. I also liked the looks of one Harlequin pup, but he was the runt of the litter with very low energy. The breeder said that she had already gotten four calls about him that day. Dillon and I got off the phone to discuss our decision. It wasn’t hard: We decided to adopt the merle.

We called right back and sent our deposit!

Now we have to wait until our puppy is eight weeks old in late June. Then he’ll be old enough to leave his mom and littermates. Meanwhile, the breeder is sending us weekly updates with photos of how our puppy is progressing.

Kitty's favorite toy is Cat Dancer

Our cat Sapphire misses having a dog around the house. She’s dealing with the loss by spending a lot more time playing with her favorite toy: the Cat Dancer Original Action Cat Toy.

The cat dancer is a wire with bits of rolled up paper on the ends. It’s the simplest, cheapest cat toy -- but cats LOVE it. Many reviews at Amazon.com attest to its fascination for kitties.

The cat dancer was also the favorite toy of our previous cat, the venerable Ambush.

Sapphire plays with the cat dancer in the video above.

Colossal Dane-size dog crate

Midwest Metals Big Dog Crate

I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around the idea of a dog crate big enough for a new Great Dane puppy that we hope to get.

There’s one “Colossal” crate that’s big enough for a full-grown Dane. It’s 45 inches tall -- that’s almost 4 feet! The length is 54 inches -- almost five feet. It’s three feet wide.

I kept walking around our bedroom with a yardstick, trying to imagine this massive crate in our space. It blew my mind. I just could not imagine it.

Our previous Dane had curled up happily under a table by the bed, no problem. But he came to us when he was a year old -- housebroken and well past the chewing stage when a puppy can be a danger to himself.

They call it a crate, but it’s actually a CAGE made of wires. Dillon and I didn’t like the idea of a cage, even though it’s for the safely of the pup. When people said “crate,” I had visualized a plastic box with a wire door like our cat carrier. But the biggest of these plastic crates is only (!) three feet high. I read that a Dane can be 33 inches at the shoulder at just six months old.

The plastic crates look more comfortable for the dog. Who wants to lie against wires? And doggie “accidents” can spray right through the wires of the Colossal crate, while the plastic crate contains it.

We figured that we don’t need a crate big enough to hold our Dane when he’s full grown. We can keep him in the hallway if necessary, and we’d like him to have the run of the house.

Finally we called our favorite Great Dane breeder with our concerns. She said the 3-foot plastic crate is big enough if we just want to keep our puppy in a crate until he is housebroken and done teething. She estimated that to be age 4 to 6 months.

What a relief! These 3-foot-high crates are cheaper, easier to find, and will fit into the bedroom without rearranging ALL the furniture.

P.S. on Oct. 16, 2008

OK, OK, I was wrong and all of you whose comments told me to buy the colossal crate were right. We DID end up buying this exact same crate recently and it’s working well for our Dane puppy. He outgrew the three-foot-high crate about a month ago. He was almost 5 months old -- still in the midst of teething and not safe to have the run of the bedroom. Now at almost 6 months old, he likes this colossal crate better than the old plastic one -- not only because it’s bigger, but because it allows greater air circulation and he can see what what’s happening in the room around him.

It definitely was more work to set up than the plastic type of crate. I had to hire a handyman to help. He laughed when he read the instructions, which never call it a cage or even a crate, but instead refer to it as a “pet home.”

All jokes aside, my Great Dane puppy does seem to consider it a peaceful, relaxing home of his own.