Visiting the Pet Loss Support Group

Dillon and I went to a Pet Loss Support Group recently at our local humane society. We showed a calendar that I made with photos of Winston. The photos inspired the therapist leading the group to exclaim, “He’s your child!” I was surprised, but then again the photos did show all the love that we lavished on Winston, including taking him to see Santa Claus one Christmas. It hurt to think of my deceased dog as my child, but it did express the intensity of the loss.

Ten people were at the support group, all grieving their dead dogs and cats. Hearing their stories helped me and Dillon feel that we are not so alone, that others have experienced such loss. We all sat in a circle. Both Dillon and I sensed (or imagined) that each pet was sitting behind its owner in a larger outer circle.

For me it was especially useful to hear the other side of various issues. For example, some people kept torturing themselves by wondering they had resorted to euthanasia too soon, while others felt anguish because they had waited “too long” for euthanasia, making their pets suffer just because the owner wasn’t ready to say goodbye. It’s a no-win situation.

I also kept thinking that we could have eased our grief if we had adopted a second dog a few years ago. Then at least we would not be completely dog-less now, left alone without any canine companionship or protection. However, people with multiple dogs were still in tears, missing their particular dogs.

Some people pointed out that Dillon and I are lucky to have each other as we grieve. Most of those present were single or splitting up. It felt good to count my blessings, which are many. As they pointed out, we also still have our cat. Sapphire seems to be missing Winston, too.

Everyone had a different story as they told the circumstances of their pet’s death. It put an end to my thoughts that getting a dog without hip dysplasia might make the end easier. No matter what the cause of death, the dying process was hard. I actually found myself feeling fortunate over Winston’s relatively peaceful passing. One couple described how their dog was fatally injured in a gruesome dog mauling attack.

Toward the end, the therapist brought up getting another dog. Nobody was ready yet, and we heard stories about the difficulty bonding with a dog adopted too soon after a beloved dog died. However, Dillon and I do want to adopt another dog someday, and we were perhaps more ready than some.

The therapist concluded by reminding us that, no matter what, when all was said and done, we all loved our pets. It was the right thing to say.

Afterward many of us strolled through the kennels where dogs were available for adoption. Among them was Super Pup, the Beagle puppy that I had thought I wanted to adopt. I had gone crazy with desire for that pup a few days earlier when I found her on the Internet, but all it took was one glance to see that she was not the right dog for us.

“She’s so SMALL,” Dillon exclaimed in horror, as if smallness was a terrible deformity.

Yes, we do like big boys. We’re trying to keep open minds and open hearts about what kind of dog to adopt next. When we are ready, I trust that the right one will join our pack.