Grief goes on, and so will this blog

After my latest grief meltdown, I realized that this blog must continue -- for me and for others. For others because I keep getting comments and emails from readers who say that this blog is really helping them face the end of their own dog’s life. I know from experience that there are very few places online that address the death of a beloved pet. I am honored that Winston’s story has value for them.

And this blog must continue for me because I will always love Winston. Grieving his death will be a lifelong process. I will never forget him for as long as I live, and there will be times when I will want and need to write about it.

I believe that his spirit lives on and visits sometimes, and our relationship continues to grow until we meet again at the place that some call the Rainbow Bridge and others call Dog Heaven.

Grief for old dog blinds me to new pup

My grief over Winston’s death has been blinding me to my new pup’s needs. After the pet loss support group, I had a breakthrough. A few days after processing my built-up Winston grief, it dawned on me that maybe the new pup can’t see well out of one eye. It explains a lot of his behavior quirks.

The realization that the pup may be visually impaired had a heartwarming effect on me. I finally feel that he does need me. And I also feel that he may have many other qualities that I have not yet noticed, unexpected gifts that will enrich our lives.

Chuck is back!

Sweet Dane mix is ready for a good home

Chuck is available again -- under the name Shaka. He’s a sweet Dane mix in the Los Angeles North Central Animal Shelter, which is known for putting many unwanted dogs to sleep.

I almost adopted Chuck last spring. I came across a new listing for him a few days ago when I was looking for the Dane photo in my last post.

Chuck stole my heart last spring and I wrote a post about him called “Great Dane mix Chuck charms us.” But he’s five years old, and we thought that we wanted a young dog. Somebody else adopted Chuck, and we adopted a purebred Great Dane puppy. But I often thought back to sweet old Chuck, and wondered what might have been.

He’s listed as a Dane-Dalmatian mix, but I think he’s a Dane-Collie mix, with very soft lamb-like fur and a slender Collie snout. He’s only 83 pounds, quite a bit smaller than a purebred Dane. He’s already neutered and seems perfectly healthy.

I went to see him again over the weekend. (I must be crazy!) He was scared at first, but he became his friendly self again when an attendant took him out of his kennel to meet me. “He’s an escape artist,” the attendant said. He explained that he had been picked up three more times by L.A. Animal Services, and his new owners relinquished him because “they got tired of bailing him out.” Visiting Chuck somehow helped ease my grief over Winston.

I would like to make sure that Chuck finds a home, and is not euthanized -- which is a real possibility. He’s in the Los Angeles North Central Animal Shelter, which is known for putting many unwanted dogs to sleep. If you’re interested, his ID# is A0939560, and you can call (888) 452-7381 for info.

Purebred Danes surprise me at shelter

This is one of the Great Danes who cheered me up at the shelter

I had an amazing experience in the animal shelter right after the Pet Loss Support Group meeting. I walked among the cages, visiting the dogs. I went there many times in the months after Winston died, always hoping to find another Great Dane or Dane mix. Nothing.

But this time I turned the last corner, expecting to see more Pit Bulls, and there stood two gorgeous two-year-old purebred Great Danes! One was a Harlequin female, and her mate was a mantle male. They had been turned in by their owner.

I fell in love with them and spent a long time looking at them and talking to them. I tried to imagine my new pup full-grown and as big as they were. The staff said that the Danes were “too much dog” for the owner, and that the owner couldn’t afford to feed them anymore. I longed to adopt the pair of them, and couldn’t imagine how anybody could give them up. Yes, I know it’s irrational, when I had my own half-grown Dane pup at home that I was struggling to handle. But that was my true feeling, and it renewed my spirit. I returned home with a heart full of love for my new pup, and new resolve to love him for exactly who HE is.

I found out from the staff that both Danes were already reserved for new homes, so they are having a happy ending, too.

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.