I was waiting until I "got over" my dog Winston's death before I did some stuff... then this week I realized that I will NEVER get over it. So I might as well live my life as best I can without Winston by my side.
It's been close to 10 months since he "moved on."
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
My dog came back from heaven
We took the new Great Dane pup to an outdoor coffee shop where we used to take Winston. They happened to have a street fair, so we walked through it, having lots of fun as people petted and marveled over our new Great Dane puppy.
We stopped to listen to a live singer-guitarist, and she launched into “I Will Remember You” by Sarah McLaughlin -- the very song that I played over and over in Winston’s last weeks, while he was dying…!
I will remember you.
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by.
Weep not for the memories.
It brought tears to my eyes as I felt Winston with us. But I knew that he wanted me to have fun, not cry because I still miss him.
We stopped to listen to a live singer-guitarist, and she launched into “I Will Remember You” by Sarah McLaughlin -- the very song that I played over and over in Winston’s last weeks, while he was dying…!
I will remember you.
Will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by.
Weep not for the memories.
It brought tears to my eyes as I felt Winston with us. But I knew that he wanted me to have fun, not cry because I still miss him.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Chuck is back!
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.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Purebred Danes surprise me at 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.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
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.
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.
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