canine grief

Closure in Pet Grief. Interesting Thought Regarding My New Book I’m Working On.

Posted by Barbara Techel

IMG_1533 sepia(One of my favorite photos of Joie.  She loved to sit by my screen door in my writing cottage and watch the birds splash in the bird bath right outside the door. )

Thank you to everyone who has emailed me expressing their excitement in the new book I’m working on, which I announced just a few days ago. It really means a lot to me to hear from you whether you are part of  my Facebook community, blog, or are a newsletter subscriber.

The working title is, Joie’s Gift- Finding Purpose in the Pause. As with working titles, that means it could change as I get into the heart of writing this book. When I said I’ve just begun, I truly have, with about 4,500 words written so far.

But I must correct myself in that I’ve been working on this new idea much longer than the actual writing, words typed into a word document, as it’s been swirling in my head for a little over two months.  And before that, I always hoped I’d have a new idea after writing Through Frankie’s Eyes, so in essence I never stop “writing.” I’m also starting to lean more toward a subtitle of Finding Meaning in the Pause. Will see as I keep going.

Today I want to write about the idea of closure after the death of a pet, after receiving an email from a loyal blog follower.  She is thrilled about me writing a new book (thank you) and went on to say, “a book that just might provide closure about Joie, because her early passing was a tragedy, and happened at the WORST possible time given how you were Over The Moon, about her being in (the movie) “The Surface”.”

I don’t feel this book is about helping me find closure. Though I felt so unprepared for her sudden death and deeply saddened losing Joie so unexpectedly, I came to eventually find peace, as well as many gifts that revealed themselves when I took the time to really give thought to her life, as well as, her death.  This is what I hope to share in my new book. The gifts that Joie gave me in helping me see a little deeper into myself. How important it is to take time to pause at certain times in our lives. The value and meaning we can gain in being still instead of rushing right back into “doing” again.

I also don’t even know if I truly believe there is such a thing as closure. I go back and forth in my mind about this one. For me, it feels more about finding acceptance and peace. It’s about looking for the gifts my animal friends have given me, whether they were here for a day or twenty years.  No matter the amount of time, when they leave, it is never gets easier to say goodbye.

As I’ve moved through the grieving process of each of my dog’s, I’ve found peace and comfort  in reflecting back on the lessons they taught me.  For me, those lessons never go away, because I am a changed and better person because of what they’ve taught me. I consider these gifts and gifts that continue to be a shining presence in my everyday life. For me, this means they live on always and I feel then there is no closure, but rather, gratitude that I was given the opportunity to be a part of their lives and learn from them.

800 x 100

Life Uncommon: My First Connection to the Other Side

Posted by Barbara Techel

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERACassie Jo, April 2005

Maybe it’s because it was the first Christmas without her that I relate the song by Jewel, Life Uncommon to her. And maybe it is because of her I think of this song because she taught me to start living my life by my own definition.

In July 2005 we said goodbye to our chocolate Lab, Cassie Jo, who died from bone cancer. A cancer typical in the breed, but not typical in where her tumor was located. On her hip, and partially grown into her spine. Nothing we could really do for treatment for her, but try an experimental drug. We brought her home and loved her more deeply than ever for the remaining time we had with her.

There’s a line in the song, “set down your chains.” John related that to Cassie Jo finally being free of the cancer that invaded her body for eight months. The next line, “till only faith remains” would be my test to build my faith that I will see her again one day– that we would always be connected– even when death took her away from me physically.

Each Christmas John and I have a tradition of taking a drive, looking at all the holiday decorations lit up at night. Christmas 2005, our first one without Cassie Jo joining us for the ride.

It would become a tradition to play Jewel’s Christmas CD as we made our way throughout a few small towns near our home.

As the song Life Uncommon came on I felt tears well up in my eyes. My heart ready to crack wide open thinking of, and really missing, Cassie Jo. The ache deep wishing I could hug her once again.  I also wanted to know if she was okay.

The moon so bright that night. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I looked out the car window, the Christmas lights on the homes a blur. It was then I saw her.

Galloping like a small pony, ears flying in the wind, a smile on her face. In my head I heard her say, I am happy and free. I’m okay.

For some time after that I questioned whether or not I really saw her. Was it really just my imagination?  Did I truly see her or was it just an image I made up?

The more I have lived into my faith and truth, the more I know I did see her. She was there. I believe this. Since then, I’ve had more experiences such as this with animals that have passed. I consider it a great gift to experience visits from the other side. It brings me much comfort.

For quite sometime after Cassie Jo passed and that moment, I felt her guiding me, becoming my spiritual guide. She was the heart dog who started it all for me. She helped me to get out of my own way and start taking steps into who I really wanted to be. She is why I became a writer.

Merry Christmas, my sweet Cassie Jo. Though you rest higher in spirit now, I always think you this time of year.  I just wanted you to know. Though I think you already do.

800 x 100

Thank You to My Local Media, The Sheboygan Press for Story in Series, “A Reason to Celebrate.” Gidget Makes the Front Page!

Posted by Barbara Techel


Video and article credit, The Sheboygan Press, reporter , Kali Thiel 

Wagging tales: Local author finds meaning after pet’s passing

This is one in an occasional series of stories to be published during the holiday season about Sheboygan-area residents who have “A Reason to Celebrate.”

It’ll be the second Christmas Barbara Techel will celebrate without her beloved wheelchair-bound dachshund, Frankie, and the first without Joie, another disabled dog she adopted after Frankie died. But the Elkhart Lake author says she still has plenty to be thankful for this holiday season.

Techel and Frankie were well-known for years through her children’s books, including “Frankie the Walk ‘N Roll Dog,” as well as her web site and newsletters. She also had Frankie certified to be a therapy dog and regularly paid visits to people living in hospice care or stopped at area schools for speaking engagements.

But Frankie died in the summer of 2012. In February she memorialized Frankie in a new book, “Through Frankie’s Eyes: One Woman’s Journey To Her Authentic Self and the Dog on Wheels Who Led the Way,” which recently won the Royal Dragonfly Book Award for literary excellence.

The book tells the story of Frankie and the lessons Techel learned from her dog.

“I was so afraid that people would judge me that I put my dog in a wheelchair,” Techel said. “But it really taught me, because I would watch her and she didn’t realize she had a wheelchair. It was her tool to live her best life.

“And I can remember, I can still see it in my head, she was rolling around on the grass and I just looked at her and I thought, ‘Oh my god, the lesson for me is to be proud of who I am and live by how I want to live my life and not how society might determine that or others might think my life should be,’” she said.

When Frankie died, Techel decided to adopt another special needs dachshund, Joie, who had the same intervertebral disc disease as Frankie, which caused her to need a dog wheelchair as well.

Little did Techel know that Joie’s time with her would be so short-lived. She adopted Joie on Oct. 13, 2012 and she died a little less than a year later in August.

“It was really hard for me to lose Joie so quickly after Frankie and I really kind of went into myself and I thought, ‘What the heck? I don’t understand why that happened,’” Techel said.

What helped her come out of her grief was the realization that there were other dogs she could help. Just a few weeks ago, Techel adopted Gidget, another special needs dachshund.

bildePhoto credit Kali Thiel of The Sheboygan Press

read rest of the story on line here!

For complete gallery of photos taken during interview visit here.