canine loss

Do Pets Grieve the Passing of Another Pet?

Posted by Barbara Techel

g outsideDo pets grieve the passing of another pet? My honest answer to that is that I truly don’t know. I’ve personally not experienced this with any of my dogs, but I’ve read where others truly believe their pet is grieving.

I’ve gotten emails now and then asking me how Kylie has dealt with the passing of Frankie and then Joie. If she was missing them, I didn’t witness it. I recalled after Frankie passed away, and then Joie ten months later, that when I posted a photo of Kylie shortly afterwards, some people said she looked sad – that she must be grieving. But honestly, Kylie just has that kind of face. Ever since she was a pup, people have said she looks sad. But from what I could tell and see, she didn’t seem to be at a loss with Frankie and Joie gone.

K emailed me today asking this question again wondering about Kylie and how she did after Frankie and Joie died. She shared with me that two months ago she lost her beagle mix due to complications of liver cancer. She was 14.5 years old. Her other dog, Pixie, a golden retriever who is 11 years old she said has been having a hard time without the beagle mix. She stated that Pixie has always been a momma’s girl and a “velcro pup” and that she relied on KC for her confidence. She said it now seems that Pixie is sad.

K has a two hour commute to work daily and getting another dog as others have suggested, does not feel right to her being that she is gone so much for her job. She felt that me being home more with Kylie is what helped Kylie with any difficulties when Frankie and Joie passed away. Again, I personally didn’t witness any difficulties for Kylie.

So while I don’t have a definitive answer to this and how to best help, I’ve come to see and understand something about animals I didn’t always see. I believe that our pets are often times a reflection of what is going on inside of us. If we are sad, they will pick up on that. If we are anxious, nervous, or concerned, they will pick up on that, too. Is this always the case? No, I don’t believe so. But I do think it is in more cases, than not. In Kylie’s case, I grieved deeply the loss of Frankie and Joie, but she seemed to be fine. Maybe another dog wouldn’t have been. I don’t know.

I don’t know that they grieve like humans do, but I do believe they feel things. They may miss the presence of a pet that was their companion. I also believe that animals aren’t afraid to die.

In regards to Kylie, I actually think she enjoyed the one on one time with me in-between the loss of Frankie and then Joie, before I adopted Gidget. But she has also been great in adapting each time I brought a new pup into the household.

So I know I’m not really answering the question directly, as I do believe we each know our pets best. If you feel they are sad, perhaps taking them for an extra walk or playing with them more often than usual will help them as they adjust. I also read an article where it said to keep their schedule to as normal as possible. This makes sense to me.

While K said to me she couldn’t afford to talk with an animal communicator right now, which is a suggestion of mine, I do strongly believe it can hold valuable insight not only for your pet, but for the pet owner, too. I’ve personally experienced animal communication in powerful ways that healed me in ways I never expected. I also believe that has helped me be a better person for my dogs.

You can certainly take to the Internet and ask this question via Google and get a wide variety of answers. But I come back to what I believe about pets and that they are here to help us be better people. This means being open to looking inside ourselves and what we may be reflecting out into the world that we may not even be aware of.

My other suggestion is to seek out a pet loss support group (check with your vet’s office). For years I was a volunteer for a local group in my area. While they are usually there to support humans through the grieving process, they may be able to offer resources or suggestions in regards to pets grieving the loss of another pet.

Lastly, I know there will be a huge differing of opinions to this question. But I also think it is a great time to be with the question and really look at it within your own life and what you can learn from it.

Reflecting on a Year Since Frankie Died- A Celebration of her Life

Posted by Barbara Techel

frankie photo from kristiI never really said goodbye.

No goodbye because I continue to feel the love of Frankie in my heart.

No goodbye because I made the conscious choice before she died to deeply inhale the smell of her, embrace the feel of her warm, soft body, and sit with the memories of the joy and love she gave me.

No goodbye because I want every June 21st to be a celebration of Frankie’s life and all those she touched.

I honestly don’t know if I believe in the rainbow bridge. That is hard for me to share, as I realize many do. It’s not my intent to dishonor what is right for others. I understand it’s a way for many in dealing with, and moving through, their own loss. I respect that.

I believe Frankie and I are still together–she is just in a place I can’t see. But I trust she is where she needs to be–wherever that is. So I’m not sure she is waiting on the other side of a bridge.

I’m also not sure if she is really some “place”, but rather it feels as if she is  this illumination of divine light and love that makes my heart smile when I think of her. The love and light seems to come and go at just the right time when I need it.

To me, she is just here in a different way. A lighter way. A deeper way, and in many ways, a more meaningful way.

Reflecting on other pets I’ve lost, they were all hard. But Frankie’s passing was the most difficult to date I’ve experienced.

The beauty of it though?

How I’ve grown deeper in my spirituality once again, and in my own way of dealing with a profound loss.

I allowed the grief to swallow me at times. I swam in it, and almost felt as if I’d drown, feeling deeply every inch of the pain of losing her. I didn’t try to run from how bad my heart hurt. At times, it was so intense I honestly didn’t think I’d move through it. But I called upon my faith more than any other time that I can recall. I reminded myself to believe I’d find my way back to happy again.

I did. This, to me, is honoring the ultimate blessing that Frankie truly was to me– to many.

When I now feel joy, I feel it even more magnified for having moved through something I thought would crush my heart into tiny pieces.

I see now that my purpose grew even more defined. Caring for a dog that would become paralyzed was not a choice I would have made for my life. But then wanting to someday love another little one with special needs was something my soul yearned for as I moved through the years with Frankie.

The gift of Frankie, who opened my eyes to something I may never have otherwise seen.

I feel in a good place these days with Frankie at peace in a place that makes her happy. It’s no longer about her helping me, but a place that she can simply be. A place in my heart that rests easy in knowing we will always be connected in our own, unique way. A knowing that I can go on, and I am going on. That I will love again, and am loving again.

It took work for me to get here. Real work of accepting my process. Real work of allowing sadness to seep into every inch of my being. Real work of trusting I’d find joy again… even though Frankie’s physical presence is no longer here to remind me of how far I’ve come.

Reflecting back, I’d do every bit of life with Frankie all over again knowing my heart would shatter like nothing I’ve felt before.

And now… being fully present to this moment, here and now, I give my deepest gratitude for the love of Frankie who brought me to this time of now loving and caring for little Joie.

No goodbyes… only a journey that continues in just the way it is meant to be.

I. am. Blessed.

**The Life and Legacy of Frankie lives on with National Walk ‘N Roll Dog Day.  Join us on Facebook to continue to spread the positive message that dogs in wheelchair live quality lives if given a chance.