Brandy was the best dog ever. We got her when I was in diapers. She was a cross between a German Shepard and a Terrier. She loved to play fetch and once you started, she would put that slimy ball in front of you for hours. One of my favourite things about Brandy is that she couldn’t swim. She always looked like she was swimming but if you had goggles or a mask on you would see she was just walking underwater. My Dad had to rescue her on more than one occasion because she would “swim” out in lakes to get sticks or whatever else we threw into the water. Determined to fetch, she would get in over her head and then need rescuing.
She was a smart dog and loyal. If I was sick, or just being a moody tween, Brandy would sit and listen to all I had to say. All she asked for was the occasional tummy rub.
When I was 14 years old and home for lunch one day I heard the sound of thumping on the floor above me. When I went upstairs to investigate, I saw Brandy disoriented and foaming at her mouth. She couldn’t walk but she tried really hard. It was heart breaking. The next few months were pretty torturous for all of us. Brandy was having seizures. They weren’t entirely sure why. The vet tried some medication. Brandy was so doped up that she would get stuck in corners of the house and not know how to get out. Her personality began to change with each seizure.
After a while she would go through moments that she clearly didn’t recognize us any more and she would start to growl. I was watching my loyal friend slowly die. My parents didn’t want to put Brandy down. They wanted to make sure that we tried everything first. I think they knew how hard it was going to be on all of us. But it was time. If you talk to my parents now they will tell you it was a mistake to keep her around as long as we did. We all just wanted to hang on to some hope.
I remember clearly the day my parents made their decision. Brandy hid under my brother’s bed and wouldn’t come out. I remember calling her to come to me, and in the last hours of her life, she finally responded and came out only to be taken to the vet. Instead of seeing the joy in that last glimpse of recognition, for years I felt like on some level I killed my dog because I got her out from under that bed.
At 14 I had no skills to deal with this loss. I had a pretty sheltered life, a good childhood and a stable home. No one in my life had ever died. Brandy’s death at that time in my life was devastating. The idea that my life would always include not just Brandy but everyone I loved was shattered. Looking back I can tell you that many things started going down hill for me from there. The next few years were difficult to say the least. It didn’t all have to do with my dog’s death but like in any grief, it triggered many things for me that I wasn’t prepared to deal with.
Any grief is complicated. Loss of a pet can be complicated too. Many people don’t recognize the loss of a pet as a legitimate reason to grieve. They ignore their feelings or hide them because they are ashamed. After all “it is just a dog.” This attitude can have negative consequences to those who are struggling to find support, especially children. It is never helpful to judge other’s grief. It only puts up walls in relationships and creates emotional baggage for all.
My first loss helped prepare me for other losses in my life and it taught me how much I love animals. We convinced my parents years later to get another dog. Keltie was every bit as important to me. Even though she wasn’t nearly as smart, she was just as loyal. She never figured out fetch but she could run and herd us like no one’s business. She was part Whippet. This year we got Bailey, a German Shepherd cross. Our family consists of four people, two cats and a dog. Because of my relationships with my dogs, I wanted my kids to grow up with that kind of unconditional love.
It is funny how things sometime come full circle. My first experience of loss was my beloved pet and that started me on a career as a Therapist that specializes in grief. Recently I was asked to partner with Part of the Family: Pet Memorial Centre to provide some of their clients grief therapy. They are a funeral home for our furry friends (and those without fur, too). I know how people love their pets and how difficult it can be when they aren’t there to greet us when we come home. Sharing their grief may help ease the hurt and remind them of the joyful memories.
Why do we have pets? An african man once laughed at the idea of having a pet and even more at providing food for it. He simply thought we were crazy..