THE LIFE AND DEATH OF A PET

Make no mistake!  If an animal companion, a pet, is part of one’s daily life, in most cases, that companion holds a precious place in the household.  It is more than a fixture or an accompaniment, like soft music in the background, or aromatherapy in the air.  That pet is a living being that interacts with and is dependent upon the humans in the home.  Most often it gives unconditional love to its caretakers, and for some folks, that companionship provides meaning and stimulation to a very tired life.  Research has shown that elderly individuals, especially those who live alone, have better health, and take better care of themselves, if they have the care of and companionship of a pet.

We even talk to our pets, especially when no one else is around.  You can’t exactly say we converse with our pets, but there is certainly an emotional exchange that takes place, much akin to conversation.  You can see it in the way a cat or dog looks at you or even studies you.  And every loved animal lets you know somehow, what they need or want. It’s embodied in what writer Bronwen Wallace once encapsulated for the Kingston Whig-Standard: “The words converse and conversation carry the sense of ‘living or having one’s being in or among others’.”  She added, that when she saw meaningful exchanges, of whatever kind, she would think, “I know that something else is being shared along with the words, something large and powerful and vital that includes and strengthens us all.”

But there are considerations that must be taken into account, when we undertake the care of and responsibility for pets.  Especially as we grow older, we must do some thinking in their behalf.  Do we have a back-up care for them if we become disabled temporarily?  And if our disability is more long-term, do we have an alternate home that would gladly receive them permanently?  We shall have far less to worry about and regret, if the end of our life is in sight, and we have made adequate provisions for those creatures so dependent upon us.  It is the least we can do in gratitude for what they have given us!

A dear friend, widowed some time ago, has been left with the care of a thirteen-year-old dog, much beloved by her late husband.  Recently the dog has had some health problems and my friend has had to “look death in the face again.”  She and I have e-mailed back and forth about what to do in the face of the dog’s obvious aging and eventual demise.  For the time being, a medication that has helped our beagle-spaniel from time to time, has proved helpful and increased the quality of life for her dog.  She wrote with gratitude how her dog had seen her through her husband’s death and over a year of grieving that has followed.  But she knows too, that before too long, there will be, “A hard, painful, giving-up moment.  It is always painful to let go.” (from The Gift of Death’s Mystery.)

Thirty-six years ago, I too had a very old dog, one I dearly loved, one who had seen me through good times and bad.  She was old and failing, but I did not move quickly or decisively enough to spare her an untimely death.  She ran away one day, and I never found her though I searched. She probably collapsed from a heart condition, but I was not there to hold her.  Every year, on the anniversary of her leaving us, I am filled with regret that I did not exercise the responsibility I should have.  However, her living and dying as she did, taught me to be more responsible concerning the three dogs that have followed her, as members of our household.  So, I can say with Robert Louis Stevenson, “Every heart that has beat strongly and cheerfully has left a hopeful impulse behind it in the world, and bettered the tradition of mankind.”  I can certainly say that, with regard to the legacy left me by that beloved mongrel so long ago.

Dear readers, if you yourself do not have a pet, you may not understand the depth and reality of grief your pet-owning friends endure when one of their pets dies.  But it is very real.  I have been heartened recently to observe in the racks of greeting cards, those cards which address the loss or death of a pet.  One misses the sound of tinkling tags attached to the dog’s collar, or the patter of feet through the rooms of a house, and especially the greeting of a wagging tail or a loud purring when you enter the house from outside.  We human beings miss being needed by these creatures so dependent upon us for their care and their very existence.  Bear with us, as we grieve the loss of a non-human “dear friend.”

Through the years, I, and many others, with thanks to the “Dear Abby” column, have found comfort from the final words of “A Dog’s Prayer,” authored by dog-owner Beth Norman Harris.  Ms. Harris beautifully describes a dog’s needs through the years, its requests of its master or mistress.  Then she concludes the dog’s entreaty with this final request:  “And, beloved master, should the Great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you.  Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest…and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.”  To this we can only add a grateful, heartfelt “Amen.”  May all our good creature friends rest in peace!