Thursday, May 31, 2012

The Stages of Grief When Losing a Pet

While you may already be familiar with the stages of grief, it never hurts to be reminded of them, especially when you are in the midst of a grief experience. These stages, first outlined by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross are universal and generally experienced in response to a sudden or overwhelming loss–be that of a person, a pet, a job, a relationship, a separation, etc. Intense grief is normal and it is by no means an indicator that something is wrong with you.

Grief is not necessarily a linear process and it is quite common to move between these stages, stay in one stage longer than another, or skip certain stages altogether. Grief is an individual process and there is no "correct" way to grieve, so be patient with yourself and your process. But most of all, allow it. The only way out of grief is through it.

PET LOSS STAGES OF GRIEF


Denial
In this stage there is often an experience of shock and disbelief that your pet is gone. As much as we anticipate and attempt to prepare for a pet’s death, we are never really ready for the sudden impact and finality of the loss. The defense system of the human mind often involves blocking out experiences that are overwhelming and distressing, so it is not unusual to initially be in denial of the reality that your pet is truly gone.

Anger
Death leaves us feeling out of control and powerless. Coming face to face with helplessness or the frustration that we couldn't do more can lead to angry feelings which may manifest in lashing out at others or being outraged over things that normally don't warrant such a response. There might be a tendency to blame others who had nothing to do with your pet's death. Resentments may build towards people who don't seem to understand the weight of your loss. 

Bargaining
This stage involves the hope that something can be done to change an inevitable situation. "If I do this..." "I should have, could have..." In terms of losing a pet, this stage is one that is often consumed by guilt. As a pet owner, you take on the responsibility to care for a pet throughout its life, so it makes sense that you might feel that you have let that pet down, or in some way failed to keep that pet from dying. Despite our best intentions, there is a limit to our ability to control things. In this stage we often wrestle with accepting this limit. 

Depression
Depression may be experienced throughout the mourning process. You might feel emotionally depleted or numb and small things in life are experienced as overwhelming. Low mood, physical fatigue, loss of appetite and overall feeling of despair are typical symptoms of a depressed state. Depression may bring on a tendency to isolate and withdraw.

Acceptance
In this stage, a sense of resolution and peace is reached with the situation, recognizing that the circumstances are what they are. There is less of an internal struggle with reality. Letting go of the hurt and pain does not mean letting go of your pet’s meaning in your life. Perhaps one of the greatest gifts pets can give us is that they teach us how to deal with loss, and can help us prepare and be better equipped to handle other losses in life. When you emerge on the other side of the pain of grief, you cannot help but be changed. Sometimes a stronger sense of self develops, and you may even redirect your life in a new way as a way to honor your pet and let that animal's life live on.

The grieving process is a normal part of the human experience. However, if you find yourself really "stuck" in any of the above stages for a prolonged period of time I would encourage you to seek help from a therapist (and certainly if you are considering harming yourself or others.) Sometimes the loss of a pet is a trigger for past unresolved losses or issues that are in need of exploration.

"Death ends a life, not a relationship." ~Jack Lemmon

Monday, May 28, 2012

The Disenfranchised Grief of Losing a Pet

Pet Loss Help: Disenfranchised Grief
Beloved Clue and friend Derek
Disenfranchised grief is a term used to describe grief that is not given adequate validation and recognition by society. Losing a pet is often an experience of disenfranchised grief. You may have been told "it’s just a dog," or "it’s just a cat," which may feel like your grief experience is being minimized. Well-meaning people may not understand that the loss of a pet evokes feelings as strong, or even stronger than the loss of a human relationship.

Pets are considered property in our legal system and the general sentiment projected in our culture is that losing a pet is not a significant loss–you can just "get a replacement." It's not unusual to feel ashamed and misunderstood by others when you are grieving a pet, and many people feel like they have to hide their grief and suffer in silence. This only adds to the pain.

If you are experiencing deep grief from the loss of a pet, you are entitled to it! There is nothing crazy or wrong about this experience. Your feelings are absolutely valid and a normal reaction for someone who has loved and bonded with an animal.

I encourage you to freely feel and experience the range of emotions likely to emerge during the grieving and healing process associated with losing a pet. It may help to seek out people who've been through a similar experience or to surround yourself with people with whom you can be your authentic self. Perhaps it would be helpful for you to express yourself in writing or in artwork. Whatever you are feeling, give yourself permission to honor those feelings and externalize them. Those feelings are legitimate.

Friday, May 25, 2012

We are all fluid, some words from Rumi

Grief can feel overwhelming when you are in the thick of it, and it is easy to forget that we are, in fact, fluid creatures and nothing is permanent. The happy moments, the sad ones and all the others in between—they flow throw us and are fleeting. If you are feeling particularly sad now, I want to remind you that these feelings are not forever. 

Losing a pet can bring on a host of feelings such as guilt, anger, depression and isolation. Instead of fighting these uncomfortable feelings, try inviting them in and allow yourself to sit with them for a few moments. I wonder what they might say to you, what you might learn by taking a closer look.

Rumi, the 13th century Muslim poet writes about this so eloquently in the poem, The Guest House.

Maxine on her perch
The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Quality of Life Scale - A useful tool in making the decision to euthanize

I had the opportunity to hear Dr. Alice Villalobos, a veterinary oncologist based in California give a talk about quality of life issues for terminally ill pets. The decision to euthanize a pet is fraught with so much guilt on both sides of the issue that it can be difficult to know which way is up. There is guilt about waiting too long, and risking your pet’s suffering and then there is guilt about making a decision too soon and ending the life of a pet when there are still more good days to be had. It’s not easy either way.

Dr. Villalobos has devised a Quality of Life Scale to help in making this difficult decision. It can be a useful tool that helps bring structure and objectivity to a decision that is typically clouded by emotions. Dr. Villalobos’ system assesses a pet’s quality of life on seven different levels: Hurt, Hunger, Hydration, Hygeine, Happiness, Mobility and More good days than bad (HHHHHMM).

No matter when you make the decision to euthanize a pet, it's going to hurt, but for a little more peace of mind that the timing is right, I suggest taking a look at this quality of life scale. You can download it here.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

And We Change Direction...

I recently attended a conference sponsored by the Association of Pet Loss and Bereavement. It was a learning experience in many ways, but perhaps most striking to me was the reason so many people were there. Certainly it was because of a shared love and respect for the human/animal bond, but in that general sentiment, there was something much more specific. I heard it multiple times, “I never thought I’d be here, but I had this cat…” “If it weren’t for that dog…” THIS cat, THAT dog. It became apparent that it was often one bond in particular that altered a person, a specific connection that shifts the direction of one’s life in an unexpected way. We see this all the time with people–a relationship, a chance meeting or loss of a special person leads to a new pathway, a new cause for which to advocate...

Yoda as a kitten, 1990
I suppose that is why this blog exists, and why helping people heal from the loss of a pet has become such a meaningful part of my work. I have always had an appreciation for animals, but it was my cat, Yoda, who changed me. Yoda came into my life as a kitten when I was thirteen years old and for the next seventeen years she was my best friend, child, and sister. I learned so much from her about friendship, unconditional love, forgiveness and loss. Her death was devastating to me, but eventually the pain of it lifted and she remains ever present in my heart. My life was better because she was in it, and part of the way I honor her memory is by helping others through their own grief.

Although there are moments when it may feel consuming and overwhelming, grief is a natural part of the human experience and it doesn’t last forever. It is my intent that this blog will offer insights, practical information and suggestions, a supportive voice and an empathic ear to all who are experiencing or anticipating the loss of a beloved animal friend. Losing a pet is a profound loss, one that is not always accepted as significant in our society. I hope that this space will serve as a way to normalize and acknowledge the painful feelings associated with losing a pet and offer a place for those who are suffering to feel not so alone.

Animals are not a replacement for human connections, but they offer a unique relationship that can greatly enhance our human experience—with ourselves and with others. I look forward to connecting with you, and I thank all our four-legged friends for bringing us together.