Some thoughts about death and dogs. Do people mourn flowers? I hope not.
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What troubles me is not the fact that I will die one of these days, but that I might not have lived. Aging makes every day precious to me, and understanding that the end of life is not morbid but a great opportunity.
Almost every day, someone messages me to tell me that their dog, their great friend and companion has died, and they don’t know how to handle it. They want help and guidance.
I tell them I am not a therapist, and if they are struggling to deal with the death of something they loved, and can’t get past it, they need a professional analyst, not me. I am sorry for them, truly and sincerely, but my own idea about death, for dogs, for people, is different from most of the people I hear from or know.
They are seeking comfort from me because I write about dogs and love them, not because I know more than they do. I am sorry to see or hear that their dogs die, and shed some tears in the days after mine are gone. But I do not mourn them or grieve for them for weeks or months or especially, for years.
I give thanks for their time with me and I start looking for another wonderful dog. In the time of a score of my dog deaths, I have never failed to find another dog that loved me and that I love as much.
I don’t really need any other person to tell me that dogs do not live long in human terms, and loving them will inevitably mean letting them go, in life as in death. People who love dogs, as I do, should have one. Dog have always helped us, not make us miserable. In return, I won’t let them suffer.
Millions of dogs are driving homes and spending their lives traped in crates – another thoughtless and cruel gift of the Animal Rights movement – because they insist letting them die or helping them to die is yet another form of abuse. They got it wrong, as usual. The real tragedy for dogs who can’t die is to spend years and years in crates without hope. I would never wish that fate on any dog of mine or any other dog.
That’s more or less the way I deal with the death of a dog. I hope it helps some people, I know it does not help most people. I know many people would disagree. It don’t need to be agreed with, just to be honest about my feelings.
The wonderful thing to me about humans is that everyone is different.
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Zip has a whole new range of hideouts and castles. He loses to look out at his kingdom. Some mice usually regrets it.
I can tell ( I believe) that you have your Leica back? great pics..
Susan M
Thank you
I’m definitely with you about the death of a dog (or other pet, for that matter). I cry over them for a day or two and then start looking for my next one. And what I’ve discovered is that each dog I own is the best dog I’ve ever had! They are all different, but they are all the best.
Jon, I have always enjoyed your thoughts and pictures about dogs, death, dying, aging and living. as they closely mirror mine. I don’t cling to anyone or any being so desperately that to lose them would trap me in a prison of grief so much so that I couldn’t fully live. I feel like that would dishonor them and the love that we shared. I have had and have the privilege of loving many people, dogs, cats, some horses – and my life is made delicious and full by that love. Each has added something special to my life, and my God, how grateful I am for that. I believe that staying curious, healing your old wounds and boundaried service to others is the antidote to the black dog of grief, loneliness, and other mental ills of being human. I understand that everyone’s circumstances are different, and not everyone can feel this way. I’ve fought my old demons to get here, to this place of understanding, acceptance and personal accountability. I continue to be curious and want to grow. Thank you as always, for your inspiration.
So thoughtful Karla, thanks