New Grief

I have known about grief for sometime now...starting with the intensity of losing my mother, 15 years ago next month. That was something I was never prepared for and believed nothing could compare in my lifetime. When I lost my father, well, as intense as the loss of the second parent is, it had a beautiful element to it because he believed that through the suffering of Jesus, his sins would be redeemed and he would live eternal life with my mother. I learned a lot about this life, and the life hereafter, through his life and his passing. It was a profound loss in many ways. We "nursed" him through several weeks of cancer and I learned what would become invaluable lessons for my not so distant future. As he passed quietly and with dignity in our home, and I watched his soul leave his body, and his body leave my home, I never could have imagined what the future would hold. But, as I know and believe now, God had a plan then, and He has one for everything that happens to us along the way.

I was in no way prepared to lose a child. Yet, in reflection, I see the lessons God had in mind and how all the pieces of my life fit together to assist me through that exact circumstance. I cannot say it always makes sense, and I still, so often, cannot believe I am living this life, but I can say that God uses situations and experiences to prepare us for the next. In some ways, that is why I am so perplexed by the "new grief" of losing our beloved pet, Barkley. I guess I just didn't know that a dog offered so much, asking so little. I suppose I didn't realize that everything and anything we did for the last seven and a half years revolved around our boy, known as Sir Barkley, the Senator, the Master, the King of all dogs. I suppose everyone feels that way about their dog, but one would have to know the whole story to fully appreciate the saga and the loss felt by this family.

There was shock rippling through any and all who knew me when it came to the fact that Barkley was allowed and approved to come live in our home! To this day, I say it must have been a menopausal moment that urged me to say yes! That, and the never ending, incessant desire of Allison to have a family dog, one she could call her own, but that could be ours! And boy, did he become OURS! He was found by Aunt Kathy in a pet shelter and she immediately had the "feeling" he would be the right one. And after Allison met him, well, it was love at first sight. I knew it and I felt the timing was right, BUT my father was being cared for by all of us in our home, Allison's grades had been slipping, my job was becoming ever more demanding, and I just didn't know. Would he fit in? Would he make a mess? What do I do with a dog in the house? Well, the answer became a hesitant YES, but with many rules and stipulations. Needless to say, those were abandoned very quickly. Barkley was right at home from the start, estimated to be around seven years old at the time, he brightened all of our lives and my father's days during weeks of illness and he consoled us, when only 11 weeks later, my dad was gone.

You would have to also understand that Barkley cost us a fortune. No one could believe the number of "issues" he seemed to have, from very bad teeth, to a possible tumor, to arthritis, and later heart issues with many other concerns in between. The vet bills mounted and I kept telling Joe, "it's a privilege, this dog has come to us for a reason", and as long as I had a job, Barkley was going to get the best care. And that he did! We had the most amazing vet and staff who loved and cherished him like we did, and who worked with us to find ways to make life better. Barkley had the life of Riley as the old expression goes! There was nothing he wasn't allowed to do, and he was as good as gold!

As his hair turned gray and he aged with grace and dignity, it became clear that someday he would leave us. We were prepared. At least we thought we were. Never did I believe we would have to make the difficult decision that has just recently been set before us. How do you determine when the time is right? How do you find the courage? I found out just how you do it, when the dog who has meant the world to us, needs to rest and be spared any suffering. You follow your heart and you find the love.

Barkley nursed Allison through her own 11 weeks of cancer, he was a constant companion through high school, her visits home from college and her final days. He brought comfort to Jennifer through various experiences and in the two and a half years since her sister has gone. He greeted Joe at the door every day and night, extending unconditional love, through good times and bad, and loved the walks with Joe, especially, especially in his "younger" days. And he gave me purpose, a reason to keep going when I didn't know how I would make it through to the next minute, hour. He needed me, he comforted me, he went everywhere I did, he mourned with me, he napped with me, he understood my grief, my sadness, my tears, and my fears. He never left my side for these years. He needed my care, nurturing, doses of medicines, massages, walks, and comfort as he aged and grew ill. He provided more than I could have ever imagined. He was our light in a dark world. And now he is gone. He is not at the window when I return from errands. He is not running through the house to greet Joe. He is not lying by our feet when we watch the news or the Cardinal game. He is not letting us know when it is time to go to bed. But he IS at peace, he is resting, he did not suffer or sufficate. His work was done and he laid to eternal rest in our arms.

Robert Louis Stevenson said..."You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us." I like to think he has found his girl and that the flowers in the meadow are singing a happy tune.

This grief in losing a pet is not better or worse than all other, it's just different. It brings on new and fresh pain that was so deep I hoped I would never feel it again. It is yet another reminder of that grief that really never leaves us, that grief that we are learning to live with in every action, deed, thought, that loss of a child, and now, in losing him, we have lost another part of her. But as in all things in this life, there is the perfect time, and that is what it was for Barkley. When we dare to love, we find that at sometime we must face loss in that love. I suppose that is the risk in daring to love at all. But I wouldn't trade a minute of the experiences, feelings or memories of knowing our beloved and cherished boy, Barkley. With him, went another piece of my heart, but in knowing him, I am a richer person.