Something I've been watching an awful lot of during the time I've been off has been Crossing Over With John Edward, on Living TV. It's a very simple, very cheap studio based programme that is incredibly affecting. Hundreds of Americans sit huddled together in a television studio, clutching tissues and hoping that their dead relatives will contact them one last time. John Edward stands in the middle of the huddle, and painstakingly translates the messages that are coming through to him. The reactions of the audience cannot possibly be false, the messages sent through are sometimes too cryptic to have come out of a screening before the recording began. As a television cynic, and something of an authority on atheism, I can't come up with an explanation for this programme, or even the effect that it often has on me. Yesterday, sitting in the best of moods watching it, I ended up weeping for a good ten minutes as someone was told that their dog was with their mother.
I'm not sure what the rules are for how long you are allowed to grieve for a pet. Nobody seems to know what the appropriate response is - most people, who aren't pet owners themselves, seem totally unable to respond, and therefore ignore the entire situation. My family has responded with huge emotion to Sam's death, myself included. Even typing this I'm getting tears in my eyes. I don't know if that is a normal response - normal or not, it's perfectly natural, and not something that I am ashamed of. Unfortunately, the rest of the world doesn't seem to be able to come up with the right response. Even if people understand how we feel, they seem to get embarrassed at talking about it. Should we just hide the way we are all feeling?
I have no idea. I'm not sure what the grief response is designed for. A lot of strange American websites have suggested that it's there to remind us of all the things that we have still to live for - to move past the loss and on to the celebration of life itself. Some people are quite often unable to move on from a death, and instead chose to dwell at the point of loss and the comfort of the misery. But are you allowed that kind of luxury when what you have lost is "only" a pet?
Along with all those strange American websites that have soundtracks of that song from Titanic played on pan pipes, there are a surprising amount of books dedicated to the loss of pets. "Cold Noses At The Pearly Gates" and "Goodbye Friend" and "Pet Loss and Human Emotion". Shudderingly disturbing as it may seem, I think I've found something in common with some of those strange Americans after all. This is the first time I haven't felt like our family reaction is totally absurd.
I think a lot of people don't understand the importance of animals in our lives. They are looked on as companions, and if single women own enough of them, child substitutes. So, if your companion or child dies, of course you feel a huge loss, and a huge grief. I think that feeling is increased if you have had to make the choice to have them put down, like we had to, and thereafter have the nagging doubt that maybe you didn't make the right choice for them.
I know we did, and I know it was one of the most difficult things my mother has ever had to do. I know we will also soon be able to move past the horrible devastated feeling that we are all carrying around with us at the moment, and all I can hope is that the rest of the world gives us the time and space to move past it.
I'm not sure what the rules are for how long you are allowed to grieve for a pet. Nobody seems to know what the appropriate response is - most people, who aren't pet owners themselves, seem totally unable to respond, and therefore ignore the entire situation. My family has responded with huge emotion to Sam's death, myself included. Even typing this I'm getting tears in my eyes. I don't know if that is a normal response - normal or not, it's perfectly natural, and not something that I am ashamed of. Unfortunately, the rest of the world doesn't seem to be able to come up with the right response. Even if people understand how we feel, they seem to get embarrassed at talking about it. Should we just hide the way we are all feeling?
I have no idea. I'm not sure what the grief response is designed for. A lot of strange American websites have suggested that it's there to remind us of all the things that we have still to live for - to move past the loss and on to the celebration of life itself. Some people are quite often unable to move on from a death, and instead chose to dwell at the point of loss and the comfort of the misery. But are you allowed that kind of luxury when what you have lost is "only" a pet?
Along with all those strange American websites that have soundtracks of that song from Titanic played on pan pipes, there are a surprising amount of books dedicated to the loss of pets. "Cold Noses At The Pearly Gates" and "Goodbye Friend" and "Pet Loss and Human Emotion". Shudderingly disturbing as it may seem, I think I've found something in common with some of those strange Americans after all. This is the first time I haven't felt like our family reaction is totally absurd.
I think a lot of people don't understand the importance of animals in our lives. They are looked on as companions, and if single women own enough of them, child substitutes. So, if your companion or child dies, of course you feel a huge loss, and a huge grief. I think that feeling is increased if you have had to make the choice to have them put down, like we had to, and thereafter have the nagging doubt that maybe you didn't make the right choice for them.
I know we did, and I know it was one of the most difficult things my mother has ever had to do. I know we will also soon be able to move past the horrible devastated feeling that we are all carrying around with us at the moment, and all I can hope is that the rest of the world gives us the time and space to move past it.
