“It’s the end of the line for my Bama. And it hurts so bad. It doesn’t hurt any less knowing it’s the right thing, the necessary thing.
I will miss her with every ounce of my being. She’s been my companion and friend for 6 years and 9 months. Until the past year or so, I took her practically everywhere, from Shakespeare festivals in the park to a trip from Oklahoma to Colorado for an academic conference.”
The devastation and grief experienced when a loved pet dies is valid and very real, no matter what anyone tells you. I’ve come across many non-pet owners who simply don’t comprehend this at all. I heard, “come on, it’s only a cat” many times, along with my personal favourite, “just get a new one” – like she was a knackered old pair of trainers. Of course, these expressions were never malicious, just made by those who haven’t experienced the joy of having a pet, nor the hollowness that comes when you lose them.
“This afternoon I spent a few more quiet interludes petting Bama, talking quietly to her, assuring her, apologizing for the delay. In a few minutes I will return to my station at her side for a while before I begin my final evening preparations. Then I’ll return to her side before bedtime and we will comfort one another for a little while longer.
It will be our final evening together.
And my heart is wrenching into shattered pieces, once again.”
A friend of mine declared recently that she would never have a pet. When I asked why not, she replied that she couldn’t cope with her son’s inevitable, eventual heartbreak. This is madness! Not only is learning to cope with death an essential life-lesson for any young person, but the notion that you can somehow protect your heart from pain by sealing it off from love is ridiculous. Yes, the sadness can be overwhelmingly unbearable, but it is one moment in a lifetime of memories. The years of joy are worth the ultimate pain of loss.
“Farewell my precious, sweet Bama. Your spirit will always be with me and your footsteps in my path. I know you’re busy romping in the snow now, or paddling in the water, so I’ll leave you to play for a while, where it’s cool and pleasant. See you soon over the Rainbow Bridge.”
In memory of Bama, 1999-2011.
Extracts and photo courtesy of Sheree Martin http://benfranklinfollies.wordpress.com/
