On Dealing With Pet Loss In Our Family
Navigating Grief, Remembering Love, and Finding a Path to Healing
Hello Everyone,
I wish that I had a more pleasant update about our family endeavors this month to share, but unfortunately it is what it is.
As my family and I navigate the waters to get our visas squared away, we have been fortunate enough to have support from our pets. They are really our children because they each have their own personalities and act human instead of as pets.
My wife had our dear Pinina long before she knew me. When we moved to Colombia to get hitched, I met Pinina for the first time, and she unconditionally accepted me as her father.
At first, she had her quirks like constantly trying to steal the food from our plates while we eat, or trying to sit on the pillows in our bed (which is one of the only rules I have for pets really because I don’t want hair and things where we sleep).
We came to a rapid understanding though, and she acted more human than any pet I have ever had in my life. She became my hija (daughter in Spanish), and I would commonly wake up to find her with one paw on my feet as I slept to guard the family.
For the past couple of months though, my wife and I have had Pinina in and out of vets offices faster than the turnstiles at Disney. Pinina began to act sluggish and would not eat well. The doctors ended up doing many tests and giving her fluids several times to which they found a problem with her heart, stomach, and a huge abyssys near her bladder.
The doctors sounded hopeful that if we put her on over 9 drugs, and that if she had 3 surgeries to correct the problems that she might be with us for up to another 8 months.
Knowing how much Pinina means to our family, I was not about to back down to the challenge to help our daughter through this trying time.
For the course of two months we went to the vet visits, and we watched Pinina get more and more sluggish. She hated the drugs and gave us a very hard time to injest them even though we knew it was for her own good.
A couple days ago, I sat here in my office and watched Pinina exit our bedroom, which is her favorite hangout during the day while I work. She slowly made her way across the room to her dog bed, and layed very low and still to the point where I could not see her from my chair.
I got up to go over to her to see what the deal was, and she looked up at me weakly with watery eyes and a wobbly head. As I looked into her eyes and she tried so hard to keep her head held high for me to show that she loved me, I could tell that she was fading.
One of our favorite father daughter rituals in mid-day is always to grab a piece of ham out of the fridge and I eat most of it while I give her a small corner as a treat. She would not even touch the corner of ham and moved her head away from it in a sigh.
I sat on the floor petting her and soothing her telling her that it is ok if she has to go be with God, and that I would take care of our family and continue the fight that she led us on as a prominent member of this family.
I sat there crying for about an hour and a half trying quietly to understand while not wanting to wake my wife who was napping due to a hard nights struggle watching Pinina the night before.
Finally, I got the strength to get up from the floor and enter our room where I told my wife what was happening, and that I thought it would be best if we get Pinina to the vet ASAP.
We took the 25 minute car ride to the vets office, and Pinina was acting very sluggish. The vet tried to draw blood for tests, as the other dogs that Pinina normally is very friendly with tried to say hello. Pinina sat there like a statue, and we could tell that she was in pain.
The vet told us that it would be best to leave Pinina at the office for the vet to supervise and take care of Pinina for 3–4 days. We agreed being the vet that we found is one of the best that we have dealt with. This vet even goes as far to cook meals on her personal stove in her house to watch animals. So we trust her.
Two nights ago my wife got the text at around 4am that our dear Pinina suffered a massive heart attack. She tried to reply for an update on Pinina, but the vet was unable to reply with more than she was trying to save Pinina.
My wife and I sat in our bed and both cried for a long while. Our daughter needed us, and we felt helpless.
We finally decided that there was not much that we could do at the moment, and that we would try to rest for a short time before getting up and heading to the vets office when they opened.
We spoke of if Pinina was in insufferable pain that it may be better to listen to the doctor to put her down after she has experienced twelve long and happy years on this planet. This killed us to think of further, but we would wait and see what the doctor said.
When the car pulled up to the vets office, we approached the office with anxiety in the air. The vets 5 year old son was just inside the door playing with a toy car, and he dropped the bombshell that Pinina had passed.
We asked permission to sit with our daughter for a while, and the vet was more than kind to let us. We spoke our peace and said everything that we wanted to say to our daughter before the coroner came and picked her up for the cremation that we had chosen to do to memorialize her.
In Colombian culture, it is believed that if you cry and you mourn the deceased greatly that they will not pass on to the afterlife until they feel you are ok. So my wife asked me not to cry.
I fought back the tears as best as I could. People think that I am this large heavily tattooed man, but really when it comes to my family I love unconditionally and my family is my world.
We are currently going on day 2 without Pinina here in the house. It feels empty and hollow. It is eerily quiet.
Our other dog Ranger is just 4 months old, and he searches the house frantically looking for Pinina. For two nights he has cuddled her dog bed and will not move. He knows.
The thing that I know is that it is going to take time to process all of this for our family. It is not going to be easy for any of us. Time, prayer, and remembering are the ways that I deal with loss, and I will lead my family the best I can.
In the meantime, here are some ways to cope with loss of a pet that we have found helpful in this short time.
If you have ever lost a pet also, our thoughts and prayers go out to you as well. If you pray, please pray for our family in this difficult time.
And if you want to support us financially, all of our work that we do on https://pininascloset.com where we provide tips for pet owners, and on my new series https://coffeexcameras.com will be going to help pay back Pinina’s vet bills and memorial costs.
Thank you for listening.
Over the years, the one thing I know is that I express how I feel in my art and my writing. It gets out the feelings in a format that I can process and understand to re-enter and deal with.
Tips:
- Memorialize Your Pet: Create a tangible remembrance of your beloved pet. This could be a photo album, a scrapbook, a memorial stone in the garden, or even an online tribute. Celebrating the life you shared can be a therapeutic way to process your grief.
- Seek Support: Connect with others who understand the profound impact of losing a pet. This could be friends who have gone through similar experiences, pet loss support groups, or therapists who specialize in grief counseling. Some people find solace in reading books about pet loss or attending memorial services at local animal shelters.
- Allow Yourself to Grieve: Understand that your feelings are valid, and it’s okay to grieve. Grief can manifest in various ways — from sadness and anger to guilt or even relief, especially if the pet was suffering. Accept your feelings without judgment, and give yourself permission to mourn.
- Maintain a Routine: While it’s essential to allow yourself time to grieve, maintaining a semblance of routine can be grounding. If you have other pets, they will rely on this routine for comfort. If you don’t have other pets, the routine can help provide structure during a tumultuous emotional time.
- Consider a Ritual: Holding a small ceremony or ritual can provide closure. It can be as simple as lighting a candle, reading a poem, or gathering family to share favorite memories of the pet. Rituals can offer a sense of finality and a dedicated moment to say goodbye.
If you want to support further and enjoy my other pieces here on Medium, you can sign up for my mailing list on https://www.charlienaebeck.co. I offer photography classes, mentorship, custom website builds, fresh Colombian coffee, and destination opportunities to come get photographed by me or learn photography from me here in Colombia.