My brother, his face dusty and tear-stained, leaned over me and took me in his arms. "I can't carry it for you," he said. "But I CAN carry YOU!" And he did, up the side of the volcano in Mordor, where we finally scattered my father's ashes into a sea of molten lava, restoring harmony and order to all of Middle-earth.
The memory of his funeral is hazy and I'm not entirely sure of the exact facts of the day, but I do remember that was the same week I got my first DVD player, and someone had given me a copy of Lord of the Rings, and the picture quality was so crisp and realistic that even now, eight years later, pieces of Tolkien are still woven into that memory.
That stress-induced memory blur is just one of the ways my mind helped me cope. And I know what you're thinking, but just because after he died I lost thirty pounds and developed a panic disorder, that doesn't mean I didn't cope.
I'm telling you, I cope like a motherfucker.
For example, Old Man Farley died last month, in my arms, on my birthday.
He hadn't been doing well for a couple of days, so late that night I laid down with him on his dog bed and put my arms around him, and whispered in his ear that he was my best friend and that I was lucky to have known him, that he was the most loyal dog there ever was.
I told him that if he had to die it was okay to let go, that I'd be alright, and not two minutes later he stopped breathing, and everyone was like "Oh how beautiful, he must have heard you give him permission to die, and he just let go! What a gift!" and I was all "WALKIES, FARLEY! WALKIES!"
And people were like, "He's dead, Becky. He just died in your arms. And look, there he is right there, still dead." And I was like "WALKIES! *crazy eyes* WAKE UP LAZYBONES, TIME FOR WALKIES! *jangles the leash*"
And then they were like "Can someone take her up to bed or something?"
Trying to walk your dead dog is an example of being in "Denial" which is the first stage of grief. Let's explore some of the other stages together, shall we?
Yes, let's. Come on you guys, it's grievin' time!
ANGER
During this phase, you may lash out and lay blame for the death on someone else. For instance, in my case, I became furious with the doctor who provided his radiation treatments, which eventually caused the radiation toxicity that took his life.
Radiation toxicity is something that just happens sometimes. Not usually as quickly as it happened with Farley, but it happens. That's life.
I could have just paid someone a ton of money to bash Farley's skull in with a bat and it would have been less painful for everyone, haha, but it is what it is. Right? Haha. HAHA!
I'm alright though.
That vet did his best, I'm sure.
In my younger years, I may have resorted to petty revenge tactics, but that's just not me anymore.
I've worked through it, and I realize now that the vet was not to blame.
There's no use feeling angry about it. Anger is not a productive emotion. It's best to make peace with the whole situation. That's the mature thing to do.
Think to yourself: What is the healthiest way to deal with your anger? For me, yoga and meditation have calmed me, helped me to see things rationally and clearly.
To accept it and move on gracefully and maturely.
I like to light a lavender-scented candle at night and take some time for me. Me time. It's been so healing, really. I have to tell you, I feel like this whole experience has really changed me, has forced me to grow up and accept the inevitabilities of life.
*unfolds self from yoga pose* Namaste. Let's move on to the next stage, shall we?
BARGAINING
You may try to bargain with fate or the powers that be, asking "Why did this have to happen?" or "Why did it have to be my dad, my grandma, etc.?"
In the case of a pet's death, when an animal that you're very attached to dies, it's difficult not to look at your other dogs, perhaps one of your less-than-well-behaved dogs, perhaps the dog that revenge shits on your floor when you go out to a movie, and wonder, "Why couldn't it have been you instead?"
This is not the time to try to bargain with death; you can't offer up one dog in an attempt to get the other one back. That's insane.
Now is the time to be extra attentive to your animals. Spend some quality time with them, some quiet time giving them affection.
Oh, Zooey. I'm sorry. You lost a friend too.
Try not to let your pain translate into anger toward your other animals.
Pretty girl. Pretty pup. Good pup.
They need your love now more than ever.
Good girl. Shhh. Just relax. Mama's gonna bring Farley back.
LONELINESS
Farley had been my constant companion for 13 years, so when he died, I felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. It's perfectly normal to look for something to fill the empty void left when a loved one passes.
Many people find it helpful to volunteer for a local charity or nonprofit when they're coping with loss, it really puts things in perspective.
For example, I found it therapeutic to visit the local pound, to spend some time with the homeless animals, going from cage to cage and insulting each dog individually, as a declaration of my undying loyalty to my dead dog.
Seriously? You look like Einstein's asshole. Everyone hates you. Go die.
Your hot carrion breath has just given me AIDS of the soul.
Oh, grow the fuck up. I don't even have time for your bullshit.
People always ask me, "How do you go to the pound and not come home with a dog?"
And the answer is that I have a heart of steel. I'm not about to be reeled in by some doe-eyed mongrel.
Some mutt with...
...with deep, soulful eyes.
Some dog...
Some dog wif...
(yawn)...
Suh dug wid eyss...
Glurgh.
You are getting very sleepy now, human.
Listen closely now. You will bring me home and feed me treats.
I will destroy your home and bark at your friends.
I will eat my own poop and kiss you on the mouth.
You will love me.
Now give the lady sixty dollars and put me into your car.
Yes, that's excellent. Now open your---
*wakes up in drivers seat*
Oh man, that was close. I almost didn't get out of there without adopting a--GAH!!
What the...? How the...??
Crap.
MOVING FORWARD: HOPE AND ACCEPTANCE
She's sweet and friendly, she plays and cuddles and she's fast as lightning. She eats mud and chases bugs and growls at the icemaker.
Farley would have loved this dog.
Sweet Foxy Shazam!
