Animals Unfolded

One afternoon many years ago, when I was having a conversation with one of my families after their pet died, I heard a response to something I offered in an effort to be 'helpful'. What I didn’t realize is the exchange helped me to see grief very differently, and it eventually pushed me further along on a unique path that led me where I am now. I have no interest in listening to other people talk about their experience losing their pet, about their grief… This resonated with me deeply. At first I thought it was just me because I tend to be exceedingly private about my personal life, and that includes anything regarding the deaths in my midst. Understanding that, in looking back I’m not even sure why I even suggested that a pet loss support group meeting might be helpful to this person. I know now that was widely accepted as just what was available, accessible to those grieving the loss of a pet. I’m better equipped, today. People in pet loss support groups… they’re focu...

Conversations are unquestionably expansive in my work with families as a Certified Pet Loss and Grief Companion, and each of those that I have cement the notion that companion animals are an important facet of people's lives. We build lives with our pets, as well as memories. Pets somehow become markers for significant events in our lives and it's no wonder: we spend more time with them on a daily basis than we do other family members, and for years on end. I was super-amazed by a deep-but-lighthearted conversation between comedians Michael Legge and Cariad Lloyd on the latter’s podcast, Griefcast . I stumbled on it by accident, by way of a totally unrelated podcast but I digress. Serendipity. If you are grieving your loss of a pet, recent or long-since, I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to relate on so many levels. Lloyd gets grief and instinctively knows how to get to the spaces-in-between questions that matter and Legge expands beautifully on his life and the end-of-li...

On the cusp of a weekend in early-June,  7AM —unexpectedly lying in a hospital bed, after being admitted for a bout of lymphangitis, worried, bleary eyed- and minded—my iPhone was the only thing keeping me company in the dimly-lit, unfamiliar space. Podcasts, working their audible magic after my waking  at 5AM  in an untethered state. Suddenly, the device lit up, bearing the familiar number on the caller ID that I was all-too-thrilled to see at that hour. Yes, finally, something bearing some semblance to my day-to-day, something that in times like that is always welcome: likely a last-minute request from a client to come by and give their dogs some outside time and fun that afternoon, though unfortunately I knew I wouldn't be able to help.  Wrong.  The voice, familiar, though strangely foreign in tone and cadence. I couldn't palpate what it was at first, but as is often the case, it was somehow starkly evident as the words tumbled out. Things were not th...

We have few things in our collective culture that serve as markers in life. You know, those things that say that we've reached points in our respective journeys that are significant. In the broadest sense, aside from cementing our relationship with another human like with a wedding, the birth or welcoming of a new child or serving our country during war -- and for some in our culture, those situations never occur -- there really is little else that we feel compelled to mark as a rite of passage, aside from some cases, religious ones.  Rituals and traditions are  a natural part of the events that we do honor, and in our culture, I can see that we need more of that. Reclaiming rites of yore and establishing new ones would be especially helpful in navigating the bumpier times, enable us more solidly connect to members of the proverbial clubs that we're (sometimes unintentionally) initiated into and to navigate that new territory. Rituals demand that we engage in the act of n...

That flush of emotion -- one that can encompass anything from sadness, a void, a breathlessness even confusingly accompanied by a catch of vibrant joy after recalling a fond memory -- is sometimes familiar, at other times, surprisingly less so, equally gripping and can hit any time. It’s that emotion that comes with the grief after the loss of a loved one. Loss that is recent, anticipated or is one that has had a chance to cure a bit with time or tending. The accompanying grief that inextricably links us as part of the human experience can just as easily isolate those that it’s touching if it doesn’t really register on the radar of loved ones, friends, those that we work alongside, the world-at-large. The interesting thing about loss and grief is that neither seek approval from anyone. The pair swoop in without being summoned, and we’ve no choice but to go along with them when they arrive. There’s really no point in which grief from loss -- especially loss sprouted from death, loss...