A neighbor told me of his friend whose small dog got loose and darted into traffic.  He was hit by a car and his friend witnessed all of it.  Standing helplessly on the side of the road, she waited for the traffic to stop so she could run out and pick up his limp little body.  “She hasn’t been the same since”, he said.

When this happened, Tango was still alive. I bumped into her months later and asked how she was managing.  She gave credit to the book, “The Grief Recovery Handbook for Pet Loss” by Russell Friedman, Cole James, and John W. James.  She gave it to me and said, “for when the time comes.”

I read it recently, interested to see if the authors offered grieving pet owners anything different than how we grieve for our humans. The answer is mainly no.  This book was filled with ideas and stories related to what happens to you when grief arrives.  It suggests things like writing your pet a letter to honor them, keeping some of their ashes in a piece of memorial jewelry and being sensitive to outbursts of sorrow. The advice is universal, how to handle the loss of a loved one.  Whether they have two legs or four.  I think the only suggestion that seemed different from child loss was the suggestion to get another pet. I have told my family, Tango cannot be replaced, so don’t try.

After Tango passed, I saw her a few times around the neighborhood. She would have noticed that Tango was not with me each time. The last time I saw her, she smiled and said gently, “I see you lost your best friend.” I nodded and we spent a moment sharing how hard it is, how we will not get over it.  She asked if I read the book, she had given me. I said I had, and we compared notes.  She said, “we don’t forget because the pain helps us to remember. But I hope that time aids in softening the heartache.”

Tango passed away three months ago. I have yet to put away his food bowl. I sleep with his stuffed bear who now wears Tango’s collar. I can’t come into our complex without imagining him there at the front, sniffing the flowers or wagging his tail at someone crossing the street. I have yet to stop crying.  Never has a pet affected me like this before.  But then, there was never a pet quite like our man-dog, Tango. Even my husband says he can still feel Tango’s paw on his foot as he cooks his lunch.  A habit that was Tango’s way of begging.  He would place his paw on top of your foot so you would notice him.  Our dog has left a HUGE hole in our daily routine.  And an even bigger hole in my heart.

I practice the basics of grief to handle the loss of my sweet dog. I am trying to find ways to honor him. The first opportunity was answering a plea on twitter from a new animal shelter I support.  They said that they were looking for dog food for their ‘pets-giving’ dinner.  I thought it perfect that Tango would share dinner with his fellow canines. 

I promised the woman who gave me the book, I would pass it on to the next person I know who experiences the loss of their pet. The book is helpful for those who are fresh on the path of grief and filled with gentle reminders for those of us who are already living with grief.