It was about 3 p.m. last Friday when my cat Spyryt approached our family dog Lady who was lying in her bed. Spyryt snuggled up beside her, much like he did as a kitten a decade earlier.
But last Friday was different. There was a special urgency for Spyryt. An hour later, Lady, increasingly ill and weak at the age of 18, was taken to the vet. It was her time. She passed away peacefully, loved by her humans, adored by the cat she raised.
After the dreaded duty with the vet, Lady's bed was immediately put outside. But Spryrt immediately positioned himself on her canine friend's former resting spot. There he stayed motionless for more than an hour.
Spyryt's mourning was a heart-wrenching moment. It was also a huge reminder that humans do not have the market cornered on grief.
But what is grieving when it comes to our pets, our furry friends who too often and unfairly exist in our lives as mere distractions for the so-called all-consuming priorities of the day? When they are suddenly gone how do we accurately measure that loss? Do we freely discuss this among friends and co-workers? Do we even allow ourselves to acknowledge it?
As a writer I am supposed to put all this in words but it can be such an abstract thing, something articulated only in whispers or disjointed scribblings.
However, I do take comfort by noting an Olds man's words from a story I wrote in last week's Albertan about Thing, the Burmese python and friend of businessman Dean Harper, who passed away in September.
“Some people might say, ‘He was just a snake', just like they would for a dog or a cat,” said Harper, owner of Wrappin About Reptiles who placed an obituary on the death of Thing in the local newspaper. “But I had the same kind of attachment for him as long as I had him.”
Thing was indeed special for Harper. They were friends.
Lady was special too. She was also my friend. For several days it was difficult to talk about her. But my daughter Darlana was able to write about how she felt. I read it to Lady while she was resting in her bed with Spyryt.
“You were always there for me. Always. No matter how insurmountable life became, you have been a constant source of love and support. Nothing and no one could ever take your place. I hope your life with us has been everything a dog could want,” wrote Darlana. “When I was a young child and you entered my life, I could never have imagined how you would enrich it. I could never have foreseen how you would stay through everything until I reached a place of true happiness once again. Maybe that is what you were waiting for all along. Every doubt I had, every problem I faced, you were there with unending understanding and love.”
And I do know the love Darlana speaks of is unconditional. Our animal friends offer this every day. I saw this repeatedly with Lady, even in her last hours.
I also saw this with Spyryt during her special moment with Lady. It was a fitting end that will last forever, a moment of greater understanding for a willing human.
