To every thing there is a season...

"To every thing there is a season,

and a time to every purpose under the Heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die."



Euthanasia is a word derived from the Greek which literally means, "good death". Although the decision is demanded by humanitarian obligation, it is always traumatic for the person who must finally make that decision. It is the ultimate heartbreak we must endure for our dear companion animals.



Euthanasia should be used to put an end to terminal suffering and a negative quality of life. This choice is highly subjective and often difficult to make, but it is part of ultimate responsibility. We are morally obligated to protect and support the lives of our animal friends. Some people abuse this sacred trust by putting their own feelings above the needs of their pets - and they regret it later.

....part of our ultimate responsibility...we are morally obligated to protect and support...putting their own feelings above the needs....regret it later...

I came across a book which offered "practical suggestions to help one grieve the loss of a pet...". I began this post months ago, and occasionally came back to edit it, review it, and save the draft. Interesting how at different times the post seemed therapeutic and at others, forced.



1) Find sympathetic and supportive people, and let your feelings out. Cry. Don't hold back. If you supress feelings, that will only delay the healing and mourning process.

2) Dedicate something in your pet's name and memory.

3) It is never too late to say something to your deceased pet. Make an audio recording of yourself reading these memories, saying whatever emotional private things you feel. Listen to it. Add to it whenever it feels right.

4) Establish new routines.

5) Avoid keeping many conspicuous reminders of your grief. One by one, get rid of your pet's toys and other things that you may have wanted to keep as memories.

6) Learn to understand and respect your own mourning.

7) List your major thoughts and feelings.

8) Make a list of the smart and funny things your pet did that used to make you laugh or smile.

9) Don't live the life of a hermit or one who is atoning. Mourning pain is normal and inevitable, but extended misery is optional. Give yourself permission to heal. Feeling better is not disrespectful to the memory of your beloved pet.

10) Make a garden memorial spot.

Pretty much none of these things seem appropriate and pretty much all of them seem appropriate. Sometimes we just want to talk things out; want to reminisce but have spent so much time proving our courage and strength maybe no one acknowledges we may be hurting. Maybe 10 months ago everyone offered a shoulder and now, assume its unecessary.

On January 4th I was in a car accident. 8 days later, on January 12th, Misha passed. 20 days later, I had my heartbroken. Severely. The most difficult thing to deal with is that feeling of the rug being pulled out from underneath you. I can remember 4 years ago, on Thursday morning, October 21, when I got the call that Mary, a close friend, had been killed in a car accident late the night before. I remember looking at the phone, asking the caller to identify himself repeatedly, calling a co-worker over to validate the situation. I felt like I was dreaming. Literally. I could not believe the phone call. Then I drove to Mary's dad's house at 151st in Olathe, chain-smoking the entire way, sobbing...the whole drive was a blur. When I got there and he handed me some personal items that had been with her in the accident, that is when I knew it was not a dream. Her rosary...Looking back on my parents divorce feels like another experience where the rug was pulled out from underneath me. Looking back at last January 4th, it was a Friday evening, I had a hair appointment at 6:30 pm. Lauren and her mom were hanging out at the house, I had contemplated taking Misha with me in the car, but didn't. I left my house at 6:25. I drove north on Indiana, turned left on Brookside, and watched as the mini van drove from 50 yards away, to 20 yards away, and 5 yards away until it completely hit me head on. I remember spinning around several times; the sound of the axle shifting underneath my car, the sound of running board tearing off, the sound of trees as my car went down the ravine. I remember shaking so hard I could not dial 911. I remember all the people who came to the accident scene. I remember the ambulance, the male and female paramedic....being told if I hadn't been wearing my seatbelt I would not be alive.

I still cringe and pray when I see headlights coming at me. I hate driving in two-lane traffic. I am still terrified.

I remember the call that Misha was sick. It was Saturday morning, around 11:30, on January 12th. We rushed her to the emergency vet. I thought she had gotten into something. The vet seemed concerned. Her breathing was labored. This was obvious. The xray showed a chest cavity and abdominals completely overtaken by a mass. I fucking hate cancer. I shrieked through tearful sobs "can you buy me a few months" he responded "I can buy you a few hours". The humane thing to do would be to put her to sleep at that moment. I needed more time. That was selfish. I was back 4 hours later.

We talked about getting engaged. Previous to all this. I did love him. So much. The way he kissed me on the forehead. The way he knew my moods. The way he cooked. The way he looked at me. The way he took care of everything. Then, complete betrayal. A message from her; she had been with him as well. One phone call with trembling hands; "Fuck. You." And, nothing.

How important is closure? Does it make anything easier? Will I stop feeling guilty for keeping her alive those last few hours? Will I stop hurting and doubting everyone who allows me to realize love doesnt have to hurt? Not everyone will rip the rug out from underneath me? Do I honestly believe I deserve to be happy?

Isn't it true that no matter how much we try to persuade ourselves that our past really doesn't matter, it most certainly does? Our past, no matter how we want to deny that it shapes us and our actions, actually forms our reactions to situations, and actions toward people in our lives? For example, you ride your bike around a curb and it slips out from underneath you, you go crashing to the ground. Aren't you then, somehow conditioned that, everytime you go around that curb, you will get a little anxious, your blood pressure will raise, and you will say a couple "Hail Mary's"? Or, lets say you fall in love with someone who is nothing they represented themself as, is it really possible to let loose and let go, and realize not everyone will betray you? Is it really possible, the next time someone seems too good to be true, they are just that good? Or, say you take your soulmate to the emergency vet on a cold, January Saturday afternoon because she is vomitting, which you assume is something she got into...and the x-rays reveal a chest and stomach completely overtaken with cancer, is it really possible the next time you take a loved canine companion to the emergency vet on a Saturday, it may not be cancer? The last time you were approached by someone downtown on the street they harassed you however, that surely doesn't mean the next time the person simply wants to hand you the documents that fell from your briefcase?

It would be so unfortunate to let our past experiences mold and shape our actions and reactions to our future blessings, now wouldn't it? How exactly does one let themselves fall in love again? Trust again? Not doubt again? How does one bring down their wall, again, and again, and again?

...

I have always liked the time before dawn because there's no one around to remind me who I'm supposed to be. So it's easier to remember who I am.

If you hold onto the handle, she said, it's easier to maintain the illusion of control. But it's more fun if you just let the wind carry you.

She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful and life was so short.

I used to wait for a sign, she said, before I did anything. Then one night I had a dream and an angel in black tights came to me and said, you can start any time now. And then I said is this a sign? And the angel started laughing and I woke up. Now, I think the whole world is filled with signs but if there's no laughter, I know they're not for me.

Everything changed the day she figured out there was exactly enough time for the important things in her life.

We lay there and looked up at the night sky and she told me about stars called blue squares and red swirls and I told her I'd never heard of them..Of course not, she said, the really important stuff they never tell you. You have to imagine it on your own.

In my dream, the angel shrugged and said, if we fail this time, it will be a failure of imagination. And then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand.