Understanding Love and Loss of a Pet

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Understanding Love and Loss of a Pet

Love in its purist and most beautiful form is the connection between two souls. We love without condition or cause, just by simply knowing that whatever souls are made from yours and theirs are the same. Its the deep connection that knows no age, no gender, because we don’t love a body, we love the soul that occupies it. When we love another being in this way it is a magical experience, even if it is sometimes just for a brief time in our lives.

I remember the day we went to the breeder to pick up our new bloodhound puppy, Annabelle. She was so small, with the face of an adult dog and the unpracticed gangly legs only puppies have. She sat on my lap the whole drive back home, starting a special bond between canine and human. I loved her almost instantly without knowing how, but knew I had no other way of loving her.

Throughout the years our bond only grew stronger. She was my biggest protector and I know would have given her life to keep me safe, and for me, if someone had ever tried to hurt her they would have experienced a special kind of rage from deep within. We went on adventures together every second we could. And on the days when the darkness within me threatened to consume me, she was the one thing I could count on for love and support without judgement or pride. She didn’t care what had made me sad, she didn’t want to talk about it, but still had the power to curve my lips into a smile when nothing else could

Nine years into her life I returned from fighting lightning fires on the Lassen National Forest. I got in to my temporary summer cabin late, looking forward to going to Sonora the next morning. But when I woke the normal excitement of getting to see her, to hear her cry and sing with joy at my arrival, was somehow missing from me. Maybe it was because I was exhausted, or perhaps it was because in the same way I’ve felt things were going to happen before they actually did, I somehow knew she wasn’t there.

I took the call I had always dreaded, receiving the news that she had passed peacefully while I was on a fire. My parents hadn’t told me because they knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else.

I had four hours to grieve on my own, process the devastating news, and apologize to her, whether she could hear me or not, for not having been home more during her life. When she was a puppy I had been in college, then I had been finding who I was in the concrete canyons of Los Angeles. I had always made sure to make special time for her whenever I could come home, and I think she understood that, even if she didn’t realize why I wasn’t always there.

When I arrived at the house I dreaded going in. I went straight for the pillows on the couch on the spot we always used to lay on and buried my face in them, clinging to her fading scent, her memories. I could tell by the energy that it wasn’t just her body that had left the house, her spirit, her soul was gone too. There was no point looking for her, I knew that she wasn’t there. Her soul was off on its new journey, wherever it was needed next, whomever’s life she needed to touch in her next life.

Over the next couple months I found it hard to grieve. No one around me all summer understood the sorrow I felt inside, the ache in my heart that seemed it might overtake me. To most of them she was just a dog, just a creature. But to me there had been the deeper connection, because I saw through her big brown eyes to her soul within. I was never alone to get the chance to mourn until one day on another fire assignment. I realized I was going to be alone for hours so I sat on the bank on the McCloud River and closed my eyes, picturing in my minds eye her running to me as she had before, and that thought alone, knowing it would never happen again, sent the tears flowing.

I knew that my mourning wasn’t complete, maybe it never would be. There may always be a hole in my heart that can’t be replaced by another dog. I knew I probably would never have the same connection with another animal twice. Sitting there on the bank of the river my tears began to stop and I looked up at the steep hillside across from me, watching the flames climb moss on the oak trees with a rush that sounded like a monster sucking in its breath. I remembered that even if she was gone her soul was still out there somewhere. I knew without a shred of doubt that somehow she would find her way back to me. What I don’t know is in what form that will be. It could be another pet, perhaps a future child of mine. I will know once I feel that instant deep bond that cannot be explained that she has found me once again. But until then I will just have to be patient and wait for the signs.

Understanding Love and Loss of a Pet
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