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Moving On

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Indigo's last breath left her body with a gentle sigh. Her giant head sagged heavily into my hands and I stared mutely into her eyes as the life and brightness slowly faded away. Indigo, just four years old, was suddenly gone from my life. Indigo, Indi, Indi-bins - all her pet names echoed in the silence that followed her final breath.

Last update: July 31, 2008 - 2:44 PM

Indigo's last breath left her body with a gentle sigh. Her giant head sagged heavily into my hands and I stared mutely into her eyes as the life and brightness slowly faded away. Indigo, just four years old, was suddenly gone from my life. Indigo, Indi, Indi-bins - all her pet names echoed in the silence that followed her final breath.

Gone

The cancer that struck her was especially ruthless. It caused her such pain and distress, that with a broken heart, I asked the veterinarian to euthanize her within days of the diagnosis. There had been no time to think about options, hope for a miracle or to just spend time giving her hugs and love. She was suddenly, painfully ... gone.

Grief

Indigo was the fifth Irish wolfhound to have come into my life over the last 20 years. She was also the best. She had a beautiful blue-grey coat and deep dark eyes. Indigo felt it her personal mission to make friends with every person on the planet. She was both elegant and a clown. In her very short life, she had been present for me through difficult times and significant losses. The emptiness created by her passing existed like a huge, dark cape, threatening to engulf me.

I am familiar with the grief of losing an animal - the painful emotions, depression, second-guessing my decision, hearing the clink of tags at night or seeing a glimpse of a tail whisk around the corner. All of these I had worked through before. But this time there was another challenge. In over twenty years, I had never been without a wolfhound. I had always had a puppy growing up alongside an aging adult. This time there was no "apprentice hound" to step into the void. Not to replace the one who had left, but rather to remind me to move forward and look for the next adventure.

Questions

How would I know when the time was right to add a new dog? How could I tell if the next dog would be the right one? I was struck by the fact that I had uttered platitudes to my friends and family after the death of their pets. But when personally faced with this challenge, how does one really go about "knowing?"

 

Healing

As the months after Indi's death wore on, I found that before "knowing," it takes time to heal the pain of loss. Then it takes time to heal the memory of the pain and upend the belief that honor requires us to hold onto that pain forever. Then it takes more time to learn that the animals of our past can still be loved and that something new does not diminish them.

I am not really sure when things shifted, but gradually, I found that thinking of Indi or finding a lost toy did not bring on the same bright pain that I experienced immediately after her death. This "new" pain was accompanied by longing for the love she brought into my life.

If I remained stuck in loss, wouldn't that imply that knowing Indi and being with her had made me dependent and unable to cope with the challenges of life? Certainly this was not what I had experienced living with her. It was more important that I remember Indi's love, joy and humor.

Searching

So I began searching pet adoption sites on the Internet. As I gazed at the pictures of available dogs, I found myself remembering the dogs of my past. I began to realize that each dog had its own special place in my life and that each added to the experience of the dog before it. Together, their legacies wove a rich tapestry of my life.

It was this new recognition that allowed me to look for another dog without remorse or comparison. I was not so much moving on, as this implies leaving something behind. I was, instead, recognizing a new place in life and the need to choose a companion for this new space.

Finding

Indi has been gone a year now. I have recently adopted a sweet and kind Scottish terrier girl. Like Indi, she is a Celtic dog. She has a wonderful beard and eyebrows and a fine harsh coat. She helps me remember the joy and love that other dogs have brought into my life, and that I honor their love by continuing to share my life with dogs.

Maureen MacNamara is a social worker who incorporates animals in helping children and adults overcome trauma and life challenges. She is recognized internationally as an expert on human/animal interactions and animal-assisted therapy.

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