The sun shines down through a
canopy of thickly-leaved trees, dappling the ground around my house. I can see this
through the window behind my desk whenever I turn away from my work to look. I would much
rather be outside, placidly rocking in my porch swing, watching the day dwindle away and
contemplating my place in the universe.
The household is quiet, except for Oslo, my Norwegian Elkhound,
who is snoring loudly while napping in his doggy bed. Libbet, my pound "puppy"
rests in front of the kitchen door lazily pretending to stalk the chipmunks scampering in
the yard just out of her reach. Wylie, also an Elkhound, also sleeps.
On unproductive days like this one, I feel as though my
contribution to the needy world in which we live is negligible. But when I look at my
healthy, contented dogs I know that I am accomplishing something of value.
I believe that taking care of animals is one of the main purposes
of my life while I am here on this earth. For me it is a labor of love, for every dog
needs a good home. I only regret that I am unable to foster more pets than I do.
There is a self-indulgent side to my altruism however -- my dogs
keep me sane. I am absolutely certain that if it weren't for them, there are times that I
would howl madly at the moon. As it is, my dogs do all the howling for me.
Dogs are always entertaining too. They are playful and funny.
Watching them causes me to smile and laugh, and, makes me happy, at least once a day.
Living with a dog keeps me from becoming a pessimist. When there
is war in Bosnia and a mother murders her young children, I look to my pups to renew my
faith in life. They'll wag their tails and offer me a more positive perspective from which
to view the events of the world.
Our canine companions love us unconditionally and at all times.
They are intuitive, knowing sometimes before we ourselves do, when we are hurt, angry or
depressed, and offer us comfort even before we reach for them.
Dogs are a piece of heaven on earth; they are a gift from God.
When we lose a dog, we have truly lost our very best friend.
On April 2nd 1995, my newspaper column was about the
death of my dog Abel. Following publication of that article, I received numerous sympathy
cards and notes from our readers. Additionally I was sent several copies of an item
entitled "The Rainbow Bridge." This short writing describes how our pets, now
healed and made whole again, wait for us in a beautiful land, until we join them and cross
the rainbow bridge together into heaven.
Just ten short days after losing Abel, my old Afghan Hound and
long-time friend, Keisha, also died. I was grief-stricken. In desperation I clung to every
word written in "Rainbow Bridge," hoping that's its message of eternal reunion
with my pets is true.
The Rainbow Bridge
There is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth.
It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors. Just this side of the Rainbow
Bridge there is a land of meadows, hills and valleys with lush green grass.
When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is
always food and water and warm spring weather. The old and frail animals are young again.
Those who are maimed are made whole again. They play all day with each other.
There is only one thing missing. They are not with their special
person who loved them on Earth. So, each day they run and play until the day comes when
one stops playing and looks up! The nose twitches! The ears are up! The eyes are staring!
And this one suddenly runs from the group!
You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet,
you take him or her in your arms and embrace. Your face is kissed again and again and
again, and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet.
Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be
separated.
-- Anonymous |
Recognizing that missing one's pet is natural, veterinary
colleges across the country are offering telephone counseling and support to grieving
owners. At the bottom of this page are phone numbers, with hours of operation if
available, for severalof these groups (services are free unless otherwise noted)
- Pet Loss Support Line, 1-904-392-4069, ext. 4080 at the University of Florida,
Monday through Friday, 7pm to 9pm;
- Pet Loss Hot Line 1-517-336-2696 at Michigan State University, Tuesdays through
Thursdays only, 6:30pm to 9:30pm;
- Iowa State University (toll free) Pet Loss Hotline, 6pm to 9pm, daily during
school sessions, Monday, Wednesday and Friday during summer, (888) 478-7574;
- PetFriends Inc., 24 hours, leave a message at (800) 404-PETS and calls will be
returned collect within 24 hours;
- Virginia-Maryland Regional College of Veterinary Medicine, Tuesday and Thursday,
6pm to 9pm EST, (540) 231-8038;
- University of Pennsylvania School of Veterinary Medicine, (215) 898-4525;
- Chicago Veterinary Medical Association, (708) 603-3994, leave a message, calls
will be returned collect, 7pm to 9pm CST;
- Colorado State University School of Veterinary Medicine, (303) 221-4535;
- Companion Animal Association of Arizona, Pet Grief Support Service, 24 hour,
(602) 995-5885;
- Tufts University School of Veterinary Medicine, 6pm to 9pm, Tuesday and Thursday,
(508) 839-7966;
- University of California, Davis, School of Veterinary Medicine, 6:30pm to 9:30pm
PST, Monday through Friday, (916) 752-4200;
- Washington State University, College of Veterinary Medicine, Pet Loss
Partnership, (509) 335-4569;
- University of Minnesota School of Veterinary Medicine, (612) 624-4747.
- The Grief Recovery Hot-Line at the Grief Recovery Institute on the west coast,
1-800-445-4808, 12 noon to 8pm, EST.
Portions of this article originally appeared in Ms. Grant’s column in the Review
newspaper. The original article was nominated for the DWAA’s Maxwell Medallion Best
Newspaper Feature and the author was recipient of a Certificate of Excellence for this
work.
© 1995, present |
