I don’t often find myself at a loss for words, but when we lost one of our dogs – Willie – suddenly and unexpectedly this week, it left me speechless. Willie would have been 12 in a few months and for many years he had lived with Addison’s Disease, an autoimmune condition that had the potential to make him very sick, but which had been controlled with daily medication. By all outward appearances, he was strong and healthy, albeit starting to slow down a bit with age.
Willie was a German Shorthaired Pointer – a dog with boundless energy, a love of the outdoors, and great intelligence. He was adventurous and fearless, except in the face of thunderstorms which would put him in your lap. He was particular, territorial, and had a rebellious streak that often drove me crazy, like that time he ate an entire loaf of freshly-baked sourdough off the counter, or when he’d dig a pit in the middle of the flower bed so he’d have a nice cool spot to lie on warm summer days. Or when he’d let himself in and out of the house – leaving the door wide open – with frustrating frequency, or when he’d bark ad nauseam at squirrels that tormented him with their very existence. He was also fiercely loyal, incredibly affectionate, and ever the protector of our little family unit.
Losing Willie has been harder than I could have ever imagined. His death has left a gaping hole in our family. The house feels too quiet. I find myself missing his constant presence, and how he’d interrupt any and every embrace my husband Patrick and I would share by inserting himself into the cuddle (I used to joke that he was the real lady of the house, not me – the third party in our marriage, the apple of Patrick’s eye – but if he resented me for the ring on my finger he never showed it). I miss the comforting feel of his big, floppy, velvety ears, his companionship on every walk and four wheeler tour through the bush, and the way he’d always come to greet me whenever I’d pull into the laneway. Since his death I’ve been plagued with regrets about whether I might have missed signs that his time was coming to an end, whether I’d really given him the time or attention he deserved, especially in recent years as our family expanded, and whether he really knew just how much I loved him.
I’ve learned this week just how important we are to others when we suffer a collective loss. I’m trying to help my husband and kids through their grief, just as they’re doing for me and mine. And while it’s so painful to see the people that you love hurting, there is something deeply therapeutic in shared grief. We’ve spent lots of time this week sharing our memories of Willie and talking about all the feelings that have surfaced in the wake of his death. For my kids, this is their first experience with losing a loved one. For Patrick and I, the experience in many ways isn’t new – we’ve both lost loved ones before – but the pain of this loss still feels acute.
This week we’re also finding some comfort by showing lots of love to our other sweet pup, Rudy, a Chocolate Lab who was like Willie’s brother from another mother. Rudy was the beta to Willie’s alpha, the yin to his yang – quieter and more compliant, Rudy was always content to follow Willie’s lead. Willie would often clean Rudy’s ears, and Rudy would good-naturedly let him, a custom we found simultaneously gross yet oddly sweet. As puppies, they often shared a nap together on a bed, a floor mat, or in a patch of sunlight on the floor, and even as they got older, they were seldom apart. With Willie’s death, Rudy lost his best friend, protector, and constant companion.
Losing Willie this week has reminded me how we aren’t guaranteed anything in life, how precious those moments of connection and companionship are with the people and animals we love, and how fleeting our time together on earth can feel. But it’s also reminded me that despite all this, the marks our loved ones leave behind when they go are indelible. In spite of the overwhelming sadness of losing him, I get comfort from knowing that my life was made infinitely better for having Willie in it.
