In the last ten months since losing BooBoo I’ve struggled with knowing when, or if, it would ever be time to welcome a new dog into our home, beyond fostering. In the time since Boo died, we’ve fostered 11 dogs and I’ve introduced you to many of them here on the blog. Initially I was just so deep in my grief that I couldn’t even imagine a new permanent dog in our home, and fostering was a way to test the waters a bit, help our local shelter and give my husband, John, some much needed dog time.
But month after month, I was still grieving BooBoo and just wasn’t ready. There were a lot of complex, complicated emotions wrapped up with my grief and with the thought of opening my heart to a new dog. And with disappointing John time and time again, because he was falling for every foster we had, and was ready to have a new dog very soon after losing Boo. But for me, there was guilt, betrayal, sadness, happiness, disappointment and more grief. I honored my grief, and my complex feelings, and we continued to foster. I didn’t want to rush into anything, despite lots of people urging us to adopt this one or that one.
As part of my grief journey, I have been detailing a long list of criteria including temperament, behavior and physical needs, that I was ultimately looking for in a dog. I landed with 16 things that were ideal, several of which were dealbreakers, like having separation anxiety. Despite being a certified separation anxiety trainer (and maybe because of that!), having a dog with sep anx just wasn’t something that would be a workable situation for us for various reasons. And many of the dogs we fostered had varying degrees of separation anxiety. Foster #62, GG, probably would have been a keeper if she hadn’t had severe separation anxiety (she jumped out of a window at a previous home). She was the first foster I felt my heart start to open to thinking about maybe keeping. Foster #63, Lexi, who was our Christmas and New Year’s foster, was also another one I really loved a lot. And she also had separation anxiety. Both John and I cried returning both of these dogs to the shelter. Thankfully all of our previous fosters have now been adopted (one dog was pulled by a rescue but is safe).
I think I’ve been stuck on “if I’m still sad then I can’t be ready for a new dog.” But I also think I will be sad forever and I will miss her forever. But maybe our hearts can be broken and love at the same time? Or at least I hope so. Happiness and sadness can co-exist, right?
I’ve struggled, as many people do with significant losses about the time it’s been taking to “move on.” I’m reading The Grieving Brain by Mary-Frances O’Connor and it’s helped me understand my pysiological impacts grief has on people, and our brains specifically. It’s helped make sense of the changes in my body and how I’ve been feeling such deep pain for 10 months.
In it she talks about neuroimaging studies of people who were grieving the death of a longtime partner and that it shows our brains are wired to locate secure attachment relationships. The analogy she uses is like it’s like Google Maps for the brain. Your brain relies on prior information it knows about the area. Aftera loss, it can take months or years for your “neurobiological attachment system” to fully understand the reality that the loved one is no longer alive but your brain is trying to locate the lost soul mate, and this triggers waves of grief.
“After decades of research, I realized that the brain devotes lots of effort to mapping where our loved ones are while they are alive, so that we can find them when we need them.”
So, my brain is trying to solve the problem of finding Boo and that’s why I have these waves of grief.
It all makes so much more sense when I understand it that way.
So then what does that mean for a future dog? I don’t think I will ever not be sad about Boo in some way.
“Because of the dog’s joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reason why we should honor as well as love the dog of our own life, and the dog down the street, and all the dogs not yet born. What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs?” – Mary Oliver
For many months I have kept 4 postcards with different sayings propped up on my desk (stacked so I only see one at a time) and I sort through them every week or
so. I keep them stacked, next to my Boo felted mini. Many people use grief decks in their journey. This isn’t quite that, but a friend sent me this box of postcards and these four in particular really stuck with me.
I love the graphic design of them and the different fonts and colors. But just in case you can’t make it out, they read:
- Something Has To Start When Something Else Ends
- It Comes For Only A Moment And Then It Is Gone
- All Things Change
- It’s OK Not To Be OK
I don’t remember when I last sorted them but I looked over this week and saw Boo next to “All Things Change” and I was struck for a moment. Maybe now is the time for things to change? As I have talked about, one of the things I miss most about Boo, especially recently in this time of world and political change is the sense of security and stability and grounding that she gave me when everything else was in upheaval. I miss that so much. The constant bombardment of loss, death, sadness, turmoil and fear in the world is too much on most days and it is not something I can control, which exacerbates my grief.
Fostering has been so helpful but that’s also upheaval that inherently comes with fostering, that we’re choosing to do. It’s a constant influx of new dogs, learning about each of them, adjusting to each of them and changing our lives and schedules around them. It can be exciting, interesting, fun, exhausting and draining all at the same time. Sometimes as it feels like you’re just getting into a routine, learning their body language and favorite things, it’s time to say goodbye and start at square one with a new one. In most cases, it’s fine. But right now, I think I may need some stability.
I introduce you to Gertie aka Gertrude Wigglebottom aka Gertie Wagglebutt.
She was found as a stray, clearly had puppies, is heartworm positive, has a double ear infection, some sort of GI issues and looks like she might also have a leg injury. She has an ortho consult next week to sort that out. She’s a medical mess. But even with all of that, she wags her whole body (hence the Wigglebottom Wagglebutt surname nicknames) when you look at her, in spite of all her pain, neglect and being failed by others. She is one of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever met and checked all 16 boxes for the criteria I had set for what would be a good match for us. And, she is smitten with my husband, John. And I assure you, it’s mutual.
With all her medical issues, I already am thinking about “how long will we have her?” and already pushing away anticipatory grief thoughts, which I know is also normal. Grief makes you more sensitive to other losses, or expecting them more readily. I was worried about her GI issues and said to John, “but what if it’s cancer or something really serious and we lose her?” to which he sweetly replied “then I’m glad she died with us than being in a shelter.” And his level-headedness is one of the reasons I love him.
If you want to follow along, you can follow her on Instagram or Facebook.
“The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief. But the pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking love.” — Hilary Stanton Zunin
In the meantime I will try not to let those thoughts rob me of whatever joyful times are ahead of us. I know there will be months of medical stuff to start but I will try to enjoy this young, happy dog and help nurse her back to health. It will likely take the better part of a year, and it’s possible the heartworms will cause long term heart issues. And I know when the time comes, I will feel like our time together, however long it may be was not, because it never is.
4661 days with BooBoo was never enough. But I also know that 10,000 days wouldn’t have been enough either. I hope that the time we have with Gertie is long and happy and that all that time outweighs the sad last days or weeks or months.
Thanks for reading, for sharing my journey, for supporting me in my sadness and now, hopefully, celebrating this next chapter of my life with Gertie. I plan to have one more grief journey update on Boo’s one year anniversary in April and then I don’t know what is next. But, I wouldn’t be surprised if Gertie starts making appearances here.
Remember, as part of my doula services, I’ve got this grief resource page, (including my at-home euthanasia directory) which I update regularly. I also have my free Advance Care Directive worksheet available for download and this post about helping kids navigate grief. If you’ve missed my previous grief posts:
- first post about Boo passing
- 2 month update
- 4 month update
- 6 month update
- 8 month update
- 10 month update
- watch this memorial video of Life of Boo, with music composed by my husband, John.
- Video of BooBoo crossing the rainbow bridge (Lake Lure Rainbow Bridge, destroyed in Hurricane Helene floods but recently rebuilt! Maybe we will make a trip with Gertie to visit it once she is healthy!)
Beyond my training services, I offer my doula services here. And of course I’m here for any of your training needs or you can book my special consult if you’re considering behavioral euthanasia.
Happy Valentine’s Day, friends. Happy Gotcha Day, Gertie!
