“Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”  Fred Rogers

The gut-wrenching realization that I would one day have to live in a world without Murdock occurred to me nearly the first day I laid eyes on him. As the years went on, and we inched closer to the life expectancy for his breed, those feelings intensified. My rational side told me that he was healthy and standing right in front of me, and to focus on the present. But the side of me that is always five steps ahead was increasingly impossible to silence.

When Murdock was about 13, I stumbled across a newspaper article about a psychologist who had written a book about pet loss grief. She also hosted a support group. The article highlighted two of the members of that group – one whose dog had departed, and the other, who was enduring anticipatory grief.  Anticipatory grief. That was me – that was what I was feeling. I immediately made contact with the psychologist, and joined the group.

I may be the worst support group attendee there has ever been. The meetings were virtual, and each of us had a chance to speak about our furry friends and the meaning of their loss. I sobbed through every story. As I waited for my turn, I felt such guilt – everyone had lost their pal but me, and here I was, with a growing pile of tissue and a face filled with tears. The group could not have been more welcoming or understanding. The guilt I felt was wholly self-imposed. I have attended several meetings over the last few years – still with a mountain of tissue at the end. But I find it comforting to be among people who understand the depth of this unique loss.

When it was approaching the end for Murdock, the anticipatory grief was more than I could handle. I had trouble sleeping, and all of my thoughts were spiraling ruminations. I knew it was time to find additional support in the form of a grief therapist. My sessions began 5 months before Murdock went to heaven, and continue even now, 2 years later. 

I am a proponent of therapy and have sought help several times in my life. Grief therapy sessions are much different. My therapist is not trying to fix me or address a problem. She listens. She makes no judgment that the love of my life is a furry black dog, or the depth of my sadness from his departure. Most important of all, she normalizes what I feel and does not push me to feel differently. She lets me find and express the words to describe this journey, which, for me, is critically important. She lets me talk about my great loss, without judgment as to how long it has been, which I sometimes feel from the rest of the world (again, self-imposed). She does not try to point the way, or take my hand to lead me – she just walks next to me. 

I am so grateful that I reached out for help when I needed it – and still do. It is so important. We don’t have to go through hard things alone. There are always helpers, if we look for them. 

(There are links to helpful resources on my website: http://youwerehome.com/resources/. If you have additional suggestions, please share.)