One unexpected facet of grief that I didn’t know that I would experience was how our pets must’ve felt after my husband’s sudden death.
I am sure many might say that pets aren’t something one should be worrying about in grief, but I disagree. I know our dogs knew that something terrible had happened.
A few days after Bret’s death, I found myself frustrated with being tasked with 100% care of our dogs – or his dog, rather.
Bret had always had an affinity for big dogs. On the other hand, I am a small dog kind of girl.
Back in 2013, we welcomed a teeny-tiny blue chihuahua boy that we named Chip into our family. Even then I wasn’t sure I could take care of another being, as we were taking care of Bret’s grandmother who required quite a bit of day-to-day help. Add that to homeschooling our six-year-old daughter, and I felt pretty maxed out on what I could give.
He assured me that he would do most of the puppy-rearing but the very next day, he went on a 10-hour day trip, leaving me behind with a yapping new little dog.
I grabbed up the little dude and swaddled him tightly like a baby and took him back to bed with me. From that day forward, he was my boy. Yes, we still cuddle to this day.
In 2016, Bret decided that it was his turn to get a pet and he set his sights on some Cane Corso puppies a few hours south of us.
Now, for those who aren’t familiar with Cane Corsos, they are big dogs. They are also known as Italian Mastiffs, or “Blue Mastiffs.” Since we already had a “Blue Chihuahua“, he was sold. The fact that it also had the name “Mastiff” in it, made him doubly sold.
Bret once had another big dog that was part Old English Mastiff, and he had absolutely adored that dog.
Old English Mastiffs are REALLY big dogs but once they get older, they are pretty calm. Bret had assumed that a Cane Corso would be equally calm, and well, he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Our “little” girl has had more energy in her six years than I ever dreamed possible, and Bret hasn’t been around to see it.
We lived in the Eugene, OR area at the time, and it happens to rain a lot over there.
Our small home did not have any sort of mud room, so we had to manually wipe the dog’s paws whenever they came in from the soggy yard.
For a chihuahua, this is not a difficult task. (Except that he has a ton of attitude and likes to act like he’s really put out when you do something like this.)
But for big ol’ Pearl, it is no small feat – pun absolutely intended.
In my early grief, keeping up with the giant, muddy paws of a high-energy dog was proving to be too much to take.
Bret had promised that he was going to work with her, socialize her, turn her into an absolute obedience machine, but we hadn’t even had her a year and a half when he chose to end his life.
He had worked with her some at first, but the diligent training efforts began to fade away.
Pearl was sweet and happy but needed a lot of interaction and exercise, which she was not getting there toward the end.
I began to consider rehoming her with our kind neighbors who love dogs. The sweet wife had once trained dogs in the military. If I was going to give Pearl to a new family, they were about as perfect as they could be.
One day, as I sat there wondering what I ought to do, Pearl came over to me and had the saddest look on her face. It was as if she was letting me know that she was aware that things were different now, and her Master was not ever coming back.
I just couldn’t do it.
She had lost her “dad” and now “mom” was sad and frustrated all the time.
I decided that I didn’t want her to experience any more loss.
Maybe it was a selfish decision, but at that moment she became MY dog.
It wasn’t long before I decided to move back to the dry side of Oregon, so the muddy paw thing became less of an issue. I also have a laundry room where the dogs can go while they wait for their paws to dry during our wet season.
I have watched Pearl grow bigger and bigger, and I’ve nurtured her through some issues she has experienced. (Sometimes big dogs have more health issues than smaller-sized dogs.)
I get sad again though when I reflect on the fact that our pets had to deal with his death, too.
I find myself wondering what the grief of an animal is like.
Then it hits really hard when I think about the fact that I almost adopted her out! She has boundless energy and is a bit wiley, but she has brought so much joy to our world.
She and her much smaller counterpart, Chip, are always together. She thinks of herself as small like him, and he thinks of himself as large, like her. She will even drink out of his little bowl, and he prefers her big one.
I am thankful for them, every day of my life.
It will hit me sometimes though, at the fact that he didn’t just leave the people in his life, he left our dog kids too.
Sometimes the littlest things can create a small grief wave, and that thought has been a consistent one.
I am so glad that I chose to keep them together.
I know that pets are not for everyone, but mine have really helped our household through some awful times. I am glad that I’ve been able to help them as well.
About Layla Beth Munk
Layla Beth Munk is a blogger & author who was thrust into this widowhood journey abruptly and tragically on February 11, 2018. Her husband of 12 years had ended his pain once and for all. She soon made the decision that she would not let his final decision define the rest of her life or their daughter’s life, so with her sense of humor at the helm, she started writing about her newfound station in life. Grief waves still get to her, and probably always will, but with the help of her fellow widows as well as friends and family, she has been able to realize her dream of becoming a published author! Layla is so grateful to Hope For Widows Foundation for providing this level of support to her, and so many others! Layla has two amazing children, one who is grown and one who is almost grown. She lives in eastern Oregon and has a wellness & beauty background. Layla enjoys writing poetry, watching anime, and homeschooling her daughter.
Her blog can be found at laylabethmunk.medium.com and her debut novella, 24 Hours in Vegas, is available on Amazon.
My late husband and I adopted a rescue dog (chihuahua/corgi mix) in 2014. On the two day drive home Bob and “Buddy” fell in love with each other. Buddy wanted nothing to do with me. It was 18 months before I was grudgingly let into the Bob&Buddy bubble. Bob was diagnosed with terminal cancer in 2019 and I looked after him for 11 months at home, before he died in 2020. Other than to be walked and fed, Buddy never left his side. My husband’s last sentence was, “I’m only sad about two things; leaving you, and leaving Buddy”. After his death, Buddy would not leave his bed for a month, although he had always slept in our bed. Now, he is my constant little shadow, but I’m pretty sure I’d be ditched if Bob walked back in the door ❤️
Oh my goodness, that made my eyes sting a bit! Big love to you and Buddy.
My situation was the opposite. We both LOVE giant dogs, the bigger the better. My hubby’s first gift to me was a Newfie pup-our first baby together. Then we moved to rescuing English mastiffs and Cane Corsos. When my husband got sick he wanted something that wouldn’t crush him in his hospital bed, so in came Bones, a Jack Russell. That dog HATED me, used to bark at me and bite me at every chance, but was super protective of my slowly dying hubby. After he passed, I too, considered rehoming. But one day he jumped on the back of a chair and put his paw out and I realized he was as sad as I was but couldn’t see it earlier due to my overwhelming grief. Now he and my 170 lb house hippo are good friends- share bones and toys and go for walks together. I’m sure my hubby is so glad I kept this little piece of him to continue the love, it’s a connection to my wonderful husband that I hope to have for many years
That’s how I felt too – it’s a lingering connection. My parents have JRTs and they are quite spirited! Fun dogs though! Hugs!
You are right. No one talks about grief. Most won’t acknowledge that a pet can grieve. I watched my husband’s cat wither away and finally die after my husband died. The last few months of his life my husband would sit outside with our 13 year old barn cat in his lap. For almost all of the cat’s 13 years, if my husband was outside, the cat was nearby. If my husband sat down, Bolt was in his lap. After my husband died, I could tell that he was missing my husband. For three months Bolt rarely left the chair my husband had always sat in. Three months after my husband passed, I found Bolt, dead near my husband’s chair. I’ll alway believe that Bolt died of a broken heart. 13 is old for a barn cat and Bolt had started showing signs that he was nearing the end of his life, before my husband got sick, but I think Bolt held on as long as he did because he knew that my husband was dying and he stayed so that he could comfort my husband.
Aww! That is so sweet and so sad! I’ll bet your husband was waiting at the Rainbow Bridge for Bolt when he crossed. Sending love!
I am sorry you have had so much pain . Losing a husband is very hard. I have only been a widow for 3 months. Yes I agree pets feel loss as well. I have a cat that was more his cat. She was lost without him for quite awhile. But she has helped me in my grief and I have helped her. Thank you for sharing your story.
And thank you for sharing yours! Hugs!
Thank you Layla
You are so welcome! Thank you! 🙂