Yesterday was the second anniversary of Flash’s death.

Isn’t it odd, but the first anniversary kind of just slid past. This year I started thinking very strongly of him beginning last week. I couldn’t figure out why he was so much on my mind until I noticed the date.

Stanley has done a lot to help me cope with his loss. Figuring out what Stanley is going to do from day to day keeps me occupied. Yet I’ll always have a space in my heart where Flash used to be.

I love watching vet shows. I especially like those shows like Supervet where the doctor pulls out all the stops and saves the animal. I listen and watch stories of people who love their dogs unconditionally and feel a kinship to them.

Have we always loved dogs the way we do now? Or has our increasingly distant society encouraged – accidentally – a closer bond to our pets? I don’t know.

Flash was the first pet I had all by myself. He was strictly “my dog”. When my other dogs were alive John lived with me. Maybe that has something to do with the bond I felt with him. He became my de facto child, my dependent.

I’ve often tried to analyze the terrific grief I felt at his loss. It buffaloed me. I was stunned at my reaction to his death since it was unlike anything I’ve ever known. I’m beginning to think that there is something to the idea of the cumulative power of grief, that each successive loss is piled on top of the previous one.

Or maybe it all comes down to the fact that we share so much with our pets. We confide in them. We show them our true, authentic selves. They see us naked, sick, lazy, and watch when we eat that something we’re not supposed to eat. For all our flaws, they love us without reservation.

Can we do any less?

So, on this second anniversary I’m conscious of how blessed I truly am. Not only to have known and loved a great dog, but to realize that Flash’s legacy is to remember him with a smile and a deep reservoir of gratitude.

21 thoughts on “Yesterday”

  1. Karen,

    Flash was an amazing dog and I miss his antics, but I am very grateful to be able to share your experiences with him through your post. And
    I think that Flash would approve 💜

    The love that we feel for our pets is undeniable. I don’t think that I could love more deeply. I love my husband and daughter of course, but when it comes to a pet they trust us without reserve! They love us without reserve. They depend on us and the funny thing is…they can’t talk but we always know what Daisy wants.

    I think back to when we were little. You know I loved my animals then but not like now. I wouldn’t dream of putting Daisy on a leash run outside how we did our dogs so long ago. The love they have of us is a complete love, That’s why I don’t understand owners that keep them outside or on a chain. Then there are the animal abusers. Even when they kick the dog the dog is still looking for love from them.

    I pray to God I never witness someone abusing their pet. I would wind up in jail

    • He was and he knew it, especially after the groomer’s appointment. Stanley’s at the groomers right now. He does a little prance when he’s finished, too.

  2. When my two Boxer girls died within a few months of one another, I went into depression. I felt bereft. They were very important parts of my life. They were fun and sweet and always interested in what was happening in my life.

    (You are wrong though, they never saw me naked. I make my dogs wear blindfolds when I change clothes. They mean too much for me to risk them going blind from the shock.)

    I believe you may be correct. Our sorrow grows on itself. It is as though each separate blow goes into our depth and over time the blows add up to even more pain.

    Looking at that picture, you lived with a beautiful guy and I believe I can even see his loving nature within his eyes. They love us and losing that love is at times more than we should have to bear.

    • Karen,
      I lost my two boxers 1 year
      apart. I still feel their loss
      everyday. During the 12 and 13
      years I had Lexie and Jax, I lost
      my Mom, Dad, Husband and both Brothers.

      They are our grief partners, watch
      over us when we are sick. I agree with you, they see us at our best and
      worst and still love us unconditionally.

      I’m so happy you have Stanley.
      Nothing replaces the loss of a
      loving pet, but the love of
      another helps so much.

      Thank you, again for sharing what
      your son tells you every morning.
      We all need to share happiness,
      kindness wherever we go.

    • Great way to put that, Annette – our sorrow grows on itself.

      I can’t imagine the pain of losing both of them so close to each other. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.

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