I'd
like to adopt a new cat or dog someday, but feel disloyal. What should I do?
Q: I was wondering if you can give me some advice. I'm not ready yet to adopt
more cats, but will at some point. Part of my hesitation is that I am afraid of
being "disloyal" to my two dear departed cats. I know this feeling is normal,
but what can I do about it? Any advice or info you could give me would be much
appreciated!
A: The feeling of disloyalty is very common, very normal. I think one reason
for this feeling is that, in a way, your grief is the only "emotional"
attachment you have left with your cats. You can't express love for them in any
other way. Letting go of the grief (i.e., accepting that you're ready for
another cat) seems like letting go of the cats themselves. You may feel as if
you're letting them slip away by letting go, that you're going to stop
remembering them and worst of all, stop loving them. It isn't a great
connection, but it is a connection.
I think you will find, in time, that your need for a real, live companion to
love and cuddle will begin to outweigh the emotional need for the grief
connection. It takes time; it's not unusual for this to take several months. At
the same time, you might want to start "looking" -- with the realization that
you don't plan to do more than that. Or, consider volunteering at a humane
association and doing some "cuddle service" with cats that need attention and
socialization. (I'd recommend a "no kill" association if you have one in the
area.) It's a way to ease back into a relationship with a new cat without doing
so all at once.
I've always tended to get new cats before I felt fully "ready," usually
because the surviving cat has seemed so lonely and depressed. But it has always
worked out; even if I go through a few weeks with a wee bit of resentment and
"you're not the cat I want" feelings, love blooms and the new cat becomes every
bit as important and beloved as the previous cat was.
When you do feel ready to adopt, keep in mind that you may well feel that the
new cat is still not be the cat you "want" at first. But it will very soon
become that cat.
I keep thinking I should have known, I should have done more...
Q: I recently lost two dogs. One died of complications from cancer, and less
than a month later, the other died as well. We knew that the first was going to
die, and were able to make him as comfortable as possible. I was going to put
him down, but he saved me that agony. But I had no warning the other was going
to go. We took her on a family outing, and the next day she was stiff. She had
arthritis, so I didn't think this was unusual until I noticed a big lump on her
leg. By the time I got her to the vet, it was too late. I'm not sure what
happened. The vet thinks it could have been a snake or spider bite, or that it
could have been a cancerous tumor that burst and released histamines into her
body. Whatever it was, it had affected all her organs; her fever reached 106.2,
and they resuscitated her several times before I made the decision to let her go
the next time her heart stopped. Needless to say it was quite a shock to me to
lose another pet so quickly. I also feel more guilt, because I had no idea she
was going to die and didn't get the chance to do the things for her that I'd
done for the other dog. I miss them both terribly; I feel the void everywhere. I
find it hard to focus or get organized. The dogs were a constant in my life
through many hard times and changes, and it's hard for me to think about facing
challenges without them.
A: To have two losses one right after another would be horribly traumatic to
anyone; it's no surprise that you're finding it tough to cope. You had been
prepared to cope with one loss (as much as anyone CAN be prepared) -- and quite
probably you expected to have the comfort of your remaining dog to help you
through that anticipated loss. Suddenly, you have had to deal with twice the
pain.
It sounds as if you're feeling guilty because you never "saw" any signs of a
problem with the second dog. You've probably thinking that you should have
noticed, you should have had a warning, you should have been able to take steps
in advance to prevent this from happening. You're probably blaming yourself for
not being "observant" enough to protect her.
This is a very common reaction. It stems from the fact that we make ourselves
completely responsible for our pets. Consequently, when they die -- even when we
are in no way to "blame" -- we still feel that responsibility. More accurately,
we feel that we have somehow "failed" in our responsibility, because if we'd
done everything right, our pets would be alive. Since our goal is to keep our
pets happy and healthy, death feels like the worst possible "failure" of that
responsibility.
In reality, it is not a failure. One thing to remember is that animals
respond very differently to sickness and pain than humans. To begin with, if no
real pain is involved (but perhaps just a diminishment of function), an animal
will hardly "notice" that it is ill or impaired. It will find ways to compensate
that may be so subtle that you'd never notice. Animals don't think, "Hey, there
is something wrong with me." They simply adapt to their circumstances and
conditions -- which means, to the annoyance of us owners, that they don't come
and "tell" us when something is wrong.
Even when an animal is in pain, however, its first instinct is generally to
conceal the fact and to appear as "normal" as possible. This is a survival
trait, from the days when an animal's life depended on appearing healthy. To be
"sick" or injured was to become a target for predators, so even our domestic
dogs and cats still instinctively "cover up" problems rather than reveal them.
So it often isn't a matter of being more observant or perceptive. There may
have been nothing for you to see (and if, in fact, the dog's death was due to a
toxic bite rather than a cancer, there would not have been ANY advance warning).
In reality, there's probably nothing for you to feel guilty for.
However, as you've already discovered, feelings and reality don't necessarily
converge. You may know, intellectually, that you are not to blame and that you
did everything you could, but you still feel guilty. This is normal. What you
feel may not be "accurate" -- but that doesn't prevent you from feeling it. You
may also find that you can't argue those feelings away through logical
reasoning.
The only solution at this point is to accept that you have these feelings --
NOT that they are an indication of reality, but simply that they are there.
Don't let those feelings convince you that you ought to punish yourself, etc. --
but accept that they are a normal response to the loss of someone you loved and
accepted responsibility for. In time, those feelings will get better. How long?
Well, I still had crying spells for my cat up to a year after her loss. But the
day-to-day sense of anguish DOES get better.
One way to think of grief is to compare it to a physical injury. If you broke
your leg, you'd have one period of really extreme pain. But even after the leg
is set and is healing, you're still going to suffer. It's going to hurt. You
don't get up the next day and feel perfect. But you DO feel a little better each
day -- just a little better than the day before. Healing may seem to take
forever, but the key is to look at whether you feel just a TINY bit better today
than you did yesterday. When you realize that is the case, you'll realize that
you will feel even a tiny bit MORE healed tomorrow. And the next day, and so on.
There may be set-backs, but healing does come.
Article submitted by: © Moira Anderson Allen, M.Ed. (Biography
& Additional Information)