It's Okay to Cry:
Nick
as remembered by Peter Poses. Ph.D.
(Peter Poses, Ph.D., is a licensed marriage and family therapist from Watkins, Colorado. He shares his insight into bereavement counseling and his personal pet loss story of his nine-month-old German Short-Haired Pointer, Nick.)
In our support group there are four therapists who facilitate the group. We each take three months of the year, and we rotate with the seasons. I don't introduce myself as a pet loss counselor to people. I introduce myself as a marriage and family therapist. I became involved in bereavement counseling because I'm interested in the human and animal bond, and I have been rewarded with my own personal relationships with dogs. I also started the support group because the support wasn't available for me when I was suffering through the grief of my dog. Nick.
I think everybody has their own idea about how much counseling is enough. The biggest struggle for the pet owner is to say goodbye.
I believe in telling the story to help us through the grief. Whenever somebody tells his story, he feels better. I believe that grief can not be grieved if there's no witness, no listener. People should be able to share their stories and put voice to their grief and their feelings. When the story is told, then we close the book, and it's over-that's the end.
The first dog that I had as an adult was Nick. He died in 1974 which was over twenty years ago. Nick was a family member. He was like a sibling. The cause of his death was unknown. He was running in a park in Boston and probably caught a rat or something that had been bitten or baited. That night he had grand mal convulsions, and a couple of hours later he died.
In our society men are brought up to be soldiers-we should hide our feelings. I was beside myself when Nick died, and I cried. I was also depressed. I created a ritual with songs and music. Friends came over, and I shared my stories about Nick. My friends and family were supportive.
Rituals are an important part of grieving. My notion of a ritual or a memorial is creating a context in which the feelings can be normalized, legitimized, heard, and witnessed. After Nick's death I took ten years before I opened up to Shadow, my other critter. The only thing I have of Nick is a photograph which is sufficient for me. I strongly believe that part of the grieving process is releasing the anger. I had a lot of anger after Nick died. I was angry that he left me.
The importance of going through grief is that it creates what I call "a resented gift." Everybody resents the pain. The gift teaches us to access aspects of our humanity. It is a time to grow, mature and become more responsible and compassionate. Nick's death taught me that I wasn't as grown-up as I had hoped or wished I had been.
I normally don't dream in color, but on the morning after Nick died, I dreamed of him running along the green fields and swimming in the blue lakes. I felt that my dream signified that I wasn't ready to let him go. I needed to keep him alive in my dream of vivid colors. Nick was so colorful in the dream. The dream brought me a couple of more hours with him.
Since losing Nick was difficult for me, I feel that the support group helps to make it easier for others. The majority of the people who come to the support group are referred by their vets. They are people like myself who have experienced the death of their critters. There are more women than men in the group. We make our way around the circle and open it up to whatever stories may arise. I want them to feel safe. They will not be judged, criticized or made fun of. There are times when I share my personal story about Nick.
These groups fall into what I would call the psychoeducational area as compared to the therapeutic area. We teach the stages of grief. A lot of time consists of teaching about the expression of feelings and about the process. At the same time, we create some therapeutic moments because it is a support group. I have boxes of tissues on extra chairs when I have my circle. The tissues give people permission to cry. If they are feeling sad and feeling tearful, it's okay because the circle is a safe place to share their tears. We support each other. The group creates its own resourcefulness as far as being there for one another. In essence, every group member becomes a co-therapist-not in a technical way but in a resourceful way.
The challenge is to create a story-telling setting. When anybody tells his story, he feels more at peace, even if it's a horrific and painful story. It is about telling the stories and having at least one other person listening.
I hear lots of stories from people who are very anxious because they feel they have grieved more over the death of their pet than they did over a human being in their life such as a parent, grandparent, sibling or an uncle. I tell them that it is probably a function of the fact that the human relationship was much more complicated. Our relationships with humans are ambivalent. They are always love-hate relationships. With pets our relationships are usually only loving and that makes the grieving harder.
When it comes to deciding when to get another pet, I tell people that until they are clear that they've told their story and feel finished, they arc not ready to say hello and start a new story with a new animal. I want them to make sure it's not going to be a replacement. Each bond should be unique and remarkable in itself. It should not be a throwback to some previous bond that now has been lost or as a reflection of the death.
Nick
as remembered by Peter Poses. Ph.D.
(Peter Poses, Ph.D., is a licensed marriage and family therapist from Watkins, Colorado. He shares his insight into bereavement counseling and his personal pet loss story of his nine-month-old German Short-Haired Pointer, Nick.)
In our support group there are four therapists who facilitate the group. We each take three months of the year, and we rotate with the seasons. I don't introduce myself as a pet loss counselor to people. I introduce myself as a marriage and family therapist. I became involved in bereavement counseling because I'm interested in the human and animal bond, and I have been rewarded with my own personal relationships with dogs. I also started the support group because the support wasn't available for me when I was suffering through the grief of my dog. Nick.
I think everybody has their own idea about how much counseling is enough. The biggest struggle for the pet owner is to say goodbye.
I believe in telling the story to help us through the grief. Whenever somebody tells his story, he feels better. I believe that grief can not be grieved if there's no witness, no listener. People should be able to share their stories and put voice to their grief and their feelings. When the story is told, then we close the book, and it's over-that's the end.
The first dog that I had as an adult was Nick. He died in 1974 which was over twenty years ago. Nick was a family member. He was like a sibling. The cause of his death was unknown. He was running in a park in Boston and probably caught a rat or something that had been bitten or baited. That night he had grand mal convulsions, and a couple of hours later he died.
In our society men are brought up to be soldiers-we should hide our feelings. I was beside myself when Nick died, and I cried. I was also depressed. I created a ritual with songs and music. Friends came over, and I shared my stories about Nick. My friends and family were supportive.
Rituals are an important part of grieving. My notion of a ritual or a memorial is creating a context in which the feelings can be normalized, legitimized, heard, and witnessed. After Nick's death I took ten years before I opened up to Shadow, my other critter. The only thing I have of Nick is a photograph which is sufficient for me. I strongly believe that part of the grieving process is releasing the anger. I had a lot of anger after Nick died. I was angry that he left me.
The importance of going through grief is that it creates what I call "a resented gift." Everybody resents the pain. The gift teaches us to access aspects of our humanity. It is a time to grow, mature and become more responsible and compassionate. Nick's death taught me that I wasn't as grown-up as I had hoped or wished I had been.
I normally don't dream in color, but on the morning after Nick died, I dreamed of him running along the green fields and swimming in the blue lakes. I felt that my dream signified that I wasn't ready to let him go. I needed to keep him alive in my dream of vivid colors. Nick was so colorful in the dream. The dream brought me a couple of more hours with him.
Since losing Nick was difficult for me, I feel that the support group helps to make it easier for others. The majority of the people who come to the support group are referred by their vets. They are people like myself who have experienced the death of their critters. There are more women than men in the group. We make our way around the circle and open it up to whatever stories may arise. I want them to feel safe. They will not be judged, criticized or made fun of. There are times when I share my personal story about Nick.
These groups fall into what I would call the psychoeducational area as compared to the therapeutic area. We teach the stages of grief. A lot of time consists of teaching about the expression of feelings and about the process. At the same time, we create some therapeutic moments because it is a support group. I have boxes of tissues on extra chairs when I have my circle. The tissues give people permission to cry. If they are feeling sad and feeling tearful, it's okay because the circle is a safe place to share their tears. We support each other. The group creates its own resourcefulness as far as being there for one another. In essence, every group member becomes a co-therapist-not in a technical way but in a resourceful way.
The challenge is to create a story-telling setting. When anybody tells his story, he feels more at peace, even if it's a horrific and painful story. It is about telling the stories and having at least one other person listening.
I hear lots of stories from people who are very anxious because they feel they have grieved more over the death of their pet than they did over a human being in their life such as a parent, grandparent, sibling or an uncle. I tell them that it is probably a function of the fact that the human relationship was much more complicated. Our relationships with humans are ambivalent. They are always love-hate relationships. With pets our relationships are usually only loving and that makes the grieving harder.
When it comes to deciding when to get another pet, I tell people that until they are clear that they've told their story and feel finished, they arc not ready to say hello and start a new story with a new animal. I want them to make sure it's not going to be a replacement. Each bond should be unique and remarkable in itself. It should not be a throwback to some previous bond that now has been lost or as a reflection of the death.