A Doggone Day

My mom’s voice cracked, then it went silent.  I looked again at my cell phone to make sure I’d called the right number.

“Mom? Is this you?”

The next voice I heard was that of my older brother, Mark, speaking for Mom because she couldn’t.

The day had come. They would have to give Zoe, Mom’s Maltese of many years, to someone who could care for her. Dad, now 91 years old, has fallen twice in the past month trying to care for Zoe, his last fall being serious enough to require hospitalization. And Mom, at 93, isn’t able to care for the mainly blind and frequently incontinent 98-year-old (dog years) pet that has other health issues as well.

When Mark and his wife Joy went through Zoe’s belongings with Mom, she wanted to talk with me, to tell me it had come to this, and ask me to pray for God’s help to walk her through it. By the time I noticed the missed call and was able to return it, she had become too emotional to speak.

This has been far from easy, for Zoe has been like a member of Mom’s family.

Mom is certainly not alone in having such a fond affection for a pet.  Joe Yonan, an editor for the Washington Post, cites a 1988 study in the Journal of Mental Health Counseling that found that among a group of dog owners, 38% ranked their pet to be closer to them than any family member.  He notes that other research comparing how people grieve over pet and family members has come to different conclusions, but at least for Mom, her pet has definitely been part of her family.

When they moved to a retirement facility, Mom and Dad said “good-bye” to their home of many years, precious belongings, familiar surroundings, and proximity to friends.  Then Mom gave up her car, along with driving.  And now it appears Dad may too have to find an alternate mode of transportation. Like many others who continue to grow older, they have become more and more confined to one place as the world often seems to become smaller and smaller. All this can produce a profound sense of loneliness.

Through all the change, Zoe has been Mom’s constant companion. And now she has to release Zoe, too.

Zoe dances around in circles whenever Mom returns after they’ve been separated, even if Mom’s been gone for only an hour or so. And Zoe has her perch beside Mom in her chair. Mom talks to Zoe, and Zoe seems to understand. They watch TV together, nap together, and sleep together.

One time I made the mistake of referring to Zoe as “the dog.” Mom nearly stomped her foot, quickly reminding me that Zoe is not “just a dog.”

In Mom’s world, Zoe is truly more than a pet.

Novelist Dean Koontz described what many pet lovers feel: “Once you’ve had a wonderful dog, a life without one, is a life diminished.”

And so I grieve for her grief.

Many of the common tips for helping seniors cope with the loss of a pet---find a new hobby, take a class, connect with friends, exercise with a group in tennis, golf, or swimming--- somehow don’t ring helpful with Mom, at 93.

When I was in fourth grade, a car ran over my dog.  It happened in the morning on a road that was frequented by high schoolers driving to school. Dad was angry with the imaginary teenager speeding down Hightower Street, “probably late for class,” but Mom sat down and put her arm around me while I cried. I don’t recall anything she said.

Just knowing she cared helped.

The best I can do for her now is listen as she shares her pain.

It’s not much.

But I hope it helps.