On February 12, our dog Nika had to be put down. Initially, I think our Golden Retriever, Nigel, believed she’d gone back to Megan’s like she sometimes did before Covid. When we picked up Megan for our recent trip to Georgia, Nigel leaped out of the car as soon as we pulled into her driveway. He hurried up to the door, tail whipping back and forth, and I think he expected to see Nika. But as soon as he entered the house, he paused and looked around,
No Nika.
He made his way from room to room, sniffing, undoubtedly finding her scent everywhere. His tail still wagged, but not as quickly. By the time he got to the front room and still hadn’t found her, he returned to the front door and plopped down in front of it. He seemed dejected. My sense is that he intuited she wasn’t with us anymore but remained hopeful until that careful sniffing expedition of Megan’s house.
On the drive to Georgia, we stopped at a place where we usually stop to walk the dogs. Nigel bounded out of the car and strained at his leash as I walked him over to the grassy area. Nose to the ground, he sniffed everywhere and at one point stopped and looked up at me with those huge brown eyes and seemed to be asking, Where is she?
Sometimes at the dog park he he’ll see a black and white dog that resembles Nika and will stop obsessing about his ball to check out the dog. It’s eerily similar to what Nika used to do after our noble red Golden Noah, died. Nika would spot a red Golden and lope over to it tailing wagging, her hope so obvious I nearly wept.
We got Nigel as a pup, just two years before Noah died. Noah was the elder who adopted Nika when Megan and I brought her home as a pup from Big Dog Rescue Ranch. When Nigel arrived, Noah nurtured him. On weekends when Megan arrived with Nika, the reunion of these three amigos was always joyful, the three of them racing around the dog park, the yard.
Megan’s painting of these three beautiful souls.
Yes, dogs grieve.
And the people who love them grieve as well.
Having been a dedicated crazy cat lady for a long time, I know cats grieve. They grieve for other cat friends, and perhaps the cruelest thing I see is how they grieve for their lost humans also. Many abandoned cats over the years find their way to my home, and before that to my mother’s home, and all seemed hurt and traumatized by people who just left them, as if they were objects instead of feeling beings. It always hurts me to see it, but I try to let the ones I have know how loved they are.
I’ve seen it in cats, too, Lauren.
I just love Megan’s painting of the 3 of them.
Thanks, Caren. Me too
Animals are nicer than people.
Yes, I think cats grieve too even though cats play it cool. That’s heir defense mechanism – being a “cool cat.”
Agreed! On all counts.