What Do You Say to a Grieving Dog Owner?

Asia, minus her dog pal

I don't know what it is, but lately I've been talking to a lot of dog owners about loss.  Last weekend it was a man in Boston's North End.  He was walking Asia, his one dog instead of the usual two.

And yesterday I caddied for a nice fellow who put his friend of 13 years down just a few months ago, and quickly bought a new Lab to replace him.  He had such joy talking about his new puppy, but it was clear my golfer was still grieving the other one.

After the round, I shared with my loop part of what we wrote in Follow the Dog Home, because in many ways he was feeling similar to how my 10-year-old daughter and coauthor Samantha did a few years ago.  Samantha came home and discovered our 12-year-old German Shepherd, Tiffany, dead on the floor.  A few months after that, we got a new German Shepherd--Beverly.  I thought all was well.  What I didn't realize was Sammy's feelings of joy for the new dog were tempered by her concern that Tiffany would think we had abandoned her.   I never would have known this had she not expressed it in her writing.

Tiffany (dog) with Amanda (left) and Samantha

So as I was saying goodbye to my golfer, I wanted to leave him with something.  I told him what Lebanese Philosopher Kahlil Ghibran wrote about in The Prophet; something that we included in Follow the Dog Home.  Sorrow carves away at your being so the vessel can be refilled in whole when joy returns.  It's like a tall glass of cold lemonade on a hot summer day.  Were we not parched in body and spirit before, the replenishment wouldn't be as refreshing.

Beverly (dog) with (L to R) Samantha, Kevin and Amanda

Dogs and the Sick

It's a joy to find a book that fits your needs and reading desires.  It's another thing, a better thing, when that book finds you.  Yesterday we had a book signing at Unleashed by Petco in Wellesley.  Some people came specifically to see us and buy the book.  Others, I guess you could say, stumbled upon us.

There was a nice man who shared that there was an illness in his family.  He wondered whether now was an appropriate time for that sick person to have a dog in her life.  My dad and I were able to share the story of how our Golden Retriever, Susie, sat bedside vigil when my mom was dying of cancer.  That meant a lot to the man.  He bought a book and remarked about how he fortunate he felt to have met us while browsing for dog biscuits, or something of that kind.  He came to the store with one thing in mind, but left with what he really needed.

L to R, Michael, Christopher, Carole and Kevin Walsh with Susie, 1988.

Similar moments in my life introduced me to books that have had such an impact on me: When Bad Things Happen to Good People, The Prophet and Tuesdays with Morrie.

L to R, Bob Walsh, Beth Faye, Susan Spielman with Poodle Ginny,  Kevin and Samantha Walsh

Plenty of other folks came into the store and bought books with good cheer.  We cheerfully signed and took pictures with them.  But the picture I have in my head the day after was the look on that man's face; and his realization that he found what he was looking for in a place that he least expected.