Anyone who ever told a grieving pet owner, "Get over it -- it's just a dog," never met Keeper.
Fuzzy Davis met Keeper when he was just a stray puppy hanging around the dock where Davis was a charter fishing boat captain. The shaggy-haired husky-golden retriever mix spent every night sleeping under the ramp that went down to the dock at Calibogue Sound in Hilton Head, S.C. One night during a storm, Davis ventured out to check up on his boat. The puppy followed him down to the dock, soaking wet. That's when Davis knew he was, well, a keeper.
I was watering my postage-stamp-sized Brooklyn garden one morning last spring when a white-bibbed cat peeked out from under my azalea bush. As I weeded, the cat napped in the sun, eventually sauntering over to press himself against my ankle. Clearly, this was no skittish street cat.
When I was finished, he marched up the steps alongside me, fully expecting to be let inside. That night, I noticed he'd slipped under the...
Keeper accompanied Davis on fishing trips for the next 13 years -- 3,000 trips by Davis' count. Friends joked that Keeper must have been a fisherman in his past life. He barked excitedly whenever Davis' customers reeled in a fish. If they stood for a picture with their catch, Keeper would sneak into the shot.
Dealing With Death
When Keeper got cancer, Davis traveled five hours to Atlanta, so he could get chemotherapy treatments. When he finally died a year later, an artist friend tied saltwater fishing flies using his hair; Davis gave them to his friends. Finally, Davis cremated Keeper and scattered his ashes in a favorite fishing spot.
"Now they call it Keeper's Cove," Davis tells WebMD. "I was just there last night to fish."
Maybe your favorite doggie or kitty didn't get written up in the local paper, or have a memorial attended by a fleet of fishing boats. Maybe you're even a little ashamed to admit to friends or family how sad you were to see Spot go.
Fortunately, pet grief has emerged from the shadows. There's now a bevy of books, support groups, hotlines, and online forums where you'll find others who will share your pain, or at least listen without being dismissive.
Why We Grieve So Deeply
When Dallas-based author Diane Pomerance lost her favorite dog seven years ago, she found herself grieving more deeply for the dog than she had for her father. "I was crying all the time," Pomerance tells WebMD. "I had a very short fuse. I couldn't concentrate or focus on work. Family and friends kept telling me, 'It's only a dog. You can get another one.'"