Grieving the Loss of My Dog

I have written several articles on grief, and now deeply grieving the death of my precious dog Sweetie. I thought it apropos to write once again on this subject.

I have lost a very close friend and companion; a presence that has been literally by my side for twelve years.

Only now in her absence do I realize the impact of this telepathic presence on me. Her energy is everywhere.

I believe Sweetie was my teacher in ways that a human or a being has never been. It took this special and unique bond to transmit certain feelings and certain deeper understandings. I learned to listen subtly to her. I watched her pick up on cues well before I could sense them. I felt her presence as a guiding force.

There is nothing like the love of a dog. They are the essence of loyalty and unconditional love. They come to teach us this.

Sweetie, I am now convinced, was here for even more than that.

I have loved Sweetie from the minute she was born in my house. She chose me so to speak and we have traveled a twelve-year journey. She came to me just as I was leaving my teacher of twelve years. I was stepping out on my own after teaching in his group for five years.

I had my visit from the female Christ energy, Sophia, at this time, which set me on a new path. I was also uncovering a well-rooted pain within myself. Both Sweetie and the goddess Sophia have been faithfully guiding me in this twelve-year period.

I learned to strike out on my own in service to The Work, to transformation, to accepting a teaching role that I did not particularly want. I have relentlessly remained faithful to that request.

I walked away from everything at that time: my group, my husband, my retreat property and my pitiful self unable to hold a boundary to anything. For the first time, I truly stepped into the fearful unknown, alone, and in pain from rejection and the absence of belonging.

In many ways, Sweetie somehow carried this pain with me and helped me to be brave.

She stood by me in my greatest hour of need. I continued to teach and to learn. I even recovered my wonderful husband to whom I am still married.

What I realize is that a personal spiritual era has passed by for me. One in which I underwent many tests as part of my own heroine’s journey, and coming to full fruition only very recently with new roles. Initially, I had to reject some of the things I loved and revered the most, because they were still part of the pattern. I had to learn boundary over and over again until I understood on a profound level what it is to have the courage to say no.

I had to experience the deep fear of being alone.

The funny thing is that I have never really been alone but I had to be alone to see that.

Sweetie was always there, representing something of a higher order.

As well, it is ironic that we recently purchased a retreat property again, and this time on the right footing. She was there to usher in the new and blessed the land with us.

I have come full circle in my understanding of trust and surrender. I have a glimpse of the future which looks nothing like what I imagined it to be. In fact, I am again faced with letting go of old security systems and current forms of employment put in place as a means of giving me a sense of belonging.

These things were a means of finding acceptance in the form of “success” and “accomplishment.”

None of this matters anymore.

In the last few days as Sweetie was dying, I had the sense that she was saying, “It’s time for me to go. I have accomplished what my role was set out to do and you have got this now. I will always be with you in spirit and never forget what it is to have someone faithfully standby. Never forget what you have discovered within yourself.”

Only in her death have I realized the nature of our connection. I feel her absence everywhere in my life. I returned home from my trip to France and fell to the floor, howling. I sometimes think I hear her tail beating on the wall or her nails clicking on the wooden floor. I still open the door in the morning and remember I don’t need to let her out. I walk our walk as if she is beside me.

I know I will get used to her not being around but right now I welcome this grief because I know I have loved well. I am honoring the unique bond we had and I will never forget her love or her teaching.

Blessings on our four-legged friends for the gifts they bring to us and we to them.