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Goats, gripes, and grasping for greatness
On pets and grief 
10th-Dec-2016 04:23 pm
Introspection
On Thursday night, while waiting with Sancho, the vet said something useful and comforting. He said that I shouldn't feel bad about my grief over Sancho. The pain of parting was just a last validation that I had loved and cared for him as I should have.

I need to remember to breathe joy, not anticipate sorrow. I've got two more geriatric goats and a sixteen-year-old Shan-cat who still delight my days. And there are more animals growing old behind them. Night will come for each of us, but not just yet.
Comments 
11th-Dec-2016 02:33 pm (UTC)
I've had a number of pets die, to varying degrees of grief. It doesn't stop me from worrying, but I know that I will get past it eventually.

One of the ways I best processed my grief was getting a headstone for Foober. I worked long and hard to distill down a lifetime (grade school to moving out to this house) of companionship onto a rock that I know will outlast me. That thought exercise helped me celebrate her in all of her cookie-eating, fetch/playing, driver-supervising ways.

Summarizing a life well lived and well loved into basically one sentence takes a lot of time, sometimes, and it is spent remembering and reliving all the good and bad. So now I try to do that for all of the animals for which I had some kind of affection or connection. I'm a little behind in actually ordering headstones due to making the line art, but I know what the stones will say.

Edited to add:
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Edited at 2016-12-11 02:41 pm (UTC)
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