Courage
Courage is “Strength in the face of pain or grief”
Dictionary.com
Been thinking about courage and grief these days. I’ve been spending time reading the heartbreaking stories on the Losing Lulu Facebook group. Losing Lulu was the brainchild of Sue Alexander and Trish McMillan and is a safe place to share for those who have had to make the horrible choice of behavioral euthanasia for a beloved animal. It is first and foremost a place to provide non-judgmental support for the primary decision maker. It is also a place for those in secondary but important roles such as veterinarians, behaviorists, trainers, shelter workers, vet techs, family members, and so on. I am one of the moderators and it is thoughtfully moderated to be certain that the culture of caring, kindness, and support is always upheld in the group.
“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen”
Brene Brown
Most of the folks who post in Losing Lulu have never told their whole story to anyone before. They’ve kept it as a terrible secret, sometimes for good reason. There are many out in the larger community of animal owners who are quite ready to sharpen their metaphorical knives and carve into anyone who has made this choice. I’ve got the scars to prove it.
Speaking up and saying “these things happened and I made this decision” is terrifying. It is also courageous. I made the decision to be public about my situation and choice immediately. As a fairly public dog trainer I realized that honesty could possibly cost me a career that I love. Who would hire me after I had such an awful thing happen with my own dogs? But for myself I knew that I couldn’t move forward without total transparency, and the sooner I told my story the better. I truly expected more backlash than I got. What I did get was horrid and vicious and cruel, so I completely understand the desire to just cover it up and keep it quiet. What I also got, but didn’t expect, and will always be grateful for, was an outpouring of understanding and support.
Quiet secrets always fester. The inability to speak the truth is much more damaging in the long run. For some of our group members it’s been years and years, but they still really need to tell their stories. And their stories can be very hard to read and process. What the group members do for each other is pretty amazing. They listen, they don’t judge, they stare unblinkingly at the pain, and they offer empathy and understanding. These qualities are not present in much of social media these days, so that makes Losing Lulu a special place filled with very special people.
“Grief is just love with no place to go”
Jamie Anderson
The members of our group are grieving. It’s a grief that goes beyond the death of a beloved animal. We have been put into the position of having to make a life or death choice for someone we love dearly and circumstances led us to choose death. That is not a choice that we could possibly take lightly; it is a heavy weight that we now must carry forward with us. That decision changes you. There is a special kind of guilt along with the grief. Every single person who shares their story talks about the guilt and the regret. We knowingly made a decision that has now brought us terrible pain. Even if our logical minds know it was the only realistic choice, our emotional brain is screaming that there had to be another way and we missed it.
Other people often feed into this negative thought pattern by questioning whether or not we really did everything we could or should have. There is no way to try “everything”. What does that even mean? Everyone’s circumstances and resources are different and we do the best with what we have at the moment. People shouldn’t be shamed for not trying yet another path or spending yet more money or disrupting their already difficult daily lives even more. Frankly, I’m absolutely amazed at the lengths people have gone to in order to make things work and keep their animals alive. They have gone into debt, stressed their close relationships, changed their day to day routines, and more. Yet in the end they have had to realize that this is not something that can be controlled or managed. We are not all-powerful and we cannot make them comfortable enough or safe enough to live in the world.
The really painful part of all this is that we know that there was so much good about them, and yet in the end that didn’t outweigh the danger of keeping them alive. We know that they were loving and funny and quirky, and we love them for that. We had a deep loving bond with these dogs. When we remember those good parts it makes the ultimate decision even more unbearable. So we also have to remember the bad parts as well and what it was that made them dangerous. It’s exhausting emotional labor to try to find a place to keep our memories of them as they truly were.
I don’t have any answers. I only know that after nearly two years I have felt a slight shift and that maybe I’m beginning to forgive myself a tiny little bit. Maybe I’m beginning to actually believe that this choice was forced on me and that I did what was best for everyone involved in a situation where there were no good options. I won’t say something ridiculously trite like “it gets better” or “time heals”. I will say that we learn how to more easily carry our burden. And having others who have been through the same thing and understand is, I think, a big key to that shifting of weight.
If you want to read more about my personal story click here:
A couple of important notes on the Losing Lulu Facebook group:
If you want to join we would be happy to have you! First, please answer the three screening questions. If you don’t then you make more work for the already very busy moderators. Second, we never ever discuss living dogs and making decisions. Our focus is on grief support after the event. This is a hard and fast rule. Third, you don’t need to have made a behavioral euthanasia decision to be a member, but you do need to be caring and supportive of those who have. Take your judgement elsewhere! Fourth, once you join take some time to read through posts, especially those from the group founder Sue Alexander, and immerse yourself in the culture of the group before you post. And finally, what is said in the group stays in the group. People need to feel safe and secure so that they can be honest. It is never okay to share anything with non-group members.
Thank you for writing this! It was as if you were in my head and heart, writing exactly how I feel, the guilt, shame, stress, emotional toll, and regret. I am also a dog trainer and had the same thoughts, why would anyone hire me if I couldn’t even help my own girl? And I oscillate between regretting it and then remembering how scary and potentially dangerous she was, and how stressed everyone was. Anyway, I appreciate your words so much, thanks for this post.