A blog about babies: the babies I lost, the babies I never had, the baby who made me a Mama.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Sad Goodbyes; or, People in Your Neighborhood

This morning, my downstairs neighbors' little dog was hit and killed by a car right outside our apartment building. She was a two-year-old Manchester Terrier they'd had for about a year. They'd rescued her from a shelter and worked with a trainer to help cure her of her excessive anxiety. They'd done an amazing job--she was so well-behaved, and getting better all the time. Somehow her leash broke or came undone and she ran into the road.

When Lawyer Guy returned from walking Bella this morning, he told me they had taken the dog to the animal ER . Later, when I arrived on campus to teach, I got a bbm from him telling me she had died. I started crying.

I don't know why this has affected me so much. I feel so very bad for these neighbors. I keep picturing myself in their position, thinking of my little Bella and how I would feel if all her toys and her food dishes lingered here as reminders that she was gone. It makes me sick inside. I imagine that moment when they were told she was gone, and it makes me cry again.

I saw their light on when I returned home this afternoon and knocked on their door to give them a hug and my condolences. They'd clearly been sobbing for hours. We all cried together and I said what I could to give them my sympathy, told them how much we would miss her.

I felt oddly tempted to tell them about the miscarriages, though of course I didn't. We live in a small building with only a few apartments and we have one of the two remaining dogs living here. I have to think that seeing us walking Bella and hearing us take her out every morning and evening (their apartment is closest to the front door) will sting so much and remind them of their lost little pup. Maybe I wanted to tell them so they'd know that I understand sadness and loss. But telling them would have been for my comfort, not theirs.

So I just hugged them and went back upstairs.

14 comments:

  1. Unfortunately, we know exactly how this feels... the loss of Tate is still fresh and I still tear up thinking about him. Give Bella an extra hug tonight. XOXO.

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  2. The loss of a pet is, for lack of better articulation at the moment, effin' hard. No two ways about it. It's a ridiculous amount of heartbreak to slowly watch your furry one's life ebb away, but it's just as helplessly sad for it to unfold in such an unpredictable and cruel way like for your neighbors' pup. As a very biased someone with a house full o' canine and feline fur, I don't know how these kinds of things *can't* rock you. I think it's lovely that you shared such kindness and thoughtfulness by stopping in to check on them...

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  3. I can't imagine what they are going through. If anything ever happened to Danica, I would be completely devastated. You were so sweet to go over and offer your condolences. I hope you snuggled with Bella extra tight last night.

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  4. I have that feeling often, wanting to share about my IF and loss but not being sure if it really is appropriate. Hugs to you and your friends during this sad time.

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  5. Oh, that is so sad. I'm so sorry for your friends.

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  6. Oh, I am so sorry for your neighbors. But NO, I don't think that Bella will be the sad reminder...

    I was just talking to one of my friends about this-- how I grieved with my dog died, and I grieved when my grandmother died, and I grieved when my embryos died... but the grief over the dog/grandma was more pure. That grief wasn't tinged with jealousy for people who still had dogs and grandmas AT ALL. If anything, it could be somewhat of a COMFORT to interact with living dogs and grandmas. That's partly why it is so shocking to experience the envy aspects of pregnancy loss-- it just isn't a part of any other kind of grief. Don't you think?

    I also know what you mean about the urge to tell. I told my friend with breast cancer about the miscarriages for similar reasons, and then felt foolish... oh well.

    Anyways, I am very sorry that grief has hit your building in multiple apartments this month, and I am looking forward to when your luck changes and children and puppies fill the atmosphere again...

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  7. Oh, Sloper, this put me on the verge of tears! Nearly about to bawl! I loved this post b/c it wasn't about TTC and yet it was. I'll hold my little Bella a little closer tonight, too. I don't know what I'd do without her--when we're down they seem to make us feel better, don't they?

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  8. Oh no. I'm so sorry for your neighbors.
    And I understand what you write about wanting to tell. I've been in similar situations... but you're probably right in that it would be more for your comfort. Sigh. Sorry this is such a hard week all round.

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  9. Beautiful post. And sad. I guess this is one of the silver linings of infertility and miscarriage - that we are more sensitive than we might have been to others' loss. I'm so sorry your neighbors lost their dog in such a tragedy. Just awful.

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  10. Oh, Sloper, I'm so sorry:( That's awful. And the parallels between this and loss - while not exact, I know - are so achingly clear.

    You know, I think people who are dealing with grief sense the deep wells of it in someone else. And I'm betting that your coming by, your letting them know how devastated you are for them, made a huge difference to them.

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  11. So sad, your poor neighbors. We had one camping trip, out in the middle of nowhere not at a campsite, where we thought B&F ran off into the woods during a hike. We couldn't find them for about an hour, and we were calling and calling and calling them, and they are very obedient dogs. We enlisted the neighbor campers to keep their eyes out. The engineer rehiked our hike at a sprint, and I talked to the neighbors and stayed closer to camp calling and looking. I about had a nervous breakdown imagining them starving to death, freezing to death, or being killed by a wolf or mountain lion. FINALLY I found them, they'd just worn themselves out and made a bed out of a giant pile of leaves about, oh, 100 yards from camp. But the dread and anxiety and sadness and worry while I pondered their fate during that hour almost completely incapacitated me and my ability to think or act.

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  12. Oh this is so sad. The loss of a pet is truly devastating. I completely understand the temptation to share your own loss, but I'm sure your empathy and heartfelt feeling came through loud and clear.

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  13. Oh so sad. I lost my baby to my body and my doggy to cancer in the same week. I like to think that my doggy went to be with my baby. okay I'm welling up now for you and your neighbors because I know you are all hurting. Sigh.

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  14. That is just heartbreaking. How tragic. I think the fact that you showed your care and concern will help them realize that you know how they feel. You are a good neighbor, and a good friend.

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