We had our yearly Women’s Seder at our synagogue recently (far in advance of Passover this year, because of scheduling issues), and the music was lovely, and I got a chance to sing with friends, but it was bittersweet because so many people I hadn’t seen in a while asked about the dogs. Some knew that Cricket had died, but not Ellie; most didn’t know about either one. And I found myself having to explain, over and over, that they’re gone and I’m heartbroken. Like a mantra.
The fact is, I’ve had to go over their deaths again and again, just for myself, to remind me why there won’t be a dog at the door when I get home, or to explain to myself how I managed to get through a whole day without going outside.
Kevin, the mini Goldendoodle in our complex, left a squeaky tennis ball on our steps the other day. I don’t know if he left it for Cricket, still hoping she would come out to see him, or if he just left it for me; either way, it felt like a gift.
I’ve started to have more memories of Cricket from before she got sick; just glimpses, of her standing on my chest to wake me up, or bouncing around the yard with Kevin, or flying like the wind when she was younger, fitting as many sticks as possible into her mouth at one time. But I’m still haunted by Ellie’s last days. It’s very hard to remember happy Ellie, for now. I just keep seeing her struggling to breathe, looking to me for help but I didn’t not know what to do. I hope this stage will pass soon and I will be able to remember her happy years, her joy, and her peace.
I’m trying to be patient with the grieving process, letting it unwind at its own pace, even though I wish it would hurry up. I’m still not ready to spread the dogs’ ashes and say a final goodbye. I think it took a year before I was ready to say goodbye to Butterfly, and back then we still had Cricket with us for comfort. Losing both dogs at the same time has been brutal.
One of the families at my synagogue has an emotional support dog who comes into the sanctuary for services. He’s basically a smaller version of Kevin: a poodle mix with curly reddish gold hair. He’s very well behaved and knows how to sit on a chair by himself; looking as if he’s listening attentively. A few weeks ago he came to services wearing his new blue satin Kippah, with a Jewish star on it, and the cuteness almost killed me.
I do my best to absorb my doggy vitamins from witnessing the joy of the dogs in my neighborhood whenever possible, and I watch a lot of dog videos on Facebook too, to take the edge off of the longing for another dog, because I’m not ready to start over again, yet.
There’s something about the Passover story, the escape from slavery to freedom, that seems to fit this stage of grief. We tend to see the Exodus from Egypt as an ecstatic, completely positive moment; but how can it be? There’s so much fear and grief in leaving a familiar place, even if it’s full of pain, and there’s so much anxiety in going somewhere new and unfamiliar. I like that the Seder encourages us to sit with all of those feelings, and I love that we go through this process every year as a way to practice these difficult skills so they will be there for us when we need them. It makes me think of how tennis players practice their forehands and backhands, or figure skaters run through their programs endlessly, or football teams practice different plays so that it can all be automatic under stressful conditions, when it’s impossible to really think it all through.
I like that the Passover Seder creates space for talking through the story of the Exodus, and asking questions and arguing about how the lessons of the past can apply today, but is also filled with physical experiences, like eating the maror, the bitter herb, with the Charoset, the sweet apple or date sauce, to remember that we can survive the bitterness, and this is how. I remember learning about a group of Sephardi Jews who would carry a pillow case filled with heavy books around the Seder table, to feel the burdens of slavery and then to experience the relief of letting the burdens go.
I’m trying to use all of this practice now, to remind myself that I can handle this transition better if I take the grief in small bites, and with the help of some sweetness to balance out the pain. I’m trying, but each day the grief turns again to a slightly different edge, and it feels like I have to learn all of the same lessons all over again. Maybe the point of all of the practice isn’t that it will make these difficult transitions easy or automatic, but that it will give me a memory of having made it through to the other side, so I can have faith that I will make it across the sea this time too.
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Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
Sorry for your losses. Losing two so closely is devastating. 💔
Thank you!
I feel for you, Rachel. This week was the 19 year anniversary of my dog’s death. It brought back many memories.
Thank you!
Grief is a shape-shifter. Take all the time you need and then some to gently guide yourself through the acute stages. Expressions such as today’s post on your blog are healthy outlets that enable you to share your feelings. The Passover Seder analogy is good. Your readers do care.
Thank you!
Lovely meditation on grief and the Sedar and how that all intersects. Thank you for that.
Thank you!
It’s so difficult to lose our beloved pets, they are a huge part of our family.
It took me a long time to stop grieving for my little dog ( I couldn’t bring myself to toss out his little toys or leash) but now a year later I can look back and smile at all the adorable funny things he did. I’m so glad you have your other fur baby to love
💕
Thank you!
My Lily died a month before my Dad and my best friend’s husband. Then a beloved uncle passed a few months later. When Dad died, I became responsible for my Mom, who has Alzheimer’s. The grief was overwhelming and difficult to process, and unless a person is a dog person, they didn’t understand how the death of Lily affected me just as much as all the other things. Talking to a grief counselor helped, but it still took me 18 months before I could even consider adopting another dog. It’s almost three years now and I still miss Lily, though less tearfully than before. Cooper is funny and a little naughty. A completely different personality. He makes me laugh and he has reinvigorated our other dog, Trudy.
I read an article in the Times about drugs that can extend the lifespans of dogs. The author reflected on the need/desire for such a thing, ” When we adopt a dog, we also adopt eventual heartbreak.” It will take some time for you to be able to open yourself up to that sort of pain again, even if, in doing so, you will also receive many years of joy and love.
Sending hugs and the hope that time provides you with the healing you need to begin again.
Thank you!!!!
I’m so sorry for your loss. Dogs are one of God’s greatest gifts.
Thank you!
I’m so sorry Rachel. I do totally understand what you are going through.
Thank you! I know you do.
I still have my dogs’ and my cats’ ashes in the little wooden box they came in in my closet. My family has orders to mix my ashes with theirs and spread them together. It’s hard, Rachel. ❤
It really is so hard. Thank you!
my two Italian greyhounds passed away within months of each other. it was devastating. it’s over 10 years now and I still have one of their ashes, Sitting in a cedar box and I have a rock on top of it. I know I need to spread the ashes and I will but 10 years is a long time so perhaps I’ll never do it…. I really enjoyed your post ❤️
Thank you!
Beautifully said! Grief is hard! I love the way you related it to the Passover!
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Thank you!
When I think of the inevitability of some day having to part with my Sophie and Emily, all I can do is hug them more closely. I am reminded of the lines attributed to C.S. Lewis in Shadowlands: “The pain then is part of the happiness now; The pain now is part of the happiness then.”
Absolutely.
Sorry to hear.
Thank you!
Sending gentle thoughts of comfort. Losing a beloved pet is never easy, it’s been eight months since Norman passed and I still cry. But my heart feels a bit less heartbroken I recall him a special moment we shared together. It takes time for the heart to heal, it sounds like you’re doing what you can handle at the moment. Hang in there and keep enjoying Kevin and his gestures. He’s probably picked up on your energy. He sounds like a sweet soul. Hopefully he can lighten your heartache or at least make it somewhat manageable.
Thank you!
grief is just hard. I remember losing Lulu, 2 years ago suddenly, and not being able to breathe. Or stop crying. Then Lily 6 months later. I still get blindsided sometimes, and I wonder if Gracie came into my life too soon, and then I see how much she depends on me and loves to play so I am happy she is here. Grief is a strange spirit.
Strange and unique to each loss. Thank you!
Bless you Rachel in your struggles. I wish i could say more. But loss is a very hard hurdle to overcome.
Thank you!
❤
Life isn’t complete without someone to take care of. Just visit the shelters or search online and take the plunge. Once you meet your new companion, your heart will truly begin to heal. ❤️
Thank you!
Grief comes in ebbs and flows, the longer the time passes longer the ebbs get, tho it never leaves totally because you will always love and miss them. I lost my mom in 2000 and my youngest son in 2010 and there are still times that are hard, but I can find more memories now that bring a smile to my face.
Wow. I’m so sorry!
Don’t be sorry, it’s just a part of life I’m navagating, not a great part, but a part never the less. The loss is not really a choice for us but how we deal with it is, because after we have gone through the hard part of grief, we learn compassion for others going through these hard parts and patience in navagating the hard parts and how to lean on Our Father in Heaven and eventually we will all be back together again. Take a deep breath, honestly your grief will feel better, not right away, but time does heal. I’ll pray for peace for you.
Grief is never easy and it’s never the same twice. When I got my last pup, he came into a family of 5 and when he died, he was the only one who was still ‘living at home.’ That was brutal but the saving grace was I moved shortly thereafter so I didn’t live where there were reminders everywhere. I didn’t expect to see him, his bed, his toys in the house. I’m coming up on my mom’s yarzheit this week and I’m just about the age she was when we lost her. My sister’s now older. That’s hard to wrap my mind around. Be gentle with yourself.
These losses are so hard to integrate.
It is always a pain to lose pets we love.🥰
It is.
Grief is a roller coaster. Hope you can hang on for the ride. It levels out eventually. Hugs.
Thank you!
Thank you for writing so honestly and beautifully about this.
Thank you!
Thank you for sharing your sadness. It is painful to come home to an empty house or even to walk downstairs and automatically look for your dog. I hope you are able to remember happy Ellie soon; you brought her a lot of happiness, I know. The thing I keep realizing about grief (for my dogs and for my husband) is, it is always going to hurt, I am always going to miss them. Oh dear, that wasn’t a very comforting thought, was it? I guess I’ll quit while I’m behind. Prayers and hugs for you.
Thank you!
I think it will take a long time to get over the worst, but that is just the cycle of life. Try to think about how lucky you were to have so much happiness with them. I know it is hard to lose our family members, but weren’t we luck to have had them?
So lucky!
I can really relate to this. Since losing Ollie in February, I have done my best to continue walking every day in much the same area. But not a day goes by when I don’t see another dog-walker who asks me why Ollie is not with me. On one day alone, I had to explain his death five times to different people. It is so harrowing to keep going over it, I have started to walk in different areas or actively avoid other people.
Best wishes, Pete.
Best wishes to you too!
I like the way you’ve woven your personal grief into the Passover rituals, Rachel. The bitter and the sweet surely resonate with all of us who have lost a beloved companion animal. There is, as you know, no ideal way to move through grief; it’s so very personal. But I have the sense that you’re doing it in a way that is healthy for you. I’m glad to see that.
Do you know about the Puppy Channel–puppies all day long? Though I’ve heard about it, I haven’t yet watched, as I fear my dog-deprived self would become addicted in no time.
Oh my goodness!
We lost both our dogs a week apart, and I relate. We adopted a young female and bought a male puppy a year later, and the house is lively again, but it doesn’t diminish our feelings for the two we lost.
They each take up their own space in our worlds.
If they have not done so already Ellie and Cricket will visit you in your dreams. They will appear healthy and happy and let you know that they are at peace. I found after my Kali passed 2 years ago that the concept and images of the Rainbow Bridge was very helpful. When I picked up Kali’s ashes there was a card from the crematorium that was titled, Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. It describes a place where our beloved pets go after death and run free and happy, play together etc. towards the end it says, “the day comes when one suddenly stops (playing) and looks in the distance. Her eager body quivers. Suddenly she begins to run from the group flying over the green grass, her legs carrying her faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet you cling together for a joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses run upon your face; your hands again caress their beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart. Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together…”. This helps me, although I cry each time I read it, and I hope it helps you too!
The rainbow bridge is a beautiful vision!
je suis vraiment désolée et je comprends sur la qu’elle ae tu vie qe Dieu te protège
Merci beaucoup!
De rien ma cherie cmt tu vas
Ca va, et vous?
I think the loss of a beloved pet is sometimes harder to process than that of a friend or relative.
We still miss Maggie and feel the guilt of having to make The Decision. We have hundreds of photographs, bittersweet memories of our girl, but the pain is still there. Maya is wonderful and beautiful and has made her own place in our hearts which is as it should be, but there will never be another like Maggie. I so feel your loss Rachel and it is harder for you as you lost Cricket and Ellie so close together.
Thank you!
🙂 You’re welcome
I’m so sorry about your puppies! It will get better, but it does take some time. Give yourself the grace to Preserve.
Thank you!
Grieving, as you say, is a process. Healing takes time and is different for everyone. But you may find, down the road, that the grief you’ve experienced helps you relate to others who are grieving. <3 ❤ ❤
Definitely!
Grief is so hard. I remember how I felt when Pearl died and there was no dog in the house, and now I have another dog I worry all the time about something happening to her. Your meditation on grief is beautiful, and so are the pictures of your lovely dogs. xx
Thank you!!
There is no time frame for grief to leave us. I still say I’m never really “over” the losses of our pet companions. Hang in there and enjoy the memories as they come back to you .
I will try! Thank you!
You and your mom will survive, but you will never be the same.
Nor would you want to be.
The good memories will return, but it takes time. Nothing profound – it just takes time.
I’m so sorry for your losses.
Thank you!!!
It’s a really hard thing to get over. I still see things that remind me of a dog I had who died four years ago and I feel like crying. You have my full sympathy.
Thank you!
unending seems the grief
life ends not a disbelief
yet……..
the love is missed
of the one kissed
solace be upon you
Cricket saw the writer in you
Thank you!
I’m so, so sorry for your loss.
Thank you!
Sending you warm thoughts as I read this. So sorry for your loss. I hope the pain will quickly pass, and you will be able to focus on the good times you had together.
Thank you!
This past month, I learned firsthand what it is to grieve over a pet. On March 11, my boyfriend and I lost our sweet black cat, Steg, suddenly. So, I understand what you’re going through.
I’m so sorry!
It will stay for a while – however gradually it will get better ❤️🩹
I am so sorry to hear that both your dogs died! Over time, I think that the loss gets integrated into who we are.
Thank you!
I am sorry for your losses, Rachel. I can certainly relate. We lost our pup in January. I cry every day.
Thank you! I’m so sorry. They leave such a void when they go.
Oh. I was scrolling through WP quickly yesterday and saw this. I have not been very active on WP (it is so slow and annoying I start to read and it freezes and I get too impatient) lately so I am very, very behind. After seeing this I scrolled through your blog for the posts and information. I was on my way out to an appointment and was thinking about you the whole time. I was just now able to look at a few of the puppy posts. I am so sorry for your loss. I know it was months ago, but that doesn’t make me any less sorry or it be less painful for you. You’ve lost beloved pets before so you know there is no time limit to the sorrow. I imagine you are like me and sometimes the void of a past pet just hits you. I am sorry I am so late in knowing what happened and in expressing my sorrow. I know I am just a blog person, but I know how much your loved your babies and I know how much they are missed. Sending you hugs.
Thank you! These blogging connections are real and offer an incredible amount of comfort.
I have heard a bit about passover from a Christian perspective. My understanding was that it was about the angel of death passing over the the city to kill first born sons but passed over the Jewish homes who painted blood on the doorways.This was before or after Herod tried to kill the young boys, I think, while seeking to kill Jesus. I may not have the details right, and apologize.
On another note, I have had the privilege of attending a seder supper hosted by a rabbi who explained the history as he led us through the dinner.A very interesting experience.
Your dogs are so adorable, I understand it is very hard to lose them, especially so close together. The 2 owners of the dogs that I dog-sat for both lost their dogs (they died), but they still meet at the dog park every morning and walk the trails with the rest of the pack that they have joined for a number of years. Neither have bought new pets yet, maybe they won’t, it remains to be seen, but it gives them comfort to join the other dogs and visit the owners, plus they get to keep in shape.
Thank you! The exodus story that is memorialized on Passover is actually from about 1200 BCE, in Egypt. The story is that the Pharaoh was worried that the Israelite slaves were getting too strong and commanded that the midwives kill all newborn Israelite boys, but Moses was saved by his sister and sent down the Nile in a basket, where he was found and adopted by the pharaoh’s daughter. Then, when Moses is sent to convince pharaoh to let the Israelites go free, and ten plagues are sent to convince pharaoh, the final plague is the killing of the first born sons of Egypt. And the Israelites are told to place lamb’s blood on their doors to tell the angel of death to pass by these houses. It’s a pretty upsetting story, honestly. And the darkness of it is as important as the celebration of eventual freedom. One of my favorite things about Passover is that the story is just as important as the food or the rituals.
Thank you for setting me straight. I was mixing up my stories but happy I got some of it right. I will be sure to read this over again. The rituals in the celebration helps preserve memory and remind us of the significance. Your comment “the darkness of it is as important as the celebration of eventual freedom,” struck a chord with me.
Me too. I like that there’s always more to learn, especially about the things we think we already know well.
To this day my wife and I will bring up something cute about pets of ours that have been long gone. At least now the happiness outweighs that smidgen of grief– which will always be there.
Art
I hope I will get to that place soon, where the happiness outweighs the grief.
Going to my Women’s Seder next week. Missing Cricket and Ellie too! Hugging my goldendoodle Juno.
Enjoy!
I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thank you.
So many beautiful comments from others. It is clear how dogs are the most precious of companions to us humans.
We are down to two dogs from the sixteen that we had when we first moved to Southern Oregon. Cleopatra, a GSD, and Oliver, a part Labrador crossed with a sheepdog. They are both very friendly but Oliver especially so. I don’t obsess over losing them but also stray into the thought from time to time, and this post highlights the grief that is awaiting Jean and me.
Thinking of you.
Thank you!!!