Pet Loss and the Afterlife
19 Jul, 2023
When I first discovered my dog had died, I remember touching her neck and being shocked at the stiffness. My first thought was, "This isn't my dog anymore." The Lola that I knew, the soul of her, was gone. And I kept telling myself this when I had to clean the body, wrap it up in a blanket, and then leave it at the vet's office. I would normally panic at having to be away from my dog, but I felt weirdly OK about it. After all, it wasn't Lola anymore — it was just her body.
Afterwards, when I went over to my parents' house, my mom tried to cheer me up by telling me that my dog was in heaven with Jasmine, an old family dog we had growing up. I got tensely quiet, which my mom noticed.
She asked, "If you don't believe in heaven, then where do you think she went?"
I said, "I don't know."
Because that's my honest answer. I don't know how I feel about spirituality. I was raised very Christian, then became a hardcore atheist in college, and then softened into an agnostic. I think it's arrogant to pretend like you have all the answers. Agnosticism simply means that "you don't know," and I don't.
However, I've always been a staunch cynic and skeptic, too. My husband is the exact same way, if not worse. We once watched a Netflix documentary about psychics communicating with the dead and we were both so irritated. "These con artists are taking advantage of sad, desperate people and their grief," we thought.
And yet here I am, now also a sad, desperate person. A vulnerable target for the whole "spirituality / pet afterlife / psychic" stuff. And I wish I could stay true to my bitter, cynical heart, but I've fallen down quite the rabbit hole lately.
It started over a r/PetLoss. I used to avoid "dead pet" stories. As my dog got visibly older, strangers would stop me in the street and tell me about how they lost their dog recently and how my dog reminded them of theirs. I sympathized with them, but my dog was still alive. It felt like they were trying to drag me into their grief, and I really hated that.
But since losing my dog, I think I get it now. There's this feeling like you're the only one going through it, and it's very healing talking about it and reading other people's stories. Because all the stories are vaguely similar. Everyone's filled with guilt. Everyone is wondering how they're going to move on. Everyone complains about how their house is so big and quiet now. Everyone wonders if they'll ever get over it.
One comment that really stuck out to me was from someone who said they started asking their dog to visit them in their dreams. "If you guys are into spirituality, I recommend watching [some lady's] videos on YouTube," they wrote. "They really helped me."
I went on YouTube and found out the woman is a "pet psychic" who communicates with animals in the afterlife and immediately rolled my eyes. So this is my life now?
I stayed up into 4am watching them all.
The thing that stuck out to me was that she said the "phantom noises" that happen often after death shouldn't be ignored or written off. My husband and I have often spoken about how we still hear the dog. I still hear her footsteps and once even heard what sounded like her stomach grumbling from under the bed.
Yesterday, while cooking, I could've sworn I heard what sounded like my dog dropping her bone on the ground, something she always did. And then, last night, my nightstand shook to the noise of what sounded like my dog's coughing. Is my dog communicating with me from the afterlife? Or have I gone insane?
It's times like this when religion makes sense, because they provide answers people can't realistically answer. "Your pet died for a reason," the YouTube lady said, which was the exact same thing I remember hearing at church. "Everything happens for a reason," a pastor would say. "This awful thing happened to teach you something and make your devotion to Christ stronger." Is this not the same bullshit?
But I want to believe it.