Laughter Through Tears
I have a favorite line from the movie Steel Magnolias. Spoken at a grave site after someone made a tension-breaking remark, Dolly Parton’s character Truvy says, “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion”.
Since the recent death of my dog Bob, I have experienced periods of immobilizing grief. Here, I’ll write about Bob as a catharsis to loosen the grip this immense sorrow has on my heart. “But, this is a humorous blog”, you say. Well, Bob was a humorous dog so it’s appropriate to honor his memory in an amusing way.
I come from a family that puts the FUN in dysfunctional. We laugh a lot at funerals. We’re not disrespectful; it’s just that being witty is how we deal with grief. We’re not laughing at the deceased; we’re laughing with them. We figure they’re looking down (or up) and snickering at us because we had to get dressed up and spend time with each other. Given such a background, I think I can come up with a humorous bit or two about such a sad event as Bob’s passing.
A line from Eric Idle’s song, Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life, challenges us to always look on the bright side of death. Why not take a look at the lighter side of death? An absurd idea, maybe, but give it chance. I mean there has to be something entertaining, if not a little scary about me being outside in my jammies numerous times during the night…in the snow.
Bob was prescribed Prednisone. It made him drink a lot…and pee a LOT. What were the neighbors thinking in the middle of the night when they heard from my back yard, “It’s OK, Big Guy. Take your time. I’ll wait for you”? Caring for a terminally ill dog takes its toll. The lack of sleep and hygiene, the red eyes and runny nose from crying made me look like some kind of crack addict.
At first, I thought he was acting. If you knew Bob, you’d know that he was a dog who would do almost anything for attention. Was Bob capable of feigning a terminal disease just for the attention? After all, look at the special considerations he got in his last days. I fashioned steps up to my bed that Bob thought were the proverbial stairway to heaven. During his final days, Bob took pleasure in having breakfast in bed, eating chicken prepared by his vegetarian mom and peeing while lying down.
Each of Bob’s last days brought a visit from his girlfriend, Maeve. This fun-loving little Fox Terrier had a way of getting Bob to rise to the occasion. He would muster the energy to trot after her through the living room or go for a walk to the end of the block and back. We started calling Maeve Bob’s little “call girl” because all I had to do was call, and her mom would chauffer her to see him. My brother says a visit like that tends to give any guy a little pep in his step.
Bob danced into my life because he was such a happy dog. He left in the same manner. When the doctor came for the final house call, Bob even summoned the energy to greet him at the door with a smile and a wagging tail.
A friend recently told me the story of how her dog was too small for the breeder to sell. When she heard that the puppy weighed only 2.5 pounds she said, “Perfect. That’s just how much my heart weighs!” My heart weighed 90 lbs.
Pat,
Wow, you got me with that last sentence. Mine weighed 120, and I can totally relate to everything you wrote. There’s nothing for grief but getting through it, but shifting the focus from the tears and longing to one of remembering the happy and even funny times, really does seem to help. I love that Bob had a “call girl” and that you had each other. You were both very lucky.
Take care,
NIcole
Pat,
All of us who have loved and lost a 4-legged companion can relate to Laughter through Tears, but none of us could have written or shared it half as well as you did with your story. Bless you for being who you are to your companions, through laughter and through the tears, but mostly for reminding us how priveleged WE are to have been in their lives. And Thank you for sharing your emotions.
Keep it up – you are inspiration to all of us ‘creatures’ here on earth.
Ardy
It doesn’t hurt forever. It just seems that way. Here is my favorite quote:
“We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way. We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan.”
– Irving Townsend.
donna
Pat, this is just lovely. I know how hard it is to put strong feelings into words, but you did it beautifully and I’m feeling sad that I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing Bob. Bet I’d have loved him, too.
Pat, thank you for writing such a lovely tribute to Bob who I now feel I’ve had the opportunity to “meet” through your funny and heartfelt story about the ending stage of his life. What a way to memorialize him! I’m hoping that writing about him. . . and time. . .and knowing just how wonderfully caring you were to him– will help ease your sorrow.
Ruth
Pat, I am so sorry to hear that Bob has gone before you, he is in heaven, over the rainbow bridge. We never forget, it just gets a bit easier as the years move on.
Kristi and Kramer
Pat, I just picked up this email. I am so sorry about Bob Barker. I have not had to go through losing a pet for many years but I do remember how it feels. I could bring Bailey Barker (Bob’s cuz) over if that would cheer you up or you need some extra barking
. I am glad you have two other critters to comfort you. Your tribute to him was beautiful.
Sandy
We are so very sorry for your loss. Thanks for sharing your story.
Stephanie, Mark, Gretchen, Capri, and Muffin
So sorry to hear about Bob. I know how important he must’ve been to you.
Read Rudyard Kipling’s poem “The Power of the Dog”. It will break your heart into a zillion pieces, but at least you’ll know that you’re not alone. The loss of a family member is no respecter of the number of legs the family member had.
Dear Pat, it is just a year since you have been so helpful in consoling me with the death of Bojtar and here we are, the same happened in your family. I am so sorry for the loss of Bob, he was Bojtar’s “teacher” too, just flopping around Newark Street, trying to keep Bojtar on his side of the street. We had tears and laughter when Bojtar died and that is the right attitude. It is a shame when we have to part from our little furry friends, even if they are 90, or 120 lbs. of weight. Take care and keep on the good work in the doggy-world.
What a beautiful tribute you’ve written
I’m sure the love and care you gave to Bob in his last days, and throughout his life, meant more to him than anything else could. Keep the happy memories with you always!
This was an abosolutely touching and sweet tribute to Bob that has me on the verge of tears as I am also laughing…
By the way…my heart is currently 34 lbs and still growing