Grief and Loss
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Our Thor
Last Pic of Molly - Yes She's Sitting in the Kitchen Sink
I’m sorry for our silence. We suffered some losses in the fall and that has given rise to some grief to be worked through and it has taken this long to get to a place where it is appropriate to share these things.
Thor and Molly are gone.
Molly was not a big surprise and we had some measure of influence over the timing. Louise wrote on Dec. 7th:
“Molly cat has been on a steady decline for three weeks now. We got her some medication to control pain and treat an infection she had to make her last days as comfortable as possible. She has not been eating very much the last few days and looked so fragile and weak we decided to take her to the vet to be euthanized this morning. It was such a hard decision to make and it broke my heart to see our feisty, ornery little Molly so weak and disoriented. At the ripe old age of 18 we knew she wasn’t going to bounce back and that it was her time to rest in peace.”
In fact, Molly had been in decline for about six months. She seemed to stabilize for a while, but she took a turn for the worst in November. There was sadness and grief for me, but there was mostly relief. She had always slept with us at night. In the last few months she had taken to sleeping in different places around the house that were hidden or isolated – it was like she was looking for safe places. Molly had always been an anxious cat, but it seemed like her anxiety was consuming her. When we got to the Vet’s and she was given the needle she lay down on my hand and slowly drifted off. It was peaceful and gentle. The staff were very compassionate. As a former hospital chaplain intimately familiar with death and end-of-life experiences, I was quite appreciative of their professionalism, gentleness and support.
Thor did not come back from one of his forays into the forest. We searched for him along the river and in the forest places we frequented together. We put up posters at local dog places from Manning to Grimshaw. Nothing. We don’t really know what happened, but we are confident that he is dead. There are a few reasons for this. As Louise observed, “… [We had] Thor for only six months and [he] had both become very special and loved even though [he] had “issues” that some people may not have accepted; … but we learned to manage him as best we could and give him love and attention for the time he was with us.” Thor was incredibly aggressive towards all manner of creatures not part of his pack when he was around home. When we took him off the farm he was usually OK with people unless there was something that put him off them. So we figure that he didn’t come back because he couldn’t, and it is inconceivable that he would allow a stranger to apprehend him. Our neighbour thinks an irresponsible hunter may have shot him. That’s possible I suppose. I think he left the farmyard responding to a threat, and got in over his head.
Louise was working alone in the yard that day. Thor would keep an eye on her whenever she was out working. This was always a source of comfort for me because Louise gets quite absorbed in her work and doesn’t pay attention to the forest around her – and with Thor around it wasn’t a problem, he watched for her. He wouldn’t leave her alone unless he thought it was necessary.
Based on observing him over the summer and seeing the choices he makes the soldier in me came to appreciate that Thor had a very sharp tactical sense about him. He was pretty good at analyzing threats and responding appropriately. I remember once coming back from a walk. We were moving through the middle meadow playing as we went and all of a sudden Thor wheeled and charged into the forest a few meters away with his war bark on. Moments later we heard the protests of a bear being chased crashing through the woods with Thor in hot pursuit. Based on the barking he seems to have kept on the bear for about a kilometer. On another occasion we were all walking along a trail. We came up a low rise and Louise and I could see a large black bear about 50 meters further down the trail walking away from us, but unaware of us as well. We stopped and watched as Thor moved on ahead of us to a point where he would be able to see the bear. As he began to crest he froze – then he relaxed a little and just observed, not barking or going after the bear. It seemed like he recognized the bear was not an immediate threat and that everything would be fine all things being equal, but he kept himself between the bear and us and remained quite alert. Eventually the bear happened to look back over his shoulder and boy was he surprised! He just kind of shook himself and bolted off into the forest to his right. Thor just sat down and watched him go, then he looked back at us with his tongue out as if to say, “You may continue your walk.” Another time while we were working outside with the Chipper I noticed that Thor was guarding us as he sat with his back to us peering up a trail that was the most likely approach from the forest. Thor was a dog with a job and he was very serious about it.
Nope. I can’t believe he just wandered off while Louise was working the chipper – it wasn’t in his nature. I believe he recognized a threat to Louise and decided it was best to go after it – given the time of year, probably wolves.
I have never had a dog before. I really bonded with Thor, and in a way I had never experienced before. He was a kindred spirit in many ways. He seemed like a warrior, and a wounded one at that – if he was human I would have said he displayed behaviours characteristic of someone with PTSD. He helped me feel a degree of safety and security that I had not been able to experience for a very long time. To a certain degree I still feel these things, albeit less so, so I think the experience of Thor was quite therapeutic for me.
Thor had strong boundaries surrounding physical contact, but he was letting both of us in. I had gotten to the point where he would let me hug him; sometimes I could put my head on his side when we were lying in the field. One thing I absolutely loved was the head thing. When I sat down on the ground often he would sit opposite and turn his head downward while leaning forward. One day I imitated him, and our foreheads came together gently. We just sat there holding that. Then one of us would break it and we would sit there looking into each other’s eyes. He had such beautiful brown eyes. They would glitter and it would be like he was smiling. He was a happy dog, a good companion and a fierce protector. Whatever happened, I hope it was swift.
In the days and weeks that followed I prayed over Thor. I asked God to return him to us, if that were still possible. And if it were not, I asked God to give Thor a home and to let him know how much we both loved him and missed him. I also asked that God keep Thor close and give him peace and security - take away his anxiety. This went on for about three weeks. One night I had the most wonderful dream. I was in the city in front of house I did not recognize. It was a comfortable summer day. And there was Thor, harnessed to some kind of small cart, which soon disappeared as he came to me. He sat down and I knelt down. He sat there smiling with his beautiful eyes, then we did the head thing and held it. I awoke with that image in my mind. I had such a peaceful feeling that I quickly named the dream a moment of grace and decided that God had answered my prayer by showing me that Thor was OK in a way that was powerful for me and that I could understand – the dream was so intensely real.
The day I took Molly to the Vet Louise wrote:
“This morning Dan & I woke up to -35°C temperatures. Yikes… too cold. The sun is out now and the house should get very warm this afternoon as the sun shines in all day because it is so low in the southern sky. The birds are taking advantage of the suet and seeds I have filled the feeders with this morning. We only have Bill our three and a half your old cat now. Thor did not come home four weeks ago now and we do not know what happened to him. It has been a difficult time losing two of our family members.”
Yes it has, but another soon entered our lives. Little Maddy, short for Madeleine, found her way to our Vet from an adoption place. They found her alongside a road with a severe road rash. She was 12 weeks when she joined us. She has been adopted by Bill and has settled right in to our lives. She is a cutie.
I guess I should say something about circle of life, and that they will live on in our hearts - blah, blah, blah. Those clichés are tired and they don’t speak to the pain of loss that still sits inside of me. I’m still grieving Thor’s untimely death and feeling the openness of my wound. In time I suppose that pain will turn to melancholy, then to acceptance – but I’m not there yet. I feel like I have lost a brother in arms. I need to honour him. I need a body to bury…
