Hello collaborator!

Dogs have a way of weaving themselves throughout every corner of our daily lives. The activities we do with dogs uphold the structure of our days, providing scaffolding for getting out of bed, marking our meal times, engaging in regular exercise, and even creating and maintaining social contact with other humans. Living with a dog nourishes the rhythms of our bodies and enhances the vitality of our souls. And because of this deep entanglement, loving a dog is a guaranteed ticket to the loneliest encounter with grief.

One of the many tragic impacts of labeling dogs as “property” is that we dismiss the extremely significant loss of a dog as nothing more than an inconvenience. How many times have you been asked after the loss of your dog, “are you going to get another one?” How painful this question is to receive by those who long for their lost dog to be recognized as the truly valuable being that they were. How lonely it is to share your loss with another and be met with this dismissal combined with a strange encouragement to replace, as if dogs were objects that could be. 

I have loved and lost so many dogs in my life. I have cried and collapsed for each of them, usually alone, or sometimes with the comfort of another dog. But it has been a rare experience for my grief to be held in the presence of another human. This is not because we don’t care. I know we care, I know you care. But we don’t know how to hold this grief. We don’t know what to say or do, and we are so afraid of the dissolution that follows the confrontation of this experience, that we will do anything to avoid it. Engaging with grief requires an embrace of falling apart, and this is scary. It’s unfamiliar, which is enough to make anything uncomfortable, but the reality of having to fall apart all by ourselves, without any knowledge of how or if we can put ourselves back together again, is terrifying. If you have ever asked someone whether they’re going to get another dog, or if you have brought a wiggly floof into your home following the loss of yours, I don’t blame you, and I certainly don’t judge you. You were just trying to survive, like the rest of us. 

But I want you to know, there is another way. I am so grateful for my friend Meenadchi, who has a knack for being able to see things in me that I cannot see for myself, and who has encouraged and supported me in creating a very special new private coaching service. 

From my heart to yours, and for all the dogs we have loved –

I am humbled to offer Grief Guidance,

a unique grief doula service that provides a safe container for you to fall apart, and the support you need to put yourself back together. (see below)