Many people are often all too well aware that if a pet owner dies, and that pet is given to another family member to take care of, they will notice that the pet, whether it'd be a dog or cat, will demonstrate a period of loss for its former owner. The pet may be lethargic, and no doubt could be viewed as going through a period of depression and even grief every bit as powerful as when a person experiences the death of a loved one. What most people may not realize however, is that pets will demonstrate the same grief if another pet member dies, especially in a multi-pet household. Pets can develop ties and bonds of friendship between each other every bit as strong and as powerful as we humans can. I know this to be all too true, for within the past few months, several of my friends who have a number of pets and have had one of their beloved pets die, have told me that the surviving pet or pets, have very much sensed a lost in their lives. They have told me that their remaining pets have demonstrated such behavior as from going from room to room as if in search for their missing friend, to acting completely lethargic and listless, to outright vocal sounds similar to wailing, howling or whimpering.
I can also testify to the grief an animal can exhibit when one of their "pals" dies. I've had pets, particularly cats nearly all my life, so there have indeed been many deaths of my pets during the years, and one never gets really used to the death of their pet companion. But one incident has stood out more in my memory than anything else in all these years.
Back in July of 1975, one of first cats that I had gotten, had died. At the time we had burial plots at the Wantaugh Bide-A-Wee cemetery out in Long Island, New York. My mother took Friskey's body and made the trip out to Bide-A-Wee to make arrangements for his burial. When she came back, she wasn't exactly alone, for in the traveling case she had, out popped a small grey and white kitten...my mother said it was a replacement for Friskey. She had chosen him, she said, since when looking at all the kittens for adoption, this one little kitten kept pawing and grabbing at her, as if pleading to her to take him home, and that she did. We named this male kitten, Mickey and he officially came into our lives on July 12, 1975.
Now you have to realize, that at the time we still had a number of cats, and it wasn't as if Friskey had been the only feline member of our household. We also still had our very first cat, Babette, plus Biddy, Snoopy and Patchouli. Each had their own unique personalities, and were very friendly cats, and got along very well with one another. It became apparent however, that Mickey was a very shy kitten, and bit of a recluse and didn't interact with the other cats. That is until the arrival of another cat on September 15th of the same year.
My mother was at work, and a fellow co-worker had brought in a large traveling case with a litter of weaned kittens that had been born to his female cat. He was hoping that people would take an interest and take and adopt the kittens. Well my mother's co-workers were absolutely charmed by the cuteness of the kittens, and took their pick of the litter, all except one, for some reason no one wanted this one kitten. Well, having the soft heart that she had, and feeling sorry that no one wanted this one kitten, you can imagine who "rescued" the kitten.
Now Mickey in the meantime was still trying to adapt himself to his new environment, but as I said, he had a rather reclusive type personality and kept to himself. All that changed with the entrance of this new white and tabby male kitten, of whom we christened Tommy. From day one, for whatever unexplained known reason, those two male cats bonded like nothing I've ever seen before, they were a true frick and frack and inseparable. And what an odd couple there were. Mickey was to always remain a petite, dainty looking cat, while Tommy grew into a rather large sized cat, twice the size nearly as his companion friend. This wonderful bond between these two cats was to last for twelve years, and may have lasted longer, but it wasn't to be.
It was July 14, 1987, and it was late at night, around three o'clock in the morning. My then still living grandmother, and mother were fast asleep, but I was still awake, lying in bed reading before retiring myself. All of a sudden I heard this strange gasping sound, and at first thought it was perhaps one of the cats having a hairball attack. But curious, I got out of bed, to see who was choking and gasping. And then I saw it. Right near our entrance door, was Tommy, lying on his side on the floor, not only choking, but having some kind of seizure. To this day, some twenty years later, I still have no idea what happened to him, as only early that day, he had been his usual self, running and playing around with his pal, Mickey.
As you can imagine I was beside myself, not having a clue what to do for this wonderful big, smooch of a cat. Being so late, naturally there weren't any vets opened at that time of night, save for the one twenty-four hour veterinary clinic in Manhattan. However, it wouldn't have mattered if we had taken him there, as time would've been against us. Not knowing what to do, and crying hysterically, all I could think of doing was to sit on the floor next to his convulsing body, gently pull Tommy toward me, resting his head on my lap, while saying his name over and over and over again; I wanted to let him know I was nearby. In a span of perhaps only fifteen minutes, that wonderful cat's life was over. Not only were my grandmother, mother and I filled with grief over the death of Tommy, someone else was also; Tommy's faithful companion and friend, Mickey. Mickey demonstrated extreme lethargy, no matter how hard we tried to cheer him up and give special attention to him. Then Mickey was to receive a further blow for my grandmother, of whom he had gotten attached to, passed away on October 8th of the same year. I witnessed Mickey slipping further and further into depression, until his grief must have been so deep, that on November 30, 1987, he too, passed away.
All these memories of this wonderful bond these two cats had, and of how the survivor cat, Mickey came to grief over the death of his animal companion came flooding back to me, some twenty years later. I only recently came across an article that was included in an e-mail to me. I subscribe to the e-mail newsletter, PetPlace.com, and in this one particular issue, was all about this very subject I'm discussing here, of how pets do truly grieve over their pet companions that they have bonded with. In it, it even suggests that the survivor pet be allowed to view the body of it's companion, to have that pet realize the finality that their friend is no more with them.
To quote from the article itself: ..."For a pet that was closely bonded with another, displaying the deceased's body may help the survivor accept the finality of the event - to bring "closure," so to speak. When death separates a closely bonded animal from a loved one, whether a person or another pet, the pet may exhibit classical stages of grieving - becoming less active, eating less, sleeping fitfully, and generally appearing depressed. Whether allowing a cat to see a body for a last goodbye lessens the grief is not known. However, if the human experience is anything to go by, it may help some come to terms with what has transpired."......
So, do pets grieve when their pet companion friend dies? Oh, yes they most certainly do. I myself, I can testify first hand to the grief a survivor pet will demonstrate, and sometimes with such intensity that, that pet will often succumb to death itself.
If you wish to view the entire article from PetPlace.com please click to this link:
1 comment:
If you will remember, a couple of years ago I loved half of the pair of Ping and Pong. Ping was the more personable one of the pair, but he was also more dependent on his brother. We miss Ping a lot, but if one of them had to go, it was better it was Ping because I don't think Ping would've survived Pong's death as well as Pong survived Ping's.
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