A woman displayes a tattoo of her father holding her dog.
BLOOMFIELD, NJ — National Pet Memorial Day, celebrated on the second Sunday of September, was observed for the fifth consecutive year at Van Tassel Funeral Home this past Sunday afternoon, Sept. 9.
The guest speaker was Claire Schwartz, a certified professional coach in grief counseling who spoke about the significance of grief when honoring a deceased loved one, in this instance, the family pet. But the emotional impact of the afternoon came from the lively recollections of her listeners. A small, but enthusiastic audience of eight was in attendance and at ease expressing their loss. They lived in Bloomfield or had traveled a distance and some had previously attended the event.
Most of the counseling Schwartz provides is for people suffering from human loss while the mourning of a pet, she said, is something often overlooked.
“Grief and loss includes any major life change where today is not like yesterday and changes the trajectory of your life,” she said. Even the loss of a friendship, Schwartz said, produces a grief that must be acknowledged for one’s well-being.
“I don’t even like the word ‘pet,’” she said. “Legally, a pet is property. But I don’t consider them property. If you lose a human loved one, often it is a pet that helps you through it. All grief has to be honored. A pet that dies is not like a tire going flat.”
It was now that audience members began to speak out.
Louie, from Fairfield, said he kept the licence of a childhood dog, “Ringo,” attached to a wall in his home. The dog died when it was 18 years old.
“If you love it, you love it,” said Louie, who was with his wife, Mary.
Romona, a Bloomfield resident, said it was her third time coming to the event. She had brought a picture of her dog “Lulu.” It hung nearby.
Ppeople attending a pet memorial in Bloomfield place stones with their pet’s name beneath birch trees planted for the site.
“I waited 20 years to get her,” she said emotionally. “I was with a person who didn’t want a dog, they said they made a mess.”
When this person departed, Romona said she got Lulu.
Louie said he and his wife had a dog, too. Its name was “Talia,” but his wife did not want it at first. In recalling this pet, for the most part, Mary provided the narrative with Louie often making comments.
“Talia” was owned by a woman with two children. The woman was going to give the dog away to an elderly woman.
“But the old lady backed out,” Louie said.
Talia was a four-year-old dog that did not shed and Louie agreed to take it even though Mary did not want the dog. Still, when the owner arrived with Talia, Mary showed the owner around the house. Suddenly, the owner said “OK” and left.
“That just hit me the wrong way,” Mary said. “My heart turned to the dog. It was as though she was abandoned.”
The dog initially went through a period of stress when it was kept in a room with a cement floor. So the dog was allowed the run of the house. Mary said this made Talia very happy. She later found out that the dog had been kept by the previous owner in a room with a cement floor.
The next experience Louie and Mary related was when they took their son off to college. They both came home crying.
“That’s grief, too,” Schwartz said.
And Talia was not herself, either. She was taken to a veterinarian who told them the dog was experiencing anxiety because of their son’s absence. The vet suggested giving the dog an undershirt worn by their son. So the couple and the dog went to the son’s school for the undershirt. The dog was ecstatic when she saw the boy again.
“This tells us that pets are family,” Schwartz said.
Louie and Mary had Talia for seven years. Mary said she was given the OK by the vet, but she died three months later from a kidney ailment. Louie, who was wearing T-shirt with the likeness of a border collie — Ringo was a border collie — pointed to the shirt.
“This dog only went to the vet three times in its entire life,” he said.
“That’s all I hear,” Mary said with a good-natured laugh. “Talia went to the vet every three months.”
A Lynhurst woman, Roe, talked about her dog, “Sheba.” She rolled up her sleeve to display a tattoo of Sheba on her right arm. The dog died last November.
“This is her paw in my hand,” Roe said pointing to the image.
Then she pulled the sleeve to her shoulder revealing another tattoo. This was of a man holding a small, white dog.
“This is my father holding Sheba,” she said. Her father had died two years ago. Roe said Sheba contracted meningitis and she paid $22,000 in veterinary bills.
“I would have paid more if I could have spent more time with her,” Roe said.
Schwartz had a story, too. It seems that she had a cat named “Duncan” who would know if a date she brought home was either right or not right for her. The cat often sat between Schwartz and her date.
“That’s why I chose my husband,” she said. “He took the time to gain her respect.”
Standing before her audience, Schwartz now put her hands on her hips and pretended she was Duncan appraising the man Schwartz would marry whose name was Mark. After the appraisal, Schwartz said Duncan went to the front door and sprayed it as if to say. “This is my territory.”
“That didn’t faze Mark,” she said. “He had worked in a pet store and would take the sick animals home to care for them. He would never get rid of an animal.”
Following the recollections, flat stones were given out for people to write the name of the pet they were honoring that day. Everyone then went outside where annually the stones are placed near a white birch tree planted especially for the first Pet Memorial Day at Van Tassel’s. It was raining lightly. A prayer was said and hands were held.
Coffee and cake followed.
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