She's not my blanky.

I've been reading several books on grieving for a lost pet. If you ever lose a pet and consider reading "Saying Goodbye to the Pet You Love" by Lorri Greene, skip it.

On p. 16, she says "Think back to when you were a child. You probably had many toys, but maybe you remember a special one...Remember Linus, from the comic strip Peanuts? He clung to his beloved blanket tenaciously and he panicked whenever he was separated from it, even briefly. His blanket gave him the comfort he needed to deal with the daily challenges of childhood. That feeling of attachment to a cherished toy or an object you had as a child can be experienced as an adult, too, as the feeling of attachment you have for your companion animals." Seriously? I don't think I need to explain any further why this is an extreme misunderstanding of the pet-human bond.

Most of the grief books I'm reading caution you against making big decisions, like getting a puppy, right away. This doesn't surprise me. What does surprise me is how important it is to me to have a new puppy so quickly after this kind of loss. I got Millie about eight days after Buttercup died. I got Ruby two days after Millie died. I would have got Ruby the very same day, but she was not quite ready for adoption.

This choice to get a new puppy seems to be misunderstood. I think some people worry that it is a desperate act to put a bandaid on a punctured artery, an attempt to either distract myself from my grief, or somehow replace Millie, or both. And I think almost everyone else thinks it is an indication that I've moved on and must therefore be fine. Someone said, the first time I saw him after Millie died, "I'm so sorry to hear about Millie. But the new one sure looks cute!" (he had seen pictures on facebook). I know what he meant, and he certainly meant to be comforting, and I appreciate that people even acknowledge the loss at all. But still...it's an example of how clumsy we are about death and grief. Sort of like "Hey, sorry you crashed your old car. But hey, now you can get an awesome new one."

So why did I get Ruby so soon? She is the only thing that can possibly make this whole nightmare seem real. As my mom said, she wouldn't be here if Millie was coming back. It's a hard reality, but it's one I have to face. In the two days before I got Ruby, I thought about whether or not I should wait, and I thought about my grief process if I waited. I realized that it would take months or longer to move out of the phase where I have to set aside hours every day for wailing. I don't know when, if ever, it would seem real. I think I would come to hate poor Darla for always being the only one to come to the door to greet me when I got home. So no, Ruby's no distraction. She's a reminder every minute that I can't go back in time. She tells me that I have a future, and I better follow her to get to it.