Blog: One Year Without My Boy

Today marks the one year anniversary of Harvey’s passing. If you are new to this blog, me, or just need a refresher, Harvey was my thirteen & a half year old Golden Retrieve. He was my first dog that I ever got for myself, that wasn't a family dog, & he & I were together from the summer of my nineteen year until this exact date last year. I don’t want this blog to be about that loss, or that story, so if you’re interested in that full rigamarole I will like it just below here so that you can have context if you so desire.

No, this blog won’t be about that loss, at least not in the immediate sense. This entry into my open journal that I broadcast across the internet will instead be about the year that followed & how that has presented itself in my day to day life.

I think it’s worth noting that I consider Harvey to be my ‘soul animal.’ If you are unaware of what that is, a soul animal is a pet that you have a bond so deep with that there’s no way they aren’t tied into you on a spiritual level. If you believe that sort of thing. Harvey was my guy, my furry rock for a large portion of my adolescent life, & losing him felt like losing a chunk of myself. Harvey was also a dog that so many bonded with over the thirteen & a half years of his life. He was a pinnacle of pupdom, if you will.

This last year without his was something I always knew I’d have to face one day, but was something that I had no clue would hit me nearly as hard as it did. You see, grief is a sneaky, shifty thing. It lays in wait for you to stumble upon a photo, or for a memory to come skittering back into your mind. It rips you back to a time or place that has long since passed & sinks longing into your bones. But I don’t want to sound like I think grief to be this dark looming figure that haunts you in the wee hours of the night. I think in my mind grief is an illusive figure that wraps a melancholic hug around your neck & whispers gently in your ear “I’m sorry.”

I think the thing that hit me hardest over the last year are the moments you don’t expect. The photos, the videos, the stories; you expect to have them in your life & to have them resurface from time to time, it’s the unexpected that gets you. What do I mean by that? Just a few weeks ago I was out walking Peter, our five year old blonde Golden Retriever. We rounded the corner & a couple hundred yards up the road there was a woman walking away from us with a red Golden. I suppose I should stop here & mention that Harvey was a red Golden with a burnt umber coat. Peter freaked out. He wanted nothing more than to run after the other dog, to meet up with them, in the small hope that her dog was in fact Harvey. It ripped my heart out & I turned him to walk the other way the whole time saying “I know bud, but it’s not him,” & having him insistently peering back in their direction & whining to turn back around. That’s what I mean by the unexpected.

I will say it gets easier, the heart begins to heal, but there are still times when even the expected will make me miss him so deeply that it brings me to tears. I simply step aside, acknowledge the hurt & the ache of loss, smile at the utter privilege it is to have loved so deeply that the absence still lingers on, & I continue on with living while missing him.

The other moments where I am brought to tears are those where I awaken from dreams where he is there. These are the worst because they often feel so utterly real. They feel like he’s back or like he’s visiting & I typically wake up sobbing into a pillow just fall back asleep, grateful for his visit in the dreamworld.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my dog with all of my being, but I’ve definitely gotten to the point where it’s just a part of me that I carry. I’m not holding onto that grief or letting it consume me by any means but I think his is a part of myself that I will spend the remainder of my days missing. He is a part of my soul that has flown this earth & that which remains of me aches from the separation.

Harvey passed on the morning of May 24th, 2024. It was a day I knew was coming but one that wasn't made any easier by its impending. I think I was a ghost of a human for about the two weeks following & definitely operated at less than full capacity for probably a month or so after. He still holds an empty bed in my home. He still has toys that live scattered amongst the furniture & tucked away in closets. I still find the signatures of the life he lived; a tuft of hair here, a nose smudge on a glass there, a hole in the back yard that he dug that I still have yet to fill. The corner of the kitchen where he used to lay & watch the world go by from the window no longer carries his soul but still bares the remainder of his physical being though in its altered form. No longer wrapped in warmth & fur, he is now but a cherry box of ashes that bares his name embroidered in gold letters.

I know I said this a year ago, but I miss my dog y’all. I miss my best friend, my silent confidant whose deep brown eyes never wavered from love & intuitive understanding. I miss his smile (yes, he smiled, & he did so near constantly), I miss when he was silly & clumsy, I miss his stinky breath in the morning from the side of the bed, I miss how much he loved, not just me but everyone who had the privilege of meeting him. I know that all of this will fade with time & distance but some days, like today, weight heavier than others.

It is my honest hope that all of you get to experience that kind of love at some point in your life. That non-judgemental, truly unconditional love that heals your soul & makes you feel truly seen. & though the pain of its eventual loss may feel like a consequence that outweighs the benefit, I promise you it isn’t. My heart only bleeds this much because of him, because he loved me as I am; through nights where I couldn’t imagine facing another morning, through break-ups, meltdowns, revelations, disappointments, trials, loss, depression, pain, & brokenness, he loved me. On the days where I was not a good owner, a good caregiver, a good friend, he loved me. Through the highest highs & the lowest lows, he loved me & wow, what a gift that is

If you are a pet owner I want you to hold your pets a little tighter today, give them a treat, take them on a longer walk, because they are special, they are sacred, & they give to us so very much for what amounts to so little in return.

I love you eternally Harv. Thanks for being all that you didn’t have to be. I’ll see you in my dreams my sweetest boy.

As always, much love to you all,

-C

Blog: What Is Grief If Not Love Persevering?

Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m not here to spoil the ending of WandaVision for you all, nor am I here really to review the show either. In reality I wanted to talk about something very much outside of the show itself. If you haven’t been watching WandaVision, Disney+’s excellent show about Wanda Maximoff & her endless grief you’re seriously missing out, especially if you’re someone who claims to be a Marvel fan. I know a lot of us, myself included, weren’t exactly hype over the reality bending sitcom that the show initially presented itself as but boy was I wrong to feel as such. You see, the MCU aside, WandaVision paints a very interesting picture of how we as humans (or super humans) handle grief.

(MCU Post Avengers: Endgame Spoilers To Follow)

At the end of Avengers: Endgame we are left in the fallout of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes having to sacrifice a great deal to save the universe at large from Thanos & his plan to (successfully) wipe out half of all life in the universe. A study of grief & loss in it of itself especially the first act or so, Endgame concludes with the funeral of Tony Stark & the retirement of Captain America, the respective friends & families of whom are left to mourn on their own as they go their separate ways. Each of these groups of individuals have their own support systems in place to help their grief & consul them with the exception of Wanda who after losing her love, Vision, in Infinity War is left with no one. Truly no one. And there in lies the true tragedy of Wanda Maximoff.

Wanda is an outsider to the rest of the Avengers at the best of times. Entering the MCU as a follower of Ultron, Wanda reluctantly becomes an Avenger with a little talking up from Hawkeye before losing her brother, Pietro, in the ensuing battle. At this point in the timeline Wanda has known her fair share of grief. Having grown up in war torn Sakovia, Wanda & Pietro lost their parents to violence at an early age. Following the Age of Ultron Wanda is inducted into the Avengers & basically becomes the linchpin that the events of Civil War revolve around. She is tossed in the middle of a conflict by people who treat her as an outsider, as someone who doesn’t entirely belong. Only Vision, a fish out of water himself, seems to care to show Wanda genuine kindness & humanity.

Why do I tell you all of this? Why give you the MCU wiki page on Wanda for the purpose of discussing grief? Because perspective is important, as is recollection. If you’re an avid MCU watcher you’ve no doubt noticed Wanda being sequestered to being a side character throughout the films despite her overall importance to the plot of each film she is featured in. I think this is intentional. She is meant to feel alone, isolated, because that is what she is. Wanda is a tragic character destined for misunderstanding & that is why taking the time, as Marvel/Disney+ have done, to give her breathing character moments is so important & relatable.

Wanda’s grief is poignant to us because she is forced to save face & continue foraging through her life without taking the time to offload the accumulating grief & pain she is baring. She is forced to be strong, to be an Avenger because people are afraid & don’t know how to handle her emotions & her sadness. Wanda is forced to carry these things on her own until she cracks, until she can no longer hold it in any longer & has to find some way of coping with her sorrow in a manner most would deem unhealthy.

So often we do exactly this; we don’t make the time or have the energy or the support systems in place to allow ourselves to truly face the things the are weighing us down. We mask our pain, we bottle it up, we let the rot fester until it consumes us because we decide that’s easier on our peers than honesty. We don’t want to inconvenience people or come of as weak so instead we self destruct. This is beautiful illustrated in WandaVision. Wanda had no one left to turn to, no one left to hold her & consul her so she creates them. She fell down the rabbit hole into a fantasy that ended up doing harm to those who happened to be caught in her orbit simply by proximity.

Gah, there’s another statement to be said here about the ending of this series but I won’t spoil it, especially since we’re still within 24 hours of it having dropped.

We have to be more self aware, we have to give ourselves more grace & love. We have to recognize the signs that tell us to stop & grieve; to process the emotions & trauma we are going through because if we don’t, no one will. The world will just keep chugging onward piling on new experiences & fresher wounds that just stack on top of the ones we haven’t taken the time to heal until we can no longer take it & we break. We have to show ourselves a little of the love we’ve lost along the way because as Vision so beautifully stats, “what is grief if not love persevering?”

WandaVision is a beautiful look at the consequences of grief avoided. It sees the beauty in the sadness & illuminates pain in a way that is relatable to all. Give it a watch & don’t forget to check in on yourself from time to time.