What I loved most about this post were the questions raised.
WHY do we helplessly love some creatures so much more than others? WHY do we form these intense relationships with our pets when we KNOW they will likely die before us and it will feel like the worst thing that ever happened? And is it possible to love all creatures equally?
I know that to love all of creation without preference or favoritism is to be enlightened or god-like. And I can imagine how wonderful it would feel—to totally delight in every living being that one encounters. There is also sort of guilt involved and knowing that one is falling short, when we put things on a scale and have favorites. On the other hand, having favorites is also so much fun!
I am rambling here. I love current dog friend, Minnie, so much I don't know what to do. And she really loves me. Having this intense connection with a creature of a different species is really quite bizarre. But there it is!
Anne, I'm so glad the questions were meaningful to you. I can extend my compassion to all animals easily. I make many choices in my life (especially with my diet, which is completely plant-based) not to cause unnecessary suffering and death to other sentient beings. But love, love is something else altogether. It's the biggest, hardest, most beautiful, most painful thing. And... I'm so glad you have Minnie in your life.
I love the couple of throughlines woven together in this essay. I am a single mother of two, and grew up with dogs, and found it so relatable. Very accurate characterizations of grief.
Thank you. Not many--even within my circles of activist comrades--fully embrace the social justice/animal/environment nexus. Zoe Weil knows the interconnection. The horrors we allow for any being, any misperceived "otherness," we condone for all--with all its consequences.
The most elegant statement of this, I think, is still by Tolstoy: "As long as there are slaughterhouses there will be battlefields."
I can so relate to this, thank you. Tears are flowing again for my dearest little friend of all the world Fifi. We have rescued many dogs and I love them all, but Fifi was beyond compare. She was not taken by disease prematurely like Elsie was, but instead lived to a grand old age and one day just looked up at me as if to say, "I have to go now Mum" Love and miss you every day my darling girl.
Louise, thank you for sharing this with me. I'm so glad you had Fifi through old age, but I know that doesn't make the loss any easier. Holding you and Fifi in my heart.
Oh, Louise, I'm sorry for your loss. And I know that look so well. Yes, they are with us constantly in our hearts and memories. I'm glad you had Fifi with you on this plane for so long!
thank you for sharing. This resonates so true, as grief over people as well as pets has been at the center of my journey to freedom. Fortunately, not all cultures shy away form the dying, and grief.
I have always been a dog person, oh, we had cats as well. I just didn't communicate with them as well. My husband passed away 10 years ago, leaving me with my loving and lovable Golden Retriever, and two cats. I poured my tears in to ZuZu's coat, and she would comfort me for days on end. The cats? Well they're cats. What did I know. I fed them, I pet them, and I was grateful for their service in keeping my home mouse free. One year after my husband passed, I went home, opened the door, slightly wondering why my precious ZuZu wasn't charing to see me. But I had to make the dash to the bathroom. When I came out, and I looked for her, I found her. She lay still at the front door. My two cats were gently circling her. I couldn't take in that she had passed, yet she had.
For days, all I could think of was how I would be coming home to an even more empty house. The thought was crippling. But doors close and doors open. When I left the house and came back one afternoon, my cats, who never use to come and greet me, did. And they taught me their language. I believe this all happens when we are willing to make space for the grief and the love that are in fact ,indivisible. It all leaves me with the thought that perhaps we simply love, and often that love seems quantatative only because of language.
Thank you for sharing your story! I'm glad you had all those wonderful, loving years with ZuZu. And I'm so glad you have these unexpectedly beautiful years with your kitties! Yes, we all have our own love language--luckily, in the end, it's universal.
Because. They, as are we, are all different. And Every emotion, too, has its different level of intensity and duration. Anger, grief, joy. It is normal. No two alike. Just like snowflakes. Just like our favorite tree… There can be close in likeness, but no identical.
But that one life. The life that looks us in the eye and says that “ You are mine “. And then elicits the same response from us. There is nothing to be done for it. It is a bond that forever stands outside all others…forever.
Deeply meaningful and beautiful. It does bring up the question of different depths of love. I was a wildlife rehabilitator and have had several disabled squirrels as family members. The second one I had was Wheezer, he deeply slipped right to my heart. He had an accident at age three and passed. He was my soul mate. I can't explain why. To this day I can cry thinking of his passing (It has been 17 years!). I have had three squirrels since Wheezer, I loved them all, but not like Wheezer. Sometimes I wonder if these animals were with us in pass lives.....who knows? :)
Oh, Ann, I'm so sorry about Wheezer! I've struck up friendships with the squirrels who live in my back garden. I was very close to one in particular. This summer s/he had squirrel pox (I didn't previously know this was a thing...so horrible) and died. My heart will never be the same. I completely understand crying many years later. I so admire the work you did as a rehabilitator. And, yes, I do believe we've often known them in past lives!
Thanks for the lovely article about he deep love of companion animals. I'm sure many, if not most, people have favorite animals or children, but people don't talk about that. It's great that you've shared your thoughts and experiences.
I have only loved one dog, and at my age won’t have the chance to love many more. So Zoe’s reflections on dogs got me thinking about humans--specifically my sister and me, loved in very different ways by our mother. My sister struck more notes than I did on the scale of maternal emotion. This wasn’t okay to young me, but my perspective has changed. What we call “love,” as if it were a unitary thing, takes many forms. Thank you, Zoe, for your insight, and Jane for publishing it here.
Thank you for these insights, Rona. This is something I, too, have been pondering in recent years, but I'm not sure I've made quite the progress you have! But you've given me much to think about.
If we loved equally, from where would our stories come? Fifteen years into fostering and foster failing, I can share stories of each animal that has graced our home. I grieved every loss to an adopter or to the end of life. Nothing compares to the extent of my first love, Snuka. I feel your pain and know the extent of your love. Beautifully written.
Death is what make life so valuable. Sad but true.
I lost my 9 yo dog Buddy last summer while recovering from cancer and my subsequent stem cell transplant. It was difficult, but I was helped by my contemplation of death in the 10 months prior to Buddy's death.
There is only the present, you cannot control the past at all, and you can only prepare for what you expect the future to bring. I am comforted by my family, my wife and my two dogs I have left Poppy, and Honey Dog.
Oh, Richard, I'm so sorry to hear about Buddy. Especially as he left during such a vulnerable time for you. I'm glad you have your family and Poppy and Honey Dog (love the all the names!). What would we do without our sweet babies?? And, yes, death is the most potent reminder to stay present. I hope your health continues to improve.
What I loved most about this post were the questions raised.
WHY do we helplessly love some creatures so much more than others? WHY do we form these intense relationships with our pets when we KNOW they will likely die before us and it will feel like the worst thing that ever happened? And is it possible to love all creatures equally?
I know that to love all of creation without preference or favoritism is to be enlightened or god-like. And I can imagine how wonderful it would feel—to totally delight in every living being that one encounters. There is also sort of guilt involved and knowing that one is falling short, when we put things on a scale and have favorites. On the other hand, having favorites is also so much fun!
I am rambling here. I love current dog friend, Minnie, so much I don't know what to do. And she really loves me. Having this intense connection with a creature of a different species is really quite bizarre. But there it is!
I know! Those questions really got me thinking! And, yes, I'm always acutely aware on some level that my babies will go before me. Oof.
Favoritism has played a painful role in my family so it's something I'm so mindful of. But as Zoe explores, it's part of the human condition.
Yay for Minnie and your wonderful, bizarre, cross-species love affair! May there be many many many more years!
Anne, I'm so glad the questions were meaningful to you. I can extend my compassion to all animals easily. I make many choices in my life (especially with my diet, which is completely plant-based) not to cause unnecessary suffering and death to other sentient beings. But love, love is something else altogether. It's the biggest, hardest, most beautiful, most painful thing. And... I'm so glad you have Minnie in your life.
Thank you Zoe!
I love the couple of throughlines woven together in this essay. I am a single mother of two, and grew up with dogs, and found it so relatable. Very accurate characterizations of grief.
I agree! It's more complex than we often allow. Zoe goes deep!
Thanks Michelle. I appreciate your comment very much.
Thank you. Not many--even within my circles of activist comrades--fully embrace the social justice/animal/environment nexus. Zoe Weil knows the interconnection. The horrors we allow for any being, any misperceived "otherness," we condone for all--with all its consequences.
The most elegant statement of this, I think, is still by Tolstoy: "As long as there are slaughterhouses there will be battlefields."
I agree! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you Roberta. I couldn't agree more!
I can so relate to this, thank you. Tears are flowing again for my dearest little friend of all the world Fifi. We have rescued many dogs and I love them all, but Fifi was beyond compare. She was not taken by disease prematurely like Elsie was, but instead lived to a grand old age and one day just looked up at me as if to say, "I have to go now Mum" Love and miss you every day my darling girl.
Louise, thank you for sharing this with me. I'm so glad you had Fifi through old age, but I know that doesn't make the loss any easier. Holding you and Fifi in my heart.
Oh, Louise, I'm sorry for your loss. And I know that look so well. Yes, they are with us constantly in our hearts and memories. I'm glad you had Fifi with you on this plane for so long!
You touched my heart and helped express the inexpressible times when special animals steal our heart and then own them forever. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you Debra. I'm glad.
Well put! I agree! I still have chats with kitties from my childhood.
thank you for sharing. This resonates so true, as grief over people as well as pets has been at the center of my journey to freedom. Fortunately, not all cultures shy away form the dying, and grief.
I have always been a dog person, oh, we had cats as well. I just didn't communicate with them as well. My husband passed away 10 years ago, leaving me with my loving and lovable Golden Retriever, and two cats. I poured my tears in to ZuZu's coat, and she would comfort me for days on end. The cats? Well they're cats. What did I know. I fed them, I pet them, and I was grateful for their service in keeping my home mouse free. One year after my husband passed, I went home, opened the door, slightly wondering why my precious ZuZu wasn't charing to see me. But I had to make the dash to the bathroom. When I came out, and I looked for her, I found her. She lay still at the front door. My two cats were gently circling her. I couldn't take in that she had passed, yet she had.
For days, all I could think of was how I would be coming home to an even more empty house. The thought was crippling. But doors close and doors open. When I left the house and came back one afternoon, my cats, who never use to come and greet me, did. And they taught me their language. I believe this all happens when we are willing to make space for the grief and the love that are in fact ,indivisible. It all leaves me with the thought that perhaps we simply love, and often that love seems quantatative only because of language.
Thank you for sharing your story! I'm glad you had all those wonderful, loving years with ZuZu. And I'm so glad you have these unexpectedly beautiful years with your kitties! Yes, we all have our own love language--luckily, in the end, it's universal.
Because. They, as are we, are all different. And Every emotion, too, has its different level of intensity and duration. Anger, grief, joy. It is normal. No two alike. Just like snowflakes. Just like our favorite tree… There can be close in likeness, but no identical.
But that one life. The life that looks us in the eye and says that “ You are mine “. And then elicits the same response from us. There is nothing to be done for it. It is a bond that forever stands outside all others…forever.
Beautifully put! Nothing to be done for it...so true.
Deeply meaningful and beautiful. It does bring up the question of different depths of love. I was a wildlife rehabilitator and have had several disabled squirrels as family members. The second one I had was Wheezer, he deeply slipped right to my heart. He had an accident at age three and passed. He was my soul mate. I can't explain why. To this day I can cry thinking of his passing (It has been 17 years!). I have had three squirrels since Wheezer, I loved them all, but not like Wheezer. Sometimes I wonder if these animals were with us in pass lives.....who knows? :)
Oh, Ann, I'm so sorry about Wheezer! I've struck up friendships with the squirrels who live in my back garden. I was very close to one in particular. This summer s/he had squirrel pox (I didn't previously know this was a thing...so horrible) and died. My heart will never be the same. I completely understand crying many years later. I so admire the work you did as a rehabilitator. And, yes, I do believe we've often known them in past lives!
Thanks for the lovely article about he deep love of companion animals. I'm sure many, if not most, people have favorite animals or children, but people don't talk about that. It's great that you've shared your thoughts and experiences.
I agree, Caryn. I so appreciated Zoe's open discussion of this.
Thank you Caryn. I appreciate you saying this.
I was so moved by your description of Elsie. I had to put down my phone and give my cat a hug.
Oooooh, that's beautiful! Cat hugging is the best...even if they're not always crazy about it. Haha.
She definitely wasn't crazy about it! But she's snuggled on my lap snoring as I write this comment, so I guess she's forgiven me.
Cat snoring is also the best! And a most definite sign of forgiveness.
Oh, I love that.
I have only loved one dog, and at my age won’t have the chance to love many more. So Zoe’s reflections on dogs got me thinking about humans--specifically my sister and me, loved in very different ways by our mother. My sister struck more notes than I did on the scale of maternal emotion. This wasn’t okay to young me, but my perspective has changed. What we call “love,” as if it were a unitary thing, takes many forms. Thank you, Zoe, for your insight, and Jane for publishing it here.
Thank you for these insights, Rona. This is something I, too, have been pondering in recent years, but I'm not sure I've made quite the progress you have! But you've given me much to think about.
I'm starting to write about this. To write is to think.
Thank you for sharing this Rona. I so appreciate how over time your perspective has changed.
If we loved equally, from where would our stories come? Fifteen years into fostering and foster failing, I can share stories of each animal that has graced our home. I grieved every loss to an adopter or to the end of life. Nothing compares to the extent of my first love, Snuka. I feel your pain and know the extent of your love. Beautifully written.
How wonderful that you foster, Cindy! Such a gift you offer these precious babies and the world. And I'm so glad you enjoyed Zoe's piece.
My heart cries and smiles with you. Thank you.
Judith
I'm glad the essay moved you, Judith. It's a beautiful piece.
Thank you so much!
Death is what make life so valuable. Sad but true.
I lost my 9 yo dog Buddy last summer while recovering from cancer and my subsequent stem cell transplant. It was difficult, but I was helped by my contemplation of death in the 10 months prior to Buddy's death.
There is only the present, you cannot control the past at all, and you can only prepare for what you expect the future to bring. I am comforted by my family, my wife and my two dogs I have left Poppy, and Honey Dog.
Oh, Richard, I'm so sorry to hear about Buddy. Especially as he left during such a vulnerable time for you. I'm glad you have your family and Poppy and Honey Dog (love the all the names!). What would we do without our sweet babies?? And, yes, death is the most potent reminder to stay present. I hope your health continues to improve.
I'm so sorry Richard. And we both have Poppys in our life. I love that.