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The Unexpected Face of Grief

Denise Flaim | Animal House

November 7, 2000

BLITZ WAS acting weird.

Since the day we got him, our dog had the perfect temperament: Friendly-even obnoxiously so-with strangers. Unfazed by loud noises or strange places. Just a happy-go- lucky, goofy, shmoopy boy.

Then, overnight, my year-old charmer started growling at people he had known since he was 8 weeks old: the cleaning lady, a teenage cousin visiting from out of town, familiar friends who had cuddled him only weeks before.

We struggled to figure out the common denominator: One woman owned ferrets, another had three cats-could he be reacting to the strange animal scent on their clothes? Was he going through a fear period? Brain tumor, maybe?

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Finally, we hit on the obvious: Two weeks earlier, we had put Roxy, our 16-year-old shepherd mix, to sleep. She had been the undisputed alpha dog-surveyor of strangers, barker at doorbells, arbiter of the unknown. And now she was...gone.

"In animals, the signs of grief are those that you might anticipate-loss of appetite, complete refusal to eat," says Barbara Meyers of Staten Island, who specializes in Bach flower therapy, which uses plant and flower essences to balance emotions in animals and people. "But there are less-classic side effects which represent the same thing - a radical change of mood, a mellow dog who becomes short- tempered or aggressive. Any change of behavior should be understood as grief."

If Blitz' weirdness seemed unrelated to Roxy's passing, Meyers suggests looking at how some humans process a life-altering loss. "Children express their grief differently than adults, and it is often not recognized or is misunderstood," she says. "Sometimes, after the death of a parent or any member of the family, children can often be found playing funeral in the backyard and are often scolded for it."

Larry Lachman, co-author of "Cats on the Counter" (St. Martin's Press, $21.95), says grieving in animals may last up to three years, with the most visible disruptions in the first 12 to 18 months. They include loss of appetite or overeating, chronic meowing or howling, searching for the person or sibling animal, spray-marking and self- mutilation. In cats, a sudden refusal to use the litter box and attacking owners or family members can also signal bereavement.

The reason animals can have such a protracted grieving process, says Lachman, is they are reminded of the loss almost daily. "The cat or dog will still smell the deceased's presence," he explains. "In the case of a cat that has died, its scent is in the carpet, and in the pads underneath the carpet. They smell it, but can't find it."

And Lachman cautions owners in multiple-pet households to prepare for behavioral turbulence as the hierarchy of the pack gets reordered.

"Lots of times, personalities will change,' he says. If, for example, a recently deceased dog was dominant, "then the submissive dog may start acting more assertively or start taking over some tendency of deceased dog."

This may happen even before the dog dies. "They'll know way ahead of the veterinary diagnosis," he says, referring to biochemical changes animals can sense long before humans notice symptoms. "There may be dog fights out of nowhere. The pack order will switch to keep peace. And once they work out the power structure, they're the best of buddies."

To help a pet through the grieving process, Meyers suggests an appropriate Bach flower remedy, such as star of Bethlehem (the homeopathic tinctures are available in health-food stores). And Lachman advises scheduling time each day to give the animal extra attention-"touch, training, field trips, a privilege or activity it didn't have when the other animal was around"-to help alleviate anxiety.

As for Blitz, he got over most of his weirdness a few months later, when a new alpha girl walked in the door. Even at eight weeks, Diva took charge with Roxy-like assurance, and Blitz retired in relief to the couch. Now, a year later, he's back to his usually sunny self, except for the handful of people he remembers from that confusing time. He still grumbles half-heartedly at the cleaning lady, and I've resigned myself to giving him the time he needs to work things through. It's good advice-and not just for dogs.

"People say to you, 'What's the big deal? It was just a dog.' It's invalidating," says Lachman. "People need to give themselves permission to grieve loss of a pet."