Finality and Saying Goodbye

Saying goodbye to your dog, especially your soul dog, is one of the hardest things one can do in this life. It’s a soul-crushing loss. So I don’t take it lightly when I am chosen to photograph your pet’s last moments, or moments while they’re still ok-ish after a devastating diagnosis. I feel the pain on a cellular level and I’ve gone through it myself. It’s life-altering and gut-punchy.

A dear client came to me last summer to photograph her pooch that had just been diagnosed with cancer. Five months later she reached out again for her other dog that was diagnosed with lymphoma. During this most recent session, the original dog from the summer was still alive. When our winter session happened, I naively thought this ‘new’ guy would be around in a couple months yet also. But he passed less than two weeks after our session and I’m still reeling. I thought he had more time.

When I get the news that they’ve crossed the rainbow bridge after our session, I cry and I feel that pain for days. I’m transported back to that day in my own experience. I wonder if you’re looking at the clock that first day without them, thinking how they were still here 24 hours ago. I wonder if you’ve left their food & water bowls out, if you’ve laid in their bed and sobbed uncontrollably, if you’ve not vacuumed the floors in ages in fear of sucking up all that’s left of them, if you sleep with one of their stuffed animals they used to carry around. Yes, I’ve done all of these things. I lost my favorite girl, Emmie Lou, almost a year ago and I still cry almost daily. So I truly get it. It’s why I try my hardest to really capture the relationship between you and your fur baby. Photos, and some of their things, are really all that’s left behind as proof that they were here, and they are (I refuse to say were; I believe they’re still with us somehow) so, so loved.

I always think “I thought he/she/they/we had more time.” Even with Em, especially with my dad who was only 67 when he ended his life. There is never enough time. Emmie was 3 months shy of 19 and it STILL wasn’t enough time. I don’t have human children but Emmie was my baby. 18.5 years of love and routine gone in an instant. It felt like I lost an entire part of me. I’m feeling all of the feels these days. I’m not sure if it’s because the one-year anniversary is approaching, or if my body is just remembering that a year ago it started to really sink in that my days with her were really numbered. And all of that is still stored inside of my body. Right after she passed, my mom sold our childhood home and it was gone in the blink of an eye. That home was Emmie’s favorite place on the planet so I am forever grateful that we got to spend her final months there. But I didn’t really get to process the magnitude of so many gigantic losses in such a short period of time. Leaving that house felt like leaving my dad, my Em and my childhood all behind. It’s a lesson that nothing is permanent in this life. Death is inevitable and inescapable. I wish it were talked about more so that it doesn’t blindside you when it happens. All that remains are the memories. The ones that live in your head and the ones you print out.

So today I’m sharing some of the memorial sessions I’ve had recently. These sessions are emotionally challenging and hard for me, but I know first-hand just how important they are. I’ve met some of the most amazing people from these sessions. They often turn into friends. These people are “my people” and we all have a shared love of our pets, and an invisible string connecting us through our grief. They’re not “just a dog” - they’re our family.

Me and my Emmie Lou, just 5 days before she crossed the rainbow bridge. A dear neighbor at my mom & dad’s house graciously took this for me with my camera and I’m so grateful that we live in a world where photographs exist.

Lucy the Great - Cavalier King Charles Memorial Session at AIDS Garden (Belmont Harbor, Chicago)

Lucy, oh sweet Lucy. I am so honored I was able to create these love-filled photos for Lucy and her mama at the beautiful AIDS Garden in Belmont Harbor. Gorgeous Lucy has since crossed the Rainbow Bridge but her mom got these photos in last fall while Lucy was still in good spirits. I have such a soft spot for these old pups, the sweetest souls.

When I say photography is all about relationships to me, this is what I mean. The bond between these two, as well as the love, is so evident and that’s all that matters to me. Photos of your dog on their own are great, of course & I’ll take those too, but make sure you’re in the photos as well.

You are so loved, sweet girl and I know your mama misses you so much. Until you meet again, I’m so glad she has these photos to cherish and hold onto along with all of the memories you made together.

Max the Great - End of Life Pet Session at Welles Park [Chicago] & Lessons on Grief

Max’s dad reached out to me to photograph his sweet Pug Chato, who didn’t have much time left here on this Earth. It took me two days to get back to him, because it wasn’t long after my own dad had left this Earth and I was (still am, rather) in the thick of heavy grief. By the time we spoke two days later, Chato the Pug was already gone :( I still regret not responding sooner.

He tells me he still wants to do photos with Chato’s brother Max, a 16-year old (16!) senior pooch. We schedule a time a few weeks out and wouldn’t you know the Universe had other (shitty) plans. Two days after scheduling, Max took a turn for the worse and wouldn’t make it to our session. I couldn’t believe it. This wonderful man was about to lose a second dog in a month. I re-arranged every possible thing I could to fit them in the very next day so I could be there for him this time.

Max’s dad, E, lost his mom just a few months before I lost my dad. We bonded over our losses. This session was full of lots of tears, hugs and so much love. I normally try to keep my emotions separate in these sessions, but with my own loss being so raw, and our bond plus my own sick pooch, I cried too. Especially on the way home. It was messy, beautiful and healing. E lost his mom and two of his best fur-friends in such a short period of time. My already-broken heart was even more broken for him. Life is so unfair and I wonder just how much we humans can take before breaking into a million pieces. They say “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” and while I agree to some extent, it’s a bullshit phrase to say to someone who has been through the worst events of their lives. Same with “everything happens for a reason.” I say F that. Never say that to someone who’s lost a fundamental love of their life. Human or pet. Also, a pet loss is JUST as substantial as a human loss. It’s never “just a dog/cat/bird/rabbit/etc.”

Love is love and grief is love.

Lessons - soak in every second with your animals. (And people.) Especially the seniors. Be grateful for every single second you get with them. Smother them with love. Don’t give any energy to anyone who says you’re spoiling “just” a dog. They’re not your people, anyway. I keep seeing this dog food commercial where people judge people who feed their dog nutritious food that’s kept in the fridge. At the end of the commercials, the criticizers are always kicked out of the house and the dog stays in. Live like that. Let anyone or anything go that doesn’t bring you joy, kindness or love. Life’s too short to be burdened by people that suck your precious energy and dim your light. Show up for the ones that matter. Especially the ones that have shown up for you in your darkest moments. My grief has made me so much more compassionate and aware of how I wasn’t there for people before, and to do better. I was there on the surface, but even as a highly-sensitive empath I never comprehended just how tremendously your world is shaken up with a loss that’s, to quote Taylor, “bigger than the whole sky.”

Important tip to help someone grieving- don’t ask what you can do to help. Just take action. Send them a meal, offer to walk their dog, watch their kids, ask if they need help with an errand or picking anything up while you’re out. Show up and do their dishes. Making any decision feels overwhelming when you’re in that deep grief and leaving the house when you can’t even find the energy to brush your teeth feels impossible. Send a card to let them know they’re thought of. Or a text. Hug them whenever you can. Keep checking in on them, especially months down the road when most people have gone back to their normal lives & forgotten yours is still a pile of rubble. Even if someone doesn’t have the bandwidth to reply, it’s incredibly supportive to know you’re not forgotten in the aftermath of the worst moments of your life. Don’t take it personally if they don’t respond for days, or at all. Grief can feel like a lonely island you’re on all by yourself if you’re not supported. It really takes a village.

Tips for grievers - Rest. A lot. As much as you can. Grief is exhausting in every sense. Take care of your body with healthy food. (Another tip for supporting grievers - comfort food is great, people, but when everyone shows up with donuts and sweets, it’s not great for a grieving body. I was so grateful when a friend brought a big green salad by!) Grief brain fog is real - you’ll forget everything. Your body is in survival mode. Cry, don’t push it away. You’ll realize some of the people you thought would be there, just can’t be for whatever reason, so you’ll grieve those relationships too. At the same time, literal strangers you meet on your path will be there for you in ways you wouldn’t have imagined. I believe these strangers are angels sent from your loved one. This is what Max’s dad is to me, an angel on Earth. We were meant to meet. Even if just to help heal our broken hearts.

I have so many more tips for new grievers but that’s really a whole separate post.

Sending love to you, especially if you know the pain of losing a parent, pet, partner, sibling, best friend, or anyone close to you. Grief is hard.

Max’s dog brother, Chato the pug, was with Max during his session via photograph. (Another not-so-subtle reminder to print your photos!)