When Otis passed away, I was devastated and completely lost. He was a healthy, 10-year-old dog one day, and the next day I was told that he needed his ruptured spleen removed, and that he had 1-3 months to live. Hemangiosarcoma stole the love of my life right before my very eyes. I was blindsided.

Coping Failures

I cried every day, all day. I couldn’t get out of bed. I gave away most of Otis’s things to friends who had dogs, and then I quickly asked for everything back. I needed everything to be the same. I needed to feel like he was still here. I turned my house into an Otis museum—pictures adorned every wall. My refrigerator looked like an oversized gift, wrapped tightly with Otis photos.

I didn’t know how to cope. I felt sad and angry and envious and critical. I didn’t feel like anyone understood. He wasn’t just a dog. He was my son, my companion, my soulmate. And he was ripped away from me. Without warning. I didn’t want to get another dog. I didn’t want to take a walk or go shopping or see people or their thriving dogs. I didn’t care if I was losing relationships. Anything that anybody said to me or did for me was the wrong thing to say or do. I didn’t want to move on.

The only solace I had was sweating in a sauna at 129 degrees and staring at a picture of Otis. But, I could only do that for so long, so I tried listening to meditations and podcasts, reading books, and watching videos on the afterlife, reincarnation, and grief. These piqued my interest and gave me temporary comfort, but that soon passed, and I was back to sitting with a box of Kleenex. And two glasses of red wine. 

Being Stuck

Otis was all I could think about. He was all I could talk about. He was all that I wanted to think about and talk about. But, when I thought about him or talked about him, I would break down and cry. I started wearing glasses, because my contact lenses couldn’t handle all of my tears. I had to go to the dermatologist, because I had a rash under my eye from crying so much. My body felt swollen, and I would physically shake when sitting perfectly still.

It took every ounce of my strength not to cry in public. I couldn’t go to the grocery store because I would have to walk past the meat section, the cottage cheese case, and the frozen vegetable aisle. Otis loved his homemade food. I couldn’t go running because I couldn’t see through the tears that were streaming faster than my strides. Otis should be running next to me. I couldn’t even go to my parents’ house because he always went with me. Otis got so excited for Grandma’s bacon. Everything reminded me of him. Everything reminded me of Otis.

Seeking Help

I was too mentally incapacitated to seek help, and when I finally did, I was put on a waitlist because of Covid and the demand for therapists. And when it was finally my turn in line to tell my story, the therapist no longer accepted my insurance provider. 

Overwhelmed, I tried animal communicators, but the readings were so varied, that I ended up feeling even more confused. Then a friend said, “Why don’t you try talking to him yourself?”

I did talk to him. Every day. But, that was more conversational, like “Good morning, Otis! Good morning, My Love! How are you doing this morning? Did you sleep good?” Or “Goodnight, Oatsie! Mama loves you the most.” But, there were specific questions that I wanted answered, like Where are you? What gave you the cancer? Could I have saved you? Do you miss me? Will you reincarnate back to me? I was looking for someone to answer these questions for me. I needed someone to answer these questions for me…

Helping Myself

Then it dawned on me that I could answer these questions for me. That the answers were inside of me! If we all have intuition, then why wouldn’t we all have the ability to connect with the spirits of loved ones? And why would my soulmate be more apt to talking with a stranger than with me? That didn’t make sense.

So, one day when I was sitting in a sauna staring at a picture of Otis, I thought, I wonder if there is a meditation that could guide me, so I could talk with Otis. I Googled and YouTube searched for an hour. I scoured the internet and found nothing. So, very unnaturally, I made one myself.

Pet Loss Meditation

Never in a million years would I have thought that I would be writing a meditation, but never in a million years would I have thought that my soulmate would succumb to cancer at a young and healthy 10-years-old. Everything is interconnected.

In truth, I didn’t design this meditation. Otis did. And he didn’t just make this meditation for me. He made it for you, too. While moving through this horrendous period of loss and grief, I realized that there are millions of people feeling the same way as I am. We all grieve differently, but we all grieve the same.

I hope that this meditation will help to heal you, like it helped to heal me. I hope that it will help to empower you, like it helped to empower me. But mostly, I hope that it will help you to connect with the spirit of your beloved animal, like it helped me to connect with Otis.

Thank you, Otis. This is your gift to the world.