Showing posts with label death of a pet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death of a pet. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

"My Dolly Died"

Dear Susie,

Niva, four, told me her baby doll died the other day and I totally blanked and had no idea how to play back or reply so I told her maybe she's just in deep sleep and needs medicine. I knew it was wrong as it was coming out but was caught off guard! Our good friends' dog died about a week ago, and I think this might be related to the loss. 

Dear Parent,

Well, to begin with, Niva is right on target, developmentally.  Fours and fives usually become very interested in death and dying.  Have you noticed how toddlers seem to be so "in the moment?"  They really are!  No past, no future, just right now...how lovely, right? But once kids get to be Niva's age, they start thinking about things like the party last week and when their birthday will come. Time becomes more dimensional.  This naturally leads them to ask immense questions like "where did I come from?" and "where am I going?"

Your email touches on two really great points.  One is how to answer a hard question and the other is how to mend things when you don't like the answer you gave.

For some detailed ideas about talking to children about the death of a pet, please scroll back to my blog posts of February 20 and 28, 2014.
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The main thing is to let the child lead the conversation and give them small, true answers.  In a way, you and Niva were very lucky – it's so much easier to have this opening conversation when it's about someone else's pet.  That's pretty far removed from your family's life.  Niva will probably be most interested in "the facts of death," and it's much easier for you to share these things when you are not grieving yourself.

Her play with the baby doll is a wonderful example of how kids process things that puzzle or worry them – through play.  And to be honest, I think most parents would have reacted much as you did.  As prepared as we think we are, pronouncements liked hers often stun us and knock us off balance.  Here are some ways one might respond (and remember, I'm not in the trenches, here.  I'm sitting at my desk writing, there is no four-year-old at hand, and I've had time to process your question):

"Oh dear!  What does that mean, your baby died?"  A clarifying question like this buys you a little time to reflect. And her answer might help you understand what she knows and what she doesn't.  Then you can fill in some of the gaps.  Easy does it – small bits!

"I wonder if you're thinking about Tisha's dog.  What happened to him?"  This takes her back to her conversations with Tisha about the dog.  Again, there might be some gaps.

"It's sad when somebody's pet dies.  Would you like to make a picture of Boomer and tell Tisha how sorry we are that he died?"  This might prompt a little empathy for what her friend is going through. And it's a wonderful opportunity to begin teaching Niva how we take care of our friends when they're sad. 

Now let's turn to your worry that you didn't respond as you would have liked.  (By the way, I love what you said about "play back" and "reply."  If only!)  One great thing about our kids is that they live with us and we have nearly constant access to them.  That means we are afforded just about infinite opportunities for a do-over.  A do-over might look like this:

"Y'know, you said something so interesting yesterday and it really got me thinking..."
or
"Niva, you asked me a question yesterday and I was really busy and didn't have time to give you a good answer..."
or
"Sweetie, yesterday you asked me _______________ and I said ______________ and I don't really like that answer.  Would you like to hear a better one?"

See what I mean?  You can return with a more thoughtful, fleshed-out response, as well as perhaps a picture book or two on the subject.  The conversation with your child about death and dying will be a long one that will last years.  Your openness and availability on this (or any) tender topic will keep the door of communication standing ajar.

Hope this helps!  Best, Susie

Thursday, February 20, 2014

The Death of a Pet

Dear Susie,
Our dog died last night. My sons are just five and 2 ½. This is going to be such a hard conversation! I'd appreciate any thoughts you can share.

Dear Parent,
I'm so sorry! We always had a houseful of pets and I loved each and every one of them. This never gets easier, does it?

As with any  "tender topic," I think the best rule of thumb is to say the smallest true thing you can.  Your child's questions will lead the rest of the way.  You can start with, "Something very sad has happened in our family.  You know that Muffy lived a long, long time. [I sure hope this is the case.  If not, modify. I'll talk more about this in my next post.] She had a wonderful, happy, doggy life. She got very old and finally her body stopped working and she died.  I'm going to miss her so much."

Then let the questions come.  Try to answer them simply and honestly.  Please try not to worry that you may cry during this talk. The topic is sad – and your sadness, though a little upsetting, will make sense to your kids. Crying gives them permission to grieve too. Faking a stoic attitude would create a mismatch between your words and your demeanor.  This would be awkward for both you and your kids. To a certain extent, you will all be comforting one another, which is part of family life and family love. Your child's mirror neurons (related to empathy) will be firing like crazy. That's how we learn to care about, and care for, each other.

Your younger child may be a little baffled by everything about this conversation. For him, the biggest challenge will probably be to grasp the permanence of death. He may ask for Muffy a lot in the coming days. It could take weeks for him to understand that Muffy's not coming back. Your five-year-old may already have an understanding of death as permanent. He could be comforted by starting a little “memory book” of pictures and recollections that you can all contribute to, over time.

I'm a big believer in pet funerals. Doing something simple but ceremonial at home honors life and seals a memory. Let the kids help plan and carry out the funeral or memorial. When I was a little girl, we buried them under my favorite tree, right near my swing. I followed suit with my own kids. (Please don't flush Swimmy down the toilet! It's a clean and practical thing to do, but think of the message it sends.)

Questions may come fast and furious, or very gradually. What kinds of questions might your older one ask? We as adults tend to get past the nuts and bolts of burying or cremating a pet and focus on how sad we are. But for a four- or five-year-old, often the emphasis is on “the science of death.” Is Muffy asleep? Can she feel her body? Is she thinking? I would never liken death to sleep (this can be scary) but sometimes kids who see a dead animal wonder if it's sleeping. If, and only if, your child expresses curiosity about this, point out that death is not at all like sleep. When Muffy was alive, she was doing a lot of things while she slept – her lungs were breathing, her heart was beating, her brain was dreaming, her stomach was digesting food. Now none of those things is happening because her body has stopped working. (A solid understanding of this makes the idea of cremation or burial a lot less upsetting.)

Parents have sometimes told me they didn't want to have small pets such as goldfish or hamsters “because they die.” I would argue that this is one very good reason to have them! Experiencing the life cycle on a manageable scale informs and steels your child for the profounder losses that will follow throughout life. Without suffering loss, a child cannot learn that loss is survivable. Maybe I should state that another way: suffering a loss will teach your child that it's survivable.