Typist: Bethany When a friend suggested we take Crystal Mountain's scenic gondola in the summer, Jason and I chuckled about having only ever been to Crystal Mountain in the winter to ski. Upon finding out that leashed dogs are allowed on the gondola, I knew we needed to go. Of course, we waited until the last weekend of the summer season to ride and it was mostly cloudy with scattered showers that turned into a downpour. But even in the rain, this was a great dog-friendly adventure. The gondola operator was very kind and helped us into a less crowded gondola that he had slowed down to help the dogs ease onto it. With a lot of treats and encouragement, we got Wilhelm, Brychwyn and Huxley all onto the car. Once we were safely away from the platform, the dogs started to enjoy themselves. Granted, they were getting lots and lots of treats, but they were also appreciating the view and the attention from the friendly people we rode up with.
The dogs didn't enjoy the gondola ride as much when there was zero visibility. As soon as we got below the clouds on our ride down, Wilhelm, Brychwyn and Huxley all went to the windows to watch the trees go by. If it hadn't been raining buckets at this time, we would have been able to enjoy one of Crystal Mountains dog-friendly dining patios. Yet another reason we will be back to do another gondola ride next summer and perhaps for some snowshoeing this winter. We definitely learned that the weather can't make this trip bad. Crystal Mountain's gondola is a fantastic adventure for humans and for canines, rain or shine. 'No, no! The adventures first,' said the Gryphon in an impatient tone: 'explanations take such a dreadful time.' -Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Caroll Typist: Bethany Gryphon has been gone for almost two weeks and I just realized that I really miss him. I know that sounds crazy but, as a friend so eloquently told me last week, "Grief is strange." Since November of 2009, when Emily passed away quietly in her sleep, we have mourned the loss of several pets who were with us for a decade or more, Emily, Tynan, Bobbie Birdie and now Gryphon. And just like how all of those pets had very original personalities, lived different lives and had dissimilar deaths, grieving their loss has been unique as well. With Gryphon, it was hard for me to admit that I really, truly miss him.
So why was this so hard to admit? Because it feels selfish. Gryphon was old and hated being old. Gryphon was ill and getting sicker. Gryphon was ready to leave and move on. I am glad he did. But I am also miserable. I don't really wish he was still alive so how can I miss him? Then I remember that there is no rhyme or reason to mourning. If you search around there are five to seven stages of grief ranging from shock and denial, pain and guilt, anger and bargaining, depression and isolation, adjusting and functioning, reconstructing, acceptance and hope. Well written articles about these stages tell you to interpret them loosely and let you know that you will drift in and out of each stage randomly- they are not necessarily sequential. After all, grief is weird. The process of mourning is just as unique as each of us and as individual as the lost pet we are grieving. When you are mourning, especially with the loss of a pet, you will likely get all kinds of sympathies from friends and family. I have gained so, so much comfort and wisdom from conversations with loved ones over the last two weeks. But I have also gotten some "bad" advice. I put the word bad in quotes because I know the givers of the advice meant well, it was just advice that didn't necessarily reflect the individuality of how we each mourn in our own way. And I am sharing this with you so that if and when you ever need to mourn a pet, you can allow yourself to grieve in your own way, no matter what anyone else, including me, advises. It is okay to have contradictory thoughts and feelings while you are grieving. It is also okay to have perfectly organized and rational thoughts during times of sorrow. As I have spent time reflecting on the life of the pets I mourn, I remember that my thoughts were all over the place while they were alive too. Perhaps, similar to researching the stages of grief and reading about what other people go through, this makes the oddity of grieving feel a little more normal. Just a little. And missing Gryphon is normal. Yet I also walk by his grave each day and smile because he gets to be outside again like he so loved. I wish he was still alive but in his nine-year-old body. I occasionally sob then laugh... I am so lucky to have known him and to have had him spend over nineteen years with me however... wait. There is no argument with that. That was perfect. Except that it is over. Grief is strange. 'That's the reason they're called lessons,' the Gryphon remarked: 'because they lessen from day to day.' |
Cascadian Nomads
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