When My Own Animals Die

April 22, 2012 by  
Filed under Animal Communication, New Posts

 

Guest Blogger Morgine Jurdan

I‘m delighted to share with you the perspective of Morgine Jurdan,
an Animal Communicator colleague of mine.

All professional Animal Communicators have to face and
work through the passing of their own animals.

In each instance, we bring to our own situation our very best efforts to
assist the animal and to handle our own grief.

In answer to your inquiry regarding how I personally deal with my own animals dying…

I spend time telling my animal friend the various ways I have appreciated having them in my life and the lessons I lave learned, so when they pass on, I have no doubt they know how much I have loved and appreciated them. Sometimes I create a book with photos and stories as I remember them.

My daughter’s dog Chetwin was at home when his time came and he needed assistance. He wanted to see some people in his life, including our daughter who was teaching at a camp about 3 1/2 hours away. So I put a beautiful blue bow he wanted on his neck, and took him around to see these people and know he really appreciated it.

Chetwin had been very ill and he wanted assistance and it was early spring and I took a nice blanket and we sat out in nature in the sun and I lit some rainbow candles and talked again how much he helped changed our family’s life at the vet’s office. Our vet gave him an anesthetic and he relaxed. She came to check and said he was ready and she would be back in a couple minutes.

After she left, a bee appeared buzzing around his head and he appeared totally under the influence of the drugs and asleep. It was too early for bees and I was surprised and told the bee he or she was very lucky. This was Chetwin’s last day and he was an expert bee catcher. In fact, we always worried he would be stung, but could never get him to stop biting at them. At that moment, Chetwin opened his eyes and caught the bee!! I will never forget that moment ever. I KNEW right then, the bee had appeared so Chetwin could have that Last Wonderful memory of his physical life!! It was so magical I just cried.

Morgine's dog, Rowan

When I adopted Rowan, a Sheltie, he had bent legs from poor feeding. Many years later, he suddenly could no longer get up and walk and told me he did not want to live this way. He wanted to pass on his own and did so, not eating or drinking for 10 days. I had him on several blankets and then plastic and towels under him which I would change a few times a day.

I knew Rowan was not afraid of death. I know he would live forever and I could communicate with him as I have my other animals. I asked Rowan what he wanted and how could I support him through his process. If feelings come up, I sometimes journal or meditate with the Divine and ask questions and let go, and answers would come in some form, either I hear it or someone says something or I read something.

I had been with him every day and the last day, Jerry and I had to leave for 2 hours to sign some legal papers and left him outside on all his blankets under to deck roof. It was raining lightly and birds were singing and Rowan loved standing in the rain, so we thought he would enjoy hearing it. I told him we would be back soon.

When we returned, I wish I had taken a picture!! It was if a Groomer had come while we were gone and combed his hair back. It was perfectly combed, I kid you not!! All swept back, his tail up in the air and his front paws stretched up like he was taking off for the sky!! He passed while we were gone and we had NO doubt it was a blissful passing.

I strive to live “in the moment” when my animals time comes near, the way they do. I know the time is precious and so when they ask, I stop and spend time with them. Often they want to be left alone for periods as well. I sing, play music, cry, meditate and follow my inner guidance.

I hope this answers some of your questions…

Hugs,
Morgine

Wild Organic Wisdom ~ Nature Calling Us Home

http://CommunicationsWithLove.com
http://PeacefulPetPassing.com
http://NaturesNewsToday.com
http://FindALostPetResources.com
http://MorgineJurdan.com
http://liveaslove.com

Comments

One Response to “When My Own Animals Die”
  1. brigitte says:

    Thank you for sharing! I had an incredible experience with one of my dogs’ passing which cemented my understanding of their and our spiritual nature. To this day i get weepy when i think of it, not because of grief, but for pure joy. Please allow me to share.

    Céilí, an Anatolian Shepherd, joined my canine family at eight weeks old, but I first met her at four weeks old. We’d gone to look at a litter of pups, and she kept climbing in my lap. She “picked me out of the litter” LOL! She was a wild child as a puppy (aka, Devilchild), too rambunctious to be a good livestock guardian, and we had our challenges along the way. She became a house dog when we moved six years ago. By then, she had settled down and become a more quiet presence. Our relationship grew deep over the years, but never had the intensity of the one with the chessie mix who crossed over three years ago (and came back into my life as another Anatolian!), whose passing again left me devastated and depressed.

    Last March, at a canine massage workshop, I felt a lump in her shoulder, but couldn’t find it again when at the vet’s a couple weeks later. Soon, she became noticeably stiff, mainly in the rear, and started limping slightly on the left rear leg — not surprising at age eleven. Chiropractic helped some. Then she went lame on the left front leg (where I had previously found the lump). Thinking Lyme (again), she was put on Doxy, but didn’t respond this time. Rimadyl did help for a while, and while the front leg improved, the left rear was failing fast. This was in July, and soon the bone cancer became quite apparent. Yet, through two different animal communicators, she insisted that assistance to cross was not needed nor desired, that she still had a job to do, that she wanted to give ALL that she could give.

    And what gifts they were! As I watched her deteriorate and in obvious pain (and often questioned my sanity for letting her go through this), she again insisted she would need no help, that “she” was not in pain. I learned how she (and most animals) can separate from the body’s experiences far better than we can (they’re not as “stuck” in the physical as we are).

    That last night, my partner was staying with her. At one point, he woke up with her propped on her elbows, smiling, and “looking like a puppy again.” Then she drank water, and started thrashing so much that he woke me up to come help. She calmed down some; I gave her some ice cream (her favorite!) and some pain pills, which calmed her a little more. But even then, it was like she was “pushing out”, like labor pains, but her effort to leave her body. I lay beside her, her head resting on my arm. I dozed off, still aware of her whiny, raspy breathing. Then, a couple little gasps. I was wide awake immediately. She looked at me, another little gasp, and she was gone. Just like that.

    Words can’t describe the amazing feeling that came with that. All her love and trust, the honor and privilege of being there with her during that moment. And even though I had been aware of her goodbyes to various people and places over the last couple of months, the full power of her deliberate creation and the Knowing that went into it, didn’t really hit until the final moment. The profoundness of it, the awe I felt (and still do), transcends any sadness over her “loss.” I am forever grateful to her for this most amazing experience!