The Kindness of Strangers Was Right Next Door
By: Paul Gilbert
Tags: Covid 19, Kindness, Dogs, Holidays, Mourning

Despite the Pandemic, I Wasn’t Alone in My Mourning

A death in the immediate family is unbearably painful and during the holidays, even more excruciating. We recently lost a child and because of the pandemic, have been grieving alone in our home. The fact that Layla was a Golden Retriever didn’t change the intensity of our sorrow and suffering. While some may say losing a pet doesn’t compare to the horror of the more than 300,000 fatalities due to COVID, we all mourn the loss of those we love the most.

Layla’s departure left an enormous hole in the house and our hearts at a time when we needed her never-ending joyfulness, compassion and affection more than ever. Yet in the aftermath of her passing, we were also blessed with a silver, or in this case, golden, lining in our very dark cloud. As I floundered around in my grief, desperately missing the intimate physical, emotional and spirit relationship with this innately loving creature, an idea came to me. While it seemed a little strange on some levels, I decided to step outside my discomfort zone.

I put an ad up on Next Door, our neighborhood online bulletin board, with the headline Grieving Family Needs Canine Healing. Attaching a picture of Layla, I said I’d love to take your dog for a walk or just play in the yard, assuring readers that I’ve been practicing strict safety measures. I also mentioned that I would be particularly interested in meeting other Golden Retrievers because while I like almost all dogs, once you’ve had a Golden, you gain lifetime membership to a club where you naturally gravitate to fellow devotees.

Within minutes of my posting, I started getting responses. Some were simply Likes or emojis, but then, the comments started rolling in, a stream that soon turned into a flood. There were expressions of sympathy, stories of people’s own losses and recommendations for adoption. Many included photos of their own pets, two sent beautiful poems, one included a link to an online pet grief support group. I even got a message from a local police department to visit with their official comfort dog. Best summons I’ve ever received.

Over the following week, I received 420 responses, including 140 comments. I was simply overwhelmed by this outpouring of empathy. But the most surprising part was the number of invitations to walk and play with other people’s dogs. 25 previously unknown neighbors welcomed me to come meet their pups, 15 of them Golden Retrievers. How could complete strangers be so generous during a health crisis, when we’re so focused on our own well-being?

As the offers kept rolling in, I realized I’d struck a rich vein of humanity at a time when we genuinely need more personal connection. While all of us want to feel loved, I believe we have an equally primal need to give love, and dogs bless us with abundant opportunities to express our devotion. Every dog owner knows the rewards of this gift that never stops giving and getting.

I work from home, so I saw Layla all day, every day, and I rarely passed her without stopping to rub her soft head, neck, back or belly, feeling a gentle jolt of loving energy move up my arm and into my heart and brain. Over our twelve years of heavy petting sessions, I can honestly say that I relished every single stroke. People always talk about the tenderness, non-judgement and unconditional love they receive from their dogs, but I also know that Layla continually called forth these same qualities in me. I think the reason people responded so viscerally to my ad was because it enabled them to share their best friends and best selves.

Two weeks after my post ran, I began arranging play times. It was almost like a Tinder app, where I kept swiping right for my next candidate. I’m now up to six dates, ages 10 weeks to 11 years. And talk about magic-after a few minutes of sitting together with the police dog, Blue, he suddenly put his front legs on my shoulders to give me a hug. I would have started crying if I weren’t smiling so hard underneath my mask. Somehow, he just knew.

Under California’s stay at home orders, we’re only supposed to go out for groceries, prescriptions and outdoor exercise. The get-togethers with my new furry buddies fit all these criteria: food for my soul, strong medicine and sharing nature, my happy place and theirs. Although my heart still aches, I’m also filled with gratitude — both for my cherished friendship with Layla, and the unexpected kindness of so many strangers. And the bonus lesson from this wondrous experience: they were right next door all this time.