Barley, originally uploaded by Aldon.

One of my great psychological defenses is the ability to intellectualize difficult emotional states, and perhaps that is a good way of understanding the title of this blog post.

For the past few days, I have been woken many times at night by the yelps of Barley, our aging chocolate Labrador. She had gotten to the point where she needed help standing up or walking and I would help her go outside or find a different place in the house to rest at all hours of the day and night. I’m pretty tired.

It has been even more difficult for my wife, Kim. Barley was her first baby and Barley was beside her as she went through some of the most difficult times of her life. Barley was also there at some of the most special moments, like when Kim and I first met or when Kim discovered that she was expecting.

Zoonotic refers to a disease that can be transmitted from other vertebrate animals to humans, and zoonotic empathetic hypochondria is a fancy way to describe being worried sick about an animal. Kim was worried sick about Barley. We tried some new medications to see if there were things that would help her feel better and get back on her feet. We had been through this several weeks ago, and Barley made a surprising recovery. Like the previous time, my wife feared that we would be saying farewell to Barley soon.

So, was it zoonotic empathetic hypochondria or was it anticipatory grief? How much longer could we help Barley live a quality life? We found the answer this evening.

The vet checked out Barley. Barley clearly was in pain and the vet suggested we could try some different pain killers. However, she also suggested we might want to Xray Barley to get a better sense of the source of her pain. It could be some sort of soft tissue strain that with some other pain killers and careful attention to her physical needs, we could help her through this time and give her some more quality time. On the other hand, it could be a bone tumor, which would mean there would be little chance for alleviating Barley’s pain.

Despite being old, arthritic and recovering from Lyme disease, Barley was still in fairly good shape, which meant she was also fairly heavy. I carried her to the Xray room. Kim and I walked back to the examination room and waited. Soon the vet walked in with the Xray. Yes, besides some significant arthritis, Barley had a bone tumor. We talked about what this meant and agreed that we needed to end her pain. We signed appropriate forms and the vet gave her a pain killer, and then a strong sedative. Unfortunately, there were no strong sedatives for Kim or I.

Barley no longer feels pain. My wife, my daughter, and various friends and family feel a different pain, the pain of knowing it will be a long time before we are reunited with a well loved dog.

Lady Chocolate Barley Malt, commonly called Barley lived a great life. At dinner, where Kim and I took a more conventional sedative in the form of a stiff drink, we recounted stories of when Barley stole a lobster from a caterer’s truck at a wedding, of how she would bark at horseshoe crabs, of how she was always there to comfort Kim during the most difficult times, similar to how Kim had sat on the floor at the vet’s office and comforted Barley during her last moments on earth.

Yeah, I can use big words and a little humor to help me get through times of grief, but now the anticipatory grief has turned to mourning. Rest In Peace, Barley.