Last week I had to have my pet (a dog) that had lived with me for 13 years put down.

He had severe cancer in his right hind leg. The pain, as well as just getting up and down, became too much for him.

My wife and I agreed that we were going to have the vet come to our home so that our dog could die with dignity, surrounded by those who cared for him, and in his favorite spot in the house.

The vet was kind, caring and understanding of the raw emotion that was being displayed by those of us present.

After the vet gave him his first shot, which began to numb his body and to help him to disassociate from his pain, and we petted and stroked him. We told him what a great dog he was, and we cooed sweet nothings in his ear. Even though he was drugged, we could tell he was aware of us and of our love of him.

We continued to pet him as the vet administered the final shots to assist his passing, all the while petting him. After 2 or 3 minutes, the vet checked his heart with her stethoscope. She said simply, “ He has passed.”

Serenity Prevails

Death was quiet and unobtrusive, in the sense that we were petting the dog, feeling his warmth and his life. Death crept in and took him. We had no idea of the exact moment of his passing. He was still warm, and his eyes were still open.

Needless to say his passing and the act of love that we provided to him by assisting him to die with dignity, created a whole range of conflicting thoughts and emotions for us.

Strongly in the forefront of my mind was old age, the passing of my parents, my wife’s parents, and the fact that my wife and I were also on this planet only for a finite time.

As I grew I watched my parents grow old. I was present at their passing. My wife was present at her mother’s passing. Both of us have brothers, like us, moving into their late 50s and early 60s, where we recognize and, more importantly, accept that our youth has passed, that we have fewer years to live than we have already lived.

We all think we will live forever, especially when we are young. Health problems other infirmities associated with old age will pass us by. We will live forever.

Losing a family pet is as traumatic as losing a human loved one. We don’t want to believe that.

But, it is true.

We looked at the period of time that our pet was with us, all he had shared with us, the laughter, the joy and some of the frustrations of pet ownership, all that has happened to us since we first received our pet.

We were amazed at how much time had actually passed.

Thirteen years seemed like the blink of an eye. Worse, as we grow older, the days seem like hours, the weeks like days, the months and years totally meaningless.

Growing older, we tire more easily. We put things off from today until tomorrow. We make excuses for not doing things, remembering the energy we had when we were young.

Of course we understand, that as we grow, our bodies change and our ability to do the things we used to do changes. We adapt to our aging bodies and the changes in lifestyle that we must make to accommodate the aches and pains that may plague us.

Hypnotherapy helps in many ways, assisting us both mentally and physically to understand the changes and help us mentally tune in to what we are still able to do and want to do.

Hypnotherapy helps us to maintain a positive, focused attitude, to continue to enjoy what make us happy, successful and prosperous.

Meantime, let me offer suggestions that may be new to you.

Relax.

Think less of what you want but how to give others what they want and, in turn, your rewards will come.

Live each day to the fullest. Accomplish as much as you are able. Plan to make the next day as fulfilling as the last.

Live memories. Learn from them. Devise newer, more pleasant ones. Share them with those who want to share with you.

A clinical hypnotherapist, handwriting analyst and certified master hypnotist, Nicholas Pollak may be contacted at nickpollak@hypnotherapy4you.net