Junebug Habibi — A Grief Reflection

Content Note (grief): the below post references the loss of a pet.

Prefer to listen? Click here to listen to audio version.

Last week, I took a walk, the same walk I have been taking for almost a year, but that day, it felt so so very different.

We moved about a year ago, and the hiking trails I’ve been exploring this last year have been quite different from the ones near my old home. But the scenes have a few things in common. I can see mountains, I can be in nature, and most of all, if I walk long enough, there is a beautiful lookout point. And in all of my walks, I had a companion. My black standard poodle, named Junebug. 

Until last week. Junebug passed away last Sunday.

My wife and I adopted Junebug nine and a half years ago; she was eight months at the time. 

In November 2022, she was diagnosed with a heart condition. the Cardiologist gave her six months to a year to live, her veterinarian said she might only have three months. We started her on medication, which made her pee a lot, so in addition to taking her for a walk every three hours, we bought her washable diapers to wear.

The doctor told us that she would slow down; she would not be able to run off lead; she would have a hard time walking upstairs. And so for the past three years, we’ve been preparing for that. But that did not happen. 

On Sunday morning, we took a walk and she ran in the woods as if nothing was wrong. We then took a drive, and we think she had a massive heart attack in the car. I was sitting right by her side. We were both there. She passed away with no pain, she was ready. 

It was the best possible ending, and I am so grateful that we were both there, that she did not suffer, that she ran off the lead until the very end. And yet, as I walk the same path we took so many times before, my heart breaks.

How is it possible for me to be so so grateful for the way it ended and be so so heartbroken that she is no longer with us?

I never had a pet growing up. In the chassidish community I grew up in, pets were frowned upon and besides there were too many children running around so, no dogs, no cats allowed. I remember my children begging me for a dog when I left the chassidish community, but I couldn’t do it. Being a single parent of three kids was enough. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed or to take care of.

My children grew up, my partner and I moved in together. She had always had pets, multiple dogs and cats at a time. I didn’t want to have anything to do with that, especially since I have really bad allergies. For the first few years, she would connect with her ex and walk their dogs that lived with him in their old house. As the years passed and the last of her animals passed away, she asked for us to at least get a dog. I said yes. One that was hyper allergenic and one big enough to run while I was in the woods. 

And so, Junebug entered our lives. Junebug saved me in many ways. We adopted her in 2016 and that was the year I was doing intense work at Footsteps. 

I would come home after a 12-hour day, go to the backyard, and throw the ball with her. There was something about playing fetch with her, her running after the ball and bringing it back to me again and again. It allowed my body to release the tension of the day and connect with the joy of play. She also had the kind of energy that demanded me to be fully present with her. And so I was. And the day melted away from me. 

In 2020 as my practice moved online, she rarely visited my office. She was more than happy to hang out with my mother-in-law while I was working. But after my mother-in-law passed away in 2022, she began attending certain client sessions. It was only in the past year or two that I began noticing a pattern. It wasn’t the time of the day or the day of the week, even if clients changed their time, Junebug would come into my office when the client entered the virtual waiting room. It was all over the computer, so it was fascinating to me to watch this. I thought you couldn’t feel energy virtually, but she knew and she came. 

To me, it had no rhyme or reason who she decided to show up for. But it was consistent in terms of which clients she showed up for. The only time she wasn’t already in the office or asked to leave in the middle of a session was if we had guests in the house. They usually took precedence over the client on the screen. 

She also loved my prayer group and was happy to just sit in the coach while I was working and or praying. 

And so the void she left in her dying is really big.

I have a client who takes care of her grandchildren when the parents travel. She told me that she tells them, it is possible to be so so happy to be here with grandma and so so sad that their parents are not there and they miss them. 

We all hold so many different emotions at the same time, sometimes they are even completely opposite emotions. Often there are many different emotions about the same things. It's possible and it’s real and our heart is big enough to hold all of it. 

As I grieve for my wonderful companion, I’m grateful for the extra time we had with her after her diagnoses. I am beyond thankful for the way she chose to go without pain and without us needing to make a decision. I also hold a myriad of feelings about my relationship with her. The care she needed, the joy she was, the menace to society my kids called her (she always tried to steal bread or challah from anyone). The many, many ways she brought joy into our lives and the incredible void she leaves behind. In our home, in our lives, and in my day to day schedule. 

I know my heart is big enough to hold it all. 

I invite you to notice one thing in your life that brings up many different emotions and to notice how you can give yourself the space and time to be with all of it. Even if it might feel like a lot, you do have the capacity to hold it all.

Many many blessings,
Chani

About the Author

Chani Getter, LCSW, is a therapist, public speaker, and interfaith minister. They are the author of Mapito: Embrace Yourself, praised by Kirkus as “a kind and inclusive guide to becoming your most authentic self.” Chani’s life and work have been featured in two documentary films and in numerous news outlets.

To book Chani as a speaker for your event or institution, please visit the contact page on chanigetter.com.

To request a private therapy or counseling appointment, email Chani.

To learn or practice cultivating joy, join Chani's Slow Down Challenge.

Support the Author

You can support Chani by buying their debut book, Mapito: Embrace Yourself, and leaving a book review on Amazon or Goodreads. You can also make a donation, which helps Chani support people of all income levels. Thank you for reading!