Hello forum,
first of all, I hope this is the correct section of the forum for this! Also, this is not my first language and I admit my English might not be up to the task of making this post. But I hope the ideas will be at least genuine enough to make up for the lack of form
Secondly, I know is going to be a long read, and I apologize for that! I like reading a lot, so that makes me a bit biased towards walls of text, but also I believe I have a lot to share Lastly, I write this for everyone who could maybe benefit from it or finding it interesting, but I fully disclose that I need to write this for me as well, so please be patient with the amount of text
For those who don't know me, me and my wife joined the forum after the passing of Nocciola (italian for hazelnut), our first piggie who was extraordinarily loved.
Last saturday, August 17th, was the first anniversary of that day. I went through a rough and long grieving process, that lasted at least 3 months in a very acute form, to then leave room for a more manageable form which carries on to this day.
As the anniversary was approaching, I looked back at the year that had passed and reflected on it. All the thoughts that came out, I wanted to put them in a post here, because I thought I finally had something to give back to the forum, perhaps to give some hope to someone who maybe would feel as I did a year ago. I had scheduled to make that post in the coming Bank Holiday weekend. The post I had in mind was mainly about how happy I ended up being with Chicco, the piggie we got after Nocciola passed, and how an unimaginable grief was the fertile ground on which, unexpectedly, a genuine happiness would grow. It turns out life has been unpredictable in a very mean way, and we lost Chicco yesterday, as some of you might have read here. So this will be a slightly different post to what I had originally intended, sadly.
Back to August 2018. We came to the forum at that terrible time looking for listeners, and for answers. We surely find the first, we found great people here that we even had the privilege to meet in person a few times. We probably found answers as well, but we did not know any better, and this is what I'd like this post to be about.
We had one, dominant question at the time, that could have been summed up like this: "will we ever love another pet the same way?".
The answer we got was "Yes, you will love another pet, and no, it won't be the same way. It will be different, and yet equally special". This did just not add up, in my head. I understand now that was because I wanted Nocciola back. With that not being possible, I could have settled only for a new pig who was the exact copy of her, same attitude, behaviour etc.
Long story short, I know now that that answer was true. I did love Chicco in a very special way, although he was obviously so much different from Nocciola , and although I was grieving so much that I did not see Chicco for what he really was for quite some time.
This post was meant to be about the journey through the year, and through the discovery that despite very strong grief, and despite feelings of disappointment and rejection towards the new pet at first, happiness was still possible and could come in the most unexpected shape and form, like the funny, uneven marks on Chicco's sweet, loving face.
I knew this already: Nocciola came to us shortly after the passing of our previous pet, a gorgeous Syrian Hamster who was especially dear to me and my wife, as she was the first pet we had while living together, and we had just moved abroad by ourselves, leaving behind many friends and family. That was the pet that gave a new meaning to the word home to us, quite literally.
I was in grief when we got Nocciola, to the point that I did not like her at first, and I kind of rejected her.
So the "miracle" that happened with Chicco was not anything new. Turns out the same happened with Nocciola as well. It just needed to be rediscovered.
Now Chicco is gone, I am heartbroken, and these words that I so wanted to share with the forum to give hope to people grieving for their beloved, special friends, somehow start to feel less believable. And I find myself asking the same old question, "will I ever love another pet the same way?". It's like it needs to be rediscovered once again. I wanted to come back to the forum to give some answers, and yet here I am, really looking for answers for myself. Is this natural? Will this cycle ever end? See, more questions.
Finally, I know this post is getting long, and a year is difficult to sum up in just a few words and key moments, but I'll try.
When we brought Chicco home from the Coseley Rescue where we got him from, I told my wife that I resented that decision. It was a tough day. I knew that Chicco could not possibly replace Nocciola. And that was totally ok because he didn't have to, but I did not know at the time. Honestly, the only good feeling I had came from the idea of having given him the possibility of a better life, but other than that I felt completely detached from him.
5 weeks after getting Chicco, I posted a message on the forum, the title was "What are we doing wrong", in which I basically asked how to improve the interaction between us and Chicco and Lenticchia. A few actually good ideas came out of the conversation, but I remember exactly the frustration that led to making that post, and I think the title says everything. Trying to replace Nocciola, that was what I was doing wrong.
Meanwhile, Chicco was being the sweetest gentle adventurer you'll ever see. He gradually got more accustomed to our presence, to the point when you could tell that he was actually starting to enjoy it (and not only because we were the food bearers!). He was excited at the thought of getting out of his cage and stay with us. He would chatter when we would come around, or when he heard our voice after a while (again, not just at dinner time!
) We can say now confidently that he really loved us, although differently from Nocciola. "It will be different, and yet equally special"...
His relationship with Lenticchia was also great, and seeing it grow everyday was part of the wonderful experience. Lenticchia, a very shy and skittish sweet lady, used to be completely dominated by Nocciola. In this new relationship, we saw her becoming the dominant piggie. That brought out almost a new Lenticchia to us, equally sweet, but more confident and more happy to spend time around us.
At some point during the year, I started to find myself quite happy at the idea of coming back home after work to Chicco and Lenticchia. Then I started to actually looking forward to it. Then I started to miss them when they were not around (holidays or days out etc). Then I realized that I actually loved the little guy. He was giving me so much, and I was giving so much to him. I was still grieving for Nocciola but hey, there was room for something else as well!
Until yesterday, when he peacefully passed. On his last night, I knew he was leaving us. I sat in front of the cage and I spoke softly to him for a long time, just so that he could hear a voice I knew he enjoyed and loved, in that time of distress. I put his need for comfort ahead of my need for protecting myself towards what I knew was coming, something I hadn't been able to do with Nocciola. I loved him and the only desire I felt was for him to not suffer. With Nocciola, my biggest desire was for her to stay with us at all costs. "It will be different, and yet equally special"...
Now Lenticchia is alone again, and we know from experience that she is not the kind of piggie who can go on happily without company. And this somehow makes me feel back at square one, being here asking you questions to which my experience already has the answers, but grief makes me forget them and maybe I will have to rediscover them again in time.
"Will I ever love another pet the same way?" "Will there ever be another piggie like Nocciola and Chicco?"
I would love to hear your thoughts on this, especially from the people here who are lucky enough to have been blessed with many piggies over many years, and have unfortunately said goodbye to many of them, and I'm sure they must have found themselves in this same cycle at some point. This is a hard time for me and for my wife who'll also read this post, and in these early days I know reading your thoughts or stories, or simply contributing to this conversation will make be incredibly helpful to us, and perhaps to someone else as well who is going or will go through the same.
Chicco (above) and Nocciola (below)
first of all, I hope this is the correct section of the forum for this! Also, this is not my first language and I admit my English might not be up to the task of making this post. But I hope the ideas will be at least genuine enough to make up for the lack of form
Secondly, I know is going to be a long read, and I apologize for that! I like reading a lot, so that makes me a bit biased towards walls of text, but also I believe I have a lot to share Lastly, I write this for everyone who could maybe benefit from it or finding it interesting, but I fully disclose that I need to write this for me as well, so please be patient with the amount of text For those who don't know me, me and my wife joined the forum after the passing of Nocciola (italian for hazelnut), our first piggie who was extraordinarily loved.
Last saturday, August 17th, was the first anniversary of that day. I went through a rough and long grieving process, that lasted at least 3 months in a very acute form, to then leave room for a more manageable form which carries on to this day.
As the anniversary was approaching, I looked back at the year that had passed and reflected on it. All the thoughts that came out, I wanted to put them in a post here, because I thought I finally had something to give back to the forum, perhaps to give some hope to someone who maybe would feel as I did a year ago. I had scheduled to make that post in the coming Bank Holiday weekend. The post I had in mind was mainly about how happy I ended up being with Chicco, the piggie we got after Nocciola passed, and how an unimaginable grief was the fertile ground on which, unexpectedly, a genuine happiness would grow. It turns out life has been unpredictable in a very mean way, and we lost Chicco yesterday, as some of you might have read here. So this will be a slightly different post to what I had originally intended, sadly.
Back to August 2018. We came to the forum at that terrible time looking for listeners, and for answers. We surely find the first, we found great people here that we even had the privilege to meet in person a few times. We probably found answers as well, but we did not know any better, and this is what I'd like this post to be about.
We had one, dominant question at the time, that could have been summed up like this: "will we ever love another pet the same way?".
The answer we got was "Yes, you will love another pet, and no, it won't be the same way. It will be different, and yet equally special". This did just not add up, in my head. I understand now that was because I wanted Nocciola back. With that not being possible, I could have settled only for a new pig who was the exact copy of her, same attitude, behaviour etc.
Long story short, I know now that that answer was true. I did love Chicco in a very special way, although he was obviously so much different from Nocciola , and although I was grieving so much that I did not see Chicco for what he really was for quite some time.
This post was meant to be about the journey through the year, and through the discovery that despite very strong grief, and despite feelings of disappointment and rejection towards the new pet at first, happiness was still possible and could come in the most unexpected shape and form, like the funny, uneven marks on Chicco's sweet, loving face.
I knew this already: Nocciola came to us shortly after the passing of our previous pet, a gorgeous Syrian Hamster who was especially dear to me and my wife, as she was the first pet we had while living together, and we had just moved abroad by ourselves, leaving behind many friends and family. That was the pet that gave a new meaning to the word home to us, quite literally.
I was in grief when we got Nocciola, to the point that I did not like her at first, and I kind of rejected her.
So the "miracle" that happened with Chicco was not anything new. Turns out the same happened with Nocciola as well. It just needed to be rediscovered.
Now Chicco is gone, I am heartbroken, and these words that I so wanted to share with the forum to give hope to people grieving for their beloved, special friends, somehow start to feel less believable. And I find myself asking the same old question, "will I ever love another pet the same way?". It's like it needs to be rediscovered once again. I wanted to come back to the forum to give some answers, and yet here I am, really looking for answers for myself. Is this natural? Will this cycle ever end? See, more questions.
Finally, I know this post is getting long, and a year is difficult to sum up in just a few words and key moments, but I'll try.
When we brought Chicco home from the Coseley Rescue where we got him from, I told my wife that I resented that decision. It was a tough day. I knew that Chicco could not possibly replace Nocciola. And that was totally ok because he didn't have to, but I did not know at the time. Honestly, the only good feeling I had came from the idea of having given him the possibility of a better life, but other than that I felt completely detached from him.
5 weeks after getting Chicco, I posted a message on the forum, the title was "What are we doing wrong", in which I basically asked how to improve the interaction between us and Chicco and Lenticchia. A few actually good ideas came out of the conversation, but I remember exactly the frustration that led to making that post, and I think the title says everything. Trying to replace Nocciola, that was what I was doing wrong.
Meanwhile, Chicco was being the sweetest gentle adventurer you'll ever see. He gradually got more accustomed to our presence, to the point when you could tell that he was actually starting to enjoy it (and not only because we were the food bearers!). He was excited at the thought of getting out of his cage and stay with us. He would chatter when we would come around, or when he heard our voice after a while (again, not just at dinner time!
) We can say now confidently that he really loved us, although differently from Nocciola. "It will be different, and yet equally special"...His relationship with Lenticchia was also great, and seeing it grow everyday was part of the wonderful experience. Lenticchia, a very shy and skittish sweet lady, used to be completely dominated by Nocciola. In this new relationship, we saw her becoming the dominant piggie. That brought out almost a new Lenticchia to us, equally sweet, but more confident and more happy to spend time around us.
At some point during the year, I started to find myself quite happy at the idea of coming back home after work to Chicco and Lenticchia. Then I started to actually looking forward to it. Then I started to miss them when they were not around (holidays or days out etc). Then I realized that I actually loved the little guy. He was giving me so much, and I was giving so much to him. I was still grieving for Nocciola but hey, there was room for something else as well!
Until yesterday, when he peacefully passed. On his last night, I knew he was leaving us. I sat in front of the cage and I spoke softly to him for a long time, just so that he could hear a voice I knew he enjoyed and loved, in that time of distress. I put his need for comfort ahead of my need for protecting myself towards what I knew was coming, something I hadn't been able to do with Nocciola. I loved him and the only desire I felt was for him to not suffer. With Nocciola, my biggest desire was for her to stay with us at all costs. "It will be different, and yet equally special"...
Now Lenticchia is alone again, and we know from experience that she is not the kind of piggie who can go on happily without company. And this somehow makes me feel back at square one, being here asking you questions to which my experience already has the answers, but grief makes me forget them and maybe I will have to rediscover them again in time.
"Will I ever love another pet the same way?" "Will there ever be another piggie like Nocciola and Chicco?"
I would love to hear your thoughts on this, especially from the people here who are lucky enough to have been blessed with many piggies over many years, and have unfortunately said goodbye to many of them, and I'm sure they must have found themselves in this same cycle at some point. This is a hard time for me and for my wife who'll also read this post, and in these early days I know reading your thoughts or stories, or simply contributing to this conversation will make be incredibly helpful to us, and perhaps to someone else as well who is going or will go through the same.
Chicco (above) and Nocciola (below)
I can understand why when your piggies are so beautiful! They’re such wonderful creatures! They steal your heart with their cuteness.