One of Canada’s oldest and still surviving Victorian cemeteries is Ross Bay. When I was a kid, many stories were told about ghost sightings and spooky activity on dark nights. Even now, Victoria is reputed to be a place where paranormal activity occurs. People have reported sightings of the spirit of Isabella Ross, the woman who owned the land where the cemetery was built. Other reports include the eerie vision of a lady in white, the ghosts of a couple, and a distressed woman looking for a lost child.

One could not think up a more perfect setting for hauntings! Huge old headstones and ornate mausoleums, tall pillars and monuments of angels with wide outspread wings, tall trees bending in the wind…all fueled our imaginations!

Ross Bay Cemetery is located directly alongside Dallas Road, and was named after the bay that is across from it. In the early days, the cemetery actually extended all the way to the beach, and during heavy weather, the waves would crash right into the cemetery. Stories are told of coffins floating out to sea, and the bones of the dead being found on the beach. Eventually, Dallas Road was extended and a sea wall was built. However, I remember some stormy days when the waves crashed over the seawall, flooding Dallas Road, and threatening to flood the cemetery.

Many of British Columbia’s Premiers and famous citizens are laid to rest at Ross Bay: Sir James Douglas the founder of Fort Victoria and chief factor of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and one of my heroines, artist and writer Emily Carr amongst them.

One of the last times I visited my home town, I joined some of my classmates from Oak Bay High’s 1960 graduation class for a long walk. We cut through the cemetery to reach our lunch destination. As I walked through the well-travelled winding pathways and green spaces, I experienced Ross Bay Cemetery in a whole new way. I marveled at the absolute beauty of the Victorian monuments and statuary, the many mature trees and ever-changing blooms, and the spectacular setting looking south over the bay to the Olympic Mountains. To my eyes now, it is a place of restfulness and history. A true Victoria treasure.

This beautiful new gravestone was erected on Emily Carr’s gravesite in Ross Bay Cemetery in September 2001, and honors Emily Carr using her own words. The stone reads:

Dear Mother Earth!
I think I have always specially belonged to you. I have loved from babyhood to roll upon you, to lie with my face pressed right down on to you in my sorrows. I love the look of you and the smell of you and the feel of you. When I die, I should like to be in you uncoffined, unshrouded, the petals of flowers against my flesh, and you covering me up.

Bretta grew up with many animal friends (and they were indeed friends.) Looking over photos from her childhood, most picture a widely smiling little girl with her arm flung around the neck of a horse, or with a bunny, dog or cat in her lap or close by.

She loved Irish step dancing, country music, 80’s music from her teen years, Halloween (her little home was always decked out), St. Patrick’s Day, Dancing With the Stars, and anything Disney.

She was yet to take an airplane flight when she died, in fact she never travelled very far from her home area. She loved her work, her animals, her friends and family and kept close to them and kept them close to her.

Only 33 at death, the one word that describes Bretta is kind. Bretta was kind. Such an old-fashioned word that says so much and encompasses so many other qualities- loyalty, generosity, non-judgmentalness, compassion and belief in “do unto others”. This is her legacy. She is forever Bretta in the hearts of those who love her, and will forever be missed.

When I close my eyes and allow visions of my childhood animal companions to arise, I see my little dog Bitsy playing in the yard, my cat Silky dressed up in doll clothes with my little sister pushing her around in a buggy, and, from my teen years, my cat Elvis lazing in a sun patch. Fast forward to early adulthood, and my three dachshunds appear in my vision: Schultzy, who liked to sleep with his nose buried under my arm; Sarah, who hardly had a chance to grow beyond puppy-hood; and Leroy, a rescue, who became my daughters’ touchstone during difficult times (a major move, a divorce). Later, my three felines: the beautiful and proud Kitty, dear placid Mary and the amazing orange wonder Tommy. All gone now. My memories bring smiles.

Eyes open, I see my sleeping cats: the oh-so  narcissistic Rocky and sweet blue-eyed Sky. I smile. And yet I know someday they too will move out of my life.

We who choose to live with other sentient beings are blessed. We get to experience a deep connection with another species (to the extent we are open to it) and in doing so, expand our capacity to give and receive love.

With the death of a cherished pet, some of us find ourselves flooded with a grief that suprises and overwhelms us with its intensity. Following are a few insights and suggestions to assist you during this time.

Allow: Honor yourself and your beloved friend by allowing the expression of feelings. Give yourself permission to fully grieve, even if it feels scary. It may mean some restless nights, exhaustion, and/or taking some time off your regular routine to just be. As much as possible, give yourself this time.

Ask: Reach out to trusted family and friends and let yourself be supported. If for any reason this is not possible, there are resources available in the forms of books, counselors, and pet bereavement sites on the internet. This applies also if your pet is still living but going through a terminal illness. It is crucial to be supported at this confusing and painful time that can bring up doubts about what is the right thing to do, and asks so much of you as a caregiver holding the high watch over your pet.

Action: Find a way to express your feelings. Write a letter to your animal companion, make a painting or photo collage, or arrange a memorial service or ritual to honor your pet. It could be a simple gathering of others who knew and loved your pet, with stories and remembrances to celebrate her life.

Above all, remember it is okay to grieve. An animal companion’s death is significant. This is a being you have had daily contact with, whose essence is clearly imprinted on every aspect of your home and your heart. This is a being that has loved and known you. A family member.

The passing of a pet can often be a child’s first experience with death. This gives parents an opportunity to assist their child through the grieving process. Unresolved grief from childhood often can have a negative effect on personal growth and development later in life. There are some wonderful books written for children on the death of a pet, and many resources on the internet to assist you in understanding how children perceive death at different ages.

As I write this, Rocky sits patiently watching the robins…

This was written before Rocky died on  May 30th 2008. Sky and I have since welcomed a very fun boy named Lenny into our home and hearts. Below is a photo of Rocky in his favorite place.