Oreo

In this episode, Wayne tells us about a very special girl named Oreo. 

Transcript

Dead Pets Podcast - Episode: Oreo

Host: Elyse Wild
Guest: Wayne
Episode: A Tribute to Oreo

IntroductionELYSE WILD: Welcome to Dead Pets, a podcast about pet grief that celebrates the creatures who have changed our lives and left this mortal coil. I'm your host, Elyse Wild. On today's episode, Wayne joins us to talk about a very special girl named Oreo.

WAYNE: My girlfriend picked her out, and I was a bit reluctant at first to picking her out, but I agreed to get her. And about a week later is when I fell in love with her. We went hiking up in the Chiricahua Mountains. She's a black and white terrier mix—black and white rat terrier, border collie, about 27 pounds.

We went hiking up in the Chiricahuas, and I just wanted to see what she would do off leash. She was only about 10 weeks old. She sniffed the trail up ahead of me on point, and she got to the junction, and she just waited for me to show me which way to go. You know, "Which way do you want me to go?" And I was like, "Oh my god, we're gonna get along so good. I got my best hiking partner ever here."

So I felt an instant connection to her and fell in love with her. That was when I just totally committed my whole heart to her, and I said, "She's my dog." It was like, that was it. It was like, "No, she's gonna be my dog." I just wasn't looking for a dog, so I wasn't even out thinking there was a possibility of having a dog. I just thought it would take up a lot of time. But after I committed to her, I was with her 24/7. I mean, she was every place. I brought her to work with me—everywhere. In the stores, in the doctor's office, the chiropractor's office. She jumped up on the table with me. You know, everywhere. 24/7 she was with me. Countless trails we hiked.

So that's really what changed—just my heart, my connection, and the love I felt for her. It just made me want to commit deeply to her and commit my all to her, my day-to-day living.

Life Before and With Oreo

WAYNE: Most of my time prior to Oreo was spent in the mountains, my free time hiking and camping and outdoor stuff. So it was a perfect natural fit. She just added to it. Mostly, yeah, that's what I did—if I wasn't in nature, I was at work. And the only thing that changed was my level of commitment and devotion to her and hers to me.

For the 15 years we were together, it was like she came first in everything. We were a perfect match. She was my soul dog, like no other dog I ever had, no other pet. She wasn't really like a pet. I call her my Bodhisattva because of so much that she taught me. She was the perfect dog in every way. We had a synergistic, symbiotic relationship.

I think the only thing that really changed is my life got better. It got more manageable. I was able to do a lot of in-depth recovery for my own self, working in recovery in the health field. You know, my own personal recovery was addressed with Oreo.

WAYNE: I took her up to North Dakota with me on a road trip from Tucson, Arizona, to go back to my hometown in North Dakota where there was a lot of abuse. The house was sold, but it was still there, and we sat on the front steps and I just cried. Oreo was there. She just patiently waited and licked my hand.

Then I went to my high school and walked down the old hallways where I felt like I was bullied and teased and felt apart from everybody. She sniffed the locker and looked at me and wiggled her butt like, "No big deal. Let's get out of here." It was just a very healing time for me.

I went to all the graves of my mother, my stepfather, my little brother, my youngest sister, my nephew. I did ceremonies on their graves while I was up there and left crystals and feathers. She was just patient right by my side.

WAYNE: Her personality was she just loved to hike. She loved to get out in nature. She loved her swimming holes. She liked water. She would smell out the water, and she knew where all the swimming holes were on the trails. She would jump in them, get wet, shake it off, and then zoom up the hill and wait for me.

She had a little lightning bolt on her neck, a white lightning bolt on her neck that would go side to side when she was on point, which was always her meaning and purpose beyond point on the hikes. You know, she was always up front. She was bold, fearless. She didn't bark at people. She was never hurt, so she felt very safe and secure and comfortable. Very calm dog, but very assertive if she felt there was danger.

Very good off leash, very good with recall, good with other dogs. Although she didn't like being around other dogs, she just liked being around me. It was just me and her. She was my buddy, my teacher, my guru. She taught me so many things, but it was simple. What I believe is like my soul was outside of me for 15 years, showing me who I am. She gave me everything I didn't get in my childhood and helped me reparent myself. She helped me heal from trauma.

WAYNE: She was mindful. She taught me. She was the best teacher of mindfulness and meditation. Very patient with me. You know, I always say that I'm thoroughly convinced we're not through with any relationship until we've learned everything there is to learn about love in that relationship.

I believe that Oreo made my heart so much softer and larger by the love we both shared so she could live there. And that's where she is. You know, the body goes away, but the love remains. The package leaves, the real stuff—the love—that's what she taught me. Unconditional love. She taught me how to love myself, how to love others, how to be loving to her. She taught me the meaning of unconditional love.

My son is the only comparison to her. She was my daughter, and she lives inside my heart. I feel her and I say today she's still with me. She's teaching me how to grieve. She teaches me that she's making more room. She reminds me when I get to those places where I miss her—that's her kicking around inside my heart, making it softer and larger.

She taught me how to access my feelings, how to be emotionally available, not only with others but with myself. She gave me meaning and purpose. When she died, people would tell me, "You can always get another dog." And I was like, "I don't go to parents' funerals and tell them to go to the overcrowded orphanage and get another child. You just don't get it." You can't replace that kind of a dog. She was not a dog. She was like a child to me, and she was like a toddler who would never grow up.

So I was constantly devoted and taking care of her. You know, I gave her the best nutrition, the best food, and she took her last breath in my lap. There was nothing I wouldn't do for her. And she was perfect. She didn't do anything wrong—nothing. And she forgave me for all of my infallibility and faults prior to me ever making any mistakes.

She taught me the meaning of a God, of a relationship of a God.

WAYNE: And I feel her right now, kicking, making more room. You know, they say that the law of thermodynamics—energy is neither created nor destroyed, it just changes form. I don't believe she's gone. I believe she's still with me. And of course, I would love to take her walking and hiking, and I do that by loving me the way I loved her and I love others from the overflow of loving myself. That's what she taught me. She taught me that real, compassionate, unconditional love.

And I feel like if I'm able to love her that way, there must be a higher power or benevolence in the universe that loves me that way. Otherwise, it's not worth serving.

WAYNE: When you ask what is a soul dog, it's like this was the being in my life that showed me everything about myself that I needed to learn—unsurpassed devotion, loyalty, kindness, gentleness.

We went on hikes, not typical hikes. We'd go on 20 to 30 miles in a day, 7,000 feet of elevation gain, and she'd still be raring to go. I mean, she was just always up for a walk. Four in the morning, she'd be at the bedroom door, shaking her little butt like, "Come on, let's go. We've got things to do." So she was a woman after my own heart—that kind of loyalty and devotion. And she loved it. So 20 to 30 mile hikes, not a big deal for her. Very commonplace. She was pure muscle, you know, not a bit of fat on her.

WAYNE: One of the hikes up in the San Francisco Mountains north of Flagstaff, Arizona—it was in October and a storm was coming in, but we were going to do just like a 20-mile loop. We got up to the top of the mountains. We drove straight up and then got up there. Coming from the flatland here up to there, the altitude sickness started hitting me up in the higher elevation, and a whiteout blizzard happened. I lost my way. That's the first time I ever got lost.

I was thinking when the storm was coming, and I saw the junction at Agassiz Peak, and we were supposed to be on Humphreys Peak. I knew we were lost. And I was thinking that this isn't the way we're supposed to go out. I hiked down. I had altitude sickness, hypothermia, and I did an emergency bivouac. I built a lean-to, stoked the fire all night long. My battery was dead in my phone. I didn't have a flashlight. I kept Oreo warm. I stoked the fire. I waited till the full moon came up so I could see by the light of the moon so we could get out.

I got to the windshield of my truck, and there was a note on there from the sheriff that search and rescue was out looking for us, and I was supposed to call the sheriff. My girlfriend called search and rescue because I didn't come home. And that was just one of—like I said, when I took her up to do healing trauma work, that was huge.

There's plenty of things that we did together. You know, the hikes she did in freezing weather and 110-degree weather. She was just always up for a hike. We'd hike up to the top of the mountain here from my back door, which was 25 miles up to the top and back to the ski lift and back. And that was what we'd do on a regular basis. You know, it was just constant—what are your needs? What are my needs? And there was that synergistic relationship.

WAYNE: When we were done at the grocery store—that's another thing. Bashas' was one of her favorite places to go to because everybody knew her in the grocery store. They knew her name, and she knew what we were there for because we would head to the deli and she would get her treats, her deli meats. You know, her eye on the prize. She would just stay focused as the person back there was cutting them. But prior to getting there, her little ears would be pinned back and she'd be tugging on the leash, and we'd run to the deli because she had this big smile on her face. She knew what we were there for.

And then afterwards, I'd grab some deli meat or rotisserie chicken and I'd feed it to her out on the patio of Bashas'. Then we'd hike around the parking lot and the buildings so she could pee on everything, mark her territory. And we would do that—that was a regular thing. Any grocery store, any store we went to, she always got her time to walk afterwards, to pee on everything.

It was always about—I just wanted her to be a dog. That's all. I just wanted her to be the best version of a dog she knew how to be. So anything I could do to facilitate that and her just being naturally who she was, was a perfect fit for me. You know, countless nights we would build shelters up in the mountains and sleep in them. We would go camping and backpacking, long trips and many road trips. She did all the national parks in the West here. Well, most of them—the ones other than Channel Islands and Alaska. She didn't get to go to Alaska with me. She did all the states, though. The six highest peaks in Arizona, she was on those.

ELYSE WILD: Really beautiful life together.

WAYNE: We did. You know, for 15 years. Like I said, 24/7.

ELYSE WILD: Tell me about the day that Oreo died.

WAYNE: Well, leading up to that day, she watched me dig her grave. It's in the backyard here, and it's covered in heart rocks. The heart rocks we found on our hikes—I have over 800 heart-shaped rocks, and her grave is covered in these heart-shaped rocks.

But that day that she died, I told her, I said, "The package is going to be here, but this is where you're going to live—in my heart. I'll feel you." And she just watched me dig the grave, and I knew she understood.

So I called the vet. She quit eating for two days, so I knew she was telling me it's time. And she quit eating. I called Lap of Love. They came out, and the veterinarian that put her to sleep was a pure angel. She's filled with compassion. Perfect. Everything went just the way it was supposed to.

She rested on my lap. The first shot, she fell asleep. And then I felt her take her last breath, and she evacuated all of herself on me. And I placed her in her coffin with some of her toys and her favorite blanket, a couple crystals, an eagle feather, an owl feather. And I buried her. I saged the coffin. I saged the grave. And I put the package in my backyard. And then I began my journey of healing.

WAYNE: I didn't use anything to divert my feelings. I felt those feelings fully. Sometimes blubbering like a baby, blowing huge snot bubbles, just feeling my feelings fully, holding them like a newborn baby, being up in our favorite spots in the mountains. And feeling like at times I wanted to die, just wanted the pain to stop. But I knew I had to go through it. And I knew she was feeling it. She was still making room inside my heart that the more I felt it, the more I would heal.

So I would go to our favorite places alone. I would hike the trails alone, remembering her. And I remember feeling like the trees miss her and the trails miss her paws and the swimming holes missed her. She was everywhere but nowhere. There was nowhere I could go where she wasn't.

It was hard getting in my truck because that was her favorite place. She had the crew cab all to herself, and I had the rearview mirror fixed so I could look at her as I was driving. And it was so hard to get inside my truck. It was so hard to go to those trails, to the meadow. And it still is difficult, but not like it was.

ELYSE WILD: Tell me about the dog that you have now. When did you get her?

WAYNE: I got her about a year ago, and I don't think I was ready to get her, but I was faced with either get her or she's going to go to a different foster, and I probably won't have the chance. So I was reluctant, like I was with Oreo. I just didn't know if I was ready, if I had the space in my heart.

So Millie, she's growing on me. We've created new adventures. She's different than Oreo, and she's not a replacement. She's got a lot of fears. She was rescued from the street. Oreo was rescued from the Humane Society, but I got Oreo young. I got Millie when she was eight months. Oreo was eight weeks. And she was rescued from the street from people who were using drugs. So God only knows what kind of baggage she has. Plus she's a Jack Russell-Parson Russell, so she's spitting vinegar.

And she loves the lifestyle. I think we both won the lottery, you know, because she fits the same lifestyle. She likes to play more than Oreo did, but she still loves to hike as much as Oreo did. And I took her on a trip up to Alaska—road trip that Oreo and I were supposed to go to. Six weeks and 10,000 miles.

We went to the coast, to the redwoods. Oreo had been to the redwoods. We went to the place where Oreo was sick. I brought Oreo to the coast hoping the saltwater would help her lungs, help minimize the anguish in her lungs. And I brought her to the redwoods, some of Oreo's favorite trails. We went up to The Wave in Utah, Buckskin Gulch. Oreo had been to those places, to Zion.

So we took six weeks and went up to Alaska. And on my birthday, I was up there eating wild blueberries with Millie in one of the national parks up there—Wrangell-St. Elias. You know, I wanted blueberry pie on my birthday, and I forgot to get it. And I looked around and there were wild blueberry bushes. So it was like the universe was providing.

On my birthday, I was in Alaska and created new memories with Millie, and I look forward to the new memories we're going to be creating. We plan in the spring on going up to Maine, kicking off the seven states that I haven't done out of the 50, and then traveling across the provinces and territories of Canada and knocking all those off the bucket list and going back up to Alaska again and camping out of the truck. You know, that's the magic box that takes us to fun, sniffy places. That's the way the puppy dogs see it.

WAYNE: Oreo is teaching me how to grieve. So every time I feel the grief, I know it's her inside my heart, kicking around, making more room, reminding me she's here. And I went to the places that I feared going to the most. You know, the rainforests of Oregon, because Oreo and I spent some time there, and it was one of her favorite places. She loved running down the beach.

And it wasn't as scary as I thought it was going to be. In fact, it felt like a relief. It was like, "Wow, I can still do this. I can still have this kind of fun. I don't have to be afraid. I don't have to be fearful of going here."

And I also felt like, even though Oreo wasn't able to do the trip because she got sick, that because Millie was doing it, Oreo was approving, saying, "Yeah, I feel it. You don't have me from the past, but remember, you have Millie here in the present."

And every time I feel love for Millie, it's like my connection to Oreo. That's what Oreo taught me—how to love. So anytime I express that love for Millie, Oreo is connecting to that love. That's the real stuff, you know? That's the stuff that stays forever. That's the only stuff that really matters—the love that we share.

So I don't know if that answered the question, but Alaska was a lifelong dream. I've been there before. I flew out there, but driving up there on the Alaskan Highway was always—that's the reason I bought the truck. That's the reason I put the camper shell on it. It was supposed to be Oreo's and my trip before she got sick and we weren't able to do it. But we were, because she was in my heart. She just wasn't there physically. She was there spiritually or energetically inside my heart.

WAYNE: The amount of grief is in equal proportion to the amount of love. I don't believe that grief is a linear thing that you get over. I believe that grief changes our reality. That when that body goes away, when the package is no longer in this physical existence, the whole reality and how I related to the reality was changed.

Now I have to do these things that I did 24/7 with her. I have to do this alone. Throughout those times when I was up in the mountains, in the darkness, in the meadow, the place where we used to lay and watch the clouds, and she would be snuggled in her blanket next to me, snoring, and I would just be watching the clouds. Or we would be watching the stars. And I'd be up there after she died, and I was up there crying, just purging, crying. But I knew that had to be done.

And the feeling of wanting to die but not wanting to kill myself because I didn't want to abandon my son, but just wishing I was dead because I wanted to be with her. And then remembering that she's there with me—that everything I do to me, I'm doing to her.

So that's what's changed now. I do things now that are very loving to me, and she feels that. I believe that, because that's part of her legacy.

WAYNE: Prior to this, what I wanted to mention too—something good that came from Oreo's death was turning that stumbling block into a stepping stone. In the anticipation of it, I created a grief group on Facebook: Grief and Loss for a Beloved Pet. And I did this in anticipation of her leaving, two to three years prior to her leaving.

Well, right now it's at 200,000 people. I never anticipated it would get that big, you know, that it reached that many people. But everybody has the same story—the deep, heartfelt loss, the change of reality, trying to find a new favorite "me" in this new reality, trying to navigate this new reality without that pure, unconditional, perfect love. You know, everybody has the same story.

I'm the administrator of the group. It's Oreo's legacy. You know, I've been offered money to sell the group. Somebody recently offered me $6,000, which is nothing for the group. And Oreo is not for sale, you know, to advertise on the group or none of that. This is just for people's feelings, people who lost their beloved pet. You know, that's what it's for. It's a format for people to feel the deepest feelings amongst support. That's it.

WAYNE: You learn to adapt, and that's what I've done. I've learned to adapt. And Millie, she is great. She's helping me to create new memories, but she's not a replacement. And every time I go back into the rumination, which brings up the depression and I ruminate on Oreo, it's like, "No, remember it. Feel the gratitude. Be present with Millie. Let's create new memories."

And that's how I navigate now—honor the past with gratitude. Sometimes I still cry, sometimes I get to that dark place, but seeing the things I have right now helps me to have more composure and adapt.

WAYNE: And I think that's the key factor to take away from all of this—to remember what they teach us. I believe all dogs, cats, beloved pets, when we invest and we have that courage to invest fully, that they give us the gifts of healing. They give us gifts. I believe in recovery. Recovery, to me, is a return to our natural state. That's how I define recovery—you return to a natural state.

So they teach us how to do that because they are just pure, unadulterated love, you know. And they show us and they forgive unconditionally. They love unconditionally. Loyalty and devotion is unsurpassed. And when they can teach us these lessons and we can act in the way they act, and we can in our fallible, human, egoic way, when we can do the things that they taught us—that's the connection, I think. And that's what makes sense out of it for me, you know.

It's like Oreo is still here, you know. But man, it'd just be great to take her on a walk and watch her plunge into one of those swimming holes and how she would jump up those switchbacks and just wait for me and wiggle her butt when we get eye contact and continue to run down the trail.

Closing

ELYSE WILD: Thank you for listening. If you have a dead pet that you'd like to share, please send an email to deadpetsofficial@gmail.com.

Dead Pets is a Wild Media Industries production. It is written and hosted by me, Elyse Wild. Our sound is edited by Brandon Hill. Original music is written, performed and produced by Brandon Hill. Please remember to like and subscribe. For more information, please visit deadpetspodcast.com.

"Until one has loved an animal, one's soul remains unawakened." —Anatole France