In Western culture we nurture a fear of death and have very minimal mourning/loss rituals for ourselves (humans). These traditions generally consist of burial or cremation, coupled with a ceremony or celebration of life. However, our practices have not always been so simplistic. In Victorian Era Europe, a time that really interests me, mourning ritual and tradition was much more elaborate. During this time death, loss, and commemoration were huge pivital and outward social topics. The deceased were photographed postmortem, locks of hair were cut and made into fashionable mourning era jewelry, and there was a long social projection of mourning conveyed through the color of clothing worn and the duration these garments were worn.
My project aimes to photograph and document people in mourning for their deceased pets, people preparing for the death of a pet, or any variation there of. People who are struggling to let go of their pets departure and therefore hold on to items the pet loved, their ashes etc... are also of interest to me. For instance, I would like to capture burials, spreading of ashes, gatherings of family members to say goodbye, euthanasias in the home or at vets offices, and, ceremonies, etc... Though documentation, recorded interviews, objects I will make to commemorate these pets/relationships, and exploration I hope to be able to relate my own pet loss that I have recently experienced and to better understand my mourning rituals that I have invented for my own solace and peace. Through personal examination and study of other's mourning practices, I seek to understand the unwritten mourning rituals we as Americans practice and project onto our pets that we anthropomorphize so much.
These photos are of a stranger, made friend, Malibu Fried. I came across her the other day while walking my dogs at the Albany Bulb in Albany, CA. It is a small beach, considered undesirable because it often littered with trash, that is why it has never been developed and has been left for the dogs. It is a designated dog beach where you can find frolicking dogs playing in the mild waves and chasing sandy balls that are pitches out to sea to be retrieved, despite the litter and trash lining the shore.
As I approached Malibu, I could see her sadness, and in her arms she held a clump of small roses, a pair of tennis balls, and a small carved wooded box of ashes: those of her Phoenix Bleu. I couldnt help but feel that we were meant to cross paths. I appreached her, and knew what she was there to do, and she understood that I knew why she was there, without speaking a word.We made small talk, and through her sobs she told me about Phoenix Bleu, her 13-year-old yellow Labrador Retreiver who had passed away on September 13, 2011. It had taken her this long, due to excuses of "not today", "I'm too sad today", "I just can't" to bring herself to set part of Phoenix free here, their favorite place to be together. It was a picturesque day: there was sun, sea, and many dogs playing on the beach. She told me this is how Phoenix would have wanted it. I asked Malibu, feeling like I was imposing on such a personal and private event if I could come with her and photograph this time in her mourning for Phoenix. She didn't think twice, and welcomed me.
Malibu has no children -- just Phoenix. And as he aged she realized that she should get another pet in preparation for him to depart at some point in the future. So she brought home Hershey, a small black kitten. When he grew up Hershey and Phoenix became friends. But more importantly they were family. Malibu, Phoenix and Hershey were family.
One day Phoenix stopped eating and became lethargic, neither of which were characteristics of his normal demeanor. His neck swelled, and his collar no longer fit. Malibu lovingly took him to the vet where it was determined that he now had cancer. So Malibu took care to make Phoenix comfortable for his final days. After a week, when Phoenix passed, Malibu couldn't help but think that her cancer had manifested itself in Phoenix -- that he somehow had sacrificed himself for her -- and that his time with her had now expired for he had fulfilled his purpose of being here with her.
Malibu stood, whispered something quietly to Phoenix and turned around to look at me. We were together in that moment, where Phoenix had been summoned to surround her and try to heal her sadness from the separation of his embodied physical self and soul. I was there in that moment watching her perform an act that was giving her closure, and a sense of peace.
Malibu plans to send the other half of Phoenix's ashes to Florida where they spent many of their younger years together, and to keep a small vile of Phoenix Bleu with her all the time.
This has been my first encounter and documentation of my pet commemoration and mourning project. So, if you have recently lost a pet, or know somebody who has and might be interested in participating in this very personal and collective project about pets, their people, and their story together please contact me. In the culmination stages, this will involve showing photos, interviews, writings, and made objects that commemorate your pet in a gallery setting.
Malibu told me that she found my documentation to be helpful in her mourning and loss process and was grateful for my presence at such a private introspective time. She compared me to an angel, but really I was just a stranger in the right place at the right time. I hope that other people will have the same positive experience as I commemorate their pets, and their relationship with them and would love to share copies of my photos and writings in exchange.
Please contact me, Megan.If you are interested in participating, I am happy to discuss any questions you have in regards to this project. I am located currently in the Sand Francisco Bay Area, and am willing to travel reasonable distances for documentation. Phone: 408.621.0036
