Furever: New documentary looks at how we hang on to the bond after the pet is gone

Most of those who venture onto this website know the lingering pain of losing a pet, how hard it is to let go of their memory — and how, often, we never do.

Some even know that the author of this website wrote a rather bizarre book about it, looking at the ways we try to hold onto a piece, or more, of our departed pets after they’re gone — in particular the newest and perhaps most outlandish of those, dog cloning.

Catering to, and capitalizing on, the grief of bereaved pet owners is a burgeoning industry — one with a dark side, I’d argue, and one that has received little real scrutiny.

Instead, most recent portrayals — of services ranging from cloning to freeze-drying –  have been formulaic and superficial reality TV-type programs that fail to dig at all, or at least not as deep as the grief they’re focusing on.

So I’m eagerly awaiting, and have high hopes for, a new documentary called “Furever,” scheduled to premier next month as part of the Cleveland International Film Festival.

Director Amy Finkel traveled the country to look at the assorted — some might say sordid – routes we take to memorialize our dogs, or recapture a semblance of the life that once ran through them.

Her stops included a taxidermist in rural Pennsylvania, a religious group in Utah that mummifies pets, and various other parts of the country where entrepreneurs offer everything from jewelry to tattoos, made from the ashes of our dead pets.

She even popped in on Ace and me (though I’m told we don’t appear until the end of the film).

Endings are what the documentary is about, and our refusal, sometimes, to accept them — at least not without a freeze dried statue of our pet, a genetic twin created in a South Korean laboratory, or a trinket or shrine to remember them by.

Sixty-two percent of Americans own pets, spending nearly 53 billion dollars on them annually — most of that, fortunately, while their dog is still alive, but a lot of it, sometimes, after they’re gone. 

The avenues they take, while they seem sane and fitting to the pet owners, sometimes strike others as bizarre.

Finkel’s examination, judging from time I spent with her, promises to be a non-judgmental one, and one that I expect , unlike other recent looks at pet preservation, doesn’t feel the need to inject additional melodrama. Often, there’s enough there already — so much that we don’t look beyond the outrageousness to see what we might learn.  

“FUREVER is a documentary about the people looking to hang onto the memories of their four-legged loved ones, and the booming trade that is providing services that are an equal amount of creativity, empathy, and opportunity,” Finkel writes on the film’s website.

“FUREVER isn’t just about an industry that provides methods of pet preservation; it is also a study of how the relationship between owner and pet has grown throughout the centuries into a full-fledged family unit. Whether you’re a pet parent yourself, or friends with some, FUREVER gives you an intimate look into the gratitude and grief that goes with loving your pet.”

Amy Finkel earned her B.A. in Theater from Connecticut College and her M.F.A. in Design and Technology from Parsons School of Design. She lives in Brooklyn and works as a designer, photographer, documentary filmmaker, and writer.

Finkel’s project began almost five years ago, when she read a newspaper article about Mac’s Taxidermy and Freeze-Dry in Loudon, Pa., whose services included freeze-drying and preserving deceased pets — sometimes in part, sometimes in whole. One potential client wanted the ears of a Dalmatian to be preserved, and another brought an amputated dog leg.

From there she moved on to visiting the Summum, a religious group in Utah that mummifies pets, and people.

The film also looks at cloning — now available, for $100,000, in South Korea, at technology being used to turn animals’ ashes into diamonds, and at pet owners who get tattoos with ink that’s mixed with their animals cremated remains. Her brother has gotten several of those, made from the ashes of his pit bull, according to a New York Times article about Finkel’s movie.

“This is about the human-pet bond, and it’s also about mortality,” Finkel said. “We shy away from discourse on death. It’s uncomfortable and stigmatized, but maybe through talking about pets, we can open up the dialogue.”

The documentary will have its premier at Cleveland International Film Festival, with screenings on Thursday, April 11, at 7:20 p.m.; Saturday, April 13, at 3:40 p.m. and Sunday, April 14, at 11:45 a.m.

You can learn more about it at www.fureverfilm.com, or by visiting its Facebook page

(Photos by, and courtesy of, Amy Finkel)

Comments

Comment from Miss Jan
Time March 12, 2013 at 2:23 pm

Like some sports teams “retire” a jersey number of a retired or passed away star athlete, my honoring my four-legged family members’ passing takes the form of “retiring” that object which they wore every day – with dogs, their collar, with my horses, their halter. These aren’t high dollar items and they seem to remind me in a good way of who wore them.

I saw a PBS special on ferrets and their people last year and there was one woman who kept her dear departeds in the freezer. I had a hard time with that. I myself like to keep some object that reminds me in a positive way of the living animal rather than having a permanent visual of the lifeless animal as in taxidermy or mummification. But everyone deals with grief differently and as a matter of honoring diversity we should all try to understand how others need to deal with grief – not necessarily condoning what they do but just trying to understand it from their perspective.

What I do not condone is the more predatory aspects of the pet grief industry.

What I also would like to say is this: in this country we seem extremely determined to avoid grief and sadness at anyone’s passing (human or pet) and the callous remarks of others to someone who has just lost their dog are deeply wounding to the person grieving. UNDERSTANDING is what is needed. In “da olden days” people grieving for a departed family member wore mourning attire (even men wore armbands to indicate they were in one or another phase of a socially prescribed period of mourning). I’ve often thought that today’s society needs something to outwardly wear to “remind” others that they have a recent loss and to be kind. I do think the “ribbon of” campaigns are effective, when we see the pink ribbons for breast cancer awareness or yellow for bring our troops home safely or blue or purple for school violence remembrance, we DO remember and take a few seconds to contemplate loss or potential loss.

Just a few thoughts.

I lost my beloved old Jack Russell at age 16 to cancer, two Christmases plus half a year ago. I have his collar wrapped around a photo mug of him, on my desk.

Comment from vida
Time March 12, 2013 at 5:36 pm

I agree that a period of mourning would be a good thing, with visual reminders. We seem really bad about accepting sorrow, I was advised to get anti depressants when my mother died. Had to constantly explain that grieving is normal, not something you take a pill to get over. My animals who have passed are on a special shelf in cremated forms, in containers with flowers about etc. And so is my mom, her idea bless her. When I go we all get scattered together somewhere nice.

Comment from Miss Jan
Time March 13, 2013 at 12:11 pm

Vida, I am sorry for your loss. Yes, as a society we do not accept grief and sorrow – no matter how bad things are we are supposed to be happy happy happy and upbeat. What is really frightening to those who ARE prepared to understand and accept grief and sorrow and move on (again, in “da olden days” the period of mourning was a year and it’s interesting that resolving grief and getting on with life after a heavy loss does take about that amount of time, sometimes more, sometimes less) is that the medical community has decided – and entered into the medical coding books – that grief that lasts more than a few weeks is clinical depression and should be treated as such with talk therapy and of course antidepressants, many of which meds cause more problems than they ameliorate. It is at base just another way for those professionals to make more money – denying what is a normal human processing of loss and turning it into a profit center. Just my opinion, though, not any kind of professional, just one who lost both parents inside of one year, plus my forever heart dog, plus my best show horse, and of course was told I should go on Prozac because “everyone loses their parents and after all it was just a dog.”

Comment from Judith Pannebaker
Time March 13, 2013 at 6:46 pm

After one of our rescued dogs or cats dies, we “hang onto the bond” by offering a loving home to another homeless or neglected animal. I feel that’s the best way to honor the memory of a friend that has passed. While you can never replace a beloved pet, hearts are certainly big enough to make room for another pet – or two or even three.

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