In Memory of Willy: What The Experience of Personal Loss Taught Me About Leadership

Recently, my wife and I had to put our oldest dog to sleep. Willy, a 12 year old scottish terrier, passed away in the comfort of his own bed at home. His family was beside him the entire time, processing the grief of the impending loss to our family.

Willy's impact on our life was significant. For me, Willy was the first dog I ever had. I grew up with a cat in my household as a child. I enjoyed the cat's company, but it was never "my" cat. Plus, I always enjoyed the prospect of having a dog as a companion. So when my wife and I (then dating) decided to move in together senior year of college in Boston, we underpinned that decision to get our first dog together.

Willy was also a "therapy" dog for me. I had recently had my first bout of clinical depression and anxiety symptoms in my life earlier in the year. That experience taught me I need a good support system for my mental health - professional and familial. Willy was there by side from 12 weeks old to 12 years old and 3 months - an absolute perfect example of "man's best friend". He calmed me down when I was upset, and grounded me when I needed it most. He was the best unofficial therapy dog I could've possibly asked for.

I love Willy very much: I have, I do, and I always will. He meant more to me than anyone will ever know. That is why his final hours were some of the hardest of my life to handle.

Why am I telling you this story, and what does this have to do with leadership?

Two major reasons:

1) You have to understand what you are asking of people during the process of change.  

Change involves loss. So when you seek change, part of that process needs to include the people impacted by the change. But it doesn't stop there; you have to understand how that change is going to impact them. This can be very difficult if you: a) Have never experienced the type of loss people are facing, or b) You have not spoken in-depth enough to the people who stand to lose something due to the changes you propose.

The first point is pretty self-explanatory, as you people tend to learn best by experience. The latter point might require some clarification.

Let me provide an example:

Our family veterinarian - a nice guy - is great at the technical side of his job. He is a great diagnostician, medical resource for remedies, and a great surgeon - amongst many other technical traits.

However, he is was not good at something that mattered to us in the final weeks of Willy's life - relating on a human level to the loss being asked of us. He delivered the news of his prognosis as a matter-of-fact and with options going forward, but it just felt ... blunt and direct. It lacked a human connection, and it lacked acknowledging what pains we were going to face making any of those decisions.

We needed understanding of what we were going through, not just the facts and statistics.

I do not fault the guy for it. He's a surgeon and a veterinarian, a balancing act of being extremely calm under pressure of taking a life and managing the expectations of us humans who are very emotionally attached to our animals. The combination of skills needed to be a surgeon and a compassionate and empathetic veterinarian is nearly impossible to find.

What we needed was someone to metaphorically "hold us" while we learned to adapt to the stresses of this impeding loss in our lives. Sure, we needed the medical prognosis and options, including medicine prescribed and such - but we needed more than that going forward.

That leads me to the second major point of this story:

2) You have to create a "holding environment" for your people to work through the challenges of change.

People who resist change do so because of loss associated with change. This is especially true when the losses associated with change are being faced all at once. Asking people to make decisions in this state of mind is a very tall task.

Take the previous example with our veterinarian. What he was effectively asking us to do in the 2 weeks prior to Willy's death was insurmountable for us at the time; he wanted us to start planning for the end of life experience for Willy.

We were not emotionally - or even logistically - prepared for this change.

Once the time came for Willy to be put to sleep, we leaned on advice from friends who recommended a traveling hospice veterinarian to do the procedure in our home. When we felt it was likely time, we hired the recommended hospice veterinarian to come that late morning.

Folks, the experience this person offered blew me away. Why?  She created a holding environment for us to manage the stresses of the loss we were about to face.

A "holding environment" is essentially the space created by one party for the other part(ies) to do the adaptive work. In essence, a holding environment provides the structure and support necessary for people to process conflict, uncertainty, and discomfort while fostering growth and change.

With the hospice vet, we felt supported and acknowledged throughout the process, while also remaining engaged in making the final decisions for Willy. She paced the losses so that we did not have to face every step at once. We took time to understand our options, while allowing time to process emotionally what was about to happen. This happened through her tactful use of emotional support, a calm and soothing demeanor, and holding back parts of the process we were not ready to make the decision on at that time.

By the end of what was possibly the hardest experience of our lives, we felt thankful and grateful for the hospice veterinarian's approach and services. We still grieve the loss of our beloved friend, but we did not regret or resent anyone or anything in the process of this change.

The Takeaways:

I'll keep this part short and on point:

• Understand what you are asking people during the process of change - aka what do they really stand to lose, and how will they experience the loss?

• Create a holding environment for people to process changes being asked of them.

• Love your animals relentlessly. They are on this earth for a short time, but their light shines many times brighter.

RIP Willard "Willy" Kebschull-Ladany

08/11/2012 - 11/20/2024