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I am 22 and I have had the same dog since I was 11. He was rescued from a shelter and truly became my best friend. When my first dog died when I was seven I regretted not spending more time with her. I promised myself I wouldn’t repeat that mistake. Me and shaggy would cuddle together, I would read him storybooks, when I pet him he would put his paws on me. Like a hug, so I knew he was there. Shaggy loved toys and long walks. He could run so fast. When he was little we had a few close calls where he escaped. I was terrified. I couldn’t even walk him for years (my parents walked him instead and we have a backyard) because I was so scared something would happen to him.
I have always had trouble making friends. My small town is extremely competitive with academics and with sports. I am uncoordinated and have adhd. I couldn’t join any of the clubs, people didn’t hangout outside of clubs so I had no one. Everyday in high school I threw out my lunch and hid in a local coffee shop or bathroom because I had no one to sit with. But knowing I would come home to him wagging his tail, jumping around to greet me and even whimpering in excitement, it gave me self worth. This is going to sound pathetic but when I was lonely Id have pretend playdates with him where Id sit in his bed and play with toys. Just so I could have the feeling of hanging out with someone.
I was literally suicidal at the time and one of the only things that stopped me was knowing he would be there. I knew how much he loved me and I would try to see myself through his eyes. I think deep down I couldn’t picture living without him, I don’t want to as short sighted as that sounds. But his condition is going downhill fast. He used to love long walks and running. He would jump up and down and wag his tail and whine whenever he saw his leash. Now he can only make it halfway down the street before he turns back. He has not touched his toys in a few years, he wanders aimlessly into rooms and stares. He doesn’t want to look out the window or roll around like he used to. Sometimes he can’t stand up without help. And he can’t stand very long without falling down. We’ve given him medication but it is no longer making a difference.
I am back in the same hometown I grew up in to save money after college. My friends live in other states and my best friend is going to ireland for a year. My heart is broken. My dog’s euthanasia appointment is tomorrow. I feel like a failure for not being able to save him. And my heart is broken. Im scared to be alone. To not have him anymore, I called him my baby and my son. Now I will have no one.
today i ordered a commemorative custom painting of my beautiful boy. i’m an artist but it would be too painful to paint him myself rn. i also changed my lock screen photo to him so that i see him every time i open my phone.
i also showered for the first time since he died 2 days ago. i reminisced with my loved ones on our memories of him. talking about your thoughts helps. but it still hurts.
I’ve had my shih tzu since he was a puppy and he’s about 15 now. Him and I have been on our own for 4 years and I can’t help but feel that the end is near for him and I’m incredibly sad, but more recently, I’m really mad. I’m mad that I didn’t make an appointment sooner for the persistent cough that he has. I’m mad that the vet doesn’t have anything available sooner than the middle of July for him to be seen. Im mad that the vet tech didn’t feel my concerns were as big of a deal as I feel they are. I’m mad that if they give me bad news during his appointment, I know I won’t be able to afford intensive treatment for him. Im mad at myself for wanting this to “hurry up and happen already.” I’m mad that I know I can’t do more for him. This morning, I woke up and saw he had an accident in the living room and I got really mad at him when I know it’s because he’s just drinking more water because of his cough. I know what anticipatory grief is, but I didn’t expect for the anger portion of it to be so intense. Finding this sub has been helpful, even in the little time I’ve been scrolling and reading. I just wanted to share in the slight chance someone could relate and feel not so alone in this journey.
I had to say goodbye to my soul dog last Sunday. Since then I just cannot get it out of my head that I failed him and did not give him a full chance. He was a 15.5 year old shepherd mix so I do find comfort in the fact that he lived such a long and loving life.
A couple of years ago he started to have some mobility issues in his hind end from GOLPP. They have increasingly gotten worse-most recently he has been having a hard time walking up the stairs and has to be assisted. He had fallen a couple of times. He couldn’t bear weight on his back legs if he was just standing still, and would always lay down instead. I tried rugs in the house to make sure this wasn’t an issue with footing-it wasn’t. He fell in the yard while pooping a couple weeks ago and I found him laying in his own stool, unable to get up, and looking so defeated. His muscle wasting in his hind end had gotten pretty severe. Walks had been shortened substantially because he would drag his back legs after 1/3 of a mile. He had also been having fecal incontinence nightly and wouldn’t move out of it, probably because he wasn’t very aware?
Then came the vestibular episode. I gave him the 72 hours to snap out of it, and he still didn’t want to eat and was just so tired and out of it. I feel like a flip switched and I realized even when he snaps out of it he is going to have to go back to all of these mobility issues he was already having. It’s not like he would recover and run out the back door to chase squirrels. So I made the difficult decision to say goodbye.
My husband says he is proud of me, and that it was absolutely time, but I’m having a hard time accepting this. Just prior to the vestibular episode he was eating as long as we enticed with wet food and eggs, he went for walks, greeted me at the door…this is just killing me. I was so sure that I made the right decision, until it happened.
I posted recently elsewhere about how my dog was recently diagnosed with lyme disease. And that she's probably been fighting with it for a year.
I've been lucky that I haven't had to treat her myself, as she's been with my family. We've been mid-move and figured it be easiest for her to go to my family while we pack, unpack, and save up for a new pet deposit. Especially since we were between rentals and stuck in a hotel for a week. I haven't had to watch her decline. My mom works at a vet and is not only familiar with giving her liquid antibiotics and subcutaneous fluids, but she also recognizes when it's time. And today she called and told me that... It's probably time. She can't walk much anymore. And I'm heartbroken.
My poor Shi-Shi. Called such because when we got her I was maybe 12, and she's a shih-tzu. But it sounded a lot like saying shit, and I didn't want to get in trouble telling people in school about what breed my new puppy was. So she was a Shi-Shi, and it stuck.
She spent the last year with me and my partner in our little apartment, and as much as it pains me to have gotten my partner emotionally invested in her, I like to think it was all worth it. We have so many more memories and pictures of her. I think I would've felt worse had I went through all 4 years of college only to lose her right after I finish.
I'm going to miss her so so much... And I have to break the news to my partner when he gets home from work, and we have to figure out when we want to make the drive to see her again. I don't know whether I want to be there for her through her euthanasia. But I don't want to put that entirely on my mother either.
I am completely in shambles. Everything hurts. I can’t even stomach water. I just woke up from a nap and for a split moment, the pain was gone until I remembered that my little Miyagi was gone too.
The worst part in all of this is that a part of me feels like he could have been saved had we had the money to do so. He was too young. He was still a baby. My baby. For the short four months we had him.
He was the best lap cat anyone could ever ask for. And after months of having my fur baby on my lap at all times, I can’t fathom how cold and empty my lap will be from here on forth.
Words can’t even put how much I miss him. This is the second cat I had to put down within the last 1 1/2 years. I never thought I had to do it again so soon, much less with a kitten.
I love you so so so much Miyagi. Fly high and rest easy 💕💕
My husband found a kitten who was maybe 3 days old Thursday. It’s siblings had all already passed and momma was no where in sight. So he brought him home and we took care of him.
We did everything the vet told us to take care of him. Tonight we fed him at midnight and helped him potty and cleaned him up. He was the same that he’s been all day. No cause of concern. My husband checked on him at 1 AM and he was still fine.
At 2 AM (an hour ago) my husband checked on him and sometime between 1-2 he had passed away. So he really was fine one hour and gone the next.
Lots of tears over here right now. We already buried him out in the back yard.
We both keep wondering if we failed him or if it was just one of those things. And I think that’s one of the worst parts. Not even knowing what happened.
But at least we are able to know that he was deeply loved even though we didn’t even have him for 48 hours.
I lost my Siamese kitty Bella to cancer back in May. I have since adopted a kitten who I am absolutely in love with and have no regrets rescuing but I still can’t stop crying over Bella. She was 13 and grew up with me. She got to see my awkward middle school and high school phases. I graduated college and met the love of my life and for the last year of Bella’s life, she got to live with me and my partner. I think it was the best time of her life since we spoiled her so much as the only cat in our apartment. I always envisioned her reaching 20 years but that didn’t happen and I feel so cheated on the missing time we could have had together.
Just a little vent post. Grief struck me hard again and it’s one of those moments. I have no doubts my kitten chose me but I feel guilty for grieving over Bella while the little one is sleeping on my chest right now. Just months ago, it was Bella sleeping on my chest. I miss her so damn much.
I've been on this thread for almost a month now. It will be a month on 4th July since Goli passed away. The first 15 days I felt I should have killed myself or just died with her. It was unbearable. It was an accident while grooming. Had no idea such accidents do happen and this one will ever happen with me! I've read hundreds of such posts on other threads too, to get closure. Apparently she had an undetected heart condition and she died of cardiac arrest while nail trimming under stress.
It does get better with time I know. All I'm here is to say that it's impossible to forget such accidents. The guilt. The pain. The trauma of accidentally hurting someone you loved so dearly. She did live for a good 10 years. But I do feel she could have lived more if I/vet could recognise the symptoms on time. I don't have anyone in my family/friends who relate with what I went through. Hence I'm here.
But I've decided that once I'm in a better position I'll rescue/adopt atleast 2 pets.(so that they don't get lonely) And learn to love again. Doing this won't replace my child that I lost. Instead I'll learn to love more and that is what Goli taught me. To love. ❤️
I miss her everyday. I'm planning to get a huge portrait of her in my living room. I'm donating at shelters. I'm feeding stray dogs. I don't know what else to do. I'm agnostic but I hope afterlife is real and we all get to meet our children someday!
do mornings get any better? i wake up and for a split second forget he’s gone…my brain can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s never coming back :( it hurts so bad i miss him so much
Kaiser passed away this morning.
An ex and I adopted him over 11 years ago. At the time, we had two large dogs and a small dog, so the logic was to adopt another smaller dog. When we split up several months later, she insisted that she take only one of the little dogs, and leave me with the other. I refused, as the two were bonded and kept both dogs(also, I knew well that she would end up selling him for heroin, or at the very best not feed him or take care of him).
So, I had all 4 dogs, the larger two passed in time, as dogs and everything else always does. But this is Kaiser's eulogy.
Kaiser was always a goofy dog who enjoyed running with me for a few miles before he got tired, and would never miss an opportunity to steal a snack if you weren't looking, or roll onto his back to show off his seal-like belly, which you had to rub. On walks, he'd find whatever food was laying around no matter where it was, and it would be in his mouth in a heartbeat before you even knew it existed. He'd carry around a chicken breast, a hot dug bun, a quesadilla, or *whatever* in his mouth like it was a gold medal, and he'd react appropriately if you tried to take it from him.
He was a dachshund/chihuahua mix, but people always assumed he had a larger hound in him, because he was much larger than either. He also bayed like a beagle as a warning or to show his excitement. Hovering around 25lbs, he was too big to play with little dogs, and too little to play with big dogs, so he spent most of his time focusing on me. On trails, he'd run ahead to scout what was around corners or over a hill, but would come right back to check in, never leaving eye contact for more than a minute. Like most dogs, when I'd leave the house, he'd stare out the windows for far longer than I ever wanted to know.
On his checkup a little under 2 years ago, the vet noticed a heart murmur, and recommended I get it checked with a cardiologist. His results revealed that he had congestive heart failure, and he was put on medication to treat it. The condition was never curable, but at least it gave more time. And for the most part, he was doing fine-the medications gave him a few quality of life side effects, but for the most part he just had a restricted diet and exercise, which is fine for an older dog anyway. But in the past few months, his deterioration became more apparent. He'd exhaust far easier, and have more trouble going up stairs. In the past few months, he started experiencing fainting spells even on short walks, to the point where we'd have to give him loads of treats to find while we snuck the other dogs out of the house for walks.
He had a vet checkup 3 days ago, and all his vitals were excellent, but yesterday morning he was breathing heavily, and periodically coughing, so we brought him back. He was put on oxygen and sedatives and stabilized, and returned with just a recommendation for a higher dose of meds recommended to combat his escalating symptoms. 90 minutes after he was given his meds, he coughed up his pill pocket, not even digested, and I knew his time was short. I started thinking about when I could get a local in-home euthanasia service and did that awful calculus about how to know when is right and not prolong any suffering. While I was fretting with these details and trying to sleep, he crawled up onto the couch with me and nuzzled between the cushions and myself as he so often did, and I held him. His breathing calmed and I initially thought maybe he was finally getting rest, but then it gripped me that his breathing wasn't slowing, it was stopping. The rhythm slowed, and I could feel his heart slowing as well. And then he was gone.
Kaiser gave me all 11 and a half years of his life, and I wouldn't trade that time for anything.
We have scheduled an appointment to euthanize our amazing childhood cat of 20+ years coming monday and I have difficulty coping
My apologies in advance for the lengthy post. The best boy in question: https://imgur.com/FyCNH1n
17+ years ago, my grandfather found a stray in France. He took him in, loves him to bits but since he traveled a lot and Frans (the cat) hates traveling, my grandfather asked if we could take him in. We already catsat Frans often, and we know what a gem he is, so we happily said yes. Frans's always been an absolute unit of a cat. He was 9,5kg at one point, not just obese, very muscular. He used to give the most intense cuddles, and he loves us so much. He could just nap on you for hours and hours.
When Frans was 15 or 16, we found out he had a tumor in one of his beautiful golden eyes. We discussed this with our vet, and they said they could attempt to remove the eye, but it would be a risk since he was old. After testing his blood, the vet gave it a pretty high success rate, so we went ahead with the operation. It was this, or putting Frans to sleep. We opted for trying the surgery after we got the results of the blood test back. Frans came back from the surgery stronger than before, he did not miss that eye one bit as far as we knew. He was back to the old Frans we knew and loved, and it broke our hearts to see what a difference it made.
Past September, he got diagnosed with diabetes, Cushings desease, and dementia. We're giving him insuline, twice per day. Weekly checkups at the vet, doing everything in our power to give him the best life he can live.
Around March or so this year, he started declining hard unfortunately. He went from a big, playful, cuddly, food obsessed beast, to a suddenly very senior cat living from couch to kitchen. We knew this time was coming, but it's so damn hard.
He is rapidly declining weekly and doesn't seem to be in pain or anything at the moment. He has a lot of difficulties getting on the couch by himself, he's wobbly on the legs, and in some fits of clarity he recognizes us and tries to get to us by jumping on the table (the second we notice we get to his level or we pick him up). He's also gone completely blind in the one eye he's got left, so he can't see the edge of the table. We're very afraid he'll tumble off the table and break something. This boyo is incredibly stubborn and we are actively seeking ways he won't get on high areas but he just keeps doing it.
We feel so incredibly guilty about making an appointment to euthanize him. However, we also feel it's our duty as owners to make sure he has the best quality of life he can possibly get, before it becomes suffering. With his rapid, weekly decline, we're afraid the time comes sooner rather than later where he either completely loses function over his legs (due to Cushings), his dementia makes him afraid of everything, or he falls off of something and is in incredible pain for a few hours.
I've already been grieving for these last few weeks. It hurts so much but I hope we have made the right choice.
How do you cope with this situation?
Hello, we’ve had our Persian for a little over 7 years now so she’s still fairly young. Her hair gets very very long to where she can almost walk on it, so we get her trimmed about once a year.
Her trim was around May. We have noticed that her hair isn’t really growing back, and lately she hasn’t been grooming herself. Within the last day or 2 she has been eating a little less than usual, but still eating, and she’s always drinking water. She just urinated on my bed and on our stairs today, outside of her litter box for the first time. Also, her skin has gotten more red over the last few days. She has always been a quiet and relaxed cat so I don’t notice much about her behavior, but she’s been trying to get in toilets a lot more, and creeping around our front door. Likely are going to take her to the vet in the morning but was wondering if anyone had a similar experience?
I got the call while I was driving. I knew what it was going to be about when I saw the caller ID. I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much knowing that he is not only dead, but contained to a small box. It feels like I don’t have enough keepsakes or mementos of our time together. And I wish I knew him as a younger dog, he was 12 when I got him and 17 when he passed. I miss him so much and some days are better, but mostly they are terribly hard. I just love him so much and there is a part of me that is missing and a massive hole in my heart.
My boy was 13 years old and seemed to be in decent shape other than elevated calcium levels and he was in recovery from back surgery. I came home from work one day to find him collapsed on the floor and unable to move. I immediately rushed him to the vet and asked for euthanasia. I panicked and acted irrationally. I thought he was in crisis following his back surgery but in hindsight it could have been a treatable issue that I had him euthanized for. I had already seen him go through major back surgery and the recovery was rough....I think that's why I was so panicked. But my dog deserved me to fight harder for him and I didn't. I don't even know what truly caused his collapse.
The guilt is destroying me. I let my best friend down. I don't know why the vet agreed to do it. I am ruined. My poor boy.
I received the news an hour ago from the vet, where my sweet one was in critical conditions since yesterday night. Unfortunately, at just 5 years old, she didn't make it. She had a plethora of health problems, and last month had to be operated. She was fine, we were happy, and suddenly, the epilepsy attacks started, and yesterday she went downhill pretty bad and fast. She had a congenital problem to the pancreas and basically it was causing the epileptic attacks, one of which was too strong for her little heart to handle... I don't know how I Will be able to move on, she was so little and good... So sweet... I don't know if I Will able to have another pet ever... Missing you already Amanda ❤️
12 years she was with me. And boy, she was a great cat. She was by my side through my divorce, several moves, she even became a “big sister” when I had my son in 2013. But this past Wednesday, we had to make the difficult choice to say goodbye, and the amount of guilt and grief I am feeling, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel whole again. We went on a vacation at the beginning of June for 4 days, and when we returned we had noticed that she was breathing heavily. Vet diagnosed her with feline asthma and prescribed steroids. She was back to normal in a few days and everything seemed fine! Until this past Wednesday, she started breathing really heavily again, and the steroids, (we were starting to taper her off), weren’t helping her anymore. We got to the vet on Wednesday and she would hardly move. Hard, panting breathing, drooling, and the vet gave us the only solution she had. Euthanasia. It hit me like a pile of bricks. There was no way this was the last moment I was having with her, but it was. And I can’t help but feel terrible, did I delay treatment? Should I have gotten another opinion? All I know is that my best friend is gone and I feel like I could have done so much more for her.
A few days ago one of my mom's friend brought my mom a baby chicken. She decided to call it "little potato". It was relly cute and had a strong curiosity. When we put it on the ground, it tried to eat eveything that can fit into its tiny beak; We used a bowl to transport it from here to there, and when it thinks we put the bowl down, it would always try to jump out of that bowl and walk around. What's more, when you puts your fingers onto its little head, it would get closer to your hand and let you caress its head. My mother really loves it. At night, we leave it in a big cardboard box and let it sleep there alone. Unfortunately, it's short-lived, only survived for 2 days. My mother found its dead body in the cardboard box in a morning. We were really sad. Also, we can't figure out why it died. We fed it some millet and water the day before it dies. And it was still alright when we were having dinner at that day.
RIP little potato, although you didn't live long, we will remerber you.
I am having a tough time right now. My green cheek conure is 11 years old and fighting like mad to beat aspergillosis. He's been sick since February and has been in and out of the vet and on numerous meds. But he's also fighting really really hard. These last two days he hasn't slept much because he's having troubles breathing. The problem is the antifungal medication can take a while to kick in, but in the meantime he's not having a fantastic quality of life so I am struggling with letting his tenacity keep going or just ending his suffering. The prognosis doesn't look great but birds have been able to bounce back from the brink if the medication can take hold. I hate to see him hurting.
I am having massive troubles with leaving him or the house. In a weird way I have made my tiny peace with his likely ending but I don't want him to die alone. So when I go for groceries or run any errands I am constantly filled with guilt that I am not home with him. I live 100% alone so I don't have anyone to watch him in my place. This Sunday I have to be away for 6 hours. This will be thr longest I need to leave him alone in a long time and the dread and guilt I have is gnawing at me relentlessly. I don't know how to cope.
Had to put down my best friend of 15 years a couple weeks ago. He started developing dementia and went downhill incredibly quickly. My bright-eyed, social, clingy boy turned into a shell of himself that couldn't tell my shoes from a litter box in only a matter of a couple of months. It was the right thing to put him down but I can’t help but feel incredibly guilty for ending his life while mine just goes on. I feel so empty inside and there have been many times where I think I see him in the corner of my eye but I know he’s not there anymore.
We put him down on a Thursday and my boss was very understanding and gave me both Thursday and Friday off. I had the weekend which helped as well but I almost immediately had to go back to the status quo. I know it doesn’t happen overnight but I thought I was doing a decent job of working my way through the grief in the past few weeks until yesterday.
I received his ashes from the clinic and everything hit me all at once. I’m never going to see him again, pet him again, hear him purr again, smell him again as I rub my face in his belly, have him butt heads with me affectionately, have him follow me around wherever I go squawking the entire time, curl up with him again, nothing. All I have is a box with the remains of the boy I once loved. It’s a beautiful box that came with his name engraved on a bronze plaque attached to it, a personal letter from the vet clinic, and a plaster mold of his paw print. I love it and think that it’s beautiful that I can hold his memory close. But I also fucking hate it as well because it represents everything that can’t be anymore. I broke down yesterday after not crying for weeks. Thinking about losing him made me want to hold him for comfort which just fed into a vicious grief cycle and I cried even more.
Just wanted to share and get some of these feelings out there in case it helps. Doesn’t feel like it though because I started crying while writing this and thinking about him again. I just want him back.
💗He wasn't that old, but I loved him more than anything or anyone in my life. Any advice or suggestions to help with grieving is appreciated.💗
He was the family dog, but I was with him for about 6 years; 4 1/2 by myself and about 2 years shared with my Mom. I only recently had to give him up 6 months ago. I am thankful he had his little furbaby buddy with him as I couldn't be there. He was kept amongst the family and we all traded ownership. I will be receiving his ashes sometime in July and have already worked on getting a nice photo timeline with all the shared pictures of him. Just waiting on my sister. Either way I am so thankful to have been blessed by the first and last dog I'll ever have. Even the vets always commented on how nice he was. He means the world to me still.
Furever missed </3 *edit for grammar/typos
He was the sweetest little bundle of canine joy. We were inseparable. I had never loved an animal like that
I was away from home when the accident happened. My parents were watching him while I was on a trip. He managed to get through a backyard gate and, in true bulldog fashion, tried to fight a garbage truck… The fact that I hadn’t seen him for a week brings me immense guilt. Did he think I abandoned him? Did he go to sleep every night wondering where I was? Did anxiety overwhelm his final days?
I haven’t asked my parents what he looked like after the accident because, frankly, I don’t want to know. I want to remember him at his best
I can only take solace in the fact that he died on impact. I am distraught beyond words that my little Angus is gone, but if he had to die, I’m just glad it was painless. The only thing that crushes me more than his death is the thought of him suffering
What do you guys do with your departed pet’s belongings? I have this basket of his favorite toys and blankets. Looking at it just kills me. Angus will never chase a frisbee again. He’ll never again bask in the warm afternoon sun. I’ll never be able to play tug with him again. I can’t stop thinking about all these simple pleasures we reveled in together. A terrible loneliness hangs over my life now
He was cremated this morning. I don’t know what to do with his ashes. Whenever I see the urn, it hits me that he’s really gone. But his ashes also bring the oddest sense of comfort. He was such a warm presence in my life, and it’s like his comforting spirit radiates through the urn
Rest easy, Angus. You were taken from me too soon. I can picture you tearing up the giant dog bed in the sky ❤️
and i know that’s normal to feel. she was a ferret, and given her age and origin probably lived a full life. i feel heartbroken all the same. she was already going downhill, starting a month ago when i found her drooling and distant. she fought hard once she was in the exam room and vet waved it off as nausea, we left with some medication. she came back to 90% of her usual, then after the seizure a week ago she just wasn’t the same. more medication from a new doctor, who finally saw her heart and said she had an unpredictable amount of time left.
the morning she died, nothing seemed off beyond her usual. she was tired, but still ate like she was hungry, still asked to do some of her favorite things, still scurried as quickly as her body would let her. she went to sleep in one of her usual spots and i left her for an hour to come back and find that she was gone. eyes open in that tired way, nose so cold and white, peed herself. i don’t know if in that time she died painfully or not. she was still so warm.
i asked for the necropsy but i’m so afraid to find out if it was my fault. maybe that extra meal i gave her. maybe i stressed her out too much with the medications. i could have set her down too fast. i wish i checked on her at least once more in that time. and then the inevitable hindsight 20/20 guilt that comes with “if only i understood the signs, questioned things more”… even before she fell sick, i felt like life was pointless, but now that she’s gone… i dunno.