Goodbye my Friend

“Huh??”

“talking about the pic marko.
i was just tryin to make him smile.”

“sorry about the loss of a beloved pet. She looks well loved”

“I'm sorry. :(”

“what a cutie, sorry Violin”

“I hate this thread.

Sorry to hear this.”

“i'm sorry violin. it sucks to lose your buddy.”

“Sorry Violin. Looks like she was a great dog.”

“Sorry to hear that Vio.”

“She is a verry perty gerl. I wish i wuld met her in the woods and played gemmedat and tawk a bout boys.”

“:(

How recent was this? Are you planning on getting another?”

“Condolences

Dogs have always been a part of my life whether they were mine or family members.

It always hurts to say goodbye to a faithful pack member.
last edited: 11/07/08 8:08:36 PM”

“:( Sorry to hear that, HUGS”

“Sorry to hear about your loss, Violin. Our pets are members of the family and losing one of them is hard. I still think about Merlin every day, even though it was too years ago that he passed away.”

“Sorry to hear this news.”

“So sorry for your loss Violin. :(”

“Thanks for your kind words.

Yeah MarkO, she's the one who played mother to the puppy that we got a couple of years ago. He's grown into a big, wonderful dog. We got him to ease the pain of losing her as it didn't appear that she was long for the world at that time. Having an energetic playmate gave her a new lease on life. He's feeling the loss as much as any of us.

She was a tough old lady who still loved to take walks in spite of the arthritis. She was diagnosed with congestive heart failure about 2 weeks ago. The reduced blood flow had caused her other organs to deteriorate, especially her kidneys so she was feeling like crap. We decided yesterday that she had suffered enough.

We'd hoped she would make it to Christmas because she really loved family holidays. She always joined in singing "Happy Birthday".

She'll be missed.



_{PS - Mapleleaf: I emailed those photos to you of me wearing only a Santa hat. Make sure you're not eating when you open them.}”

“Really sorry to hear it Vman. She looks like a well loved dog. It's hard to watch their quality of life deteriorate.”

“A number of years ago. I think 1998 or something my "buddy" Daisy (Chesapeake Bay Retriever) who I had rescued from Death Row in Charleston SC crossed Rainbow Bridge.

I was devastated. When I worked at night she would sleep on the living room floor looking at the door. When I was home at night she was nestled between my knees snoozing contently. Eventually time, and age wore on her. She lost control of her bowels and was pretty much blind.

That morning I took her to the vet, made the difficult decision to put her down. I think I came her to this site that day just looking for release.

AmyG made a suggestion about the Chesapeake Bay Retriever's Rescue group. A few weeks later, on the only weekend I would have off in 2 months my son and I made a drive to Virginia to get Morgan. When we arrived we were shown this female who had been saved by the skin of her teeth. She was a dwarf chessie (about half the size of the normal female). The next day we took her home. She was still in shock from abuse, 6 months in a no kill shelter in a cage with three dogs..meant for one. When I went to scratch her ears she almost bit me...then she stopped and got this,"WOW this is kinda nice."

That by the way would parlay into driving all over the southeast rescuing and adopting out dogs. Plus it would give me three other chessies one of which allegedly could not be adopted out.

Anyway, back to the story. When I got home that evening I had to go to work she sat in the living room and when the kids tried to feed her she snapped at them.

The next afternoon I get home (she is still in the floor though she had gone out for the required potty breaks) I put some food down for her (with a doggie downer in it to mellow her out). That night I coaxed her into the bedroom, put her on the bed (we would find out later she could have jumped on the bed, but what the hell she was content with me boosting her up there).

She sat STARK up for thirty minutes...then I heard a sigh and she put her head on my calf and went to sleep. Over the past 10 years we learned that she was not actually two years old as we were led to believe but between 4 and 6 when we got her.

Not a great trail dog (short stubby legs and bad hips do not a hiker make), she liked to hang out at the campfire, mooch food, and wander within eye range. Our solo camping trips together got me through a bad separation, graduate school, and the loss of some really close friends.

Two years ago I decided it would be best if she moved to the farm with me since there were just two steps to the yard. I installed a handicap ramp for her to waddle down. Each night I would take the dogs out, throw the ball, and she would do her thing. A month ago she started having accidents in the house. While she never really JUMPED (more like a wierd HOPPY manuver) she was always bright eyed and enjoyed playing. Recently she can barely waddle out the back door, and down the ramp. Frequently she cristens the ramp as she goes down.

Sadly last night it became apparent that her bowel control is pretty much gone. Her eyes once so bright and happy are kinda dull. It is obvious she is in some pain but she never really showed pain like a normal dog.

SO....Tomorrow morning, I will get up (call Headquarters and tell them I will be a bit late) and take my buddy of 10 great years to the last round up. The creamtorium will take her away...I will climb in my truck (probably sobbing like a baby) and drive 30 minutes to work. I will get out, put on my game face and know that we gave an unwanted baby 10 years of the life of riley (which since I have riley's credit card was pretty easy).

Years ago one of my friends explained why he didn't own pets. He said,"You get to love and cherish them... then they die."

I looked at him and replied, "UM you know people do that too."”

“XL I am so sorry ( I hate this thread)
some people would have put the pooch out the door at the first snap, but you saw something in her and you gave her a wonderful life.peace with you Dan and your family, my heart goes out to you.
you have my email if you want to talk.....”

“Sorry man!”

“Heartbreaking”

“My thoughts are with you, XL.”

“Just got a call from one of my friends who is on duty out that way...he checked in on her and she was just kinda laying there....so the appointment has been moved for noonish.

DORK....One of the truly great things I have learned over the years is that it is NOT what happens but how you respond to it.

Often we fear loss becuase we feel so overwhelmed by the enormity of it. But in simple terms...(and I have seen this actually happen a couple times) when the true spirit of that being leaves the shell. There really is nothing there. Morgan's spirit saved many lives. THAT counts.”

“Sorry, XL, that's always hard. I've taken dogs to the vet to be put down, but last time I did the deed myself, while the dog was comfortably at home, after a good steak dinner and a lot of loving affection. I buried her deep in the flower garden. If/when I have to do it again, I'm going to do it myself.
last edited: 2/06/09 7:44:08 AM”

“XL knowing when it is time can be the hardest part for us humans.
I always told my customers who were having a hard time with it to think of it this way

are you keeping them alive for you or them?

I got lot's of hugs from that because it made them think about it they ALL ended up doing the right thing.”

“Sorry to hear that XL.”

“Sorry about your loss Dan. Sounds like she had a great life with you. I am sure there is another baby waiting for you to come find her.”

“My condolences XL. Glad you two had each other for as long as you did.”

“CD...still have three chessies, a jack russel and a georgia lap dog”

“:( I'm sorry, XL.”

“Better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all.

Sorry about your loss.”

“Oh when I got to the vet my pup was just laying on the floor. She did try mightily to get up to see daddy. She eventually got to me so we could cuddle and talk.

Took her into the back, they gave her a sedative, then injected the meds. She just stopped breathing. Very peaceful. She spent the first four to seven years of her life alone more or less...the last ten were pretty good.”

“A bummer!

But it leaves the way for a new dog. Good luck.
last edited: 2/06/09 11:27:10 AM”

“Xl, I am surpirsed they allowed you to stay with her. we used to make people wait till it was over. it can be extremely dramactic for the dog and for the parents to watch.”

“Sorry XL. I'm glad you got to hold her as she passed on.”

“Our vet allowed us to stay with Shelby as they put her down.

I did not think it was going to hard, however it was the worst thing I have ever been through.”

“Sorry, bro.”

“our chihuahua (some 11 years old) was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago. they give her 6 months. the therapy was so expensive as to be unbelievable. i feel like a cad for not paying for the treatments, especially when they tell me the success rate is so high... but i just don't have the money. so we are treating her with medicine that is supposed to "shrink" the tumor, hoping it will become defined enough for surgery to remove it. it's on her ribs (sort of a lump) and there isn't enough tissue clearance for it to be removed (or so the vet told us).

i bought luna as a birthday gift for my wife and she has grown up with our kids. my kids have never known a time without her. she sleeps a lot these days and is pretty white in the face, but we figured we would have a lot more time with her.

that's the tough thing about dogs. it's a natural consequence of them having a shorter life span. you take them into your life and love them intensely but must do so knowing you will have to some day accept their passing. every time i go through this i say, "never again." then i see some dog in a shelter somewhere and it starts all over again.

take care xl. i wish you the best.”

“it's the dash that counts.

sorry Dan.”

“My heart goes out to you, man.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and
vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong
again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times
gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small
thing: they each miss someone very special, someone who was left
behind.”

“XL...I'm so sorry...that is soooo sad.... :(”

“That blows. Sorry.”

“Just read this. That was a great post about a terrible thing XL. Sounds like you've put a lot of love and care into the lives of some dogs who would otherwise have had pretty crappy lives. Sad story though.

Yogi, its a terrible choice to make. Who can judge you for it, though? There are people who at an equivalent age choose not to go through the most agressive treatments despite high success rates.”

“Yogi, years ago I had an inspector at my office when I first arrived. This guy had run off from home at 17 and lied about his age to enlist in the Army in World War II. His birthday was June 6. He had his 18th Birthday parachuting into France on D-Day. He was captured two days later and survived for about 6 weeks in a POW camp until the Allies began their break out. He and his friends escaped and rejoined the American Troops to fight across Europe.

After years of service in the military and in civilian life he was diagnosed with aggressive Brain Cancer. After the first treatment and the subsequent recovery he asked to go back to work. About six weeks later they discovered the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes and his pancreas. He was sitting in the Doctor's office while the described the stuff they were going to need to do and he stopped them and said,"Know what, I have had a hell of a fun life. And you know its the lucky man who can decide his own fate. I have just decided that this was a good run, but it is gonna end."

He denied any addition care (other than pain medication) and he died about six weeks later.

I sometime wonder if we spend too much damn time trying to extend life rather than letting nature, as it will, eventually win.”

“Today was the most horribly beautiful day of my life. Bitter-sweet doesn't even begin to describe my day. In fact, bitter-sweet is an insulting clique`.

My day was beautiful as I sat and gently stroked my mother's arm on Mother's Day. My sister in-law gently strokes her face and hair as she speaks sweet words to our mother, on this, her special day. To anyone who didn't know our my mother she probably looks terrible but to us she is the absolute perfection of peace. She would be so embarrassed as to how bad her hair looks so I brush it for her to save her the indignity.

The horrible part of this beautiful scene is that I had to see my father, so lost and brokenhearted before coming into the room. His life is over. Never to be the same again. To see this man, who you were lucky to get a hug from once in five years and "I love you too." was always implied, reduced to to his present self was just too horrible to behold. A strong, proud man reduced to emotional jelly.

But at the same time my heart leaps for joy for my mother, who faced many horrible diabetic educed horrors. The first and foremost of which was the forthcoming amputation of her legs. Mom got off light.

Having worked in the hospice field for two years now I had given up on the idea of a 'perfect death'. Oh sure we all like to think we'll live to be that perfect age, go to bed one night and die in our sleep. I have found this to be utter horse #&%!$. There is no perfect death. If you are blessed to have a long life you end up dying in a hospital bed and losing your bowels in an adult diaper. If you don't face the diaper clad hospital bed you end up collapsing on the floor staring at the ceiling with regrets and feelings unfulfilled. Either way the event receives a huge "Just one more day...".

But today my faith in the perfect death has been completely restored. My mother had the perfect death today. She went to bed last night feeling like #&%!$, I'm sure. So tired. So sleepy from the required Vicodin. When they came to take her away they asked all the hard questions they ask of the spouses of the ill prepared, which is basically, "What'do we do with her?". I see that my father is completely lost and helpless at this point. I throw in what I know about my mother and with my brothers, we come up with a macabre recipe for a funeral arrangement. No viewing, cremation, simple service for the family. Best of all she will be be cremated in her 20 year old LL Bean Christmas nightgown she so dearly loved. Nothing more could have pleased Mom.

The day is horrible again as I am asked to leave my mother and be with my father once again as "I am the best at this kind of thing". Little do my siblings know I consider this my weakest strength of hospice care. I was always #&%!$ty at platitudes and cheap comforting words. "They're in a better place now." What a load of #&%!$! Their entire world just crashed in and they want to know why the world has continued to to go on even though their world has just ended.

If fact my general comfort to spouses and families of the dearly departed are more altruistic than mystic. "This sucks. It's not fair and it's the hardest thing you will ever do in your life. But we will get through because there is no other choice.", is what I say. Most people have a strong appreciation for my honest words and understanding.

I tell my dad these same tried and tested words but he is in ' the inconsolable zone'. That space where life has ended and every day from there on will never be the same or as sweet because a piece of you has died. I weep because I know the long and lonely road ahead of him known as "the health grieving process". Why does it take so long to simply stop feeling as if you're dying too?

Do I feel bad for my mother, on this, her special day? Not on your life! Like the smart one who gets up and walks out on the #&%!$ty movie you are still waiting to get good. She is off the hook. She cut her losses and left the rest of us hoping and praying that this just might be the role Keanu Reeves makes great.

My proud father is the emotional flotsam and jetsam. The protector. The Caregiver. The one single person tasked to take care of the queen. The social glue of our whole family. In his mind he has failed at the one single purpose he has in life; to take care of his beloved wife. Little does he know he has succeeded far and above all expectations.

In the over arching view of it all everything is so typical. The spouse escaping before the other. The spouse left feeling guilty and alone. The family left helplessly saying, "If there's anything we can do...", knowing that anything they have to offer is a penance in comparison to the pain of having half a soul ripped from them. Yet it is a token politely and gratefully received, none the less.

Today. Mother's Day, of all days, is the most horribly beautiful day of my life. As with all insurmountable days of my life...there are no words. Yet with all Mom has taught me everything becomes surmountable. Thank you Mother. Thank you mentor. Thank you friend.
last edited: 5/11/09 12:44:19 AM”

“Nigal I am sorry for your loss.
All I can say is: Thank you for sharing those wonderful words and thoughts with us. It is the most touching and breathtakingly honest writing that I have read in a long time.
Thanks Nigal. My thoughts are with you. Hope to meet you one day on the trail.

Karin”

“peace to you nigal.”

“I am so sorry for your loss Nigal. Your mother was obviously very lucky to have your for her son.”