Love and Loss of a Pet: Let’s Write and Honor Together
Caramel, after the big surgery and before the big decline: for a few weeks, back to some kind of normal
I would like to feature other people’s stories of love and loss of a pet on my blog. I have read some beautiful and very touching anecdotes. If you would like to share your story, please leave a comment or contact me in email or message and I will transfer the story over.
Thanks to Stuyvesant Town rules…I never had a pet. That is, until I got married at age 21 and moved to the Adirondaks. We received a white german shepherd as a gift…only a puppy. It was love at first sight. He was my baby. He had distemper at one point and almost died. I couldn’t stop crying until I found out the doctor was able to save him. Coming from the city and having to give up a wonderful job in NYC, we decided the Adirondaks weren’t for us. We rented a studio apartment In Yonkers and I realized it would not be fair to have “Kegger” cooped up in an apartment all day while we worked so we gave him to a farmer who had 9 children. My big mistake was to drive by on our way back to NYC. He picked up our scent in our orange VW and ran after us all the way to the gate of the farm. Cried all the way home. We cannot have a dog where we live now and to be honest…I get too attached and couldn’t go through the separation again. I have fond memories of Kegger.
Written by my friend, Jaqui whom I met blogging more than 10 years ago:
Magique was a rescue Labraoodle. She came into a two dog and three dog family and had never known how to be an only dog. So when Mariah, the older shepherd, and much later, Mardi Gras, the standard poodle died, she was lost. So, I began taking in friend’s dogs to care for when they were on vacation. She was a brilliant hostess and trained all to use the dog door and beg for treats.
I lost her at 15 and a half and named my doggie vacay yard, Dog Gone Park. She is the dog who is gone even if her name does not appear on the welcome sign.
And because there is always more love to give I rescued another dog – BoBear.”
Jacqui Binford-Bell
Binford-Bell Studio
Black Lake, New Mexico
Written by my friend, Phyllis, who is a childhood friend found in adulthood.
“Hi, Sue – just wanted to reach out to you again and say how sorry I am that little Caramel is now over the Rainbow Bridge. Thank you for sharing the details every step of the way, so that we all got to know her a little better. And in the meantime, we also got to know the wonderful caregivers you had for her – yourself at the top of that list – and I had never before heard of a pet being delivered home by the vet – what special people they are.
We had to put our little Pepper down about two months ago, at the age of 16. I always said he was half dog, half cat, because he had traits of both. You can see in the second photo below where he would perch on the top of our couch – much like a cat would.
We had our medical regimen in recent years, and dogs with those bulbous eyes tend to get problems later in life. Pepper was no exception. He was taking drops multiple times a day for the past five-plus years. On bad days he hated it, and on good days he merely tolerated it, though he would not let you exceed a certain number of drops before putting up a fight. From his actions towards the end, I started to think that if he could speak, he would simply say “I’ve had enough.”
The end went quickly too, as yours did. His normal weight was 15 pounds, and he was at a make-the-vet-uncomfortable 11 pounds his last day. The percentage variation of weight loss was too pronounced for such a little guy. He did drink a lot of water, so much so, that I thought perhaps diabetes was in the mix with all his other ailments – which included dementia….at times there was no consoling him, he was so disoriented. But that last day, he took not one morsel of food or water. We had already had the appointment with the vet scheduled, and it’s as if he knew.
They know, oh how they know.
Little Caramel did not want to leave you. The sweet little thing went through so much in order to stay with you and never let go. You’ve had the routine of caring for her, coming in the house, starting towards her bowl or her area to tend to the next need. I’m going through the same thing. I always took Pepper out the last thing before leaving the house, and driving home would look forward to being with him and letting him out immediately, so that he would not have an accident at his age.
You’re right about the grief coming and going. Emotions can be all over the place. When Pepper would have me standing in the backyard at 2 am because he was fussing and crying (dementia at work, I thought perhaps he had to relieve himself), I used to think there will be a day when I get restful sleep again. Then when the end was near, I started thinking about missing those quiet times, looking at the moon and the stars, just the two of us, and listening to the quiet of the night. The back and forth. I guess it’s something that’s necessary to go through, and I wouldn’t want to shorten it … it shows the tremendous impact they have/had on our lives. Pepper is still “there.” His bed has not been moved. I’m just not ready yet.
Our pets continue to live through us every day. Maybe if we’re lucky, we receive a little sign from Heaven that they’re okay.
Your little kitty is whole and healthy again, reunited with her little ones, and can devote her full time to watching over you now.
Hugs to you…..again, thank you for being you and sharing your deepest thoughts about our most loyal friends. It’s awful what we go through for our pets, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Love,
245
P.S. Hubby says I can go outside and stand in the backyard in the middle of the night anytime I want. 🙂
Sent to me by my friend Ellie whom I met about 10 years ago at our fave Jazz concerts with Jimmy Heath:
Hello Sue: I don’t know what to say, but my heart goes out to you. As a very young child growing up in the south we had an ugly mutt but I don’t recall how he became “ours.” We lived in a wooden house that sat high from the ground and “Sharkey” stayed under the house. As long as I live I will always remember Sharkey escorting my grandmother and me to church every Sunday morning. He would enter the church with us. While grandma and I walked to grandma’s favorite pew, Sharkey would lay down under the last pew in the back of the church. When service was over, Sharkey would follow us out of church and escort us back home. Sharkey stayed under our house but came outside when we wanted to feed him. One day, as I was holding his plate of food and calling him, he didn’t move; just wagged his tail. The next morning he was dead. After we stopped crying, we buried him at the back of our garden. We never did find out what had happened to Sharkey but told ourselves that he must have gotten hold of bad food from someone in our neighborhood. We really loved that dog.
Stay strong.
Love……….Ellie”
Written by my dear friend Daniella in Cervo, Italia where heaven meets earth.
I still hurt remembering Shaba’s last hours, her little, scruffy, skeletal body, going to her bowls, but unable to either eat or drink. She was coming to me as if asking for help, but all I could do was hold and cuddle her, and softly call her name. Finally she got to her basket, but could only lift her upper body into it. A few minutes later I tried to make her more comfortable, but she didn’t respond. Her eyes wide open, she was staring into nothingness. I wrapped her into my track suit jacket and held her in my arms I don’t know for how long, while hubby dug a hole in the garden, close to our dog’s grave. I kissed her one last time and lay her in the new grave. There’s been a Shaba shaped hole in my heart since.
Written by my dear friend Nan K. who went to Seward Park H.S. with me. We are still aged 15.
My English Springer Spaniel, Maggie was a rescue (as were all my fur babies).
She came to me when her human died, and no family members could keep her. She was 7 when I got her, and the sweetest girl you’d ever meet.
As she got older, she developed kidney problems, and her medications were quite expensive. Fortunately, I found a legitimate Canadian pharmacy.
My faithful friend loved to be 15+ years old. She never showed her discomfort, but on a Saturday after Thanksgiving, I left to go shopping, and when I got home, she was gone. 😣
She, along with my other dog and 2 cats, are buried here in my backyard forever with my husband and me.
I wasn’t as lucky with either cat. At one point I had to make the heartbreaking decision to let them go. I fully sympathize with you. It’s easily the hardest choice to have to make.