Do you remember your first pet that died?
From: Dr Andrew Jones
Author: Veterinary Secrets Revealed
Website: http://www.theonlinevet.com
Re: Do you remember your first pet that died?
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Hello fellow readers.
I was having a conversation with a new client ( John)
who wasn’t a ‘pet person’- he never could understand
why people do so many crazy things for their pets.
He said this all changed when he got a cat.. ( Garfield)
He became really attached to his cat. He was coming home,
and greeting his cat before greeting his ‘human’ family.
He was hanging out in specialty pet stores and coming home
with cat presents.
Sound familiar?
Lewis and Cleo ( My pets who are part of my family)- have a pile
of toys, trinkets etc..
Lewis spends way more time with me than anyone else- he goes
to work with me, goes for walks, runs and mountain bikes with
me, and is usually sleeping either in or near our bed..
Cleo has figured out how to wake me up early for more attention-
he walks on my head or scratches the wall- and I get up every time.
Who is in control here?
I couldn’t imagine my life without pets.
John called me after his cat Garfield died suddenly at home.
He was overwhelmed with grief- and he couldn’t understand why.
He said that the loss of his big orange cat Garfield, was hitting
him harder than losing his grandparents.
WOW.
I can relate.
As a child, our first family dog ( Horace) a pug, was run over when I was
8- My entire family, including my father, were heartbroken.
I still remember the exact moment it happened.
More recently my last dog Hoochie died of Spleen Cancer- that feels like it
just happened- and that was now 5 years ago.
Pets make a HUGE emotional impact on us- and I see this EVERY day
in my life and in my Veterinary Practice.
All this emotion comes out when a beloved pet dies- This is
one experience that I really would rather Never have to happen.
Enjoy your pets today.
Take your dog for that extra long dog walk.
Give your cat more attention than usual-
They give us SO much unconditional love- appreciate them while you
can.
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P.S. I would love to hear about some of your stories- including
your first pets. Please make a posting on my blog here.
P.P.S. I am preparing for a Special Sa**le to support my local
Animal Shelter- Second Chance. It’s been 1 year since I have had
a special to help the Shelter – and they could really use the ‘
help now. The dogs and cats keep coming in- so many in fact that
they are having to turn some away. We are wanting to expand the
Shelter – more space means More pets that we can take in and adopt.
Stay tuned for an announcment next week.
It’s Your Pet…Heal Them At Home!
Best Wishes,
Dr Andrew Jones, DVM
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I remember my first dog Spike. He was only a mutt but he saved us from a housefire. He was only a few months old and he was in a box beside our bed and he wouldn’t stop whining. Needing our sleep, we kept telling him to keep quiet. Finally we got out of bed and we were enveloped in smoke. He saved us from a fire. I remember all my dogs, we’ve never had kids. In total , we have had 7 dogs over 32 years and it doesn’t get any easier when they pass away. My last Yorkie, Tessie died in January and I’m still grieving. All my dogs are buried at home and that’s a good thing.
Jean
Dr. Jones, this quote was sent to us after we had loast our beloved 13yr old Precious Yorkie. She was the love of our life.
“Dogs come into our lives to teach us about love…..they depart to teach us about loss. A new dog never replaces an old dog; it merely expands the heart. If you have loved many dogs, your heart is very big.”
Erica Jong
Love your messages (I look forward to them)
I think it’s because of the unconditional love they give so freely to us that we get so attached to them. And the fact that they are so non-judgemental.
My first pet was a cat which had to be put down when I was about 8 years old. it was my best 9and at times felt like my only) friend. I was so heart broken, I think it ranks as one of those traunmatic events that impacts on one’s psychological development!
Thank you Andrew for the reminder. I will make a pledge to let my dog take as long as she likes sniffing those delicious smells when we go for our (sorry – HER) walks. She’s 16, I need to remember to make the most of the time we have left.
Sue
ARRRGgghhh. Wish I could include photo of my big, orange Maine Coon cat, 19 lb.er, Butterball, obviously. Died Jan.15, 2007, from canned pet food. He was 16 yrs old, and I have pic of my son holding him while he was still in placental sac.
He survived 11 moves, from urban area to swamp back to urban to country. He is buried under a huge oak tree and I sing his favorite song when I walk by, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” After a couple of moves, I had to leave him behind at neighbors, when I’d manage to get by or go to get him, I’d have to sit outside and sing that for at least 40 mins to get him to come to me…PUNISHMENT.
I have had many, many pets over the years, of all kinds, but he has a special place because for a while, he was about the only family my son and I had. Rarely a day goes by that he doesn’t come to mind.
I can not bear to see pics of tabbies, now even hear of them.
Jordan was not my first cat but he certainly made the most impact on my life. He came into my life my sophomore year of high school and he had to leave my life last year in May. So for 18 years we had a routine and even now I find myself tearing up about it. After doing the same things every day for 18 years it comes to a deep shock (especially when you have to make the decision to put him down)to realize how much of an impact your animal has made on your life. I miss Jordan everyday when he is not there when I blow dry my hair and at night there is no one on the edge of the bathtub getting his tail in the water and swishing it around. I wonder if it will take 18 years to get used to him being gone.
I remember my first dog Jill, a dachshund I was nine years old when she came into my life. Jill was everything to me. I would take her in my bike carrier when the neighbourhood kids and I took off for the day. I went to boarding school when I was 13 and only saw her on holidays. When I was 17 Mum and Dad informed me they had given her away. I still remember the pain on that day. I have had five horses and four more dogs (all dachshunds) since then. I can’t imagine being without a dog. Dougal died last August and I still cry over losing him. He was a very laid back guy, would ask me every morning how he could please me. Luckily I have Jesse, 4 years old, but she has many medical problems plus a bulging disc which worries me. I am giving her the best life I can. Pat
I’ve had animals all my life…all kinds-as a child, a bird, fish, turtles and dogs, as an adult CATS (& lots of ’em). Strange because I took their deaths better when I was a child. I somehow accepted they went onto a better place.
At one point my mom was very ill and my father had to leave us with a (former) neighbor while she was in the hospital. I was there several months. They had a dog they adored…a little brown terrier/chihuaha mix that looked like a 12″ reindeer minus the horns. I loved that dog so much that about a month after I was able to return home, we got a call asking if we wanted their dog. They said that since I’d left she would lay on my bed and whine all day and was even refusing to eat. The didn’t think she’d last if I didn’t take her ‘cos she wasn’t getting any more accustomed to my absence.
Naturally I was overjoyed, but sadly, my father was old fashioned and would not let her sleep with me (which she was used to…She’d sleep in the small of my back). He demanded that dogs belong in the basement overnight. When I tried to convince him otherwise (he was very European and the fathers word was to be unquestioned and FINAL) he said it was the basement or OUTSIDE for her.
At one point he tied her outside and made her stay there for months, insisting dogs BELONG outside. (Don’t ask me why he suddenly decided this; she never did ANYTHING but love everyone). When it got cold I insisted she come in (at least to the basement) overnight and he threw me out too, saying, “If you want to be with her so bad then YOU stay out there too.” Well, stubborn as I was, I stayed out until 10:30pm (in a very COLD late October/November night). Finally my mom opened the door and whispered, “All right, he finally fell asleep, now get in here.” I still wouldn’t come in without my dog. She reprimanded me for being so stubborn and said, “Then quick put her in the basement and be QUIET..if he (my dad) wakes up, there will be hell to pay” (which I knew of all too well).
The odd thing is that about a year later she died. My mom and sis were afraid to tell me because I was that close to her, yet when I heard, I had NO reaction. I remember thinking, “Thank you God for getting her OUT of here!” It didn’t even bother me that (my sister told me) my mom put her in a garbage bag out back
and she’d been taken away. I stoically replied..that’s only her body, her spirit is long gone. It’s OK.
Yet when the 1st cat I’d gotten as an adult died, I went to pieces. (My husband referred to this cat as my “appendage” and said the only way you’ll ever get that cat away from you is to have him surgically removed” – he was ALWAYS with me…sitting ON me if I was still, if I was sitting but doing something and couldn’t have him on my lap, he’d lay next to me and either rest his head or his feet on me. It could be 100 degrees outside and it didn’t matter to him…I even used to get heat rashes from falling asleep and having him against me. Even a year later I was walking thru a pet store and they had cats for adoption up front. I walked past and saw one that looked like the one I had lost and I immediately burst into tears, which I felt awful about because there were tons of little children who must have been frightened by my reaction. I had to leave the store. Today, 10 years later, I can remember him joyously and miss him, but not hurt anymore.
Forwarding to more recent years, 6 months ago I lost the “love” of my life. The closest, dearest friend I ever had -this cat was not LOVED more than the others, but we were SOOOO compatable. I think in his 16 yrs with us I had to yell at him maybe 5 times and at least 3 of those times I later found out it was *I* who was in the wrong. He made it possible for me to get beyond the death of that 1st cat, survive MANY serious and seemingly impossible family problems including my fathers 7 yr battle with cancer and his eventual death, my stepmom’s suing us to try to keep everything my parents had, etc, etc… He was the bravest, sweetest, smartest, most incredible breathing creature I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing and I admired and adored him
…and I still cry -almost daily- over him, sobbing at least twice a month. There is a gaping hole in my heart and it’s hard for me to even comprehend how the seasons can change and life can blossom without him in it. It’s like my whole world still exists, but in black and white.
Remember black and white TVs? You enjoyed watching them, but once you saw things in COLOR, you could still appreciate them, but it just was NOT the same. That’s how it is now. (And I’ve always been a multicat household, so all along I’ve had others with me….my “entourage” my husband calls them ‘cos they follow me everywhere. LOL.
YUP..it was easier losing my dad (which I took HARD…even developed pneumonia from all the crying/distress). I guess we SEE our parents age or become gravely ill and KNOW on some level that although it hurts, they will die as humans only live so many years; it’s a given. It’s hard to relate to 16-20 yrs being the END of the life of an animalthough..it seems way too short. We love them like our children and if our kids all died in their teenage years, we would naturally find it devastating. Of course, again, my husband said I could have had 100 years with this last cat and it would not have been enough….he definitely WAS my joy and my heart.
Soooo…bet you’re sorry you asked now after my trip down memory lane…
God bless!
The family got a dashound when I was 8. He soon became my dog. When I went off to college he was out one day and was hit a glancing blow by a car. He “recovered” and waited for me to come home from college that summer. We had a joyous reunion. About 4 weeks later he had a shaking fit. I called my parents and rushed him to the vet. The vet said there was trama to his brain from the accident so I had to put him to sleep. He will always have that special “first” place in my heart.
I had developed a real relationship with “Marc Antony”, a feral born cat. I brought him in when he was two years old after he got into a fight with another feral tomcat. He recovered, but after spending so much money at the vet, I told my Mom that he was staying in.
I had him neutered, and shortly thereafter he suddenly got seriously ill again and was diagnosed with HCM (hypertrophic cardiomyopathy) and given two months to live…long story short, with the help of a wonderful vet, a great guy who owns a store that helps with alternative meds and my Mom, who helped with him while I was at work, he lived for three years. He would jump up on the kitchen table when it was time to take his medications and was just an all around great cat.
He ruled the house with a benificent attitude that was a joy to see. We also had four kittens from his sister (Cleopatra) who had been killed by a car on a busy street around the corner from us (a couple of the babies, if not all, could have been his).
One evening when it was time for his meds, he jumped up on the table and and in an instant became paralyzed in the rear (I had been forwarned of this danger, it was a femoral clot) and I had to have him euthanized, a horrible
‘first’ for me. (Coincidentally, this was at the same emergency vet hospital, where we had taken him when he first became so very ill with the HCM and they had helped saved his life.) I was absolutely devastated! I still almost can’t get over it; four years later…the pain is still there.
I have even more cats now and another beautiful, smart, loving, feral born adult male, I just brought in last September.
But no one can replace ‘Mr. Kitty’, my name for Marc Antony. I miss him dearly still, and he will always hold a very special place in my heart.
Last Sunday (06/01/2008) , we just lost our most precious 11-1/2 year old dog named Other-One, whom we fostered and adopted from Humane Society. We took him to the vet on Friday (05/30/2008) and told our doctor about the abnormal size of our dog’s belly. How worried I was about the size. He did a CBC and we asked them to do a urinalysis. He was very anemic and lethargic. CBC result showed high count of white blood cells, low hematocrit and hemoglobin, high in bilirubin. He did 2 X-rays but the X-rays were cloudy and unclear that he said he cannot make a decision of what the problem is. He recommended a sonogram but it will have to wait Monday or Tuesday.And he was also worried about the size of the belly. He prescribed an anti-vomit drug and sent us home. He thought it could be a splenic tumor or something. I called him on Saturday asking about the sonogram., and articles I found on the internet about hemangiosarcoma, hemolytic anemia, etc. He said, you’re not reading those vet columm? He mentioned about doing it on Tuesday, I told him, this can’t wait any longer and said that he will call Dr. Hayes to do it on Monday.
On Sunday, we took Other-One on his normal daily walks, took him to the pet store and spent a good time with him. I can see that he was lethargic but still showing the enthusiasm to do something. In the evening, he no longer wants to eat his food and only ate 1/3 of it. At 9PM, we beckon him we’re going for a walk, but he did not have the enthusiasm to walk at all and my husband saw his nose bleed. I rechecked the internet for the signs and told my husband, we need to take him to the emergency clinic. We got there, the emergency vet asked us several questions and we told them our regular vet thinks it is splenic tumor.He palpitate the belly and asked us to lift him up on the exam table without touching his belly. He got a syringe and Lo and Behold, got a syringe full of blood in his belly. Of course we were so shocked! We were wondering why our regular vet did not do this on Friday. We were told by this emergency vet that it is a very serious life threatening problem and Other-One was bleeding internally, the reason why he is so anemic. He thinks it is spleen tumor that has ruptured and could be the more serious problem -hemangiosarcoma- which I found in the internet to be very common affliction among deep chested dogs such as golden retrievers and german shepherd. Once the spleen has broken – that chances of survival is not good.
Here’s the information:
http://www.vet.uga.edu/VPP/clerk/frankhauser/index.php
http://www.caninecancerawareness.org/html/CanineCancerHemangiosarcoma.html
He recommended we:
1. Wait for tomorrow and let the regular vet do a sonogram as he recommended, but the dog might not last for 12 hours on his present condition.
2. Do an x-ray and check other organs and possibly do exploratory surgery,drain the blood, clean it and remove whatever is causing the bleeding which is probably the spleen if the tumors have not spread into the other organs.and send the diseased organ for biopsy.
3. Euthanize the dog.
We did option # 2 and on the x-ray showed a very vivid picture of the respiratory organ, he found that the tumors have spread to the lungs, possibly through the liver and other organs. He said, he can still open him up but prognosis is not good. Even with the chemotherapy, radiation,etc. He is not sure that Other-One will make it as his blood pressure is so low. Even though it was against our willingness to do so, we had no choice but to have him put to sleep to ease all the pain instead of letting him go through the surgery and have more pain, and no chance of recovery. It was a terrible experience but I saw he did not suffer at all with the injection. It’s like he just fell fast asleep. Believe me, it hurt so bad to lose a dog like him.Up to now, both my husband and I are still so sad and I cry almost everyday hoping to ease the pain of losing him. And I’m wondering why on earth the regular vet did not tell us how grave the problem was. He could have send us immediately to the emergency clinic and told us not to wait any longer. Just like what our previous vet(we used to have) would have done, who unfortunately moved someplace else and we can no longer use him as a regular vet. On that same day (Friday) we also brought his sibling (Klingon) for a rear leg limping. He said it could be arthritis, inflammation or disk problem and he prescribed Previcox. I gave him a half a tablet in the beginning so his system does not get shocked. I decided to search the internet and find out what the caution on Previcox. I run into some information including Merial site about the use of Previcox.
I also searched the manufacturer’s site and it specifically said Previcox should not be given to dogs with heart problem or disease. Before we went to this vet, I gave him a spreadsheet which includes all of our three dogs health record, what medication and what kind of health problems they had since they were puppies. Again, why did this regular doctor prescribed the medication to Klingon, when he knows Klingon has heart murmur! And the fact that we also spent a fortune on the regular vet for nothing while the expenses incurred on the emergency was cheaper. We decided to return back the Previcox to the vet but they don’t want to accept the still sealed medication, and give us a refund.
I called Merial about it and the customer support said to ask the vet to call them so they can refund the money to us and Merial will take the unused drug and refund the vet.
I’m also glad I have several videos of Other-One and tons of pictures and at least watching him on video is helping out a lot.
June 23rd will be 4 years since I had to take my Angelbaby to have her put to sleep. (Sweet Pea went into kidney failure after taking her to the Auburn University (Alabama) Vet Clinic to have a mass removed from her side.)
Then one day she stopped eating. And she LOVED to eat! So I took her to our regular vet and he did the bloodtests and called & told me the bad news I felt like I had been hit by a semi-truck. The next few weeks were literally a “living hell” trying to get her to eat & drink (we basically force-fed her a special diet for 2 weeks hoping to turn it around, but to no avail.)
When I came home that day from work, I couldn’t find her. She usually met me at the front door or would be laying on the couch if she wasn’t feeling good, but I couldn’t find her. I called and called her. Our Cocker Spaniel, Milli, acted like she was even looking for her too.
I finally found her in my son’s closet. She NEVER even went in his room before then. I picked her up and took her to the living room and sat and held her and sobbed. When I finally got to where I could talk, I called my husband and told him about having to hunt her. I told him that I thought that it was her way of telling us that it was time. He agreed and told me to bring her to his office and he would drive us to the vet’s office.
That was the hardest thing to do, was tell Dr. Jones to give her the shot while we held her.
We brought Sweet Pea home and built her a casket and buried her in our front yard.
I haven’t stopped crying yet.
The first pet I had was a Boarder Collie Kelpie crossbreed and he was 15 years old when he passed away. I had to get him put down has he had suffered bad arthritis and hip displacia which is common for these dogs however I could not bring myself to do it so I got my father to do it as he works for Department of Natural Environment and Resources which they have their own vets.
It was emotional loosing Alex as I had him since he was a puppy and had many good years of joy. I use to take him to work with me and I remember one time he got out and decided to take a wonder through the local shopping mall, I found him running through the isles of Safeway.
I now have another dog Penny and have had her for 8 years and I know I will miss her when she is gone.
I have such fond memories off all my cats, since I was very young. Each one of them touched my life in a different way, and always for the good. I remember the day each and every one of them died as if it were only yesterday. And still have the lonely feelings on the anniversary date of their death. My “Sammy” was with me the longest, nearly 20 years, which translates to most of my adult life. She was by my side for every major event in my life, and provided nothing but unconditional love when I was having a bad day, or any day for that matter. Now here comes the water works! Every time I think of her my eyes well up – sometimes with saddness that she is gone, and other times with joy that I was so blessed to have her in my life. If I was having a day that I was upset, and crying over some unfortunate event in my life, Sammy would sit on the edge of the sofa or on my lap and reach up to my face with her front paw, and ever so lightly rub my cheek with her paw. And one of her favorite things to do so that I would wake up in the morning was to sit next to me and lick my eyelashes – this of course tickled, and woke me up so I could pet her.
I have found it best to remember these happy times, and know that she and all my other cats played a major roll in my life – they have taught me that “unconditional love” is the most important thing in life!
There is one thing that just makes me angry, about the loss of a pet. And that is how others respond. I have lost count of how many times I have heard, “It was only a cat!” My initial response is that of anger, then I realize that that these are the very people who are missing out on one of the greatest joys in life, and I find myself having more pity for them. If they have pets and they have not allowed themselves to grow close and have that bond between themselves and their furry friend. And this bond is proven to be lead to a better and more healthy life for people and pets alike.
So, I lost three cats due to various illnesses in the space of a year and a half. I thought I had taken all I could take. Everyone at my vet office asked when I would be ready for another cat, and I just shrugged, and said “I don’t know.” Well about a year later it was decided for me. I tiny, and very skinny stray or ferral kitten showed up in my back yard. He stayed, but we could not get near him for several months. We lured him in with food, and lots of patients. Now, nearly a year later, Salem lives in the house, and loves his new home and family. And most important for him……his new family loves him!
A new kitty never replaces the old or departed ones. I simply carry the fond memories in my heart at all times, and keep adding to them with each new furry friend that comes into my life. And I am greatful for each day that I have with each one of my pets, knowing that each one of them is making me a better and more loving person.
Sheba was born March 14th 1976 and was my birthday present. She was a Golden Retriever, born in England where we lived, and came to us when she was 8 weeks old. As she matured, she really thought that she was human. At 3yrs of age, she was mated, became pregnant with just one puppy, which died while she was whelping. We then brought in another Golden Retriever puppy at 7 weeks of age, we named him Trojan, after the Trojan Horse! When Trojan was 9 months old, we mated him to Sheba. They had 4 puppies, but only one survived. We kept her, and named her Amber. It wasn’t long before Trojan, was winning at Dog Shows, qualifying for Crufts each year. Amber was also winning, and also qualified for Crufts.
Amber was mated twice, first producing 9 puppies, and then 2 years later with 10 puppies. From the last litter, we kept Tansy. When Tansy was just about 1 year old, we moved to the USA. Our 4 Golden’s travelling with us. They soon took to their new home in Connecticut. After 3 years, we moved to South Carolina. We built a house, where the dogs had their own room, with raised bath/shower, a dog door, which gave them access to their large run. This was the time that we suddenly realized that Sheba thought that she was also human! She would not stay with her doggy family, but had to stay in the house with us. July 4th, 1989, I was home alone when suddenly, there was a lot of noise coming from downstairs, It sounded like furniture being thrown around. Sheba was staggering around, knocking over the kitchen chairs and panting desperately. It took all my strength to try to calm her down, but all in vain. I called my vet who met me at the surgery. Sheba had had a stroke! She spent 3 days at the Vets, we were told that she probably would never recover from the stroke. We decided that if she were to recover, it would be at home.
Fortunately, we had the “dog room”, Sheba was so distressed that she had to be in there on her own. All she did, was walk around and around in circles, continuously drinking water, which most of it went onto the floor. The wet floor made her fall into a spread eagle fashion. She would cry, I would go and pick her up, and she would start walking in circles once again. This went on all through the night. I spent the night just picking her up, and the circling would start all over again. By morning, I and Sheba were totally exhausted. I put her outside, just so that I could take a shower. On the concrete she didn’t slip and fall over. When I went to check on her, I noticed a lot of brown marks on the concrete, it looked as though someone had taken a paint brush and had painted brush strokes in circles on the concrete. Looking more closely, I realized that she was dragging one of her back feet, and had worn her claws down to the flesh. I was absolutely devastated. I knew then, that we had to let her go, but she was my very first dog and I didn’t know how I was going to be able to take her to the vets, and then bring her body back home! I phoned my vet at 8.00 am, explained what had happened, and very tearfully, asked if he would come to the house and put her to sleep! He did come, but it was the hardest thing that I had ever had to do; but suddenly, Sheba closed her eyes…..and she was at peace. We buried her at home, and planted a Crepe Myrtle tree on her grave. But I think I cried every day for a year after that. Since then, we have lost all our other Golden’s, Amber and Tansy were just short of one month of their 16th birthday. We have also lost our two cats, and then another dog, Shandy, who died suddenly March 5th 2007, after eating tainted dog food. And it never gets any easier! We now have Junior, a White Boxer who my Son was not able to care for anymore, and Daisy, a little black dog who was a stray, that no one wanted to claim, she looks like a Black Lab. with very short legs! Probably has some Dachshund in her. I dread the day though, when we have to say our last good bye, and wonder if we will ever have anymore animals, as the loss is so great!
having been in this position more than once – i don’t believe in putting down a pet until THEY look at you and tell you it’s enough, it’s time. we all talk to our pets (i think)- they are intelligent, they DO talk back, and hopefully you can understand them. (the answer is in the way they look at you)
We must never feel guilty about having our pets put to rest, what we should feel is guilt about keeping them alive if they are sufferin gwe get very selfish about keeping the things we want in life, like a child that is crazy about a toy,who won!t let any one have it, I have suffered in silence for the last eight years because I know I KEPT MY DOG SUZIE an orange roan cocker spanial, oh yes i had her eighteen years but could not let go, in the end i had to and it took me three weeks before I told anyone because i couldn!t bring myself round to saying the words “Suzies gone”, and i still feel guilty to this very day, the said she didn!seem to be in pain but her quality of life had gone so bad within the last month of her life, blindness, just sleeping consatant and found walking very hard, this little lady went from looking like a young dog TO A VERY OLD LADY in the last month SO WE RALLY MUST NOT BE SELFISH, ESPECIALy IF OUR BABIES ARE IN PAIN, enjoy your pets,and give them back as much love as they give you
i just want to say that you should not take to heart what this person has said to you. you know deep down that you care and more importantly your heart is right. some people will say mean things and refuse to try to understand what they believe is wrong. dying in pain is no joke and if a dog could talk it would beg for pain relief to end its suffering. keep up the good work!
My beloved best friend and reddish apricot colored toy poodle Rusty (13 yrs.) died on June 14th. Long story, but Rusty was on meds for cushing disease for a few mos. and we awakened
one day to find Rusty appeared to have had a stroke, as he didn’t want to get up. After much evaluation, the vet decided his cushings dosage was too strong. Rusty was semi-lifeless
for two days, and then on Sat.(after several i.v’s. and much treatment, when we visited that morning at the clinic he was very excited to see us, and appeared almost well. We took him outside to go to the bathroom (still at the clinic) and hoped that we may be able to take him home soon (we had driven to a vet two hours from our home to a bigger city, and stayed at a hotel there to be near him. We went to visit him a few hours later, and the vet said his g.i tract wasn’t working and they had given him some pain medicine. He again seemed almost unconscious. We visited him again a few hrs. later and they said they had fed him. I believe he must have inhaled some food and maybe had pneumonia, as around his nost was liquidy and he again appeared to be totally out of it. I asked if he could die, and they told me “no, I don’t believe so.” But said, he is not out of the woods. We told them to call us if there was any change. At 11:45 I awakened to the phone, which was the clinic telling us Rusty had gone into cardiac arrest and they had revived him. They said once that happens once, they usually do it again. We quickly went there and I was not prepared for what I saw. Rusty’s little tongue was hanging sideways out of his mouth and he was on oxygen and struggling to breathe. I just went beserke (spelling?) I don’t understand what happened to our precious little guy from that morning to that night. In hindsight I wish I had taken him some where else that morning. I think they were too anxious to feed him and he was too sick to eat and inhaled his food into his lungs. (He had a narrow trachea that I had told them about, and told them to wait and let ME feed him!, which they did not.) Maybe I am being too judgmental, but the vet who had watched over him so carefully had gone home and the vet that was there didn’t seem very concerned. It broke my heart. A few minutes later we told her to end it, that I couldn’t bear to see him suffer. I don’t regret my decision, but wish I had asked more questions, but was too upset. I know I was the best advocate for Rusty and loved him more than anyone
and had his best interest at heart. I will not beat myself up over it, because at the time, I knew it was best. My husband and I bought a little baby casket the next day, had a funeral for the family and we buried him in our front yard. I have been keeping fresh bouquets of roses on the grave since then. I know some people may think I am nuts, but you know, he was the love of our life for 13 years, and he gave us a lot more love than the casket cost us. All I can say is that there has to be dogs in Heaven, as I don’t believe God would not let us reunite with our special companions. I remember reading that our dogs teach us how to love, and I firmly believe that! I will never forget my faithful and devoted friend of 13 years as long as I live!