On losing a pet….

| October 23, 2012

A close friend emailed me this morning, and it kind of broke my heart. 

A bit of sad news to report to the group…

Yesterday Figo got out of the house, was hit by a car and died.

We had a really tough day yesterday. I think we’re both a bit numb today…it’s going to take a while to get over this one!

This is actually the second time in less than a week this has happened to someone close to me.

This week I was in Dallas for a wedding, and Jamie, Caro and I were talking about the worst day of our life, and it couldn’t include the death of a family member. I’m not sure if the day I lost my dog counts or not, but damn that was a tough one. I knew Forrest was dying, she was after all a 17 year old Golden Retriever. I begged God to give me one last weekend with her. It was Thanksgiving weekend, and I just wanted to spend every minute with her. But Thanksgiving morning broke, and I knew we couldn’t make it. She was in pain, and it killed me.

I remember the drive to the vet. Freshly back from Afghanistan, I’m driving a jeep with no roof, and tears streaming down my face. People driving by seemed really scared to see me. But I didn’t care at that point, I was done. I took her in. The vet administered the shot, and she kissed my nose before drifting off. I’ll never have a Thanksgiving Day again without thinking of her. I was so grateful for how peacefully it ended, but…. I didn’t get out of bed for 4 days.

As my buddy Mike said “…so tough. We get so attached to these little fuckers!”

I never know what to say to people, or how to act, even under the best of circumstances. Things like this pretty much paralyze me. What is the appropriate thing to say? Just “Sorry for your loss” doesn’t cover it.

Anyway, I just feel so sad for my buddy right now.

Category: Politics

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skh.pcola

Made me tear up, TSO. And for many of the other stories of the readers. Nothing like the loyalty and companionship of a dog. Be well, safe, and happy.

SFC Holland

We have seven cats.

Dave K.

We had a cat that developed cancer in his right rear leg in 2005. We took him to the vet and he told us his only chance was to have the leg removed. That was a difficult decision to make but Louie was relatively young so we let him do it.

He adapted and got back to “normal” but a couple of years later, it came back. We knew he had no chance and after talking about it, decided to have him put to sleep ASAP. That was a Sunday and we decided to do it in two days when I was off. Monday morning, she couldn’t find him and after looking, I found him downstairs under a slipcover lying limp in his own pee.

We immediately called our vet and took him in as I was not going to let him live like that one more minute. I teared up, apologizing to him, telling him that if I knew this would happen today, I would have had it done yesterday. I’ll never forget him lying on the floor as the vet gave him the needle and soon after, watching his eyes glaze over. That memory coupled with the guilt over not doing it sooner turned me into a basket case on the way home and haunted me for months.

We adopted a dog a couple of years ago and I basically just spoil the hell out of him, knowing that the day will come again sometime and I plan on making sure every second he’s with us, he’s as happy as possible. It stinks, knowing that one day he’ll no longer be with us but I won’t let it detract from the joy he brings to our house and seeing the love in his face for us.

Rest in peace Figo. I know your family loved you very much.

headhuntersix

This thread is really not helping my morale.

Twist

@48, my sister has a 1/2 Rottweiler, 1/2 Dotson. I have no idea how the mechanics of that one worked.

Hondo

I debated whether to post this, and finally decided I would. My spouse and I have lost several pets over the years. Losing each was hard. But if you’ve owned multiple pets, you’ve probably had one that was . . . different. One where the relationship between the two of you simply “clicked” from day one, and was just much closer than all the others. For me, that was Smoke. Smoke was a gift from my spouse the first Christmas we were married. The little fella chose me, not the other way around. Every time I’d walk past him and his litter-mates, he’d sit and mew until I picked him up. Then he’d curl up and purr. He’d decided that I was his human. Smoke grew to be about 13 pounds. And being a Persian as well as a bit slender and long-limbed compared to the norm for that breed, he looked closer to 20. I had him nearly 13 1/2 years. And the first 13 were good, happy ones. Then Smoke’s kidneys failed. We didn’t catch it in time to put him on a special diet. At that point, all that was really left was therapy. And even that was pretty harsh on the old boy, so we eventually discontinued it. His decline continued. And one morning, when I went out to make coffee, I found him. He was hanging from a chair by one paw, claws stuck in the upholstery. I thought he’d died in the night, alone. I went over to recover his body. And when I disengaged his claws and picked him up – he started purring. I damn near lost it then and there. He was dazed and confused, but still fairly aware of his surroundings. But he didn’t seem to be in pain – just confused and not quite all there. He’d apparently had a seizure or stroke. The vet indicated it was probably due to the buildup of urea and other poisons in his blood and brain due to kidney failure. But he’d lost the use of one leg. In his weakened condition,… Read more »

Rob

Hard to read your posts. Thanks for sharing, but the screen is getting too blurry. 🙁 Too many memories.

Veritas Omnia Vincit

We had to put our black Lab down recently…..this was a tough post to read. I have since decided in addition to simplifying my home by renovating some rooms and removing all the extraneous non-essentials I am trying to avoid getting another dog right now….I love running with them, tossing a frisbee, all that comes with it…but as I get older I can’t hardly take the end of life stuff associated with the responsibility of pet ownership….you fall into a routine where you find yourself on a Sunday morning cooking an extra egg for a dog you no longer have and it’s just not good….

Not sure I will hold to my idea of simplification or not, but time will tell…

Ex-PH2

This is not exactly a pet story, but it speaks volumes about war dogs and their handlers:

http://www.dailyherald.com/article/20121025/news/710259872/