I just wanted to thank everyone for their shared experiences, sympathy and kind words. I know it was weird to start a thread about having to put a pet asleep, especially on a bonsai forum. But when I started it, I didn't think of that. I was just feeling very sad and wanted to talk about it. Thanks for the kind responses.
R.I.P. Miss Kitty
- Thread starter Carol 83
- Start date
Vance Wood
Lord Mugo
Cats are so special, if you have never owned one and loved one, you will never know what a profund loss this is. I feel your pain.
Catagonia
Yamadori
I’ve been there too. It’s the hardest part of having a pet. I hope that knowing you gave her the gift of a loving home can give you some comfort.
Thank youI’m so sorry to hear this news! May she RIP and sending you peace as well
Thank you Vance.
It truly is, sorry you had to deal with it also.
Michigan Tree Murderer
Masterpiece
You sparked all of our animal love, sympathy and compassion. I refrained from posting in this thread because I didn't want to keep the "wound open" so to speak. But I believe this thread was beneficial to everyone who read or replied myself included.
Shogun610
Masterpiece
My condolences on your loss of a beloved family member Carol. I held my Pete alittle longer tonight.
Dux
Sapling
Soo sorry to hear this Carol, you made a brave decission!
Hbhaska
Chumono
So sorry, Carol. She looks like our cat Earl. We were pretty sure we lost him after a coyote attack when we picked him up to go to the vet to put him down. Miraculously he came back to life and cheered up my sobbing wife.
Losing your pet is the hardest thing one can go through.
Losing your pet is the hardest thing one can go through.
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rockm
Spuds Moyogi
I posted this on a Bull terrier FB group a while back. Applicable to any family pet. Having to say goodbye to them is one of the most difficult things in life:
This is a follow-up to my post on my first bullie Jack. Thought it might help those that have recently lost a close bullie companion.
Losing a dog is heartbreaking, but it's part of the deal when you get one. It took me a number of years to get past Jack's passing. My grief was deeper than I thought it was going to be (but the plus side was having a lot more free time and intact woodwork and furniture in my house)
A few years after Jack died, I got a "sign" it was time to get another bullie. That sign was the direct result of his popularity in my neighborhood and possibly divine intervention.
One morning a neighbor knocked on my front door to tell me my neighbor across the street "had Jack in their house" and I "should go and get him."
I told him Jack had been dead for some years now and he was most definitely not in my neighbor's house. "Well, the dog they have looks an AWFUL lot like Jack," he said.
I went over to investigate. Turned out a stray bullie had roamed up to my neighbor's door in the middle of the night and "asked" to come in. They let him in, made him comfortable and planned to call Bullie rescue that very day.
I saw the dog, white with a huge oval black spot over his eye, and decided I needed another bullie. It was time... I gave my neighbors the number of a bullie rescue and started thinking about the intersection of dumb luck, rational explanations and the metaphysical.
I'm not much for the sparkly rainbow bridge stuff. Dogs pass on, their fate is much as ours--unknown. But in my years on this earth, I've found you can sometimes get glimpses of what might be called the divine if you look.
This was one of those times.
Years before that, the night I took Jack to the vet to have him put down was another.
Jack had dementia at the end of his life. He didn't really know where he was or what was happening. He was in a fog most of the time. That deepening fog was the reason I'd taken him for his last ride to his vet early on a cold December night. Jack's condition had become untenable for us both. His quality of life was gone and I'd waited too long for the inevitable, selfishly not wanting to let him go.
However, his hazy brain function didn't mean he didn't have some of that old familiar fire left in his tank. When I got to the vet that night, the vet tech charged with administering the shot fumbled repeatedly trying to find a vein. That fumbling pissed Jack off. His head cleared for a moment. He regained that old flinty glint in his eye one last time, looked at the tech and LUNGED FOR HIM, roaring like a lion as he went. However, he stopped short and went quiet. Basically he told the tech to "just get on with it bro." I felt something like pride and grief all rolled up into themselves.
I think the vet tech crapped his pants, but he was tearfully apologetic for the fumbling.
The drive home afterwards in the cold dark was difficult. Halfway home on the Interstate, high in the heavens a shooting star flashed directly from the top of my truck's windshield and off into the horizon directly in front of me.
You can rationally explain that sudden appearance of a sign many take as a new soul in heaven as random--Early December has the Geminid meteor shower after all. But still...the path it traveled directly in front of me, leading me home...I haven't been able to get that out of my head since.
The coincidences around the arrival of the new dog at my neighbors also have strange resonance for me. There are not many bullies around these parts. To see a random bull terrier within 50 miles was not unheard of, but such sightings were--and still are-pretty rare. The dog had been trying to play with the neighborhood kids for days and had been sleeping in the woods behind my house, so the kids told me later.
To have one show up out of the blue, 40 yards from my house was just plain weird. I joked to myself that Jack always had a lousy sense of direction and he got the new dog as close to my house as he could.
When the rescue folks showed up at my neighbor's, I waited in their yard. When they came out, I told them I wanted to foster the dog immediately. We did a home inspection on the spot. Jax came to my house a week and a half later.
I fostered Jax for about a year. His stay at my house was complicated, involving a legal battle with his original owners and some other issues. I ultimately had to re-home him, but he (with a possible assist from Jack) got me back into bullies. Like the Mafia, with bullies you can try to leave, but you can never actually escape.
This is a follow-up to my post on my first bullie Jack. Thought it might help those that have recently lost a close bullie companion.
Losing a dog is heartbreaking, but it's part of the deal when you get one. It took me a number of years to get past Jack's passing. My grief was deeper than I thought it was going to be (but the plus side was having a lot more free time and intact woodwork and furniture in my house)
A few years after Jack died, I got a "sign" it was time to get another bullie. That sign was the direct result of his popularity in my neighborhood and possibly divine intervention.
One morning a neighbor knocked on my front door to tell me my neighbor across the street "had Jack in their house" and I "should go and get him."
I told him Jack had been dead for some years now and he was most definitely not in my neighbor's house. "Well, the dog they have looks an AWFUL lot like Jack," he said.
I went over to investigate. Turned out a stray bullie had roamed up to my neighbor's door in the middle of the night and "asked" to come in. They let him in, made him comfortable and planned to call Bullie rescue that very day.
I saw the dog, white with a huge oval black spot over his eye, and decided I needed another bullie. It was time... I gave my neighbors the number of a bullie rescue and started thinking about the intersection of dumb luck, rational explanations and the metaphysical.
I'm not much for the sparkly rainbow bridge stuff. Dogs pass on, their fate is much as ours--unknown. But in my years on this earth, I've found you can sometimes get glimpses of what might be called the divine if you look.
This was one of those times.
Years before that, the night I took Jack to the vet to have him put down was another.
Jack had dementia at the end of his life. He didn't really know where he was or what was happening. He was in a fog most of the time. That deepening fog was the reason I'd taken him for his last ride to his vet early on a cold December night. Jack's condition had become untenable for us both. His quality of life was gone and I'd waited too long for the inevitable, selfishly not wanting to let him go.
However, his hazy brain function didn't mean he didn't have some of that old familiar fire left in his tank. When I got to the vet that night, the vet tech charged with administering the shot fumbled repeatedly trying to find a vein. That fumbling pissed Jack off. His head cleared for a moment. He regained that old flinty glint in his eye one last time, looked at the tech and LUNGED FOR HIM, roaring like a lion as he went. However, he stopped short and went quiet. Basically he told the tech to "just get on with it bro." I felt something like pride and grief all rolled up into themselves.
I think the vet tech crapped his pants, but he was tearfully apologetic for the fumbling.
The drive home afterwards in the cold dark was difficult. Halfway home on the Interstate, high in the heavens a shooting star flashed directly from the top of my truck's windshield and off into the horizon directly in front of me.
You can rationally explain that sudden appearance of a sign many take as a new soul in heaven as random--Early December has the Geminid meteor shower after all. But still...the path it traveled directly in front of me, leading me home...I haven't been able to get that out of my head since.
The coincidences around the arrival of the new dog at my neighbors also have strange resonance for me. There are not many bullies around these parts. To see a random bull terrier within 50 miles was not unheard of, but such sightings were--and still are-pretty rare. The dog had been trying to play with the neighborhood kids for days and had been sleeping in the woods behind my house, so the kids told me later.
To have one show up out of the blue, 40 yards from my house was just plain weird. I joked to myself that Jack always had a lousy sense of direction and he got the new dog as close to my house as he could.
When the rescue folks showed up at my neighbor's, I waited in their yard. When they came out, I told them I wanted to foster the dog immediately. We did a home inspection on the spot. Jax came to my house a week and a half later.
I fostered Jax for about a year. His stay at my house was complicated, involving a legal battle with his original owners and some other issues. I ultimately had to re-home him, but he (with a possible assist from Jack) got me back into bullies. Like the Mafia, with bullies you can try to leave, but you can never actually escape.
Cable
Omono
So sorry for your loss. Losing a pet is very hard. :-(
amcoffeegirl
Masterpiece
I have been hesitant to click on this thread because I knew that I would end up crying.
Animals are so precious and I’m not sure we deserve them. I’m sorry for your loss and I know that another pet will not fill the void of your loss.
I do hope though when it is time that you will consider giving love to another kitty. There are many out there that need homes.
Animals are so precious and I’m not sure we deserve them. I’m sorry for your loss and I know that another pet will not fill the void of your loss.
I do hope though when it is time that you will consider giving love to another kitty. There are many out there that need homes.
Thank you, cherish every minute with them.
So glad he is Ok
Great story and I kind of do believe in some sort of divine intervention. We had a big tub of cat food left and tonight I noticed a stray passing by the door. So I did put a bowl outside, just so it didn't go hungry.I posted this on a Bull terrier FB group a while back. Applicable to any family pet. Having to say goodbye to them is one of the most difficult things in life:
This is a follow-up to my post on my first bullie Jack. Thought it might help those that have recently lost a close bullie companion.
Losing a dog is heartbreaking, but it's part of the deal when you get one. It took me a number of years to get past Jack's passing. My grief was deeper than I thought it was going to be (but the plus side was having a lot more free time and intact woodwork and furniture in my house)
A few years after Jack died, I got a "sign" it was time to get another bullie. That sign was the direct result of his popularity in my neighborhood and possibly divine intervention.
One morning a neighbor knocked on my front door to tell me my neighbor across the street "had Jack in their house" and I "should go and get him."
I told him Jack had been dead for some years now and he was most definitely not in my neighbor's house. "Well, the dog they have looks an AWFUL lot like Jack," he said.
I went over to investigate. Turned out a stray bullie had roamed up to my neighbor's door in the middle of the night and "asked" to come in. They let him in, made him comfortable and planned to call Bullie rescue that very day.
I saw the dog, white with a huge oval black spot over his eye, and decided I needed another bullie. It was time... I gave my neighbors the number of a bullie rescue and started thinking about the intersection of dumb luck, rational explanations and the metaphysical.
I'm not much for the sparkly rainbow bridge stuff. Dogs pass on, their fate is much as ours--unknown. But in my years on this earth, I've found you can sometimes get glimpses of what might be called the divine if you look.
This was one of those times.
Years before that, the night I took Jack to the vet to have him put down was another.
Jack had dementia at the end of his life. He didn't really know where he was or what was happening. He was in a fog most of the time. That deepening fog was the reason I'd taken him for his last ride to his vet early on a cold December night. Jack's condition had become untenable for us both. His quality of life was gone and I'd waited too long for the inevitable, selfishly not wanting to let him go.
However, his hazy brain function didn't mean he didn't have some of that old familiar fire left in his tank. When I got to the vet that night, the vet tech charged with administering the shot fumbled repeatedly trying to find a vein. That fumbling pissed Jack off. His head cleared for a moment. He regained that old flinty glint in his eye one last time, looked at the tech and LUNGED FOR HIM, roaring like a lion as he went. However, he stopped short and went quiet. Basically he told the tech to "just get on with it bro." I felt something like pride and grief all rolled up into themselves.
I think the vet tech crapped his pants, but he was tearfully apologetic for the fumbling.
The drive home afterwards in the cold dark was difficult. Halfway home on the Interstate, high in the heavens a shooting star flashed directly from the top of my truck's windshield and off into the horizon directly in front of me.
You can rationally explain that sudden appearance of a sign many take as a new soul in heaven as random--Early December has the Geminid meteor shower after all. But still...the path it traveled directly in front of me, leading me home...I haven't been able to get that out of my head since.
The coincidences around the arrival of the new dog at my neighbors also have strange resonance for me. There are not many bullies around these parts. To see a random bull terrier within 50 miles was not unheard of, but such sightings were--and still are-pretty rare. The dog had been trying to play with the neighborhood kids for days and had been sleeping in the woods behind my house, so the kids told me later.
To have one show up out of the blue, 40 yards from my house was just plain weird. I joked to myself that Jack always had a lousy sense of direction and he got the new dog as close to my house as he could.
When the rescue folks showed up at my neighbor's, I waited in their yard. When they came out, I told them I wanted to foster the dog immediately. We did a home inspection on the spot. Jax came to my house a week and a half later.
I fostered Jax for about a year. His stay at my house was complicated, involving a legal battle with his original owners and some other issues. I ultimately had to re-home him, but he (with a possible assist from Jack) got me back into bullies. Like the Mafia, with bullies you can try to leave, but you can never actually escape.
Thank you, it really is.
Thanks Denise. On Saturday we both decided, no more pets. We have had dogs and cats our whole lives. Tonight my husband said maybe after our vacation in September maybe we could get a rescue cat. I was thinking the same thing, so maybe...
