Yesterday I had to make the decision to put my most precious dog Ashley to sleep. And so yesterday evening my dog left my life.

Logically I know that she needed to go. They actually thought she was going to die back in August (at that time she was diagnosed with chronic renal failure and pancreatitis) but she rallied and though I won't say the months since then were that great for her in retrospect, selfishly I had her with me. But about a month ago she began to eat only miniscule amounts of food. Nothing I made for her (chicken and rice, lean beef, etc.) which she normally would wolf down, appealed to her.

I took her to the vet and as I sat in the car I realized her brown eyes were yellowish. I pulled back her eyelids and realized the sclera of her eyes were yellow and then I noticed her tongue was yellow and her skin. She was jaundiced.

My vet said my precious Ashley most likely had cancer. You could feel a hard lump there in her abdomen too. He said he felt it was causing her obstructive jaundice. He said he could do lots of expensive tests, but ultimately no matter the cause he couldn't fix a 14 year old dog. He said he didn't think she was suffering, but that she likely would if it was cancer. He gave me lots of meds which were difficult to administer given that she wasn't eating, but I managed to crush and shoot them down her throat and they actually stayed down most of the time.

Barring one day when she actually seemed to feel good, I watched my dog deteriorate over last week. Then I watched her on this past Monday barely able to walk. Refusing all food and barely drinking and no longer urinating. I watched her vomit and collapse and stare dead eyed before rousing to my screams.

On Monday the vet told it was time to let her go or to admit her and try to give her fluids and do all sorts of tests. The vet said it was his opinion that it was time for Ashley to go. Right then I knew I was going to have to make the worst decision of my life.

I have money (we - my husband and I) have money though we are not rich. But I could pay for all sorts of tests. But to what end? I did not want Ashley to die alone in a vet clinic. I was afraid to leave her because she had become very desirous of me being by her all the time and I was afraid if I left her she would feel abandoned and scared and that she would die this way.

But yesterday morning, I could not make the decision to end her life. I needed guidance but what the vet was saying - to put her to sleep - was not what I wanted to hear. I finally came across several articles on the topic of when it would be considered time to end a pet's life. And reading those I realized that Ashley has been fighting to stay alive for me. That her quality of life, barring the moments I would give her attention was nil. The things that made her happy could no longer bring her joy. I looked at my dog who whimpered with every rapid breath she was taking and in that moment I knew she was and had been hurting and that I had to stop her suffering; I had to quit being selfish.

I spent her last few hours alone with her stroking her, kissing her, trying to hold her (it caused her pain to be held) and grieving. And then at the vet's office I had to listen to the staff laugh and carry on while I was there to end my companion's (of 14 year's) life. I held her head in my hands and watched her life pass away.

And now, this grief is beyond belief. I know logically that it will get better with time. But I hurt so badly now. My husband who was with me as we said goodbye to Ashley yesterday is at work today. I sit in this empty quiet house longing to hold my warm precious baby. To look into her chocolate chip eyes and see the love in them. I see the Christmas tree; I see the presents for everyone but her; I see the ornaments I have given her and our other dog (my husband's dog who we also lost this year); I see the stockings for us but not for her for them. I can't bear to look at her dog beds or her toys or anything. I am angry and sad and I want her back. I couldn't sleep; I can't eat. Why should I get to eat when she can't?

And now the phone rings with people asking what I want for Christmas. What do I want for Christmas? My dog back!! My dog back healthy and happy!! I don't want anything else. I don't want to eat. I don't want to celebrate Christmas! I don't want any presents. The only present I want I can't have.

I don't mean to be melodramatic but I can't stop crying; I can't stop seeing her little face. I can't be logical. Did I do the right thing? Is she happy? All I want is her back. I feel so lost and empty and lonely. This house is the ghost house. No dog to bring it to life. No dog to follow me around and seek my love.

Please just pray for me and my sweet precious angel. I never dreamed of pain this bad.

I'm so sorry for your Loss.I put My Joey the Dashaund to sleep on monday due to cancer.He was 11 and He was Healthy and out of the Blue he got very sick.They found out he had cancer two months ago and he went down hill fast.He was 25lbs two months ago,and on monday he was 17lbs.He wasen't eating or drinking.So I did not want him to suffer and I put him to sleep on monday.That was the hardest thing I had to do.I Miss my joey so much and it has only been three days.My heart breaks for you and your Loss.These boards are great they have helped me so much......Take Care........I feel your Pain........Roxanne

My heart goes out to you at this sad, sad time. Even though I do not know you, I grieve right along with you. You made the right decision. The part where you talked about the dead look in Ashley's eyes struck home with me. When my Sheltie, Bailey, died unexpectedly in September, I saw that same look. And even though her body was technically still alive, I knew the dog I knew and loved was gone. Words cannot make the hurt go away, but rest assured that others on this board are thinking about you in your time of grief. When you feel like it, come back and tell us some of the things that Ashley did to make you smile and love her so much. Take care of yourself. Ashley and Bailey are playing on the Rainbow Bridge as we speak, healthy, happy, and young again. Take care.

I cried constantly for three months, then at least every day but not for so long for another 6 months.

It was over a year before i could say that i had maybe one day with no tears, no watering of the eyes.

I cherish each and every drop it was like a testimony, look girls i loved you this much.

Dont be hard on yourselves i know this is the most awful time to loose a baby i lost Sadie on 6 December and Jude on 6 March.

Just think of this Christmas as for everyone else, they deserve a good time and you love them enough to help them to have a good time.

Come Christmas night three years ago i fell into bed exhausted from all the pretending but im glad i did my family and friends had a good time.

Be kind to yourself

Love Sue

To all of you that have kindly responded. I thank you for your kind words of support. The pain continues to be almost unbearable and I am fighting the doubts I have now that I did the right thing. So your words of support in that area certainly bring me a measure of relief.

I am still in so much pain all I can see are are the things I should have done better. And I find I can no longer smell her in the house, already and that brings even more pain. Today I ran across the presents meant for her stocking. Oh....

I understand what you are saying Sue about Christmas, my mother shared similar words yesterday. I will try at other's houses but I cannot try here at my own home and fortunately it is just my husband and I and I know he understands.

Again thankyou and I again ask for help via prayers and your kinds words. I grieve for all our losses.

Carol

Your Ashley sounds alot like my old boy Jacob, who I loss back in May of 1999, as he also was fighting to stay with us only because my husband and I were not ready to admit that it was time to let him sleep. Your love for Ashley allowed you to give her the last precious gift you could give and that was to take on her pain and to let her go. I am sorry that you loss your baby as any fur mother or father knows that this is one of the hardest choices you will have to ever make for our fur children, but rest asure that your dear baby no longer feels pain and will be waiting for you when it is your time to be reunited with her. Sometimes writing a tribute to our loss babies help to deal with the pain and I just thought I would share the one that a wrote for my Jacob, back when I loss him.

Jacob Aug. 1982 - May 1999

To our loving dog Jacob, who I brought home from our local pound when you were nine months old. You were our first baby, best friend and protector.

Your heart was strong, but your body was weak. Your love for us would not let you sleep. We could no longer stand to see you suffer for us, so we told you that we loved you and would miss you dearly. We stayed with you until the end as you finally found the peace you deserved.

We pray that all dogs do go to heaven, so that we may hold you again.

Our lives were full for almost 16 years. We remember your first Thanksgiving, when every one was feeding you scraps. You were so full it looked like you were ready to explode. The fun times we had playing doggie in the bag. You loved it so much, that when you got out and found us you would go get the bag to start all over again. So many good times, and so our lives will never be the same without you.

We will love you and miss you for the rest of our lives.

Yours forever,
Mommy & Daddy

P.S. Thank you Jacob for all the years of unconditional love for me. You always knew when I was low and blue. I will miss you greatly.

Love,
Mommy


I am still working on one for my more recent loss and that is for my precious fur kitty Smokey who I loss the end of Sept. of 2004. It takes me awhile to make sure that all I want to say to them is said.

Time does help to heal the grief and there will come a time when you will think about your Ashley and smile at all the good times that you had with each other. I will be thinking of you and your husband at this difficult time and pray that the Lord will help ease your pain.

LouAnn Needham
Mother to: Jacob - doggy angel (08/1982-05/1999), Smokey - kitty angel (12/1987-09/2004), Ziggy - doggy (12/1993), Quinton - doggy (07/1998), Phoenix - kitty (03/2003), Tyler - kitty (04/2004) & BobCat - kitty (07/2004)

It has to be one of the hardest decisions to make, but I think you'll find in time that this was best for you and your Ashley. I know right now it doesn't make sense, and you'll hurt for a long time. There really aren't many words that can help that, but knowing that there are people out there have been through this, can be a measure of comfort, I've found.

I've had 2 pet losses now - one 4 years ago, my little old lady Heidi-cat, and then my Magic-cat 2 nights ago. For awhile the pain is just sickening, and you wonder how you'll get through it. I can speak from experience that with Heidi, I can now think of her with a smile, but with Magic, so recently gone, it's just like a crushing feeling. I can momentarily put it out of my mind, but it all comes back with every little reminder. I think my heart almost physically stops when I think back to finding Magic curled up on the couch 2 nights ago, and I sit and cry, wondering why it happened, what I could have done differently, if anything could have made any difference. I have 5 other cats, and one minute I'm just so grateful that they're here to help me through this, but then I think oh no, I'm going to go through this 5 more times. It's overhwhelming, there really are no words. It's been so intense I haven't even had the will to visit this site for the last 2 nights, and yet now that I'm here, and reading about other people's experiences, I think it actually does help. It makes my head hurt, knowing that so much grief is out there in the world, but the fact that we can try to help each other through this time is a hopeful thing. Everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time, but we'll come through it.

You are all in my thoughts and prayers.

Thank you LouAnn and Scatsmom both for sharing your stories and your encouragement.

I have been working on my tribute to Ashley for today we bury her. But as of yet, I cannot make it through it. 14 years of memories continue to assault me and each memory, each time I look around and realize I am never going to see her in this house again or at the farm again (where we all loved to go and play) or celebrate Christmas with her again, and so on, I feel as if kicked in the chest and stomach.

The only time I am without pain is when for just a few hours a night, I actually manage to sleep. I still am not eating. I have tried getting out of the house, but the weight of the pain follows me and makes it so I can barely lift my legs to walk.

Scatsmom you said you stayed away from this site because it caused you too much pain. For me I check it at least 3 times a day hoping for more encouragement, hoping for words from others going through this or that already have gone through this, that it will get better. If it is not going to get better I don't know how to handle this. But all the words shared do offer hope and just for a moment I can stop thinking of me and my pain (stop being selfish) and realize others are suffering as I do and I can pray for someone else who is suffering.

My husband says I tormenting myself with the "what-ifs" and the "I shoulds" at this point and perhaps I am. I still know that in the end I really only wish I had my Ashley back, happy and healthy.

Thank you again to all who have responded and to all those who pray for my husband and me and my sweet dog, Ashley.

Carol

I had my Sasha for 16 years, so I know how hard it is to say goodbye to a friend that has stood by you for so long. I got Sasha when I was 14 years old and she stayed with me until I was 2 weeks shy of my 30th birthday. She was with me through all the major events in my life...High School, Graduation, Marriage, the birth of my daughter....I just didn't know HOW to live without her,she had just always been there, and although my life was forever changed, I got through it. It has been a year and 5 months since I had to let her go, and I still cry, but it does get better.
I sincerely believe Ashley was very ready to go. I, like you, tried to hold on to the fact that maybe because Sashsa would still wag her tail and kiss my face when I talked to her that she wasn't ready yet. That is just our veil of denial. Something to hold on to. They only do that for us. All they ever wanted was for us to be happy, and they would walk through fire if they had to if it meant it would comfort us. That is why we love them so much.
It took me a while before I could see that there truly was no other choice if I wanted to do what was best for her. Right now, your grief is so deep that your mind is clouded by "what ifs". We all go through that, and even though I still wonder about "what ifs", I know I loved her too much to stand by and see what might happen, to watch her suffer just so I wouldn't have to carry this pain and guilt. Although the guilt has slowly started to fade, I now carry this pain forever, but I would do it all again if it meant sparing her of hers. I think it is the least we can do for them after all they gave to us. They have earned the right to enjoy an eternity that, for now, we can only dream of. It is their reward, and one much deserved. You gave your Ashley the greatest gift you could have given her to repay her for all she gave to you....a peaceful journey to the bridge in the arms of the person she loved most...what better way to show how much you love her.......
your friend in grief,
Kim

Well, I came to this site today hoping to find more words of encouragment, because I'm starting to assimilate what's happened, and that's the start of the healing. I find it encouraging that I wasn't so terrified of my own pain that I avoid- ed the site altogether, because I think I've learned a lot and found people willing to listen when maybe my own family is starting to think I should be getting over it already. I cried only once today - so far - and also went for a long walk with one of my sons past the sewer where we found Magic 3 years ago. That was bittersweet, I'll tell you. I just keep thinking I see her everywhere, and hear her, when I know that the place she's gone, she'd never want to leave - it's filled with catnip and nummy food and lots of cats who will play hide-and-seek with her. I sometimes feel selfish missing her when I know she's in a better place. This pain does pass, right? If it doesn't, does anyone know the guidelines for seeking bereavement therapy? In my darkest moments I think I might literally fall apart , the pain is so intense and searing. I don't think my husband is going to have much patience with my depression much longer - her grew up on a Midwest farm where animal deaths were part of the daily routine. He tries to understand, but it makes him uncomfortable. Any suggestions would be appreciated. I honestly didn't expect this level of anguish, but there it is.

Kim R., thank you for your wonderful words. I read them last night and they made me feel better. I could not respond because yesterday I had to bury me sweet baby and found that I was so emotionally and physically drained that I could not even type a thank you to you. I do believe what you say on a logical level; I just hope that as the days pass, I can believe it all emotionally too. I find myself tormented over guilt and what-ifs. You are right it is so very hard when our babies have always been there for us. I, like you, find it difficult to imagine how I will go on without my baby. Thank you for being there in your kind words and support.

Scatsmom, I am not sure I am in a place to offer encouragement, since I too grieve so deeply that I fear that there never will be an end to my pain. My husband like yours is supportive, but already I see frustration in his eyes over my grief. He comforts me, but I know he feels it a burden to try and make it better, knowing at the same time that he cannot. I know he worries because I cannot sleep long or eat. My family like yours seems to say "it is going to take time" but they all act like I should go on as if it were nothing.

I wake up in the middle of the night, sob and throw-up worrying that I did the wrong thing or that I should have done more or I should have spent more time with her. I sometimes wish we had children so that I would be forced to attend to someone, but instead the house is so quiet. And today, I am angry. I am angry I had to make the decision to put her to sleep. I am angry I am here and she is not. I am angry that I cannot see her anymore.

The only encouragement I can offer anyone is that like all of you that have responded, there are lots of us that understand how heart-wrenching losing our pets is and can be. That helps me see that my grief is understandable and that I am not crazy and that if others can get through this, than I can too.

Again, thank all of you that have responded. I will continue to keep all in my thoughts and prayers.

PreciousPrincess'Mom,
It sounds like you've had a miserable few days, and I'm so sorry for your loss and grief. Like you, I can hear and know things logically, and try to distract myself, but in the end, the pain just comes rolling back. It hangs over everything, there's a sense that it will never be gone, because our little loved ones won't be back where we can physically see and pet and hold them. Sometimes I wonder how the world goes on, and how people can endure, when there is so much grief. And I wonder if I should maybe not love people or animals so much that it can cause so much pain when they're gone. Does that make sense? Sometimes I feel like I'm being just incredibly selfish, mourning a cat who's not right beside me anymore, when there are living people and pets here who want and need my attention. But I just can't seem to help it, and I find myself crying and tormenting myself with questions and just not coping. Everytime I think I have a handle on this, and that there is a glimmer of hope, something will happen and I feel myself fall apart again. I just want my little girl-cat back, darn it. And I know that won't happen, and it's such a helpless feeling, not having control over every aspect of my life or my pets' lives - as if I ever did, of course.

I do find comfort, like you do, in knowing that people do survive this and can even help each other through these times. I try to find meaning in every event, good or bad, in my life, and maybe the ability to communicate and comfort others in the depths of our own despair, is part of why these traumatic things happen. I don't want to think too deeply about that, because there's a road I really don't want to go down - "Why" is a question I'm not sure will ever be answered in this lifetime, about anything.

Reading back over this I feel like I've really jumbled up my thoughts, but hopefully they can be understood. Please know, I feel your grief, and I take comfort in your words, and the words of everyone who is reaching out to help us through our anguish.

Thank you, all.

Scatsmom,

I know I shouldn't be too surprised, but it amazes me how much you feel exactly as I do. First, I am so sorry that you are grieving so deeply too and my heart aches for you having to feel such pain. Second, I wanted to share that I too am torn between the grief and guilt I feel over my sweet Ashley and the guilt I feel even feeling such emotions when my I have still so much to be grateful for. I mean, I cannot imagine how awful it would be to lose my husband who is my soulmate and best friend. I find myself crying and apologizing to him at the same time and praying to God that he won't take my husband from me to show me what "true" grief would be like. (Does that make sense?) Like "yeah it's bad to lose your dog, but look how bad it is now without your husband."

Truly I do not know what I would do without my wonderful husband, but again I feel so much that my grief is a burden to him. I know he grieves the loss of Ashley too, yet must be strong for me. I know he is upset at my tormenting myself and at a loss as to how to make it all better. And in truth, he cannot. Only time can do that I suppose. But I guess it is my guilt over being a burden to him (or feeling as if I am) that is another reason for turning to this board and you (and others like us.)

And you know time is going so slowly and just like you "everytime I think I have a handle on this, and that there is a glimmer of hope, something will happen and I feel myself fall apart again. "And I don't know about you, but I feel guilty for even feeling that moment where I am not sad. It is like I feel I am betraying my Ashley by already having a moment of not being sad when it has only been 5 days since she died. I feel guilty to try and eat since she cannot. I guess I feel guilty to be alive when she is not. I feel guilty to try and "go on" when she cannot. I worry about everything and like you wish for the one thing I cannot have - her back.

Anyway, like you, I feel comforted reading your words and knowing there is someone that feels exactly like I do (and I know others do as well.) Thank you for taking the time to express your feelings and your thoughts and your support. And please know too that I feel your pain and grief too.

Yes, I think a lot of the folks here have "been there, done that" and have wisdom and words that are about all we have as comfort at this time. Just as I'm amazed that people survive and live through great losses - pets, people, homes, communities, etc - I'm also amazed and grateful that they take the time to help us through our worst hours. Just when I think that I can't read one more story or hear one more thing about man's inhumanity to other living creatures, I see or hear something that reaffirms my faith in mankind. This board is like that. I think maybe I'd be collapsed on the floor sobbing half the day and tearing my hair out if left to my own devices. Luckily, I know those impulses are normal so I don't have to act on them to that extreme.

I know what you mean about the family and their good intentions, bless their hearts. My kids were all with me that night and now they're very solicitous of me, and asking if they can help. But they're kind of at a loss, because they don't want me to start crying again (which I try not to do) but they want to comfort me. A few of them have had significant losses in their lives, too, but looking back, they seemed to handle those losses with a lot more grace than I'm showing now. I know there's no way to compare or quantify grief, but this is one time when I wish I were giving a better example to my kids about a lesson this important.

Do you have a part of the day where it's worse for you? I have trouble right around 7 PM, when I found Magic. I sit on the couch where she was lying and live it all over again, and I just tell her that I love her and always will and I miss her so much - well, I'm sure you know the words, I think everyone here does. And I see my other cats do sweet or funny or cute things and I wish they wouldn't, because remembering them one day doing those things will break my heart all over again. But I gotta love them, just as I gotta love my kids (I don't even contemplate the kids not being here one day - God forbid). I have a sense that it's almost like seeing an accident about to happen - someone or somepet will die and I swear, I will go stark raving crazy. Cause this sort of pain just can't be sustained over and over, can it?

And yet people do survive it and go on and even help other people through these things. I guess in the end I just have to say "Thank you again", and please know that you all, and your furbabies, are in my thoughts and prayers.

After reading this thread I am in tears. I wish I had found this site three months ago when I rushed my toy poodle to the emergency hospital in the middle of the night. I had no idea as we drove there that I was counting down the last 2 hours of my baby's life. I had to be strong and make the decision to release him from his pain and let him sleep. IT WAS SO HARD. His xrays showed a large dark mass completely covering his stomach area - you couldn't see any of his intestines. After he was gone I planted kisses all over his beautiful body and rested my head on him and cried. I didn't want to go on. I didn't want to believe it. This couldn't be happening! I love him!!!

When I left the vet that night I brought his sweet little body home with me. He looked so peaceful "sleeping" on the pillow. I kept him for a whole day. I talked to him and kissed him and brushed his hair a little. I even clipped his toe nails. I was in denial. But my loss was easier to cope with because I could still touch him. I am glad I brought him home. He is burried next to the house now. I've gone through the denial, guilt, anger, lonliness and depression. I had never been to the depths of despair like that before. My own sadness was frightening to me. I lost interest in tv, music, eating and "possessions" and an incredible lonliness settled over me that made me afraid to be in a room by myself for a while. All I did all day long was cry - even at work. As time goes on I am able to look at his picture again without breaking down. I still cry but the tears are getting more gentle now. I feel for those who have just lost their babies a few days ago. I know how heartbreaking it is. It does help to hear that others have survived this. I am starting to feel some hope again. I look forward to the day when the pain is gone and only smiles and good memories remain.

Scatsmom,

You mention that you wish you were giving a better lesson to your children right now. I am obviously no authority, but first of all, I think that all of us are doing the very best we can and second and most importantly you are teaching your children that it is okay to grieve for a pet and that pets have important and special places in our lives. Much better that they see you grieve so than to not grieve at all - what a cold person you would be then. Grief is not always graceful the pain is too great to be kept nice and tidy, but you are honoring Magic's life and memories. If I had children I would want them to see that it is okay, though horribly painful, to grieve those that we loved and lost.

You ask if there is a worse part of the day for me. Right now it seems all parts are the worst. I think because I have not been going to work, that right now the worst parts are the moments when I wake up in the night and the realization that my sweet Ashley is gone forever, hits me like a ton of bricks. But I suspect now that I am going to try and return to work that it will be the moment I return home from work. I used to arrive home well before my husband and rush to see my princess. She would follow me around while I changed clothes or sit at my feet while I checked my emails or sit in the kitchen with me while I cleaned up and got stuff out for dinner. I would talk to her pretty much constantly, though in the last year I don't think she could hear me since she was deaf, so I would stop to pet her often. I think that is going to be my hardest time now.

Anyway, like you, I feel that any more tragedy would send me over the edge, but also like you I know that people survive this and other tragedies. I just long for more moments of peace rather than this incessant torment and pain and wish (both selfishly and for those watching me suffer) that the peace would come sooner rather than later.

Angelbaby,

I am so very sorry for your loss. I know how hard it was for you to make the decision to release your baby, as all of here that have done so know. I still torment myself that it was the right thing even logically knowing my Ashley wasn't getting better but was suffering. I still question, could I have done more, should I have done more, etc.?

I wish that you had found this site earlier too as for me it has brought some measure of comfort. Like you did though I am in the part of having lost interest in everything, barring my sweet and wonderful husband and my family. And in fact, I am in the sobbing on the floor wanting to pull my hair out stage that Scatsmom mentioned she might do if left to her own devices. When my husband isn't here, I do that (sob on the floor and scream (but don't pull my hair out.)

However, I am glad to hear that you are getting better and that the "tears are getting more gentle now" for you, as again, such words bring me hope. And I know this means for you, your pain is lessening.


Again, I thank you all and pray we will all know peace and relief from our pain.

Thank you for your kind words. It's so exhuasting being sad. I still have this feeling in my chest (the Dr. finally diagnosed it as "muscle tension"). I feel like the only way that I can relieve it is to SCREAM in desperation at the top of my lungs. But I don't have anywhere private to scream so I keep it in. Sometimes I'm afraid if I kick or throw something I might feel better but I don't want my sweet little Toffee-angel to think I am mad at him. He was such a gentle, delicate little guy and went through so much neglect, abuse and finally abandonment from his previous owners - that he wouldn't recognize me if I behaved that way. Toffee brought out such a gentle love in me - he was only 6 lbs. I am still so deeply in love with that little boy. Sometimes I think his memory is like a balloon and I am holding tight to the string vowing NEVER to let go - but the balloon keeps gently floating higher and higher.... "Toffee, come back!! Come back!!" "I'll never let go!" I long to sink my face in your white poodle curls and take a deep breathe. I had so many plans for this winter. I was going to buy a soft rocking chair that I could rock him in every night. He loved motion. I was going to put the lamps on a timer so it would never be too dark. And rearrange the furniture because he loved to run - he would run and I would laugh.

My family thinks my crying is getting old. My daughters (18 & 20), sadly, weren't close to Toffee and didn't spend much time with him... so I mourn alone and have no one to comfort. I am embarrased to say that one of my daughters said "he's just a dog. go see a psychiatrist". I am glad to know that there isn't anything wrong with me grieving for such a long time and others feel the way I do. I have to nurture the belief that we will meet again - or life would be too unbearable.

Carol,

I'm so not trying to hijack your thread here, it just makes me crazy when people say stuff like AngelBaby's daughter said to her. "...just a dog" Sheesh!


AngelBaby,
Have your daughter take a look at this site: http://psychcentral.com/library/id401.html

It's a Psychology and Mental Health specific site. The do%%ent is a bit brief compared to others I've seen, but this was the best I could come up with on short notice. It may help her to understand that Toffee was most certainly not "just a dog".

There are plenty of other articles on the topic all over the Internet. Try this link to Google for more links: http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=mourn...e+loss+of+a+pet

It's been over nine and a half months since my Qorqui was killed, and I still find myself in tears at least a couple times a week. Without this site and the wonderful friends I've met here like Kim R., I truly doubt I'd have been able to stay sane through it all.

Take good care of yourselves,
Tim

QorquisDad

I found that website helpful just for me. It helped me understand more how I am feeling. (Maybe I
will send her the link in an email.) Thanks for finding it.

I miss my little Toffee.

what you said right here, is exactly how i am feeling too. today was a hard day, my boyfriend was at work and my kids are at thier dads, so i was home alone.

I left today to go christmas shopping, but it felt empty. its just junk for someone else that they probably wont even remember who gave them the gift once its open. then i had to come home.

when i came home, i didnt even bring the stuff in, i walked through the door and yelled for my dog, and it was like someone kicked me in the head, i instanly started to cry. i saw his bed in front on the fireplace, his stocking on the mantle that is now empty, because i put his Seattle Seahawk jacket up on the wall over his small shrine.

I too just want my dog back for christmas. i miss him so much. im wearing his dog collar as a bracelet, just because i miss the sound of his tags jingling. and sometimes i forget, and ill move my arm and hear the noise and start to look for him.

I had to drive by the humane society today, and thats where i took him to be creamated. he was to be creamated today, i for a moment wanted to drive in there and take my dog back!
now i know where they got the story for the movie pet cementary.

i go to work tomorrow, and a few of my coworkers know of my dog and his illness and now i have to tell them that he died. its gonna be very hard, and i would come home for lunch to feed him, because he was sick for the past 6 wks. now i dont know what to do, if i should come home or just stay there.

today wasnt to bad, i cried pretty good after driving by the humane society, and when i came home. but for the rest of the day, i would rate it at as 4 out of 10. 10 being excellent. the weekend was brutal, it was definately a 0 out of 10.

my boyfriend misses him too, he is a in home tech, and went to a customers house today, and guess what met him at the door? a weiner dog, he said it was hard. and then he had a long drive back and said he almost went to a pet store and got another dog. lol. then i told him i was at the humane society thrift store and they have cats in there, and one really caught my attention, so i told him i almost brought a cat home. but we decided to wait until march to look for a pound puppy.
he never had pets growing up, so having Smokey in his life for the past 2 yrs has affected him.

speaking of cats, my poor cat is lost. i barely saw her today, and she has been hiding out the past few days, and when she is around , she is really loving. her and the dog use to run around the house together. i had her first before i was given Smokey.

well hun, i so know how you feel, my smokey left me friday nite, so i have had only a few days to deal with it. and with the holidays here, its very difficult. I hate the end of the year to begin with, the worst things that happen to me are at the end of the year and couldnt even begin to think of anything more worst than losing my Smokey.

Ill always love my dog, I lost another dog before christmas 8 yrs ago. so i have a picture of him out along with my Smokey.

well wishes to you, and your family.

Angelbaby,

Thank you for sharing more of your story. I am glad to know that I am not the only one that misses burying my face in my baby's soft fur and taking a deep breath. I know I mentioned in a previous post that it was upsetting to me that I could no longer smell Ashley in the house. I have a confession, I was so trying to find her smell in the house that I even tried to sniff the carpet where she had had an accident (which there were plenty of those places in the last month - I guess it had to do with her being sick.) I feel ashamed of that, but it seemed (seems) so upsetting that she could live in that house for over seven years (since my husband and I married) and I could not (cannot) smell her anywhere in the house any longer even where she had an accident on the carpet. At the time, I wished I hadn't cleaned the carpet so well. (I know - crazy.) I kept some of her hair and I sniff that - but it is not the same. I am beginning to accept that I cannot smell her anymore and never will - though I will always long for her and her smell.

You mentioned that the only way to relieve the pain in your chest is to scream but that you have nowhere to do that. How about in the car? Now that I have returned to work, I just barely get up in time to get ready and go to work, I cry as I get ready, but can't scream as my husband is still there. So I have screamed to let out the "tension" in my chest, while driving to work. I am glad to also know that I am not the only one who feels this "tension" in my chest. I sometimes think "I am going to have a heart attack" and that thought is promptly followed by "Well if I do at least I should get to see Ashley again." I feel sometimes as if I cannot get a deep breath due to the pain in my chest and stomach.

I am sorry that your daughters have not been much support; that makes grieving ever so much more difficult. I guess in the long run, I have been very lucky that my husband and my brother and my friends have been pretty supportive. It seems to be only my parents that conveyed the attitude of it being "only a dog." But I don't know who talked to them, maybe my husband, maybe my grandmother (who experienced the same profound grief when she had to put her cat to sleep), but they have been more understanding these last few days. But, know Angelbaby that regardless of the lack of support you are getting from your daughters that while I should not speak for everyone, I think it safe to say that we (here on this site) here do support you. We may be complete strangers to you, but we are thinking of you and praying for you and knowing exactly what you are going through. (I will say that regardless of the kindness offered, that my questions and guilt make it difficult to accept any support from anyone. More on this...)

Tim (QorquisDad),

I thank you for links provided and would never feel as if you stole my thread, especially when you are offering links to help all of us through this time.

I, in fact looked at the first link and found it provided me some comfort, especially with regard to the "guilt" part as it appears others have problems with guilt too. I don't know about the rest of you, but I have been tormenting myself so much that I should have done more. For those of you who "knew" there was nothing more to do, I guess I envy that knowledge. But for me, I have been tormenting myself that despite what the vet said, I didn't "know" that my Ashley couldn't have been fixed. The guilt now has been and still does, eat me alive. The guilt has been so strong that I truly thought yesterday that I could not live with it and wished my life could end.

I spent an hour talking to the vet last evening and having him go over and over my questions. He said that he does not want to see animals suffer and that if Ashley was going to get better she would have done so on the meds he put her on the week before she died. He said her level of jaundice indicated liver damage beyond repair. I asked if he would have put his own dog to sleep in her condition ("Yes") or would he have done tests to make sure she was not fixable ("No") I asked all the questions that tormented and still torment me, like what about the food I gave her to try and eat the last week of her death (what if what we tried to feed her caused her to be sick, what if that is what kept her from getting better on the meds) What about the one day the week before she died that she actually acted like she felt better and even semi-wagged her tail that one day? Maybe she was getting better and we didn't give her enough time. And my questions and the torments go on and on. The vet tried to help me, but I found myself thinking "well, what else would you or could you say now?"

My husband finally said something to me that helped some. He said "what would the vet have to gain from recommending you end Ashley's life prematurely?" And in that moment I realized, the vet would have had nothing to gain. If anything, he had more to gain for his business by having Ashley go through all sorts of tests (more money). My husband pointed out that the vet obviously loves animals and he is not in the business to get rich (don't know a lot of vets these days that would spend an hour (+) talking with a grieving Mom for free when he could be going home to his wife and kids.) And then I knew the vet's words were true - he could have done all the tests but he can't or couldn't have fixed my 14 year old baby and that ultimately he did not want her to suffer. He (the vet) told me that had I waited any longer, she would have begun to really suffer, have more seizures (think she had one Monday before she died) and not know me any longer. He said I would have felt far worse had that happened and if I had said "do all the tests" I would have felt worse had she died alone in the cage at his vet clinic.

I would have too. I think I realize truly she was suffering, and that as everyone who saw her before she died (including the vet) if anything Ashley was thinking "thank you for putting me out of this pain."

So, I ended her suffering, but I find I can't stop thinking that yeah, maybe she was suffering but maybe it was fixable. I just wish that I could stop thinking that maybe during that last week I should have done some tests or should not have fed her this or that (she only ate three times that whole week and threw up 2 of those meals - so to be honest anything she thought she wanted to eat, I gave to her to try and give her strength). I cannot stop thinking that it was something I did (the food I fed her) or did not do (should have shot the prescription diet she wouldn't eat down her throat to give her strength) or did or did not say to the vet that would have changed his mind or indicated there was hope. I find I hate myself that now I have all these doubts and questions, but these did not occur to me when he (the vet) was saying that she needed to be put to sleep. I was so upset and disbelieving about his recommendation that I was a wimp. I was afraid to ask the questions or tell on myself about what I had done or what I hadn't done.

Now as I said before the guilt eats me alive. I can no longer see logic in my decision. I can only think even the night before she died she wanted to eat (thanks to the steroid, amoxicillin and reglan shot ?), but maybe that indicated hope, but maybe it was the fried chicken leg my husband gave her that she shouldn't have had (and I didn't say "don't give that to her" - I was thinking "well, at least she actually is acting interested in something.") But maybe that made her sicker.

I guess it is like the link you provided Tim where the article said there are unanswered questions sometimes that makes this more difficult. If anyone can help me through my guilt, it would be much appreciated.

Smokey's Mom

I continue to feel the same as you do about Christmas. I have presents to buy, presents to wrap and I find I don't care. It is so hard to see any dog that looks like my Ashley, so I understand what your boyfriend was feeling to see another weiner dog.

Tim and Smokey's Mom, thanks for sharing with me and I am sorry for both of your losses.

I will pray for all of us that are hurting and I ask that all of you please pray for me. I just want to know that what I did was the right thing and I find no one can give me relief from this guilt.

I confess too, I saved the last "puppy pad" my Toffee went on for over a month. When my baby passed on I called in sick to work and then had to work the next 6 days in a row because they were short staff. I cried inbetween customers. My employer who had just lost her dog a year before - said that I would feel better after a couple of months. I was in disbelief. There was no way I could endure this intense sorrow for that long. To get through the long days at work I would not let myself think of Toffee until I had a day off where I could cry without holding it in. So every time a thought of Toffee came to mind (which was every second) I said, "I'm sorry, Toffee. I love you, but I can't cry now. No more thoughts until Sunday. Come back on Sunday, baby." And of course my eyes would fill with tears but I would take a deep breath and feel better - finding comfort that on Sunday I could let loose and cry an ocean of tears. I looked forward to Sunday. My guilt was very strong at first too. I started realizing that I had seem little signs but didn't know it. Even in his last moments I wish I could have wrapped my arms around him and held him close but he was in such pain and I didn't want to hurt him. I don't know what you do about the guilt. We all acted totally out of love, as much as it hurted us. I finally started listening to my thoughts and wrote down all the hateful things I kept saying to myself that were recirculating around in my mind and causing me so much guilt and then wrote an answer back to them. That did help the guilt to subside a little. I had a list of about 20 mean thoughts that I kept abusing myself with. Sometimes these thoughts still sneak back in but they have less and less credibility when measured to the great love that I have for my little guy. TOFFEE, I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER SWEETHEART. YOU ARE ALWAYS IN MY THOUGHTS.

In a way, I think one of the hardest things to deal with (when I'm not thinking about all the OTHER things that hurt now) is the fact that we as humans cannot change what has happened. Well, I guess that's fairly obvious, but in this world when we can fix so much - put a man on the moon, take a pill for a headache, press a button and have our bills paid online, etc etc, all the unimportant things that exist to make our lives easier - when it comes to the deaths of our pets, there is nothing to make us feel better faster. I know grief is a normal part of life, and we have to live through pain in order to appreciate joy, but again, it's one of those things you know intellectually but have difficulty with in practical terms. I know I have to accept that my Magic is gone but I just don't want to! I'm having extra difficulty with this because I truly know that she's in a better place, and I have no doubt that I'll see her again, and she is safe with God, and what does my attitude say about my faith if I'm having so much trouble accepting that she's gone? It's such a contradiction, and I don't like contradictions - they're not rational. So how can I possibly reconcile Magic's loss with my faith? I'm really wrestling with that.

Another hard thing for me is that I have so many questions about what happened to her, and I'll never know. She hadn't been sick, she was fairly young, she'd been eating and playing and hissing at the other cats (the poor thing had never been socialized, living in that sewer), so I don't know why she lay down to sleep and never woke up. The only comfort in that, so far, is that she showed no sign of distress - her claws were retracted, her eyes just a little bit open, she was just sort of curled up and comfy-looking, so whatever happened was sudden and seemingly painless. And I do take comfort in that, knowing that so many pets out there suffer so much before they leave. But like all of you, I just keep questioning why it happened, what could I have done differently, how can I keep this from happening again? And right now, from this perspective and only one week out, the questions just circle and circle like vultures. I wonder if life will ever be normal again (whatever normal is, it's not THIS). I'm sort of relieved to know that I'm not the only one with thoughts of "Well, if something happens to me, at least I'll be with my pet again." That thought has passed through my head and I really wonder if I'm crazy, cause I don't really want that. I have my family, and my other pets, and I'm convinced no one will care for them if I can't.

And I know what you mean about those physical reminders of Ashley, PreciousPrincess'Mom. Like most households with pets, there are little stains, and of course loose fur, all over our house. In spite of my efforts to clean them up, they never really go away, and now, I don't ever want them to, because some of them were Magic's. When we found her gone last week, her mouth had relaxed, and she'd always drooled when she purred, anyway, so there was a drool spot on the sofa, and I sit there and touch it everynight. I sort of get irritated if any of the kids parks his binder or coat there now - silly, but there it is. It'll always be a reminder of Magic. In fact, I wonder sometimes how we'll ever sell this house, because like most military families, we'll probably move again. Now that Heidi and now Magic have passed away in this house, I don't know how we could do that. I guess I'll just grow old here with my pets and my memories, and my husband and kids can come visit me.

I really don't know what I'd do without this forum. Some of the things I read and write here, I would have difficulty sharing with the people around me. I have periods during the day when I feel so bleak and sad, but now I have an outlet, and even if it's painful thinking about some things, knowing that people care and feel some of the same emotions, really does help. Again, thanks for listening, folks.

Scatsmom and Angelbaby,

I was so glad to read your responses as they made me feel so much better again regarding my "crazy" actions. I thought after I posted about trying to smell Ashley in the house, even the spots where she had had an accident before, that people were going to see if they could track me down and have me committed. It comforts me to know that others feel the same way about the smell of their baby or the stains left by their baby, good or bad. I also feel comforted that others would find it difficult to leave their homes because their babies had lived there. My husband and I have been fixing up our house with the intention that we would sell it fairly soon. But I found myself thinking the other day "I can't do that" Ashley (and Nanuq our other dog) lived here. What if she (they) came back to find us and we were gone?"

Scatsmom, I too am having difficulty accepting that I cannot change what has now happened. And as before the guilt that perhaps I could have now eats me alive. I think another element for me is that I am not overly religous and every since Ashley has died, I have heard different things from "believers" about whether she will be in heaven or is in heaven (yes she will versus no she won't.) This makes getting comfort and peace a bit difficult. I want to believe I will see her again but I guess because my faith is not "strong" that I have doubts and when believers of the same faith have different opinions, it certainly doesn't help me.

Scatsmom, I also have doubts whether my life will ever be normal again. I wonder if I can ever forgive myself for guilts I feel. I bought another book on pet loss and it says guilt is one of the strongest emotions people feel after pet loss and that it accompanies every phase of the grieving process (denial, anger, bargaining, etc.) Boy I can certainly attest to that. As I said in my last post, I think of everything I should or should not have done, said or not said, etc. and whether doing or not doing these things would have changed the outcome. Ultimately it is as my brother said, I want to change what happened and I cannot. I know and the book says that (as do others I talk with), that I must stop focusing on my guilt. My husband I think wants to shoot me sometimes. He says he doesn't mind that I am grieving, but he cannot stand to see me torment myself and look for every little thing to beat myself up about. I know he feels obligated to make me feel better and despite my saying to him "I don't want you to feel responsible for fixing me" perhaps I do want him to make me feel better. I know that is a burden he does not need. At the same time I am just as frustrated at him for not understanding how difficult this is for me. He told me last night that he is scared that his wife has been changed forever and that he will never have his wife back and that all he wants was the woman he married. I feel for his fears. I know that at some point I will be his wife again; I know I am different now (and in some respects will always be different). I just can't get over this so quickly. (It has only been one week and one day.)

I really do feel crazy sometimes and I like you Scatsmom, am so grateful to have this forum to express the thoughts that torment me; the thoughts that truly I don't want to express to others for fear of their reactions.

Angelbaby,

I like your suggestion of writing down the hateful thoughts that torment me and then answering them. That is actually what the book I read on pet loss suggested doing as well. I can see that helping (if I can be rational enough to answer back the hateful thoughts with rational thoughts.)

Thank you all so much for listening. I truly am grateful for all of your words of comfort and support and your sharing of the feelings. It helps to make me feel not so crazy and alone.

Hey Carol,

After reading through your last post, I had a couple thoughts that you may want to consider...

I heard different things too. Including from clergy folk who I had expected should "know" the answers to my questions. So, I began to read everything I could find on the topic, mostly on the Internet.

What I found was that, aside from a few kook sites, most established religions (even Islam), have begun to embrace the idea that animals, and especially companion animals, do go somewhere special for their afterlife. They're not just gone as was previously believed. Even the Pope has made statements to this effect in recent years.

The whole Rainbow Bridge concept... Appears (to me) to be pulled right out of old Norse mythology. Being of Norse heritage, this kinda caught my interest. Plus, I'm of the belief that most myths start with some element of truth. So, in my mind, it's at least worth exploring.

So, don't just take what you hear and let it add to your confusion. Dig around. Read everything you can find on the topic. Make your own decision as to what YOU believe based on what you can find.

For me, I'm more convinced than ever that Qorqui is safe, happy, and somewhere she can literally live on forever. I'm hopeful that wherever that somewhere is, I'll get to be a part of it with her when the time comes.

Just don't try to answer anything right away. Write down some of the thoughts that haunt you the most and leave 'em be for a while. Later, give a shot at answering. If it's hateful, leave it and try again later.

It's only been a week and a day since you lost Ashley. Don't expect much along the line of rational thought when it comes to these feelings yet. I like to think of myself as a fairly rational and logical person. It was several months before I was able to fully process the idea that Qorqui was gone and start to rationally deal with it. Even then, there was (and still is, but getting weaker) this feeling of responsibility that I should some how have known in advance and done something different that day and Qorqui would still be where she belongs, at home with me.

Tim

As a christian, I strongly believe that animals go to Heaven. In Isaiah 11 : 6-8 , the bible states:

6 The wolf will lie down with the lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling together
and a little child will lead them
7 The cow will feed with the bear,
their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
8 The infant will play near the hole of the cobra,
and the young child put his hand into the vipor's nest

In Genesis 1: 20-25, it speaks of how God directly created all living things, and refers directly to ocean animals, livestock, birds, and wildlife, and that he gave them each breath( but it is just to much for me to type !)

There is nothing in the Bible that states outright that animals definately go to Heaven, but there are so many comparisons to animals and man on a common plane when it talks of life and death, so why should their souls be treated any differently? There is a contraversal sentence in Revalations when it refers to entering the gates of Heaven. it (Revalation 22:14-15) states:

14 Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life and may go through the gates into the city.
15 Outside are the dogs, those who practice magic arts, the sexually immoral,the murderes, the idolators and everyone who loves and practices falsehood.

I can't imagine our faithful friends being put in the same category with such rogues, and since dogs as a species aren't really discussed in the Bible, maybe dogs weren't even called dogs when it was written!?! I sincerely hope that this doesn't mean literally what it says. It has been taught to me by my religious teachers that this is an interpretation, and that the word dogs was used as a descriptive term ( especially when you think about how many other animals that are mentioned previously, and dogs are certainly closer to man than they are). My pastor, as with most, admits he doesn't have an answer as to whether or not animals go to Heaven since it isn't written out clearly in the Bible, only mentioning things that are open for interpretation, but he says he certainly feels like Heaven just wouldn't be Heaven without ALL of our loved ones there with us.....

There are just too many unexplained things in this world to not believe in some kind of afterlife. I guess we just have to believe....what else can we do. The thought of an eternity without Sasha WOULD be hell to me, so I can't believe that is part of God's plan. For those who don't believe in Heaven.....I would certainly rather believe and be wrong, than not believe and be banned from an eternity with my furbabies !
Your friend in grief,
Kim

The Rainbow Bridge wasn't very comforting for me at first, but now it is. One day I was laying on my bed crying for my Toffee and when I got up, wiping the tears from my face, I was amazed by the huge rainbow that was practically right outisde my window. Usually when we see rainbows they are off in the distance. My first reaction was "it's just a rainbow" and I walked away crying but then, I don't know, it was so unusual I went back to the window and sat down and stared at it. I had never seen a rainbow so huge and so close before. It was the complete arch and the colors were not at all faded they were clear and bright. It was heavenly. It didn't seem like the type of weather for a rainbow. At the time I didn't want to associate it with the "Rainbow Bridge" but I later read about other people's experiences with rainbows after their pet passed on and it made me wonder...

The rainbow was so big I had to turn my head all the way to the left to see one end of it and then turn my head all the way to the right to see the other end. Maybe all the other rainbows I've seen off in the distance were for someone else... but honestly, I think this one was just for me.

"knock and the door will be opened" I still need more... I miss my baby. I need to see him. I need to HOLD him... I feel such an emptiness inside. When you are crying for your baby - don't just cry - knock on the door with your heart and ASK for a sign.

Just a quick follow up on my last post......I just returned home from church and I feel much better now ! We had a guest pastor and I mentioned this subject to him. I asked him about that part about the dogs being left outside the gates of Heaven. He carried a very old Bible with him, and he turned to that verse to show me that it clearly says "those who deny God" instead of dogs. It IS a discriptive word, not meaning our canine friends at all, !! I think I'll buy a different version of Bible ! I hate to be so excited about this, but to me it is HUGE!!!
Kim

Hi all,

I was really interested to read all the previous posts - it's begun to be one of the better parts of my day to visit this forum and know that I'm not alone in all of these crazy, almost uncontrollable feelings which wash over me during the day.

I too sometimes feel that my husband is losing patience with me during this time. I know that he would deny that, and maybe it's only me projecting onto him MY impatience with myself for not feeling better faster. Part of the problem is that I've kind of always had a depressive tendency (I guess that's pretty obvious) and this grief only exacerbates it now. At one point for several years I was on antidepressants and who knows - maybe that's helped me get to where I am now in my life. Over the past week I've thought about seeing a therapist, and my husband thinks I should, and so maybe that will be a step I take. I hadn't even known there were books about pet loss, but then I haven't been in a book store lately. All this craziness with the holiday season, with shopping and cleaning and getting ready for visitors, takes up so much time, and it's just overwhelming to even think about getting through the next week. As AngelBaby said, it's so exhausting to be sad. Maybe if this had happened during the spring, or summer - well, there's no good time for this ever to happen, but I feel such an obligation to my family to feel better during the holiday season. I think they, and especially my husband, expect me to be happier, and so I try to force myself, and then I'm not, and it just kind of turns into a vicious cycle. And so I end up telling myself to just endure, endure, and this will too will pass. I hope. No, I know it will, it's just taking so long, and it's so painful. My husband tries to do nice things for me, and my kids know I feel bad, and they all must wonder what it will take to get me to be myself again. The obvious thing - that I need my kitty back - isn't going to happen.

It's comforting to think of being with my cats again one day - I think deep down I expect that to happen, but it's nice to hear reassuring things about that. I really can't tell you what a relief it is to know that other people share that belief, cause it's just not something I really talk with other people about. It's comforting to hear that, and since it's hard to find anything comforting these days, I appreciate other people sharing their experiences. If anything gets me through these days, other than my family and other pets, it's the knowledge that people care enough to share these things. I know that someday and somehow there will be a rainbow for all of us.

To all of you that have responded since my last post, I most sincerely thank you. I cannot begin to express how much each and every one of your words helps me deal with the loss of my Ashley and helps me to have hope of seeing her again.

I, like Angelbaby said she felt at first, have not necessarily found comfort from the Rainbow Bridge story. I think that for me that is because Ashley was always sort of one of those dogs that didn't ever seem to be too happy with anyone but me. (She was not especially social (I blame that on the fact that I worked nights for about the first ~5 years of her life, so when she and I were out in the day, everyone else was working and when we were up, everyone was sleeping so she wasn't socialized to other people or animals too much.)) Anyway, I guess I worry that she wouldn't be happy there at Rainbow Bridge if I wasn't there. I hope that doesn't make me seem narcissistic; I guess I just knew how my dog felt about me and would worry about her being sad without me.

Anyway, I do find it especially comforting what you said Kim R. about what you discussed with the guest pastor at your church. I have to admit the first part you wrote was pretty scary to me (about the dogs being outside heaven) but I felt relieved by the different version that you shared with us where the pastor's version of the Bible said "those who deny God" versus dogs are outside of heaven. I must admit it is the different versions of the Bible and the different interpretations of the Bible that makes my belief system weak I suppose. And again, I guess this leads me to have doubts about where my sweet bear is and whether I will see her again. (I have asked for a sign that Ashley is okay and happy and because I haven't had one, I think "maybe she isn't happy, maybe she is mad at me for killing her, maybe I made the wrong decision for the wrong reasons and don't deserve peace", (and so on.))

I guess I will have to do as you suggested Tim and do research into the matter. I love and want to find evidence to support my beliefs of getting to see her again. I will have to wait on that though as other than this site, I have promised myself and my family to stay away from the Internet, as I find I am drawn to sites dealing with pet health and then I find myself doubting my decision and doubting whether Ashley could have been fixed and again wondering whether I put her to sleep too soon. (Again the guilt.)

I am glad to know that you too Tim (and others here as well) have had difficulties having rational thoughts about your babies and your decisions. I actually had a moment of clear thinking yesterday wherein I was emailing a friend about Ashley and her illness and my decision to euthanise her. When writing that email I realized again that my decision was based on what I perceived to be my Ashley's poor quality of life. I also realized that even if there could have been a bit more that I could have done (or things I should not have done?) Ashley was 14+ years old. She had only done briefly well after her bout of pancreatitis in August (and believe me I did not give in and give her things she should not eat until the end when I was desperate to try and get her to eat anything) and after her diagnosis of chronic renal failure. She was almost blind and she was mostly deaf. (She could barely hear me when I screamed at the top of my lungs.) In the last months, I felt bad because we (my husband and I) would "scare" her because she couldn't hear us coming. I knew that she mourned Nanuq and with the loss of her hearing, I know this made for an even more lonely, quiet, non-stimulating existence for her. All she did all day was sleep. She began having episodes of incontinence and/or more accidents and thus, I had to crate Ashley or I put her in a little "area" I created in the kitchen which she disliked. Then as I said in my first post, she pretty much quit eating and then the whole jaundice and deterioration stuff occurred. I even felt bad that I could no longer give her the table scraps she always loved. (Although the last two weeks of her life, I tried everything just to get food down her.) So I thought logically A) what quality of life did she really have with or without the liver issues? and finally even if she had her liver fixed and this somewhat improved her appetite and strength, she was 14 years old, deaf, almost blind, with chronic renal failure, weak and sad and lonely except when I was with her, and what with work and sleep this time together was truly only a few hours every day.

Thinking those thoughts made me more accepting again of the choice I made and made as I feel so badly that she really had such a poor quality of life. Would I have wanted to live this way? I think not.

Having those moments of relief made me feel so much better. I actually felt like I had a bit of energy yesterday evening. But wow, it is amazing how quickly and easily the guilty thoughts come stealing back to rob me of my sanity and my desire for a normal happy life. I feel like I am back to square one today and the thoughts that provided me comfort yesterday today provide none. I am trying to be patient with myself as you suggested Tim, but it is so hard. I want relief and yet I don't want it because if I have relief from the guilt I feel, then I must move on and must go on with my life without my Ashley. Then I will feel guilty that my dog provided me with love and companionship for 14 years and yet I am capable of moving or must move on so quickly.

Scatsmom, like you I suppose I have depressive tendencies. The books I have read on pet loss have helped to some degree as this site does. I guess as the books suggested though, we each grieve in our own way and in own timetable. I think there is absolutely nothing wrong with seeing a therapist about the loss of your Magic. I in fact, had my brother (who sees a therapist) ask his therapist for names of someone I could see myself. (By the way, I ordered the books on pet loss right from Amazon.com as my local bookstore only had two books on the subject (and one was one I already had given to me by a friend) and ultimately ordering online was much easier. I had the books "rushed" to my house.) I know it feels forced now, but truly we must do what we can to move on in our lives, if not just for ourselves, but for those that love us. Too, I don't know about you, but I cannot stand this constant pain and guilt and grief. I want to know relief and peace.

Again thank you all for your words of support. It helps me tremendously.

I know what you mean about the moments of relief and peace followed by guilt and sadness again. This whole process of grieving is such a roller-coaster, and the kind that makes you sick, besides, not the kind you want to ride again.

I had one of those "relief" moments today which was kind of strange. I've sent contributions to Alley Cat Allies through the years (an organization which promotes the use of trap, neuter and return for feral cats), and I received a holiday card from them today. The cover of the card was a picture of a cat peering through a fence, and it looks almost exactly like Magic. It fell out of the envelope and I picked it up and it was just eerie, as though I was looking right into Magic's eyes. Of all the stray cats in the world that ACA helps, the cat on their card happens to be almost a carbon copy of Magic, down to the black freckle on the nose. I don't know why that would be a comfort to me, but it was. One of my sons said that maybe Magic is trying to let me know that she's alright and happy where she is. I guess I had been needing something like that, because my heart is eased somewhat everytime I look at the card - it's sitting on my mirror now. I still feel pain and guilt, but for now at least there's one thing that has given me a shred of comfort. I may take the card down tomorrow, but tonight it's like a lifeline.

Take care, all.

5catsmom,
I justed wanted to say you should feel comforted by that card. I certainly feel like it was a sign from Magic, and we should never shrug such connections when it is the only way they can continue to touch us. I always try to acknowledge anything that I feel is a sign from Sasha, just in case it is, and she is watching. I just say 'I can feel you baby, and mommy misses you, too'. I feel strongly that all of our pets try to reach us, just sometimes people don't acknowledge it for what it is....I'll take any comfort I can, and what may have seemed like a coincidental card to some, was, to me, an obvious "Merry Christmas, mommy, I'll love you always" from your sweet Magic cat...rest easy in his comfort.
your friend in grief,
Kim

To all,

Thank you again for your kind words of support and encouragement. We (my husband and I) are heading out of town to spend time with his family for the next five days. Normally, though I always enjoy seeing and spending time with his family, I usually have mixed feelings about being there because I know it means that by being there, my parents and my brother & his kids are alone on Christmas and I miss them.

This time, I am not only going to have this normal feeling of missing my parents and my family but also this is of course going to be the first Christmas without either of our babies and the loss of Ashley is so fresh and painful. So on one hand, I am glad we won't be in town so that it won't be so hard to get up on Christmas morning in my house and know there won't be two babies excited to get the treats in their stockings and it won't seem quite so empty without them. Yet, I worry that my recent loss and our losses of both of our dogs will be insignificant to his family and I worry that I will have difficulty being "up" while I am there. On the other hand, perhaps distractions, noisiness, and little ones being excited about Christmas might be helpful.

Anyway, I hope that each and everyone of us that grieves a lost baby finds some comfort and peace, especially in this holiday season. I also hope for all of us the roller coaster (as Scatsmom described) finds greater/longer moments of the peace and relief we seek and less of the "downs" of grief and sadness.

Though it is unlikely I can get to a computer while out of town to check this site, please know that all of you who have been so kind as to try and help me and that all of you who grieve, will be in my hearts and prayers and I will look forward to "speaking" with you again on my return.

Love to all of you and take care, Carol

Kim R.,

The second I saw that card I though "That's the sign!", and I really was excited about that. And everytime I look at it, in the middle of this crazy day with the in-laws flying in, shopping at the mall, I feel that Magic is there are comforting me, so that makes me feel better. But boy, the trip to the mall was awful. I went specifically to find a book on pet loss (which I did - the only one on the shelf), and then I lost my son's watch, and I was so devastated by that (it was a cheap watch from Burger King but it was one more thing I just didn't want to lose, darn it!) that I sat down on one of those benches at the mall and almost burst into tears right there in front of all those crowds and happy festive people. My son made me feel better about it, and I'll go out tomorrow to find him a good one, but losing that watch just devastated me. And before that I'd been feeling fairly optimistic, trying to be happy for the family and thinking that things were on the upswing at last. With this situation, it's like two little steps forward and one giant leap back. , and the tears are never far from the surface. I guess I'll just discreetly remove myself from the festivities if I feel like curling up and crying. Then again, maybe concentrating on the chores to be done, and doing things with the family may help. I have to try, even if my heart isn't in it.

Well, I send my best wishes for this holiday season. Even with the grief we feel, I know there is hope for all of us. Thank you all for your support and kind words, I think I might have ended up in a straitjacket if I weren't able to vent. So God Bless you all, and try to have a Merry Christmas - you are all in my prayers. Good night, all.

Okay, it has been two weeks and two days since I lost my baby Ashley and I managed to make it through Christmas. I was definitely not the life of the party.

I cannot believe how painful this still is. I am now sitting in my office at work with the door closed crying and obviously not working since I am crying and typing on this forum. I find I can't even care about work.

I miss my baby so much. I still can hardly bear that I won't ever get to hold her again or see her again or hear her bark or see her walk through the tall grass at the farm or see her swim, or have her greet me when I get home or smell her wonderful smell.

I have been trying to "dally" after leaving work so my husband will make it home before me and I won't have to go into the dark and empty quiet house. It means I am still sad when I go in and there is no precious Ashley to greet me, but selfishly my husband can hold me when I cry. Now though, I found out last evening my husband is going to have to cover someone at his work who up and quit and will either be working evenings or deep nights starting in a few days. I totally freaked out. I feel so ashamed, but I cannot hardly stand to think of being alone in that empty house all evening or all night by myself. The thought of my best friend (my husband) not being with me right now so soon after losing Ashley, even if temporarily is sending me over the edge.

What happened to the strong person I used to be? I am now scared something is going to happen to my husband to take him away from me forever too! I don't dare say I can't take it for fear that God will show me I have no choice. I do not want to lose my Ashley and my husband.

I think at moments, I can (and am) dealing with the loss of my Ashley but then on days like this, it is like I start all over. I want to scream over and over and go back in time to not have her put to sleep.

I don't know what else to say, except I am so glad to have this forum.

PreciousPrincessMom

I'm sorry your are having a hard day crying at work behind closed doors - I totally know what you are going through. I work at the front desk of a hotel and I could not control my sadness so people just had to let me check them in with tears in my eyes. I explained what I was going through and many joined in with a few of their own tears as they told me of their losses. It made me realize all the sorrow that is in everyone. If people could learn unconditional love like our fur-babies are born with (higher evolved souls, you know) I think some amazing things would happen. Animals are easy to love - people are usually difficult... why is that?

I'm having a bad day today too, that's why I came to this forum. I really have no one else to talk to. I feel like the world is hard of hearing and it makes me mad. I want to scream from the roof tops "I miss my little dog!!!"

Angelbaby,

Thank you so much for your response. I am realizing that since Ashley's death, for me there are bad days and then there are really bad days. On "bad days" I cry in the morning and maybe still scream occasionally as I drive to work (or wherever I am going) then I think about her and cry a few times in the day (short periods), then cry in the evening (a moderate amount) before I am worn out and go to sleep. On "really bad days" I just continue to cry most of the day and am pretty non-productive. Yesterday was definitely a "really bad day."

I still just am having the most difficult time accepting I won't get to see Ashley again in this life. I know that realistically she was likely not going to outlive me, so that at one point I would have to face her death. Well, we all have to die. But, I am ashamed to say this, but I am a great at denial and thus never thought about nor even wanted to think about the fact that I would probably lose her. I would think "not going to think about that." And now here I am without her and so totally unprepared for the overwhelming feelings of sadness and grief.

Anyway, Angelbaby, I am like you and wish that others, and especially myself, could love unconditionally as our furbabies do. How much freedom would that really be to love that way? No agendas, no fears, just "I love you no matter what." I envy that animals can do that. I think I try but like all humans fail to do that. However, I guess part of the reason it is so easy to love animals is their innocence and their willingness to love us no matter what.

I hope that you are having a better day today Angelbaby. Know that I am thinking of you (and the others here who have provided such relief.)

I copied this quote from a website but I don't remember where I got it:

Because most companion animals perform so magnificently their self
appointed tasks of teaching us about unconditional love, devotion and
surrender, we often experience with them what we have only dreamed of
with our human loved ones. When the animal dies, there is a natural
tendency, in addition to the grief we experience over their passing, to
attach to it grief we have over not feeling loved in the same way by the
human beings in our lives. We may also experience an outpouring of
emotion that we would like to be able to express to our human mates,
lovers and friends and feel we cannot. Our bereavement, then, tends to
evolve into a non-specific grief over the lack of love we witness in the
world in general, the absence of which is made all the more noticeable
by the absence of our four legged friend.

Angelbaby,

Again thank you for your words (and the words you quoted.)

I absolutely feel what the words you shared said (upset that no one can love us like our pets did.) I have especially been feeling that these past few days. I feel angry and/or sad that no one can love me like Ashley did. For me it is the extension or perhaps better said "expression" of her loving me no matter what. I see everyone wanting me to be like I was before she died. I see everyone wanting me to be the strong person I was. I see everyone not wanting me to cry and/or to be sad. While I rationally know it (seeing me upset and sad) is just making them sad to see me sad, don't they understand I am grieving? Ashley never cared if I was up or down or strong or weak. If I needed to be sad and cry, she didn't care, she was just there for me to hold and love. What acceptance.

Also, there is the element of no longer being the sole spark in someone's life. Ashley both needed me, but also wanted me. She wanted me or to be with me, (and then food) more than anything else. Oh, to be loved like that; it was wonderful. No one else I believe feels that way about me.

She allowed me to love her and I knew I never had to worry about her betraying me. She would not say or do anything that would hurt me or betray my "ideal" of her and/or our relationship. People (including myself to others) don't do this.

It is this unbetrayable love for her that creates the guilt I feel in euthanizing her. Did I betray her? Did I euthanize her too soon? Did I euthanize her for the right reasons? Is euthanasia really okay to do? Should I have played God? Did she know and was she upset?

Well, I must go. I am trying to go on for those that love me and who I also love. For now, as I shared with someone else, it feels like "pretend" but perhaps as I come to terms with the loss of my precious Ashley it will not.

I continue to ask for prayers and support and I offer mine to all of you as well.

I went back and read your first post on this thread again. "you never dreamed of pain this bad" I understand what you're going through. It's only been less than three weeks for you... that's a very difficult time. The first weeks are a really scary, lonely, sad, uncomprehendable, unbearable experience. Time is moving you a little farther from the routine you loved, which helps to ease the pain a little so that you feel that hope is not so far out of sight. You are getting closer to the day when there will be some relief and some measure of peace to help you get through the rest of your grieving. That's what is happening to me.

It is hard to come to terms on euthanizing your baby. I had to make that decision!! You know what is especially hard for me... my baby never barked (except for a few times in his sleep) so I wasn't use to hearing his sweet voice... until that night when he cried from the pain. I think I'm doing fine until I remember that and then I cry. I remember him looking into my eyes for reassurance, trying to communicate how he was feeling. I FORGOT TO PRAY. I was so caught up in that moment, I forgot to ask God for help. I couldn't do it by myself - but there I was all alone having to make a decision.

I wish I had a pet loss support group in my small town. It would be good to sit around and talk but also to just let everyone cry and sob together all at one time. A room full of people crying might help me feel more connected. And then the lights go out and we all one by one light a candle for our babies. And the glow of candles and calm music would be peaceful. Would that atmosphere help any of you feel better?

Angelbaby,

Again thank you for your response. I too wish for a pet-loss support group at times. However, I am so steeped in guilt for/over Ashley and now, this guilt has brought up guilt over everything I have ever done wrong or think I have done wrong in the past, I don't think there is much that can help me except perhaps therapy.

I am going to seek counseling as I feel that is the only way I am going to make it through this, if I do.

Thanks again all for your support.

I too have gone through feeling guilt for all my past failures. (And being the winter time it is especially hard not to be depressed.) Good luck with your counselling sessions. I think that is a good idea and will help you a lot if you can find the right professional. Hope you will find some relief soon.

PreciousPrincess'Mom,
Today was the first day in several that I'd come to this site, but now that all the relatives have gone home, and the kids gone back to school, and it's just the other cats and the rabbits and me, I wanted to come back and see how you, and the others I've kind of gotten to know through grief, are doing.

I'm so sorry for the pain you're going through, and I hope you find some comfort in counseling. In the past, therapy has helped me immensely, and I doubt that I'd be where I am today if I hadn't recognized that I needed that help and went for it. So I feel that it's an encouraging sign that you do recognize that your pain needs that outlet. I'm sure Ashley understands and appreciates that your great love for her has led you to a place that can help you.

It's been 3 weeks today for me since Magic left. Not a day goes by, even an hour sometimes, that I don't think of her and feel that loss. In my case, I think that having the other cats around has helped me, because I find myself spending more time just spoiling and coddling them, kind of in preparation for when they're gone and I'll be thinking "Did I do enough? Did I hug (cuddle, give treats to, kiss, scratch, etc.) them enough?" I know that inevitably the answer will be no, but at least I'll know that I was more aware of their needs and wants. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you to come home to an empty house, that must just magnify your pain, and while I can't imagine it, I do feel so bad for you to have to face that. Your hubby sounds like a very nice guy, and he must feel bad about that, and having to work the long shifts knowing how you're hurting.

Some of the hardest times I've faced in the past weeks involve the feeling that I should be "over" this by now. I kind of sense that you're feeling that, too. But when put in perspective, a few weeks really isn't such a long time where grief is involved. So I try to tell myself that there is no timetable for grief, no chart to follow, no directions to go by. It's a unique experience for everyone, and when I come in contact with people who think I should get over it, I've learned to tune them out. Some people, no matter how much we love or admire them, are not going to understand our feelings about our pets, and that's just the way it is. They've had their own experiences of grief, and if their experience isn't in sync with ours, well, that's just them - they're not wrong, they're just different.

I hope and pray that you're able to find the comfort you need through counseling. You will get through this, and your love for Ashley will be rewarded with greater insight and understanding. In the past weeks, your words have helped me, and I thank you for what you've done for me, and what I'm sure you've done for others. We'll all get through this, and there will be rainbows for each of us, and our beloved furry ones.

Take care. I'll be thinking of you and praying for you and Ashley.

Barbara

Hi Carol,

I've been thinking about some of the things you've said about not wanting to feel the guilt and hurt anymore. It took at least a couple months before I really got control of my guilt over Qorqui's death. Even then, it wasn't like any sort of relief. As soon as I realized I wasn't feeling guilty, I'd start feeling guilty that I wasn't feeling guilty. That just compounded everything and ended up making it hurt even more. You're only three weeks along in your grief. I think it's pretty much normal to feel just about exactly the way you are feeling.

About the only thing I can really say is don't lock it away. If you just "tough it out" and "get over it" you're not healing, and you're not really getting over it. If you don't heal, it's gonna be back in some other form later. If that happens, it's gonna be even harder to heal from it than it is now.

I know it's really hard to have patience when you're going through this kind of suffering. I know this from first hand experience. I'm a fairly happy person by nature (If I do say so myself), but not a very patient one. The feeling of loss and despair I felt over Qorqui and the cir%%stances of her death was foreign to me, and it just hung on and on for soooo long. I just wanted to stop feeling so bad, but I couldn't figure out how. So I went through the motions of being alive, doing what I was responsible for and all. All the while, the only thought that stayed in my mind was "I WANT MY PUPPY BACK!".

I'm kind of ashamed to admit it, but for the first several weeks there were plenty of times I thought stuff like "If that semi truck were to come across the freeway divider and take me out, I'd get to be with Qorqui again." With an almost "hopeful tone" to it even. My beliefs kept me from ever acting on anything like that, but, if it was "out of my control" it would have been just fine with me.

Please, find yourself an outlet. If you feel like seeing a therapist would be helpful, even a little, by all means go. But don't try to rush your grief. If you hurry the process, you're not completely healing. If you don't heal, well, you know.

Some of the things I tired while I was going through the worst days were some you've already mentioned. Screaming in the car seemed to help some. Talking to Qorqui about what happened and how much I love her helped eventually, but at first it just fueled the guilt. Praying constantly seemed to help too, but not until I got past accusing God of stealing my baby. Mostly, I just cried. Deep, gut wrenching, crying.

After a while, my most frequent recurring thought became "I still want my puppy back.", but it wasn't completely overpowering everything else like it used to. Still today, ten months later, I find myself sobbing over her death at some point almost every day.

I don't know if any of this helps or not, at least I hope you know that you're not crazy for grieving so hard over losing Ahsley. You're normal. To me, it's the "just a dog" folks that are a bit off center.

Take care,
Tim

Hello all that attempted to help me and hello to all that left kind words of support for me. I am sorry that I have not responded to anyone or to be honest even looked at this site in a month or so.

I have to say that I have been in the worst depression and to come to this site no longer brought me any comfort. It was like sticking a knife in my heart and twisting it over and over. Even to read my past words regarding my baby Ashley and her passing and all my feelings that I had written caused (still causes) the same feeling to return with vigor.

I truly had never lost anyone that I was so close too before. I didn't dream of guilt so tremendous - it was as if killed my child. It no longer felt like euthanasia, but it felt like I was a killer. And that horrid feeling of being a murderer of my own child would not stop. Once I began to hate myself over that, I began to hate myself over everything I had ever done in my life that I "shouldn't" have done. I began to question my faith (which was not that strong to begin with) and began to worry about my sanity and my salvation and boy, the grief just threw me for a loop.

Counseling has helped that and so has time. And so has God mostly. I have begun to turn back to God and it is he that has finally brought me peace and relief from the guilts I was feeling.

I still grieve over Ashley though. Her dog house is still there on our little patio. And the spot in the corner by the door where she liked to lay when she was outside, is full of leaves. Those leaves would never "gather" there to the extent they have now because the leaves really couldn't collect there as long as she would travel to and from that spot or they would blow in the door as she came in and out. But now the pile is like a foot high and about 2 feet wide - and it is another sign that my baby is really gone. There are even leaves in her dog house now too. Again, another sign that she has passed on.

I still sometimes must sob as I am now, writing this. I still wish she were here, but I am now beginning to accept that she really won't (can't) come back and that I must at some point (and have done so to some extent) move forward without her and have only the memories of her to bring a smile to my face.

I really thought when she died that it would be painful, but that I would read books and move through the stages and "cope" gloriously and as expected. I would cry, I would be devastated, I would feel guilty, I would "bargain," etc. But I realized that despite all the books, despite knowing the stages, I didn't know how much I would hurt and how difficult it would be or still is. One cannot plan and act on grieving as a predictable thing measured in a specific amount of time. Was I crazy to think that I could lose the dog I called my child, my baby, my precious, my princess, my heart and just go through the stages in a prescribed period of time (one prescribed or set by me in my own mind)? I have to admit reading other people's posts before, that I could not truly bear that some people were saying they cried every day for months and months and months. I think for me thinking that I could experience such pain as I was feeling at the time of Ashley's death and for that first month afterwards that I would have to commit suicide rather than to feel such horrendous and exquisite pain and grief. That perhaps sounds cowardly, but the pain, along with the guilt I felt (over her and everything) was horrible and thinking it might go on and on and on was way more than my mind and body could take.

But for me with the help of prayers and God, I have begun to have some peace. Again, I still mourn, I still cry, I still get angry and I still scream, I still feel like my heart is broken and I still miss my Ashley more than anyone can know (except of course others like me who have loved an animal as I loved my Ashley.) But finally there is some peace and I am grateful to all who have kept me in their thoughts and prayers and to my friends and family that have been there for me.

I hope that all those I enjoyed chatting with at first: 5catsmom, Angelbaby, Toty'smum, QorquisDad, and all the others of you who kindly responded and provided me support, are doing well and again thank you for your kind words when I needed them. I hope all of you are doing better and finding peace as well.

Your description of Ashley's spot outside now covered with leaves brought me to tears. It brought to mind a very vivid picture of them just ac%%ulating with each passing day and how symbolic it is that she is no longer there. It must be so painful to look outside and see her doghouse...yet it is probably still too painful to remove it. My husband knew it would be much too painful for me to even see Sasha's things after she was gone, so he made a phone call to my parents when we were about to leave for the vet and asked them if they would come over and pick up all of her things while we were gone. I didn't know he had done that, so when I came home and all of her stuff was gone, I lost it. I am grateful for that now, but I was so angry at first. How dare they touch my baby's things! They put everything neatly in a box, and I still have everything just as it was...right down to the dried crusty slobber on her stuffed toys. It was just recently that I was able to part with all of her medicine that was in the cabinet. I saw that the German Shepherd Rescue group here had a dog that could benefit from them, and they are very expensive to purchase, so I thought that Sasha would want me to help that baby instead of just letting them expire. It was very difficult, but I feel very good about it.
For me the pain does go on and on and on. I feel like I will never get over losing her. There are times that I truly think I have my grief under control, only to have it hit me smack in the face once again....

PreciousPrincess'Mom,
I had wondered how you were doing, so thank you for coming back and letting us know what was happening. I've prayed for you and Ashley everyday, as I do for all of the people who come here searching for comfort. Several years ago I had a traumatic experience in my life in which I rediscovered my faith in God, and so I'm glad to know that your faith, and counseling, has helped you through this time.

I haven't been to this site for several days, and they were very dark empty days when not just the pain of Magic passing was hurting, but other things going on were dragging me into a dark place, so I know what you mean about that. I think with intense grief, it becomes such a huge shadow in your life that sometimes there's very little light that can come through - if that makes sense. I feel during those times that no matter how much I read, or write, or rationalize, or think that I'm moving on, something will happen to bring me right back to the place I was in the first days after it happened. I think that I can't possibly go on, and then I realize it's been almost 2 months, and it just seems so unbelievable. Sometimes I can't imagine how I've gotten through this time, but somehow God, and my family, and my other pets, have dragged me through so far.

I'm so sorry that you have that empty space where Ashley used to lie outside, and you paint a very vivid portrait of what that's like, it brings tears to my eyes too. I've always been the type who, when one of my kids' hamsters died, or one of our bunnies died, I've cleaned everything out so there are no reminders for the kids. It's hard to do that with Magic's things since she shared so much with the other cats, and I'm not sure I would take those things away if I could. So I don't know what I would do about that leaf-covered area if I were in your place; I can sense that it hurts you to see it, but then it might hurt more not to see it.

I know what you mean about expecting to experience the stages of grief, and then it would be over. But then it never is really entirely gone, I think it just morphs into something different over time. I also like to think that somewhere, somehow, something positive will result from this emotional battlefield. Maybe the positive things are that we are able to empathize more with people around us in pain, or we learn to reach out, or we turn our energies to helping other animals, or we become closer to our faith. Sometimes there just seems to be so much pain and grief in the world, I don't know how people go on, and yet we're here. It's an amazing testament to how resilient people are, isn't it?

Again, I'm glad to know how you're doing. You've really helped me in the past. Take care - Barbara