I didn't know what to do. I find myself this morning, trying to go about my regular routine, and it's soooo soo hard. I got up this morning, and my friend wasn't there. There was no need to put her food and water out for her this morning. There was no typical morning greeting from her that she always had for me, to say in her own way "Hi Daddy! I'm here and I Love You! Pet me. Hug me. Make a fuss over me the way I do you".

So this morning I seek an emotional outlet. I sit in front of the computer, like most mornings, I have my coffee, but instead of checking email, and the news, and doing daily budget updates, I find myself on this website, mourning the loss of my dearest companion. Wishing she were lying next to my office chair like she has done every morning for the past 9 years. I love her so much! I feel miserable, crying all the time, crying right now as I type these words. Twice already I have dropped my hand from the keyboard to pet her, and she's not there. After dropping my wife off at work this morning, she wasn't there when I came home and opened the door. She wasn't jumping all over because she was excited to see me. Instead, there was just silence. No movement. The house is so empty without her. It's just a shell. My wife and I have never been in a comfortable financial situation since we've been together, so we've never had the luxury of materialist things in our lives, so I can tell you, as I'm sure most of you are already aware, that it doesn't matter how much stuff you have in this life, what matters is the relationships you have with people and with your pets. I should be thankful for the 9 years that she gave us, and you know, I am, but I just miss her so much!

"Kemo" started having seizures when she was 5 years old. I remember the first one we were aware of, lasted only a minute or so, but it scared us tremendously and we spent what little savings we had to take her to the vets. The vet diagnosed her with possible eplipesy, but assured us that she might still live a complete and full life. He said there was medication that could help with the seizures, but it had side effects that could cause liver damage. So while we might be able to help her with the seizures, we could do damage at the same time. The vet said that she might not ever have another seizure again, or, it could get worse and she could have more of them, closer together as time passed. We really couldn't afford the medication, and hoped for the best.

Over the last few months, Kemo has had about 6 seizures that we know of. God only knows how many she had when were not at home. The last one was about 10 days ago, and it lasted about 15 minutes. I was at work at the time, and when my wife came to pick me up after work, she told me what had happened. It was the third seizure she had in less than one month. It usually took her about 2 days to recover each time, so physically draining for her. The thing is, when she wasn't having a seizure or recovering from one, she seemed to be her normal self, although my wife says that she could clearly see changes in her behaviour.

I sought advice, and was told by a volunteer worker at the humane society that every time Kemo had a seizure, she experienced great pain. Every muscle in her body would go into spasm until it was over. It was so hard to see her going through this. And whenever she had one, she would get as close to us as she possibly could, and we would hold her and pet her, and tell her that we love her, and comfort her as much as we could, until the seizure ended. My wife was frightened that we could come home one day to find her dead, and she thought that would not only be extremely unfair to Kemo, but more traumatic for us.

So we've been talking actually for several months about what was the right choice to make. I wanted to spend as much time with her as I possibly could, so we agreed to set a date, and that day was yesterday. It was the single, most difficult thing I have ever done, in my entire life. We couldn't afford to take her to the vets to have her put down. They wanted $110.00 and another $60 for cremation, and another $150 for a urn if I wanted to have her ashes returned. The Humane Society said we could bring her there if we wished, for $35. And that's what we did. They told me that she would be gone by the end of the day. She wasn't adoptable because of her age and condition, and it was the only other choice. I took her in. My wife couldn't bear the pain of going into the shelter with me for fear that she would have a complete emotional breakdown, and remained in the car. I said my last good-byes to Kemo. She seemed to sense that something was really wrong, and I felt so much guilt for leaving her. I burst out crying while at the shelter, and I think I scared a couple people away that had come in looking to adopt a pet. I felt embarassed about my weeping openly. The Humane Society volunteer assured me, that someone would be with her when they did it, that she would not be alone, and that they would take care of her remains. I supspect that means cremation. They were so helpful to us really, when I think about it. We did the only thing we could. I would have liked to have had her remains returned to me, maybe I would have felt a little closer to her, but we simply can't afford those luxeries.

We have some pictures of her, and now, we have our memories of her. But ooohhh God, how I miss her so much, she was my companion, my friend. The one and only creature on this earth that gave me complete and unconditional love.

I pray, and pray to God that I will see her once again in Heaven, and that when I die, I can be with not only my human family and friends, but that I can once again be with her, and I hope that she will forgive for what I've done, but as my wife said, we had to love her enough, to let her go.

Kemo, I miss you now and always will. You will always remain in my heart, until the day that I can be with you once again. I have always loved you, and I always will.

Till we meet again my friend.

Your Daddy.

I am so sorry for your loss.....I lost my Florence 12 days ago, and there is a hole in my heart. I miss coming down the stairs and seeing her, I miss her jumping onto the bed and waking me up at 3 am. Kemo was a special person in your life and in your heart...the gap that has ben left will hurt so much, the small things that you did without thinking will hold such meaning. I say let the tears fall, if you feel the need to just cry out loud, do it, after all you have lost a member of your family. In time, you may find that you still have tears pouring down your face, but you visualise all the wonderful times you both had, it will warm your heart, Kemo will be forever that special person.

I dont know what I believe about the after life, but like you I truly hope that we will all be re united with our beloved pets and other members of our families.

My best wishes go out to you.

Oh, Darrell,

I cried as I read your post. I am so so so sorry for your loss.

It's been almost three years since I joined this board. I know it hurts like the devil right now, but please believe me when I say that with time, the hurt gets more bearable.I still miss Saki and Freyja and Electra, all who went to the bridge in 2003, but the pain does become manageable.

Still, I wouldn't be surprised if you felt like crap for 9 months. Everyone is different of course, but I'd give yourself at least that long to start to feel normal (when I joined, I read somewhere that you can expect a month of grief for every year you shared...)

You are doing good to cry. I think people who try to hold it in take longer to heal, so it is good to cry.

Posting out here helped me immensely. This is a wonderful site, and I spent many many mornings crying in my coffee. But again, that helped me process all my pain. This site was really a lifesaver for me.

As much as you can surround yourself with people who understand your loss. Kemo was somebody who you loved dearly and your daily life revolved around her. So your loss is tremendous. Unfortunately, you might encounter people who do not understand that. Those are people whose hearts are closed so do your best to ignore them and pity them.

It helped a lot to memorialize them as much as I could. I got a special box where I put all their things -- tags, collars, brushes, etc. On the computer, I created and printed birth and death certificates. They are in the box. I made photo collages and hung them on the wall. I lost all three of my dear pets in 2003, and in 2004, I made my own calendar and each month was a different photo of them. My husband got me a locket with "Saki" engraved on it. I attached it to Electra's collar and wore the combination as a bracelet (Saki and Electra were cats, freyja was the dog) for a long time. Maybe you could keep Kemo's tags in your wallet or something. Some people build web pages for the lost one...

As for the empty house, the quiet... Who knew that silence could be that LOUD? That was one of the worst parts of the loss... It seems that all of us out here know that sound. I am so sorry.

And it seems that everyone feels guilty. So you can expect that. For me, it was good to talk about it, and especially good to read other people's posts. Reading other people's posts and seeing their innocence--even when they felt so guilty-- helped me a lot to maybe see my own innocence, too.

So I hope some of this advice helps. If not, that is ok. I just really wanted to let you know that I am thinking of you during this terrible time and feel so sad about your loss.

--Jennifer

I'm soo sorry for the loss of your beloved Kemo. She was sooo beautiful. You are among friends here because we've been through what you just went through. The first few days are the worst. She's not there, you think you hear her, but it's not her. That's natural. She'll always be in your heart and you still have your memories.

I lost my chocolate ##er spaniel Bailey 6 weeks ago to cancer. She was 13 yrs old and I had rescued her from our local shelter 11 years ago. She was so sweet and funny. She didn't bark, she just howled. She'd lift her head up in the air and howl. She'd sit down, with her stubby tail wagging back and forth, just waiting for anyone to pet her. If you stopped, she'd touch you with her paw. She wanted more petting. I have her picture in a frame on the fridge and say "hi" everytime I go into it.

Take each day as it comes, don't be ashamed if you cry, or of your feelings of loss and guilt. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

I want to thank each and every one of you who replied to my post, and I want to thank the others who just read it too.

My wife didn't know that I had put this posting here until tonight when I got home from work. I told her about it, and asked her to read it. I wanted her to know how I felt, because sometimes the words just don't work when they come blabbering out of my mouth. Do you know what I mean?

Anways, this is only the second day since I took Kemo in to the shelter.

I feel so guilty. Although I believe she sensed there was something wrong she was running around the shelter exploring everything new, and wagging her tail when she found a couple of cats hiding out on a shelf in the main office. Little did she know the reason why she was there. It's almost like I can feel her pain after I left her there, like, "why did you leave me here Daddy? Where did you go? Why am I alone in this strange place? Are you coming back to get me? Who are these strange people? Will they be nice to me?". Yes, they will be nice to you Kemo, before they take your life from you.

I am so immersed in pain and grief. My tears are endless while I write this, and while I've been reading the entries of others that lost their pets.

I keep thinking of my father, who does not believe in euthanasia. He believes that all creatures should die naturally, on their own terms, and I wonder sometimes if he's right. I mean, I ended Kemo's life by my own decision. Am I guilty of murder? How could I do this? How could I take the life of something I love so dearly? What kind of cruel and unsensitive person am I? I should be shot for what I've done, or cut my own life short to justify my actions.

I don't sleep well. I toss and turn and struggle to calm myself. I had a nap yesterday and the only way I could fall asleep was to put a pillow into the crevice of my bent knees, where Kemo always slept. She always wanted to be touching me in some way. Climb up on me and lay on me practically while watching TV. Licking my legs when I'd get out of the shower. We'd sing together often. I'd starts singing, and she'd start howling, and she loved every second of it. Tonight, I made myself toast and cereal. Kemo always loved that. She'd sit patiently in the kitchen while I fixed it, and then again patiently with those big brown eyes watching me eat, watching the spoon go from the bowl to my mouth. She knew I was a sucker for her, and I'd always leave at least the milk for her, and some of my toast. She loved peanut butter. Heck, she loved anything really as long as I'd share it with her, which I always did.

I really miss her being on the couch with me. Much like the last person who responded to my thread, she loved being petted, and she would let me pet her for hours if I could, and if I stopped, she would push my hand with her nose until I'd start petting her again.

I find it hard to look at her pictures right now. My wife took a couple of pictures of me with my arms wrapped around Kemo, before we took her in on Thursday. My wife (Holly, I think I should start using her name) said she didn't think it was a good idea and didn't want to do it. I remember starting to bawl and acting like a spoiled child not getting their way and just blurted out that I didn't care, that I wanted a picture anyway. I don't know if I can ever get the roll developed now. I feel like if I do, and I see the pictures, and then show them to someone else sometime in the future, I'll be saying "Oh, and this is Kemo and I the day that I killed her".

....crying again. I'm such a wuss. I guess I should have been born a female. Maybe I have a chemical imbalance or something. I certainly don't feel like the strong man I'm supposed to be.

Thanks again for your postings. I know this forum will help me, and I'm so very grateful that someone even created it. I don't feel so alone in my grief, and I cry when I read I read about the sorrow everyone else has experienced here too.

I try to reassure myself that I did what I thought was best for my dearly loved Kemo. I didn't want her to suffer through any more seizures that I keep telling myself she would have undoubtedly had, had I not taken the actions that I did.

I feel some regret too that I wasn't there when they put her down. Holly seems to think that it was better this way. She thinks I would have lost it. I think I already did.

Darrell

Loving another creature with all your heart does not make you a wuss. It makes you a decent human being.

After we put Freyja down, all I could think was "I killed my dog. I killed my dog. I killed my dog...." Frey was 14, had terrible arthritis, cushing's disease, and then had what we think was a stroke and couldn't move from the neck down. Of course we had no other choice. But in my grief, I still felt guilty. I felt like s%%.

Euthanasia means "good death." And with time and a lot (LOT) of tears, I've come to see it as the last loving thing we can do for our best companions. Loving us as they do, they want to be brave and they do not want to leave us. They will suffer ANYTHING, they will suffer the most excruciating of pains to stay with us. For us to allow that is selfish. Darrell, the pain you feel now is a testament to your love. What you have effectively done is taken on all this pain -- so Kemo could be free. Because you love her, you decided to put yourself through this hell so that she would not have to have any pain. What you did was an act of love and kindness.

Someday, you will be glad to have that picture and I am glad Holly took it for you.

Be gentle with yourself.

--Jennifer

You're not a wus.....Taking the pictures with your beloved Kemo was a wonderful thing to do. You'll always have them and in time will be able to look at them and remember.

I did the same thing. When it was determined that Bailey had liver cancer, and that surgery wouldn't give her any quality of life, and her anemia was getting worse by the hour, I brought her home one last time. I too, took pictures of Bailey. Then I took her to my vet, who was so kind and understanding with my blubbering. I stroked her and whispered I loved her as she crossed over to the bridge. This was important to me to be with her, but I know that not everyone can be with their loved one. But that doesn't mean that they loved them any less for will miss them any less.

Never be ashamed of your feelings. You and your wife need each other right now. There is no magic wand how long you will grieve. Everyone is different. But, it's been 6 weeks for me, and although I miss her every day, I smile when I look at her picture and know that we'll be together again someday.

Oh Darrell, I am so sorry for the loss of Kemo. She had such beautiful eyes - you can just see a sweet soul shining through.
You did the most unselfish thing you could, you freed her from her suffering. Someone on this site once said something to the effect that when you put a pet to sleep, you take on the pain - so they can be free of it. I had to put my beloved Zody to sleep over two years ago and it too so far was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I totally agree with you - no material possession can ever come close to what we share with our loved ones. I had a conversation lately about house insurance with a friend and she said she'd be so upset if her house caught fire and she'd lose all her things (she has no pets) and I commented that I wouldn't care if I lost everything as long as my cat was safe.

Don't worry about not being able to cremate. I had my last three pets all cremated, all at the same vet clinic. The first two each came in a little box with their name on it, when I spread their ashes I noticed that the little steel heart that hung from their collars had melted to various degrees. I felt assured I had the right ashes. The third pet I had cremated (just one month after the last one) was also at the same vet but they changed suppliers. I got her ashes back in an unmarked box, there was no remnant of the melted heart and the ashes were much less than the other two I gotten back. I highly doubt I even got back her ashes. I was mad that they changed suppliers without even telling me. I made up my mind then that I would never again cremate a pet. I spread her ashes near the other two. I realized then that nothing really changes because ultimately our loved one is gone and wherever what remains of the shell that housed their spirit is back amongst the universe. Their spirits however I believe are still with us because the love doesn't die.

This morning, when I woke and came downstairs, I found Holly sitting on the couch, and she was crying. Honestly, I didn't know what she was crying about, but I rushed over to put my arms around her and to try to console her. I said "is everything ok honey? What's wrong?" She continued to cry. I said, "is it Kemo?" She hung her head and slowly nodded. She said everywhere she looked, there was a memory of Kemo. We bought Kemo a doggy bed at Christmas, which ironically she only started using about a couple of weeks ago. It was still in the living room where we sat together. I have to move it today. We are keeping it, but I have to move it out of site for now. My 4 year-old grand-daughter Hailey, wants to keep it. When she heard that Kemo was sick and was going to "doggy-land" she was terribly upset. I don't think she understands death yet, and what it means, but she knew that "doggy-land" meant that Kemo would never be around again. I didn't realize that she had developed this personal relationship with Kemo, and she insisted to her mother that she gets to keep Kemo's bed. Hailey actually said that although she knew Kemo wouldn't be around, she would feel closer to Kemo if she could have it. How a 4 year old has so much insight into what has happened, is amazing.

I thought my wife Holly was a rock. Steadfast and hard. I thought since she has been through so much hardship throughout her life that she was accepting what we did with little remorse. Oh, I knew inside that it was hard for her too, she just seldom lets her emotions get the best of her. I am typically the emotional one. Sometimes I just feel like a blubbering idiot. My mother is very emotional, and I think I inherited all those genes.

Believe it or not, seeing Holly cry this morning, made me feel better inside. Is that sick or what? Knowing that I could help to console her as much as she done for me, made me feel pretty good. It made me feel needed and wanted. Kemo, always made me feel needed and wanted every day. Of course she would, because she relied on me to give her everything she needed, including cuddling on the couch together every night. Strangely enough, Kemo's passing is helping Holly and I become closer together. We hug each other more often, for no apparent reason, and we caress and hold each other when we think of Kemo. Holly told me that she mourns Kemo's passing on her own terms and in private. Everyone deals with it differently, Holly in private, me in public, in this forum.

My wife proves me to me each day, how much she loves me. We had already told ourselves that we were not getting another animal for some time to come, and then yesterday morning, she was saying that maybe we should get another pet, because even though she's not ready for another pet, she thinks it would help me. We both know we need some time first.

Thank you again for your understanding and support in this thread. You may never realize the impact of helpfulness you have given us by sharing in our sorrow and comforting us with your words.

Love to all of you,
Darrell & Holly

Darrell,
PLease let me say that I'm very sorry for the loss of your Kemo. I know of nothing more difficult than losing one you dearly love. I cannot imagine anything worse than taking our pets to be put down. Don't ever consider yourself a wuss or anything of the like or kind for loving your Keno and grieving for her. This shows that you are a kind and decent human being. Don't let anyone lead you to believe otherwise. I'm sure our Garfield invited Keno to play chase as soon as she reached Rainbow Bridge. I like to think about these words from the song Shannon,
"I'm sure that somewhere tonight she knows how much we really miss her." Keno knows.
God Bless You,
Steve

Dear Darrell:

You articulated your pain so completely that I am sure all who have responded will agree with me that our hearts are broken for you, your wife and Kemo.

Since I help thousands of people each year with their losses, I usually know what to say, but your situation is unique for me and I find myself at a loss as to what to say to make you feel better. For that reason I am only going to say that our hearts are with you and offer one piece of advice.

I know you are beating yourself up with doubt and guilt. But go back and re-read your post. It is saturated with love for Kemo. This tells anyone who reads it that Kemo lived a life full of love and she knew it. Her disease was not her fault and it was not yours either. You both dealt with it as best you could and that was about the extent of control you had. When it came to having to make a decision, you did so from a position of love, putting your own feelings aside and helping your best friend to end her misery.

Think about that when the guilt comes. Think about her being in a better place, youthful and well, and happy. I have several articles you need to read, but I cannot post them here - you can go to my site and read or print them or whatever - but please read "Making the Big Decision" and "The Souls of Animals". I know they will help you. If you can't locate them, contact me and I will download them to you.

God bless.

I TO LOST MY DEAREST FRIEND KIKI FROM CANER 2 WEEKS AGO, SHE DIED IN MY ARMS, AND BO WHO WAS A SIAMESE CAT IN SEPT. 1 MONTH SHY OF HIS 21 BIRTHDAY. HE HAD A SEIZURE IN MY ARMS ON THE WAY TO THE VETS, AND KIKI DIED WHILE I WAS HOLDING HER IN MY ROOM WITH ALL HER STUFF. I KNEW SHE WAS HANGING ON BECAUSE SHE DIDNT WANT TO LEAVE ME BUT HER LITTLE BODY COULD NOT WALK ANYMORE. SHE CRIED TO GO TO HER LITTER BOX. SHE WAS SO GREAT. SHE DIDNT WANT TO WET THE BED. BUT I LOVE HER AND EVERYDAY OF MY LIFE I MISS HER. I TOLD HER YOU WILL ALWAYS BE IN MY HEART. AND ONE DAY WE WILL BE TOGETHER AGAIN. BUT YOU JUST HAVE TO WAIT FOR ME IN HEAVEN I FEEL FOR YOU IT GETS EASIER BUT YOU DONT FORGET THEM. THEY ARE BETTER THEN SOME PEOPLE I KNOW. NO MATTER HOW GOOD OR BAD YOUR DAY IS THEY LOVE YOU. IF YOU FEEL LIKE IT WRIT4E BACK SHERI