It's been three days since my family lost Snookie, our 19 year old terrier mix. We've had him since he was six months old. I was nine when we adopted him, so it seems like he's been with us my whole life. My little brother doesn't even remember a time without him.

Snookie was a survivor. It might sound silly, but we used to joke that he would outlive us all. I think we all believed it a little bit. He was a pound puppy, so he already escaped the untimely fate of so many shelter animals. He ran away once when he was a couple years old, and there was a high speed police chase on the street behind us that night. My parents were convinced he would be run over, but he made it home. About a year after that, he was diagnosed with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. The vet said he might not make it, and if he did, the steroids used to treat him would shorten his lifespan to only a couple more years. That was fifteen years ago. A few years ago, he was diagnosed with an enlarged heart and pulmonary edema. The vet prescribed drugs, but he became completely listless and wouldn't eat. He had arthritis and was normally very ornery if someone touched him the wrong way, but he was almost completely unresponsive to any touch. We thought it was the end, and even made an appointment for euthanasia. But he was such a fighter. He perked up and ate some chicken for my brother. We cancelled the appointment.

But of course he eventually declined. The vet suspected he had cancer somewhere in his digestive tract, because it became harder and harder to convince him to eat. My dad seemed to spend all his time trying to find something that he would eat. He had seizures that were heartbreaking to watch and caused brain damage. He started to fall a lot and sometimes he would just walk in circles. He became incontinent. But what finally got him was an infection in his mouth. He dropped half his body weight in the last few weeks. My mom said his stomach was growling and he was trying to open his mouth to take a bite, but he couldn't do it because the infection hurt too much. She said she knew it was time then.

I got to spend a little time with him on Monday afternoon at home. He was listless again, but he responded to his name, so I think he knew we were there. He had this awful smell on him. He smelled like death. It was terrible, but that's what convinced me that this time he wouldn't rally. We took him to the vet for the final time. The staff was so good. He was the oldest dog there, so he was something of a legend. Staff members stopped by his room just to say goodbye. It was very peaceful and humane. My parents and I stayed with him and pet him. It was hard to watch, but I'm glad I got to see he wasn't in pain and that he could leave this world surrounded by love.

Monday night and most of Tuesday were ok. Then Tuesday night I started to cry. I couldn't sleep and I couldn't stop crying. I went back to work Wednesday but I couldn't stop crying there, either, and I left early. I don't think I have ever cried like that in my whole life. I cried until there weren't any tears. I cried until I was hyperventilating and I felt lightheaded. I know we did the best for him, but I started to feel like we had abandoned him at the vet's office. I feel crazy saying this, but I imagined him cold and alone there. He didn't have his blankets or coat. I hated that he didn't have his collar. Without that, he just seemed like some anonymous animal instead of our Snookie. I imagined the staff at the crematorium just treating him like trash instead of someone special. I hesitate to write all of this, because I don't want to put those thoughts into others' heads, but this was the part that hurt me the most. My mom spoke to the vet tech yesterday and she said that he's wrapped in a blanket with his name and my mom's name. She also said that she's used this same crematorium for her pets, and they're very respectful and respectable. Maybe it's silly, because he's still just as dead, but that was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I'm still anxious waiting for his remains to be returned so he can be home again, but I'm glad he's being cared for in the meantime by people who understand.

Today has been better than yesterday, but I know I'm still grieving. Today I realized that when acquaintances ask if my elderly dog is still alive, next time I'll have to tell them no. It always felt so good to tell them yes. I can talk to my parents, but they're the only people I have locally who really understand. I have friends who have been supportive, but they live far away. I don't want to talk to everyone yet, like my coworkers, because I'm afraid they won't really understand. Not only because he was "just" a dog, but also "just" a mutt. Some people, even people who love dogs, have such disdain for mutts. I know people are just trying to show interest when they ask about Snookie's breed, but Ican't handle it right now. What kind of dog was he? He was OUR dog, and he was loved just as much as any purebreed. I think that's the hardest part right now, feeling isolated in my grief, when my grief feels just as deep as it would for a person.

Thank you if you've read this far. I've read so many threads on here and I know I can't respond to everyone. But rest assured I've wept for many of you and I'm so very very sorry for all the losses here. That's part of the reason I felt compelled to post, to offer condolences and to say thank you for making me feel less isolated. Reading the stories on here makes me feel a little less alone and less crazy. And it's nice to get all this out and to think someone else is reading about him and thinking about him.

Hi, nocutename, please permit me to offer you my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved Snookie. Losing a companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we are blessed with the privilege of their company. Euthanasia is the last gift of love we can give to our companions at great sacrifice to ourselves so that they can be restored to their former youthfulness in the company of the angels.

Nocutename, this grief journey is one of the hardest experiences you will know on this side of eternity. It is a journey that is filled with many different emotions - - it is a journey frequently referred to as a horror roller coaster ride. It is a journey that cannot be reconciled in a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, or even 6 months - - for you are now on a journey that is filled with all the first withouts and the memories that can be all too painful right now that include "this time yesterday, last week, last month, last year" to endure. It is a journey that can only be traveled one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time in your own way and in your own time - - hopefully with the reassurance that you are among friends here who truly do understand what you are going through, and who are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

I do know from first hand experience how painful the deep grief journey is - - how every minute of every hour of every day is a constant reminder of not having a beloved companion with me. Even when there are other precious companions still in the household there is a HUGE VOID continuously present as a reminder that a very integral part of the family unit is no longer physically present. It can feel as though the house structure itself is mourning.

It is perfectly natural to want to know that your beloved Snookie's body is being treated with respect. I'm so glad your vet tech was able to ease your heart and mind about this.

Although your beloved Snookie is no longer physically with you, there is one thing that will never change: the love bond you and your beloved Snookie share. Love is eternal - - it is not restricted to the physical laws of time and space. I hope you will find comfort in knowing that your beloved Snookie's sweet Living Spirit continues to share your earthly journey as he always has and always will - - for he is always and forever a part of your heart and memories - - he is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I also know from first hand experience that when our hearts are entrenched in deep grief there are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the searing pain of sorrow. Still I hope the words I share with you will offer you some measure of comfort, support, encouragement, and hope as you travel your grief adjustment journey.

Thank you so much for honoring us in sharing your beloved Snookie with us. Perhaps sometime you will feel up to sharing a picture of him with us - - but only when / if you want to. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, nocutename, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I am so very sorry for your losing Snookie. And I understand what you're saying about him being "your" dog. I have come to learn from losing my own cat recently, that they're loss can be every bit as painful and agonizing as losing beloved person. So don't minimize the capacity of love you can have for your furry family member. And no, many people will not understand, not their fault, but just try to find any who do and express your feelings to them. And you're right, this forum will go a very long way towards offering you support and helping you not feel "crazy." My very heartfelt condolences on your loss! I totally understand your pain. – Molly’s mom (snapdragon)

Your post had a lot of similarities to my experience it was tough to read, I am so sorry about you losing your Snookie. He certainly sounds like a fighter and for him to live to 19 is amazing, you guys should be so proud. When you describe the feelings you had about 'abandoning' him at the vets office I know exactly how you feel. It was about 8:30pm when we put our boy to sleep and the cremation companies were all shut. I couldn't bare the thought of my vet taking him back to the animal hospital and kept picturing him alone and in the freezer. Though none of my family members agreed with me I was able to convince them to leave him at home that last night and have the cremation service company pick him up the next morning. I don't think is makes sense to a lot of people but I can definitely relate to those feelings. I have faith that your vet would have treated him with nothing but love and respect though, it sounds like he was certainly a favourite there. I think people who go into the field of working with animals, and even those who cremate them must have a very nurturing side to them and are usually pet owners themselves, so I don't think they would treat another animal any differently than they'd want their own pet to be treated. If our cremation company was anything to go by the lady was very loving and respectful. I also relate a lot to what you said about him not having his collar and being an anonymous animal, those exact thoughts went through my head about my Rocky. Just remember, it wasn't his collar which made him your Snookie, but all the love you and your family gave him. He will carry that love forever and will therefore always be your Snookie.

I am again so sorry and I hope Rocky and Snookie have met and are exchanging stories about their lives here with us.

moon_beam, thank you so much for the reminder that grief really is a journey. I've lost people before, and I know that they stay with you forever and although the sadness fades you never really "get over" it. It's so easy to fall into the trap of feeling that I should be "normal" now. The funny thing is that I've told others before that there's not a correct way to grieve, that you just feel what you feel and you have to do what's right for you. Maybe I should take my own advice. You are also absolutely right that euthanasia is a gift. I've always known in my head that it is often the last responsibility of having a pet, but sometimes it's hard to feel that in my heart. I'm thankful that we were able to give that to Snookie. And thank you for the reminder that it's normal to want to know that a loved one's body is being treated with respect. I don't think anyone would think it's strange to feel that way about a person, so why should a pet be any different?

snapdragon, thank you for your condolences. It really is just as painful as a person, isn't it? Maybe some people do just see an animal, but you give your pet your heart as much as you would a person. I'm so sorry about your Molly. She's beautiful and looks like a sweetheart.

Rockyboy, thank you for letting me know that you understand what I mean about leaving him alone. Even if the rest of your family didn't understand why you wanted your Rocky at home that night, I do completely and I'm glad you got to keep him with you. The thought crossed my mind that I needed to go back to the vet and get Snookie. I think you're right that people who choose to work with animals have to love them and would only treat them with respect. I know that the whole staff at his vet's office were the absolute best and went above and beyond for him. I can't imagine they would contract with a crematorium that would act any differently. I'm glad that the woman you spoke to at the crematorium was so kind and compassionate. You're absolutely right that it wasn't his collar that matters, it's the love that we shared with him. I am so sorry again about the loss of your Rocky. He looks like a beautiful boy. I hope that wherever he and Snookie might be that they're able to run and play again.

Today was a little better. One of my parents' neighbors sent flowers, and I thought that was so so sweet. We had already donated Snookie's unopened food and medicine at his vet's office, but my dad gave the neighbor's dog the opened bags of treats. I like to think that someone got to enjoy them, even if it wasn't Snookie.

I attached a picture of him. As you can see, he loved sleep and he knew that every bed was his.

Click to view attachment

Thank you nocutename, for your condolences. Awww what an oh-so sweet looking boy Snookie is. Your boy, yes, what a heart-break to lose him!!!! Also, we left Molly with the vet, then she went to a crematorium. It was all hard, but the vet also told us that the crematorium handled their pets with a lot of respect, and I just chose to believe that. And, I also felt better when Molly came home. Everything I hear, am told, and tell myself does help some, but nothing really mitigates the pain—I don’t think that hole in my heart will ever be filled, I think most people seem to agree with that feeling. Just so, so hard. Thanks for posting the picture of Snookie…just looking at it brings tears to my eyes, just such a very sweet looking guy!

Hi, nocutename, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and this wonderful picture of your beloved Snookie. Indeed!!! Our companions just know that they have "equal rights" to everything and every place in the house - - as it should be. I know this picture, and all the others you have - - both on film and digital - - as well as the pictures in your heart - - are precious to you, and I hope you find comfort, and joy, in knowing that your beloved Snookie is always and forever a part of your heart and memories - - he is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I hope today is treating you kindly, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Snookie's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, nocutename, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam