Oh {{{{Crunchy}}}} I am so sorry for your loss.
Aw, shit. These things always get to me.
My condolences, Crunchy.
Yeah, good dog.
Thanks everyone. I would’ve replied sooner, but I just got the WebTV working last night (that’s right I can post from home now - you think my post count was high before? You ain’t seen nothing yet!)
I’m feeling better about it today. Last year, Coco was sick and had to go in for surgery (some kind of infection in her uterus) and at the time my mother told me that the decision to put Coco down would be mine to make. At least I didn’t have to make that decision. My mother told the vet to cremate Coco and she’ll give me the remains to do with as I like. I’m going to scatter them or bury them somewhere, but I haven’t decided where yet. There was a depression in the backyard where she liked to lay in the summertime. Seems as good a place as any.
As for a picture of her, there’s several. I know somewhere is a picture of me with the puppy, not yet fully grown from the first day we brought her home. My favorite picture of Coco though is from about two years ago.
As Coco got lder the St. Louis winters used to get to her and we had to buy her one of those little dog sweaters or she’d stand around shivering. She hated the sweater though. One day, I saw her shivering, so I got the sweater from the hall closet and had to wrestle Coco into it. The dog did not want to wear the sweater. After about 10 minutes wrestling a 20 pound mutt into this thing, I finally got it on her. Coco immediately went into the corner, hung her head, and sulked. I tried to get her to play with me, but she was mad and wouldn’t answer me. She’d go to my mom or dad, but she was too pissed at me for putting that sweater on her to answer me. She wouldn’t answer me or do any tricks for treats until I took the sweater off her. My mom took a picture of Coco pressed against the wall, head down and mopey-looking. The dog even looks pissed off in the picture. I laugh every time I see that picture.
Thanks everyone. I would’ve replied sooner, but I just got the WebTV working last night (that’s right I can post from home now - you think my post count was high before? You ain’t seen nothing yet!)
I’m feeling better about it today. Last year, Coco was sick and had to go in for surgery (some kind of infection in her uterus) and at the time my mother told me that the decision to put Coco down would be mine to make. At least I didn’t have to make that decision. My mother told the vet to cremate Coco and she’ll give me the remains to do with as I like. I’m going to scatter them or bury them somewhere, but I haven’t decided where yet. There was a depression in the backyard where she liked to lay in the summertime. Seems as good a place as any.
As for a picture of her, there’s several. I know somewhere is a picture of me with the puppy, not yet fully grown from the first day we brought her home. My favorite picture of Coco though is from about two years ago.
As Coco got lder the St. Louis winters used to get to her and we had to buy her one of those little dog sweaters or she’d stand around shivering. She hated the sweater though. One day, I saw her shivering, so I got the sweater from the hall closet and had to wrestle Coco into it. The dog did not want to wear the sweater. After about 10 minutes wrestling a 20 pound mutt into this thing, I finally got it on her. Coco immediately went into the corner, hung her head, and sulked. I tried to get her to play with me, but she was mad and wouldn’t answer me. She’d go to my mom or dad, but she was too pissed at me for putting that sweater on her to answer me. She wouldn’t answer me or do any tricks for treats until I took the sweater off her. My mom took a picture of Coco pressed against the wall, head down and mopey-looking. The dog even looks pissed off in the picture. I laugh every time I see that picture.
{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{Crunchy Frog}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
No words can ease such sadness, as you know. But all those who love our pets in such a way really do understand and extend our vibes of sympathy and healing.
Your post about burying Coco’s ashes reminded me of when my beloved cat of 14 years died a year and a half ago (I’d had him all my adult life and he was my child in the truest sense). During the last days of his life he was in pain and could no longer eat or rest comfortably, but the one pleasure he was still able to enjoy was lying perfectly still in the front yard in a place under a bush that had always been his favorite spot: hidden, shady, yet right in the middle of things. When I watched him through the window on the last weekend, lying peacefully with his face turned into the sun, I thought, “Well, if I can’t save him, at least I’ve made his last days as happy as possible.” He actually looked like an old man who realized that his days were short but who was nevertheless looking back on and out at life with a sense of contentment. Even then I still hoped I could save him, but when I couldn’t, I brought him home from the vet and buried him in that very spot, wrapped in a favorite blanket. I miss him still, but I feel a bittersweet comfort every time I look out the front window and see the little concrete marker we made covering his grave. Sounds like your spot would be fitting too.
In sympathy.
Crunchy,
The whole time I was reading these posts, I was thinking about this quote:
“Dogs’ lives are too short. Their only fault, really.”
- Agnes Sligh Turnbull
It’s so true. Be glad your dear friend passed away gently and quietly, and remember all the wonderful times you had with her. The love of a good dog is the gift of a lifetime.
Great quote, romansperson.
Crunchy… I couldn’t empathize any more. You make me think of Sophie, who was almost 17. I thought my heart was being ripped outta my chest.
And now I have Maggie… and I’m more aware than ever that loving a pet is like falling in love with someone who has a terminal disease.
But it’s so very worth it.
stoid
{{{{{Crunchy}}}}}
I offer my love to you. I cried reading your post, and others after that. I lost my dog last year. He was an 11 y/o Pomerainian. It really hurt, because I would get so mad at him sometimes, because I took advantage of his life. My last words to him were harsh. Then when my mom came to check me out of school, I just cried. I really miss him. I know how you are feeling. He was 11 years of my life. We too had him creamated. He is now in our den, where he wasn’t allowed before. Just remember to smile when you think of her. Hold on to all the memories.
hugs
Jenny*
Awww, Crunchy. I am so sorry for your loss.
Know this: you made Coco’s days as happy and loved as she made yours.
Its a shame Crunchy, but we all know the rules. If you own an animal your duty is to treat them well in life and when the end comes make sure they go out with as little pain as possible. If you can take any satisfaction in this it is from having done your duty to your dog. Again, sorry.
And armed with your Post-A-Matic, soon you will rival even the great Coldfire, tracer, and . . . yes, handy!
[sub]I don’t know if that’s a good thing or incredibly pathetic. I think I’ll let you decide:)[/sub]