The wonderful rfm family helped me when little Chunkie, my seven year old pom-a-poo was diagnosed with renal failure. I was feeling punished even though I knew it made no sense. Last Friday we gave up our battle when she looked to be suffering. Grief, I know you well, and I don't like you one bit. Missing my dog.

I am sorry, Dorothy...

Been there a bunch of times over my life, and it ALWAYS hurts...so much!!! :(

Feeling for you,

Tevai

I'm so sorry. I know all too well how you feel.

We had to say goodbye to one of our beloved boxers at 7 and there's something about losing them at a younger age that hurts even more - as impossible as that may seem.

Rest in peace, Chunkie.

Renal failure is nasty with doggies. Shortly before my mom rescued me, she lost a sweet Silky Terrier named Mack to it. The vet told her that cats actually get by a lot better with kidney failure- there are meds that help them a bit- and can live longer than dogs with it.

Wish I'd a known Mack. He was a mensch-dog, mom says.

Deepest sympathy from me and mom.

Yes, I had a cat with renal failure. I had to give him fluids every night. I called it "Kitty Dialysis." He seemed to do okay with it and lived in pretty good health that way for 2 years.

So sorry to hear about your dog. Losing an animal is so hard. Just like losing a family member.

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie --
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find -- it's your own affair --
But . . . you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone -- wherever it goes -- for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept'em, the more do we grieve;

For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long --
So why in -- Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

Mom says for the same reason you give your heart to a person.

She calls loss like that the sucky side of love.

I mean, whaddaya gonna do? Quit loving? I guess some folks might, just to avoid the pain of losing. She can't live that way, though; she says that's half-@$$ living!

Thank you all so much. The thoughts and poetry were beautiful and healing.

I know this pain, too, having gone through it with 3 dogs and a cat. I'm aware this will sound odd, but I wouldn't miss that pain for the world. I wouldn't know the pain without having known the love.

I'm really sorry for your loss.

Other Susan

I lost my little Zeus a little over a year ago. It is like losing family. My best to you.I recommend getting another dog when you are ready.

So sorry for your loss.
I still miss my 19 yr.old cat who passed 2 yrs. ago.
My pets are the best people I've ever known.

"How can that dog be, scratchin' at the back door..."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3M5dz0K-rJg

Sorry, for your loss. Dogs can be such amazing companions.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 01/27/2015 08:29AM by optional2.

I remember reading about cute little Chunkie. I'm sad for you, but glad Chunkie's not suffering.

Oh my. So sorry for your loss of your beloved little pet. It's so hard to see them go. They are so innocent. Only consolation is there is no more suffering.

I am so sorry. Know that you gave your little friend all of the love that she could hold. She had a good quality of life with you and she loved you with all her heart. I don't think she'll ever be too far from you.

(((hugs)))

Oh Dorothy, I am so very sorry for the loss of your beloved Chunkie.

Renal failure is awful and it was a gift of great love to take the suffering into your own heart rather than to ask her to suffer. You were a great puppy parent to love her so.

She is not that far from your side. In time, you will sense that.

I adopted a tiny dog 3 years ago. Found out within weeks he had a bad heart murmur. He has congestive heart failure and is on meds. I watch and wait, listen to him cough. And even so, he has brought SO MUCH JOY to our lives. I can't imagine living without him.

I lost a dog 4 years ago and my ex lost his dog 2 years ago (who stayed with me all day because I work at home).

It is living hell to lose our dogs. I wasn't going to get another one and then I read the end of a book where the person writing it said, "Once you have loved a dog, living without one is a life diminished."



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 01/26/2015 08:20PM by cl2.

I'm so sorry. We lost our 4 year old Great Dane to lymphoma this summer. It's bad enough to lose a dog, but so much worse when they're young. I was counting on a lot more years and I feel cheated.

I'm glad you did the right thing and let him go when he began to suffer. It's so hard.

When you're ready, consider getting another. We did and although we miss our sweet boy every single day, our days are now filled with the silly antics of a new puppy.

Sending my love and sympathy. Please take extra good care of yourself!

I Loved You Best

by Jim Willis


So this is where we part, My Friend,
and you'll run on, around the bend,
gone from sight, but not from mind,
new pleasures there you'll surely find.

I will go on, I'll find the strength,
life measures quality, not its length.
One long embrace before you leave,
share one last look, before I grieve.

There are others, that much is true,
but they be they, and they aren't you.
And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,
will remember well all you've taught.

Your place I'll hold, you will be missed,
the fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.
And as you journey to your final rest,
take with you this...I loved you best.


I'm so sorry for your loss.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 01/26/2015 08:47PM by DebbiePA.

So sorry for the loss of your dog. Pets are the best, and losing them is so hard.

So sorry, Dorothy. Losing a part of your family is never easy.

I meant to comment at the bottom of the thread. Thanks to all of you. The poetry and thoughts were beautiful. Chunkie, we found out, was born with tiny kidneys. We found this via ultra sound, trying to figure out how such a young dog had kidney failure. I think the first set of vets saw how severe things were and figured I'd just love her for a few weeks and release her. After I moved, I pushed for more aggressive treatment. I ended up devoting 8 months of my life to four day a week vet visits--I know I could have done the fluid boluses myself, I'm a pediatric nurse--I just couldn't do it. Chunkie loved to go visit "the ladies". They loved her.

DH never balked at the loss of my income or the thousands we spent on Chunkie because he loved her maybe more than I did, if possible. I've never seen him weep like the day we "retired her" his words. The last two weeks were a little rough, but other than that Chunkie stayed fat and happy. The last few days she enjoyed burgers with her dad. Her last night she would only sniff the burger and that's when DH knew it was time.

We have two thirteen year old chi-weenies. They are sweet and lovable, just not Chunkie--a fuzzy, hold-me, melt into your chest and rub me forever doggie.

Thanks again for all the doggie love and support.

"Dogs don't die.
Some of you, particularly those who think they have recently lost a dog to “death” don’t really understand this. I've had no desire to explain, but won’t be around forever and must.
Dogs never die. They don’t know how to. They get tired, and very old, and their bones hurt. Of course they don’t die. If they did they would not want to always go for a walk, even long after their old bones say:” No, no, not a good idea. Let’s not go for a walk.” Nope, dogs always want to go for a walk. They might get one step before their aging tendons collapse them into a heap on the floor, but that’s what dogs are. They walk.
It’s not that they dislike your company. On the contrary, a walk with you is all there is. Their boss, and the cacaphonic symphony of odor that the world is. Cat poop, another dog’s mark, a rotting chicken bone (exultation), and you. That’s what makes their world perfect, and in a perfect world death has no place.
However, dogs get very very sleepy. That’s the thing, you see. They don’t teach you that at the fancy university where they explain about quarks, gluons, and Keynesian economics. They know so much they forget that dogs never die. It’s a shame, really. Dogs have so much to offer and people just talk a lot.

When you think your dog has died, it has just fallen asleep in your heart. And by the way, it is wagging it’s tail madly, you see, and that’s why your chest hurts so much and you cry all the time. Who would not cry with a happy dog wagging its tail in their chest. Ouch! Wap wap wap wap wap, that hurts. But they only wag when they wake up. That’s when they say: “Thanks Boss! Thanks for a warm place to sleep and always next to your heart, the best place.”
When they first fall asleep, they wake up all the time, and that’s why, of course, you cry all the time. Wap, wap, wap. After a while they sleep more. (remember, a dog while is not a human while. You take your dog for walk, it’s a day full of adventure in an hour. Then you come home and it’s a week, well one of your days, but a week, really, before the dog gets another walk. No WONDER they love walks.)
Anyway, like I was saying, they fall asleep in your heart, and when they wake up, they wag their tail. After a few dog years, they sleep for longer naps, and you would too. They were a GOOD DOG all their life, and you both know it. It gets tiring being a good dog all the time, particularly when you get old and your bones hurt and you fall on your face and don’t want to go outside to pee when it is raining but do anyway, because you are a good dog. So understand, after they have been sleeping in your heart, they will sleep longer and longer.
But don’t get fooled. They are not “dead.” There’s no such thing, really. They are sleeping in your heart, and they will wake up, usually when you’re not expecting it. It’s just who they are.
I feel sorry for people who don’t have dogs sleeping in their heart. You're missed so much. Excuse me, I have to go cry now."



Text by MilkyJ

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together

Author unknown

Remember in the movie "What Dreams May Come" in which Robin Williams has to search for his wife, who is in the hereafter? He discovers that his wife actually painted a picture of the cottage where she would live after she died, and he finally finds it. His dog comes running out the cottage door, down the path to greet him.

When I was five, my grandpa gave me a Corgi, across the street from my school, for me to come home from school. He had an inner clock, and my mother had to let him out, no matter how bad the weather was. In junior high and high school, the bus would let us off in front of that same school. When I went away to college, he died, and I was too broken-hearted to go home that Christmas. Through all the turmoil of growing up, of being bullied by my brother, being a Mormon, my little red dog was there to wag his tail and smile at me. Sometime, I was the only one I could talk to. He slept beside my bed every night, as he was not allowed to be on the bed, and he guarded my door. If my mother and I went somewhere in the car, he would be waiting in front of our long driveway, and he would lead us in, with his tail held high in the air, and prancing like the happiest little dog in the world. We taught him a lot of tricks. Each dog is one of a kind.

I didn't get another dog until 50 years later. She was a black lab puppy, sick with a cold, and no one wanted a sick dog. She had had her spay surgery at too young an age, and was not recovering well from that. She was being put into the back of a cold truck, to be taken on a 400 mile journey in a snowstorm, back to Friends Sanctuary, and my daughter and I ran up to them and said we wanted that dog! That was the only time in her life that she was sick, and she grew healthy, and went on hikes with me almost every day. She was eager to please, smart, and so GOOD. When the kids left home to go to school, it was a rough time for me, and I didn't know if they would ever come back. It was me and my dog, alone in my house, for 5 years. She slept on my bed, and would warn me if anyone came into our yard. She knew to bark at men in suits who came to my door! My children came home for graduate work, and marriage, and grandchildren, who adored my dog. She loved to play fetch, and hide the bone. She would "talk" in a growly voice, and seemed to be forming words. The neighbors called her the "smile dog" because she could curl up her lips in a smile. When I was sick, she would let me hold her on the couch, when we watched TV, and her soft warm presence would comfort me.

Every day she would roll on the back lawn--whether it was rainy mud, ice, or green grass. I was depressed, and decided to go out there and roll with her, too, and that became the best anti-depressant, ever, (besides resigning from the cult.) When my dog go old, she got cancer, but the doctor said she wasn't in pain, and that she would let us know. On her last day, she rolled on the grass, and came in to make me go on a hike with her.

Yeah, Gordo, dogs always want to go on a walk. I kept offering to turn around and go home, but she wanted to push forward. She was a little slow, but we went to the very end of our favorite trail, sat and rested a bit, then went back to the car. I had a ramp for her into the back of the car, but first she had to go chase a squirrel. It was getting dusk. On the way home, she started to whimper, and at home, she went down the ramp, and laid down on the front lawn, and wouldn't get up. It was time. The hospital was ready for us, they knew us, and they let me hold her and tell her what a good dog she was, the whole time. I wish I could hug her big, warm body once more. A black lab is an ideal dog--mellow, good with children, cooperative, and a great friend.

Sorry to get carried away, but all your poems and entries made me cry.