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Exodus1984 posted:Posting in this subforum for one of the first times, because I am quite sad. Had to put my dog (Cooper) to sleep suddenly on Sunday. More likely than not cancer. Cooper would have been 10 in April, and we had him since he was about 3 months old. A force of nature, Cooper's only fear was the low battery of a smoke alarm. A lover of ice cream, peanut butter, tennis balls, and carrots. Present for countless life events, good and bad, great with my two toddlers, always up for car ride or walk. Smart, playful, and kind with a menacing bark which was the definition of all bark and no bite. The only time he ever became aggressive in his 9 3/4 short years was about 3 months ago when a larger dog approached my daughters, and I was proud of him for it - he loved them so much. He was a good boy. Look at his expression in that photo -- it's obvious he loved you very much, and there's no question he was a very Good Boy.
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Feb 15, 2023 13:36
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WhiteHowler posted:I'm sorry for your loss. Adrianics posted:Cooper gets an 11/10 from me. What a king's fate for such a wonderful dog, to not just be adopted by loving owners but considered a true and valued member of the family. He left this world having known nothing but love, comfort and joy. You could not have done better by him <3 Thank you. He really was a good boy. Exodus1984 fucked around with this message at 12:30 on Feb 18, 2023 |
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Feb 15, 2023 13:40
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Exodus1984 posted:Posting in this subforum for one of the first times, because I am quite sad. Had to put my dog (Cooper) to sleep suddenly on Sunday. More likely than not cancer. Cooper would have been 10 in April, and we had him since he was about 3 months old. A force of nature, Cooper's only fear was the low battery of a smoke alarm. A lover of ice cream, peanut butter, tennis balls, and carrots. Present for countless life events, good and bad, great with my two toddlers, always up for car ride or walk. Smart, playful, and kind with a menacing bark which was the definition of all bark and no bite. The only time he ever became aggressive in his 9 3/4 short years was about 3 months ago when a larger dog approached my daughters, and I was proud of him for it - he loved them so much. He was a good boy. Cooper gets an 11/10 from me. What a king's fate for such a wonderful dog, to not just be adopted by loving owners but considered a true and valued member of the family. He left this world having known nothing but love, comfort and joy. You could not have done better by him <3
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Feb 15, 2023 23:28
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Growing up, I never had pets. My mom didn't want any. So when my then-girlfriend and I got a cat, it was kind of a big deal. We went to the shelter and toured the cat cages and all. There was one cat that came right to the door and started INSISTENTLY meowing, DEMANDING our affection. She wouldn't take no for an answer, and exacted her due in head scratches. That was the moment we decided, nearly as soon as we walked in, that we needed to adopt her. That was sixteen years ago. The shelter estimated she was approximately two, and had been on the streets for at least some period of time. She had a slight wheeze, and turned out to be near euthanization determination, before our state became no-kill. So we quite literally saved her life. Her name was Mia, which was perfect as far as we were concerned. She was such a social kitty, always jumping into peoples' laps for pets. She was also hellaciously naughty, jumping on places she shouldn't have, but that's cats. Over the past week, she has gotten SO thin, and this once nimble, acrobatic cat now struggles to walk three feet without staggering sideways. She's resting near constantly. Tomorrow, assuming she makes it through the night, we will be taking her to the vet to go to sleep one last time. She's not the first pet I've lost, our other cat died a few years ago. But I'm going to be saying goodbye to a friend who I've poured love into daily for almost half my life, and it just hurts. It's a sick and painful dichotomy between taking her home from the shelter and her roaming all over the car, to taking her to the vet wrapped in a blanket or tshirt so there's a familiar smell of us to comfort her as we go to say goodbye. I know with time, this sharp hurt will lessen, but that's cold comfort to me in the here and now. I love you, Mia. You can rest, sweetheart, you don't owe us anything else, you deserve comfort now  
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Feb 20, 2023 03:25
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mercenarynuker posted:It's a sick and painful dichotomy between taking her home from the shelter and her roaming all over the car, to taking her to the vet wrapped in a blanket or tshirt so there's a familiar smell of us to comfort her as we go to say goodbye. Sorry does not really cut it here, but I am glad you were there for your friend.
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Feb 21, 2023 02:55
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What a wonderful story. Thank you for answering Mia's call and showing her a long life full of love, care and affection
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Feb 23, 2023 15:40
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She wasn't a pet, but one of the ferals that lives on our street (she was trap-neuter-released and lived here as a feral her whole life) may have passed away. She was in a bonded pair with another of the local cats, and they would always come to our house for food together. She was more skittish though, so her partner would always come up begging, and then once there was food out she'd rush over and knock him out of the way to get to it. They'd eat together with their tails intertwined and then go play and nap in the sunny spots in the yard. She was the tabby on the right in this picture. We called her Buddy. It's possible she's still around and it was a doppelganger who got hit, but I'm not holding my breath 
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Mar 2, 2023 19:10
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Reading through this thread and seeing everyone post their beloved companions has made me laugh and cry about remembering my own little guy. I hope everyone's doing okay because this is hard. This was Dozer, and he was my family's best bud for 17 years. An absolute goof who had his own way about things and nobody could tell him otherwise.  https://i.imgur.com/x6MWFcg.mp4     I'll miss you Dozey
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Mar 4, 2023 10:01
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 This is Ruby. She’s an 18.5 year old Blue Heeler/Chow mix and she just had a partial tumor removed. The vet said she has around 6 months max left. In the photo she’s angry that she just got a bath. Judicial amounts of treats and laying on the porch fixed her grumpiness. FlapYoJacks fucked around with this message at 18:16 on Mar 8, 2023 |
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Mar 8, 2023 18:12
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Saying goodbye to the best cat I've ever met, Dargon the devon rex , who was put down this morning. Despite her perma-grumpy face, she was incredibly relaxed, even falling asleep in my lap while I was cutting her nails. I'll really miss her. She was about 14 and had sudden organ failure.  The last pic I have of her from Tuesday. Farewell to the best ball of dryer lint I've ever met. 
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Mar 9, 2023 17:55
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Condolences. She looks so fluffy and warm. May sue warm many laps in cat heaven. 12 out of 10.
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Mar 9, 2023 17:59
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Now that I've composed myself somewhat, I want to write about my precious boy Radar who passed away Sunday morning. He was a brindle half pitbull, half bluetick coonhound. He was 11 going on 12 years old.  In his last couple years, Radar had some intermittent mobility issues in his old age. And Saturday night, March 11, 2023, when I was helping him climb into bed, I lifted him by his chest and he suddenly shrieked in pain. I figured he must have some kind of muscle injury again, so I made him comfortable on the floor so we could deal with it in the morning. Except he did not get comfortable. He was breathing shallow, panting, and pacing restlessly. What I figured was a pain response to an injury (not the first time I've seen this), was possibly something more serious because he was shaking raggedly when breathing and started hacking up some kind of white fluid. At 3 AM I took him to the emergency vet. The vet thought there might be a problem with his neck and possibly a distended stomach, so they took him back for x-rays and ultrasound. Instead, they found massive fluid buildup in his chest cavity which turned out to be straight up blood. They went back to drain the blood and re-image him to find the root cause. The wait was agonizing. It was a tumor - a rather large one - on or near his heart which caused a rupture and massive internal hemorrhaging. The vets told me he was between a rock and a hard place, that he would need continuous transfusions and draining of fluid just to get him to the point where he could see a specialist to figure out next steps. Even then his odds were very poor because of the size and location of this loving tumor. They recommended euthanasia. Through sobs and arguing (or really, bargaining), I finally agreed. Otherwise, he risks bleeding out and suffocating at the same time in his own fluids. I will not put my boy through that. Thankfully, my mom lives close-ish by and came to offer support in the middle of the night, god bless her. I was able to find one (1) traveling vet that would do home euthanasia on Sundays and she wouldn't be available until 7PM. This was at around 7 AM and because it was off hours, the cost was exorbitant. We would put him to sleep right there in the ER. When they finally wheeled him into our rather nice waiting room, he was sleepy from all the drugs and blood loss, but he still perked up when he saw us. I was kissing him, petting him and giving him his favorite ear massages, but he still seemed like he wanted to climb down off the gurney. He's a smart boy, he knows something is up. I had the tech give him a little more juice to calm him down because he was scared, which shattered my heart. We gaze into each other's eyes for awhile and Radar has tears too. I know dogs don't cry like we do, but it was uncanny. It fucks me up so bad, I can't get that image out of my head. He didn't want to go. The last thing he saw was his dad telling him everything will be ok and we'll be together again soon. I am sobbing my guts out as I write this. It was the most emotionally brutal thing I have ever experienced, but I know he’s no longer suffering or afraid.  Radar was a "rescue", in a sense. His original owner was an acquaintance of my cousin's - a scumbag who mostly kept him in a small room with broken glass and fed him table scraps. My cousins would occasionally kidnap him for trips to the park and vet and such. I don't know much about this era of his life, but I do know he lived this way for around a year - his entire puppyhood. I found this out much later, but it qualifies as animal abuse, imo.   Here he is at 4 months old in late 2011. I wouldn't even meet him for another 5 years. Shortly after this was taken, my cousin adopted him. My cousin is not a scumbag, but he was a fuckup and he was not in a position to care for a dog at the time. He lived off and on between my uncle and my cousin until October 2016 when they started reaching out to find him a new home. They contacted me directly and asked if I wanted to meet him. I was extremely busy with work and about to have eye surgery where I would be effectively blind for days on end afterwards, but I humored them. What I found was the most beautiful and friendly brindle dog that I’ve ever seen and fell in love instantly. Seriously, just look at this boy. How can you not?  Well, he didn’t look exactly like this at the time. His neck was swollen from a severe ear infection. After our first vet visit, we were able to clear it up pretty quickly. The vet said if it had gone on much longer, he would have lost his hearing. He was also badly overweight. Like I said, my cousin was a fuckup. Living with him was a significant upgrade from living with the scumbag, but it still wasn’t great for him. My uncle did a much better job when he was with him is my understanding. His first year or so with me was a bit rocky – by the time I took him home, he was already five years old with some bad habits. He came from a nasty situation and was poorly socialized with very little structure or routine in his life. He was already potty trained and was mostly fine in the house but walking him was a nightmare at first – he acted like a menace to society and was extremely reactive to other dogs. I researched everything I could about dog training and long story short, I turned him into a respectable citizen through positive reinforcement, heel training, and proper socialization. And treats. So many goddamn treats. He still had some problems with other dogs even until his last days, but it was very manageable.  Here he is with his little doggy boot on to protect his bandages. This is after he managed to split his toenail in half after busting through the backyard fence like the drat Kool-Aid man to get to one of his dog rivals walking by. Like a dog catching a car, he didn’t even know what to do, so they just stared each other down and thankfully the incident was resolved peacefully. Except for the toenail thing. Good job, you goober.    We had six great years of twice daily walks, frequent trips to the park, car rides, hikes and the occasional feud with the neighbor dogs. Even though he had reactive behavior at times with cats and dogs, he wouldn’t hurt a fly – a true gentle giant. He never once bit anyone, or another dog, other than playing. He was the best cuddler and thought he was a lap dog even though he weighed 95 pounds. He didn’t care about toys and couldn’t fetch to save his life. What he did love was wrestling and tag. We would wear each other out roughhousing and running around the backyard like a couple of idiots. He loved people, even total strangers. If someone broke in, he would probably give them a tour.   Given his reactive nature to anything with four legs, I thought he would be a handful when I decided to take him to meet my mom's dogs, Finny and Katy. He must have known instinctively that they were members of the pack and they were best buddies immediately, rather unexpectedly.  Then along came Mocha, the abandoned stray   Mailman   He loved to roll around in the grass and sunbathe. He would take naps just like this while basking. Rolling was also his favorite dawdling tactic when he didn’t want to go home from a walk.  His appetite was legendary and a sort of running gag. Maybe because of trauma from his early life, but that boy loved to eat. Then, in some sort of cruel, cosmic irony, he’s diagnosed with hypothyroidism (which increases appetite) and then some months later, Cushing’s disease (which increases appetite). Thankfully, the vet got those under control through medication and his appetite went back to normal insane levels, down from insane insane levels.   I never met a dog who loved to hide under the covers like this guy. He loved to cuddle while swaddled like a baby with his nose poking out. He was adorable beyond description. Sorry for the 5 billion words. I could write 5 billion more. I just wanted to tell his story and scream from the rooftops how much I loved and adored this dog. I’d also like to say that I read every single story in this thread from start to finish. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in these feelings. His passing leaves a gaping hole in my heart, and the world, but I know he had a good life and brought immense joy to me and everyone he met. I love you so much, buddy. 
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Mar 14, 2023 22:10
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Top Gun Reference posted:Sorry for the 5 billion words. I could write 5 billion more. I just wanted to tell his story and scream from the rooftops how much I loved and adored this dog. I’d also like to say that I read every single story in this thread from start to finish. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in these feelings. His passing leaves a gaping hole in my heart, and the world, but I know he had a good life and brought immense joy to me and everyone he met. I love you so much, buddy. You never need to apologize for using this thread to process and heal. Post five billion more words if you need to. I too read every word posted here, and many of the stories (including yours) bring back those feelings I had when I lost my last pet. But every time it gets just a little bit easier, and knowing that our stories helps others is valuable. Radar was a beautiful dog, and I love his fondness for blankets. Seeing that nose poking out made me smile. The memories will make you smile again, when you're ready. Until then, take care of yourself and the others who loved him. WhiteHowler fucked around with this message at 02:53 on Mar 15, 2023 |
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Mar 15, 2023 02:48
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WhiteHowler posted:You never need to apologize for using this thread to process and heal. Post five billion more words if you need to. Thank you for the kind words.  Writing a little eulogy for him was cathartic and helped me focus on the good times we had instead of dwelling on his last day or the feelings of absence.VVVVV thank you so much Top Gun Reference fucked around with this message at 15:55 on Mar 16, 2023 |
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Mar 15, 2023 09:42
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I'm sorry that you had to say goodbye. He was an absolutely beautiful boy (I love brindled dogs), and seemed like a wonderful buddy to have. I love how he and Mocha matched.  I'm glad writing your thoughts out helped, and I hope you can take comfort in the fact that you provided him with a loving home and made him a happy boy.
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Mar 15, 2023 13:57
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Well, we've just had a one-two punch. About 8 years ago, my brother and his then-wife found three kittens by the side of the road in a box. When they made up their mind to go back for them, there were only two left - and since they were big fans of the Office, they were named Dwight and Jim.  About a year later, after they had a kid and got divorced, they needed someone to take care of Dwight and Jim, for "just a few weeks" until they can get everything situated.  Dwight and Jim never left. Over, time we got to know their different personalities.   Jim was super outgoing, sweet, and loved nothing more than to curl up right on your chest purr deafeningly loudly. If you weren't giving him attention, he would scream at you until he did. Though initially skittish around strangers, after a few minutes he would come cautiously out to let people adore him. My wife often described him as "prettier than most humans"   Dwight, on the other hand, was much more quiet. When he did meow, it was a high pitched squeak. He would hide from any guest and only come out when they're gone. He would jump up on the arm of a chair or a bed for pets, but but he was not a lap cat by any stretch of the imagination. Despite their personality differences, they got along wonderfully. I have so many pictures of them snuggling together that it was difficult to pick just a few.    Jim stopped eating over a week ago and was generally lethargic. We noticed this on a Sunday, so we took him to the emergency vet. They did some tests, and it turns out his kidneys were failing, big time. They tried to push fluid through and see if they could make him good enough to keep him going with an altered diet, but by the next day it was obvious he was suffering and he was still not eating, so we made the decision to end his pain. He went out in our arms, purring. Just yesterday was Dwight's regular checkup. I insisted on blood tests to make sure Dwight didn't have the same kidney problems as Jim did, since they were littermates. Turns out Dwight does. He's not as bad off as Jim was,, but he's still in Stage 2 renal failure. With meds and an altered diet, hopefully we'll still have him for a while more, but the vet said he has six month to a year left. Give your animals a hug.
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Mar 15, 2023 20:40
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Top Gun Reference posted:
So sorry for your loss. Sounds like an absolutely good boy.
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Mar 19, 2023 01:59
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 This is Abby. She was my best friend for almost 17 years and I put her to rest Monday morning. I got her from a friend of mine when I was 19. He died later on in our early 20s. So she had a lot of sentimental value to me just based on that. But even moreso she was the sweetest cat on earth. She was skittish with new people but loved the ones she knew and chose to get scratches from. She knew when you were sad. She would be such a little chatterbox, rest her paws on your hand and paw at you for attention. She loved to snuggle and play. I feel like I've said these things so much the past few days to so many people but talking about it helps. But my connection with her was out of this world. Abby followed me everywhere. And if I was busy fussing over something, she would know where I was going next, and just sit and wait, patiently watching. She'd never leave me alone except for when sleeping or bothering someone else. Every morning I would be greeted by her following me around begging for food, when I got home she would lead me to where I would sit or lay so she could get scratches and love. She even picked up a habit of going to the bathroom at the same time as me. In November she got sick. One morning I just found her sitting under my desk and giving me sad meows. She had diarrhea and was lethargic, not eating. I took her in and she got diagnosed with pancreatitis. They told me that's almost never the only problem in cats, and that it always has a root cause. Usually thyroid, irritable bowel, or lymphoma. Well, she got better with the meds. Then in January she got worse again, and needed to be put on steroids to figure out whether it was one or the other two remaining things (her thyroid came back normal). With injections at home she started to improve a little bit. She was eating, and happy, and enjoying life. But she just wouldn't put weight back on. She had been a 10 lb cat her whole life and had gone down to 6. I got two more happy months out of her after January. Then this weekend, she stopped eating, and new steroids wouldn't get her to eat any more. The vet shaved her leg to put the needle in and saw her skin had started to yellow, indicating her liver failing. He told me that without long term improvement on steroids he was leaning more toward lymphoma than IBD, and we agreed that putting her to rest was the best thing for her. I miss her terribly. I feel such overwhelming guilt not because I didn't do everything I could. I tried so, so hard to make her better. I am just so sorry that there wasn't anything else that could be done. She was such a sweetheart and she just didn't deserve for biology to just happen to her like that. But it did, and I know I'm yelling at a cloud. Treating her illness was hard, but waking up without her little meows and pestering me is so much harder. I find myself looking for her in her little spots out of habit as I walk through my apartment. I fall to pieces seemingly at random. It's one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through. But I loved her, and I tried my best, and I hope she understands. She filled my life with so much love I hope I was able to give even a fraction of it back. My last words to her were "Thank you." She was gone in an instant. I know that one day I will be able to think of her and smile instead of falling apart. But that's not today. NomChompsky fucked around with this message at 06:07 on Mar 24, 2023 |
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Mar 22, 2023 06:45
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Top Gun Reference posted:Sorry for the 5 billion words. I could write 5 billion more. I just wanted to tell his story and scream from the rooftops how much I loved and adored this dog. I’d also like to say that I read every single story in this thread from start to finish. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in these feelings. His passing leaves a gaping hole in my heart, and the world, but I know he had a good life and brought immense joy to me and everyone he met. I love you so much, buddy. Thank you so much for telling Radar's story and for telling it so well. I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this happened so suddenly and far before either of you were ready, but thanks to you Radar went out of his world far happier than he was when he came into it, and you rescued him from a lovely start in order to give him a perfect middle and end. He died surrounded by your love, as he will be forever now. I hope you're okay and have people you can talk to about your experiences; being with a pet as they're euthanised is deeply traumatic and deserves to be taken seriously.
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Mar 29, 2023 21:06
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Adrianics posted:Thank you so much for telling Radar's story and for telling it so well. I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this happened so suddenly and far before either of you were ready, but thanks to you Radar went out of his world far happier than he was when he came into it, and you rescued him from a lovely start in order to give him a perfect middle and end. He died surrounded by your love, as he will be forever now. Thank you, and to everyone offering condolences. My friends and family have been very supportive and they’re all animal lovers too, so they know how devastating it can be. I can’t imagine going through this alone. This thread has also been very helpful. I picked up his cremains last week and made a nice little memorial for him which is an important step. I also donated his food and medicine to one of the local vet clinics. Partly an act of charity, and partly because seeing his stuff around the house was too painful. Getting closure is important and hopefully someone can use it. I’d also like to offer my own condolences to Smilingfish and NomChompsky. Really, everyone who posted ITT. I know what you’re going through, and it sucks so incredibly much. Saying “it gets easier” might be a bit of a cliche for dealing with grief, but it’s true. The love we have, and the longing doesn’t diminish, nor should it, but we get better at coping. Hopefully Dwight will stick around for awhile and you can spend as much quality time as possible with him. 'Give your animals a hug' is right – life is too drat short and it’s important to make every second count with our loved ones. Recent events have definitely put that into sharper focus for me. NomChompsky posted:She was such a sweetheart and she just didn't deserve for biology to just happen to her like that. Also, this made me chuckle bitterly and I feel this so strongly. Biology is a motherfucker. Top Gun Reference fucked around with this message at 01:52 on Mar 30, 2023 |
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Mar 30, 2023 01:38
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Six months turned into five weeks. I’m sitting here at 5am waiting for an ER doctor to put our beloved Ruby down. 18.5 years old. She passed away in comfort and in my wife’s and my arms. She knew she was loved and I hope she knew it was time for her to get in the garbage and eat Costco chicken in dog heaven. In some ways, having a dog live for so long is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing is you prepare for the inevitable. You know it’s going to come in one way or another, and as the years tick by, and you see them slowly get weaker, or change personalities, you learn to love not one, but four dogs. The puppy, the adolescent, the middle age, and the senior. She had slight dementia for the last year but always recognized mom and me. She would often forget what she was doing or where she was, but the four constants in her life were us, love, and treats. Her passing by medical condition instead of natural causes is the most difficult part. Even today she had an apatite. But the ragged breathing we took at first for pain in her back legs didn’t stop and eventually we saw blood in her mouth and we knew it was her time to pass on. Ruby was an amazing, gentle, kind dog who was a good girl for her entire life. I will always remember her fondly. 
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Apr 3, 2023 12:53
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I just found this thread, and I need someplace to put my thoughts today. I lost my boy Rocket last night, and I'm devastated.  II was very luck to find him. I wanted a dog for years and years but didn't have the money or space for one. When I finally got a good job and moved into a place in Seattle that allowed dogs I went looking for one. I started with the local shelters, thing is that in Seattle it's really hard to adopt a shelter dog because everyone wants to, I spent weeks and weeks going to the shelters and they were always empty or just had dogs I couldn't have at my place. I talked to local rescues and they were only interested in sending dogs to homes with families and houses, so single apartment dwellers like me were out of luck I couldn't afford a dog from a legitimate breeder, so I was about to give up on my quest when I looked in the local classifieds and found an ad for a litter of "Black Golden Retrievers" with a photo of a half dozen little fluffy black puppies. I put down a deposit right away and waited almost a month before they were old enough to take home. I talked to the breeder, he had been a champion Golden Retriever breeder for decades, and decided he wanted to try something new. He heard about Flat Coat Retrievers and found a pure bred mating pair. Before he could get a litter though the male got sick and died. So he had this female Flat Coat, but no male to breed her with, so he started breeding her with his goldens, after a couple generations he had black golden retrievers and since they're not a recognized pedigreed breed he had to sell them at an affordable price. I had second pick of the litter and the family that came right before me had two little kids that ran the puppies around and got them all exhausted, so when I got there they were all asleep. I picked him more or less at random and took him home. I named him Rocket after Rocket Racoon, because GoTG is one of my favorite movies and I realized that when he got old, and his muzzle turned grey he would look like Rocket Racoon. The first month I had him, i got no sleep because his kennel wouldn't fit in my room and if I left him alone at night he would cry, so I'd lay on the living room floor next to his kennel and try unsuccessfully to sleep. He was an absolute terror as a puppy because he put his mouth on everything, he didn't have a strong bite, but he had needle sharp teeth that easily broke the skin if he put his mouth around your hand. I've always wanted a dog that would catch a frisbee, and I assumed that would be second nature to a golden retriever, but Rocket not only couldn't catch anything, even if you threw it directly into his mouth, he was terrible at fetching. He liked to chase anything you threw, but instead of bringing it back he would just run off someplace and chew on it. No amounts of rewards would get him to return things you threw for him. When I moved to Hollywood for a new job, I had to leave him with friends for a month while my new apartment was getting finished. It was the longest we ever been apart. When I picked him up at the airport a crowd gathered to watch him because he was so excited to see me. Our apartment was small but he didn't mind, he liked to sleep in the walk-in shower, I think he preferred the cool tile floor and the den-like space. I would drive around town with him in the front seat of my car, he like to hang his head out the window people often pulled up alongside us just to talk to him. I took him to work with me every couple weeks, it was a lot of work keeping him under control but everyone loved having him around the office. He loved everyone and he loved going anyplace, especially the vet, he got sick once, vomiting and diarrhea all over the place. I called the vet and the said to bring him in. When I got there he couldn't control his excitement, and the nurse said "he doesn't look sick." I told her that's because he loved the vet. they said they'd "keep him for observation" a couple hours later they called me and said "oh yeah he's sick all right." When Covid happened I stopped going to the office, it meant we had a lot more time together but it also meant he didn't get to see anyone other than me. Since I was working from home more or less permanently I bought a house out in the suburbs, one with a nice small yard that he could run around in. I would often find him sitting on the patio just gazing out into the yard like it was his domain. He acted like a big doofus but he was wicked smart, he knew what he could get away with. He was quiet and almost never barked except when the doorbell rang because he thought that meant somebody was coming to see him. One day the doorbell rang and he started barking so I went and answered it, it was my neighbor and he asked if my dog was out. I turn around and said "nope he's right here" and he said, "Well there's a dog that looks just like him over on the side of your house". So I went outside to investigate and found that the side gate to the backyard had blown open just enough for Rocket to get out and I realized what he had done. He got out the gate and was running around the neighborhood playing with some kids, and when he saw somebody coming to tell on him he quickly ran back through the gate, in the back door and then barked at the doorbell like he'd been there the whole time. Unlike most dogs he chose when he wanted to respond to commands. If I told him to sit, he would think about it for a moment and I often had to ask him "What did I just say?" before he would actually sit down. His favorite treat was popcorn, he would sit next to me on the couch while I watched movies and each time I took a handful of popcorn for myself, I would throw one kernet to him, he almost never caught them, but he was really good at hunting them down on the floor or in the crevices of the couch. I don't know if he loved popcorn for the taste or just that it was something I shared with him. He always tried to lead the way when I walked from room to room, I had this conversation with him every single day day. "You're in my way" "You're still in my way" "Why are you always in my way?" "It's Ok, I still love you" "I love you very much buddy" If somebody were listening to me from outside they would think I was crazy, but I don't care I wanted to make sure he knew how much I loved him. Last week I went out of town, I had to put him up in a pet hotel, he loved it there, so many other dogs to play with him, and nice attendants to pay attention to him. My return flight was delayed and I had to pick him up late on Monday night, he was happy and excited to see me and was super happy to get home. I gave him some food and gobbled it up before going outside (his usual routine) I sat down to watch TV and after a bit realized he hadn't come back inside. I went out and called him, it was dark but he ran back into the house but instead of joining me on the couch he crawled under the dining room table and wouldn't come out. He started grunting and rolling around on the floor. I finally enticed him out to sit on the couch and a huge stream of drool was flowing from his mouth, I assumed he had just eaten something in the backyard that didn't agree with him (he would eat anything he could find) but after an hour he was still crying and becoming lethargic. it was late and so I called a 24 hour emergency vet clinic and they said I should bring him in, I took him in, and waited with him for our turn. When the nurse saw him he noticed his belly was swollen and then rushed him for x-rays. A doctor came back and told me his stomach was twisted, I'd heard about that in dogs, and knew it could be fatal. I was suddenly in panic mode. They did some more tests and x-rays and determined that his stomach was badly twisted and that the only way to save him was through surgery, I handed them my credit card and said "Please fix my best friend". They said it would be four or five hours before they knew if it was a success, and suggested I go home. Three hours later at home the doctor called me and explained that his internal organs were too badly damaged to recover, that if they completed the surgery the best he could hope for was a short and painful life. I made the decision to let him go, he was still unconscious for the surgery and I didn't want him to suffer anymore. So I went back and sat with him while they administered the injection to put him down. I was there at the end, but he had no way of knowing that. I loved him so much, I hope he understood that. He was only 6 years old, he was taken so early, I wanted him to be with me forever. He was the best dog there ever was or ever will be, I don't know what I'm going to do without him.  The day after I got him he went on his first trip to the vet and gave me the littlest ahwoo.  He quickly grew out of his tiny red harness, i had to replace them several times. He was 10lbs when I got him and 80lbs the last time he went to the vet.  He graduated from obedience school, but I think he might have skated on his good looks.  This is where he laid down on the couch while I was at work, he would be laying like this facing the door when I came home every day.  He was such a pretty dog, people would stop me on the street to tell me how pretty he was.  He was always happy and loved every single person he ever met.  I took him to work with me regularly, everyone loved having him there even though I didn't get much work done on those days.  He loved laying on his back on the couch next to me while I watched TV.  Every morning after I took a shower he would lay in the hallways and try to convince me to stay home from work. Even after I started working from home full time he continued to do this every morning.  He was a retriever with a waterproof coat, and he was raised in Seattle. so he never cared about the rain in California.  This was one of the last pictures I took of him, he was reminding me that it was time for his mid-morning chew-stick. I have lots more pictures, but not nearly enough, his coat was so black that cameras had a hard time focusing on him, and they often come out overexposed. I thought I would have so much more time to take more pictures.
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Apr 12, 2023 00:42
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This one really got me, the love you had for Rocket and sorrow you feel at his untimely passing really came off the page. I could not possibly be more sorry for you and everyone else who ever knew and loved Rocket. Under such impossible circumstances and facing such an awful choice I can honestly say I would have done exactly the same. I really hope you can at least hold your head up knowing he left this world exactly as loved as he was when he came in, and that you did everything possible.
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Apr 13, 2023 13:00
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 I lost Pippin over the holidays but I dreamt about him last night and need somewhere to put my thoughts. It wasn't the first time I've dreamt of him since he passed, but it was so vivid and felt so real; it was one of those dreams where you are basically in bed trying to sleep, in the same clothes and the light in your room is the exact same just like in real life when you closed your eyes so it's extra mind-fucky. I felt him at my feet, under the covers, one of his favorite places to sleep, and I nudged him with my foot and could feel him making his way up the bed to me. I could see his face come in to view from under the blankets and I felt such a rush of relief as I held him in my arms. "Pippin, oh Pippin!" I cried, like some lovely Hallmark movie. He had such a look of utter annoyance on his face, like he was saying, "what the heck, I'm right here, dummy" but I could so clearly feel him leaning in to my hug. I just remember holding him so tightly before, just, waking up. It feels like I lost him all over again. He was 19. I got him when I was 14 after my dad moved out. My mom wanted to get me and my brother pets to kind of make up for the fact that dad wasn't there any more, so we got Pippin and his brother, Nemo. We lost Nemo back in 2014, so Pippin finally got to join him again. He was with me through a lot of lovely stuff and he could always tell when I needed someone rub fur over my tear-stained face. Pippin was on a steady decline all last year, just losing weight and losing his eyesight. It was a struggle to get him to eat but I tried everything I could, even doing subdermal fluids to keep him hydrated. But his kidneys were going, and I knew that, and the vet finally told me mid-november that I should start looking in to end-of-life care. I'm glad he did because I was able to arrange for in-home euthinasia for him on the day after Christmas. I held him in my lap while he was surrounded by my roommates and my mom. He held on as long as he could and I still feel like maybe I should have called the doctor sooner. In his last couple weeks he could hardly make it to the litter box, but he still tried. He could definitely make it out to the heater vent in the kitchen, though. He mustered enough strength to meander out while my roommate was wrapping some last minute presents, too, whcih was incredibly funny, like, he just couldn't resist one last go as the Present Wrapping Helper(i.e. sit on the edge of the paper while looking very proud). The week before christmas brought some lovely weather which kept me home for a couple days from work and I just laid there in bed with him, watching tv and the snow outside, whith him curled up at my side. I feel like the weather granted me a couple extra days with him. I just miss feeling him curled up against me whenever I was in bed. My bed is so empty without him. Anyway, thank you guys for listening. And now I'm just sitting here reading every one else's posts and just weeping. Why is this so hard Happy Landfill fucked around with this message at 22:55 on Apr 21, 2023 |
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Apr 21, 2023 22:31
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Happy Landfill posted:
Pipping sounds like such a good little guy, and he was so lucky to have you in his life to love him and care for him not just when it was easy, but when it got hard. As painful as it is, I try to remind myself that the reason it's so overwhelming is that it's love. When you love them throughout their life you do it a bit at a time, but when they leave us you love them all at once. It smashes you to pieces because it's too much for your heart to even handle. But more and more you become able to. It doesn't get easier, but you get stronger. Feel better friend.
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Apr 24, 2023 01:06
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God speed, Pippin. I'm so sorry for your loss. I occasionally dream about the pets that I lost over the years, in many ways it's how we stay together. Your post reminded me of one of my favourite Calvin and Hobbes comics, which Watterson wrote after losing his cat, Sprite. I always share it with my friends who have lost their beloved pet: 
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Apr 25, 2023 09:19
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That really is the best Calvin and Hobbes It reminds me very much of this comic drawn by someone I follow on Twitter https://twitter.com/Lilblueorchid/status/1562164415906172930?s=20 I like to imagine our departed friends show up in our dreams to check on us, just to make sure we're doing okay. The rainbow bridge can sound a little hokey at times but it brings me comfort to think that they're waiting for us
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Apr 26, 2023 19:36
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I had to put our “little buddy” Leonidas to sleep this past weekend; he was 12 years old. He was a Chihuahua-Yorkie mix that was sold to someone as a “pure bred championship Yorkshire Terrier”. However, that person quickly decided they didn’t want him as he was “annoying” because he was “too affectionate” so we got him as a puppy. He was most likely the product of a puppy mill as the vets all pointed out that his legs were a little short and his chest cavity, instead of being oval shaped when viewed from the side, it was square shaped. As a result, all of his organs were shaped a little differently in order to fit into his cube shaped thorax. It was nothing that caused him discomfort or difficulty though. One issue he did have was tracheal collapse. He had a stent placed into his trachea years ago but the vet said that his collapse extended further down into both bronchus and there wasn’t anything they could do about that since they were too small for stents. This past November he started having some breathing issues and was in and out of the hospital quite a bit. He was put on various medications to help open his airways and increase blood flow to his lungs. During his last stay he was there for 3 weeks. His tracheal collapse was causing him to develop symptoms of pneumonia and the vets were having trouble getting him off supplemental oxygen. Last week the vet called me at 2 AM to say his heart had stopped but they had managed to resuscitate him. I knew then that it was time to let him go. Over the next few days he no longer wanted to eat and during my daily visits he seemed really confused. He would want to come out of his cage but he didn’t seem to be aware of who I was. On Saturday morning they called to say he was getting worse and needed a lot of oxygen so they suggested coming in to let him go. I went on Saturday with my mom since she was his favorite person and he didn’t see me to even be aware of her. He was just staring blankly and looking around. I’ve had many dogs throughout the years and it’s always extremely difficult to let them go but you need to realize there’s a point where you’re keeping them around for yourself and if you really love them, you need to let them go and let them have peace.  Mr. Apollo fucked around with this message at 17:22 on Apr 27, 2023 |
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Apr 27, 2023 17:19
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Mr. Apollo posted:
Making the final call is so, so hard, but it's always the right decision. My aunt, who has had many dogs over the years, told me that it is the best, most kind thing you can do for your friend. I still think I should have done it a day sooner. I'm so sorry for your loss. What a handsome guy!
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May 1, 2023 02:08
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Tomorrow, we're saying goodbye to Taters. I can't put a memorial to her in a tl;dr. I have to be verbose about it in order to process. Chalk it up to ADHD. Chalk it up to e/n. I need to tell my story somewhere, to put into type what I've talked about with my friends and family, in order to process what's about to happen. Taters is 16 years old. She's been with me for at least 15.5 of those years.  From 2010, taken on a freakin' Palm Pre She was adopted by a family friend of my wife's, who - there's no nice way to say it - is legally and developmentally an adult but not mentally an adult. My MIL (then my girlfriend's mom) took her in, but their existing elder cat did NOT approve. Thus, Taters came to us as "can you hang on to her until a permanent home is found?" We now have the term "foster fail" for this situation but at the time - September 2007 - we had one cat and weren't sure if the landlord or roommates would be OK with two. She eventually won us all over and the permanent home was with us. Taters was half of the two-cat rock of stability and love that was our life so far. She teased her elder sister Triangles, who was a valkyrie warrior princess cat from hell, in a loving and friendly way. Taters was there when my girlfriend became my fiance and we moved in together. She was there (well, not THERE there) when we got married. She was there when my wife got sick, and unable to drive or work. Or stand for long periods. Or look at things with blinking, flashing lights. She was there as I tried to figure out how the hell I could get into a better spot in my career so I could not only hate every single working day, but become the sole breadwinner. She was there when Triangles' tumor, first identified and removed in 2008, recurred. They said at that time Triangles had six months to live, but Triangles was too mean for cancer to deal with, and it took cancer four years to rally and come back. She ran from the vets who came to put Triangles to rest. She was there when we adopted two new cats and one of them began suffering to breathe, getting rushed to the shelter, and to the emergency vet. She was there when we grieved at the horrible, painful unfairness of losing Triangles - even though we wouldn't get bitten anymore - but how poor little Rudy didn't even last a week with us. Taters was there when Cecilia, the surviving kitten, came down from integration, while the loss of Rudy still burned so much as I was trying to claw against horrible impostor syndrome, under the pressure of being the sole breadwinner. She was there when I had nightmares, anxiety, worries, self-doubt, obsession, and for every turn of the thumbscrew, Taters was there - in my lap, on my chest, purring, schnoogling, curling up, loving me in a way I never thought myself worthy. She was there as my wife re-learned how to walk, how to pivot into a very different career. She was there as I tried to deal with all my personal and professional poo poo. She was there when my wife finally was able to work and got a job. As I skilled up, advanced, and got more and more into my career. She was there as tough therapy sessions got me slowly, slowly, somewhere closer to better. Always loving me in that way I didn't think I deserved. She was there when Cecilia suddenly declined, while my wife and I were still symptomatic and suffering from COVID. That horrible decline, that 18 hour period where her last hours in the world were spent with tubes, injections, blood draws, hospitals, and clinical professionals who cared and did their best, but in the end she didn't come home. Taters was there for us. For all the teasing Ceci did to Taters, she was there for us when her sister died suddenly and horribly. Then, over time... she just wasn't quite there anymore. We knew she wanted to know where Ceci was. She comforted us, but she had never been the only cat. She couldn't have known, but she knew. We tried slowly integrating her with Freddie. It was tough to start, we had our concerns, but they started eventually being OK with each other's presence - there are photos of Taters being on the same bed as Freddie, both of them resting comfortably. In the end, though, we had to put a temporary door to stop him - and soon, we had to shut Freddie upstairs entirely. Then Taters got sick. In October 2022, for two days she just stopped eating or drinking, and her little squeaky meows sounded strained. We'd gotten her bloodwork done in September - other than a slightly elevated ALT level, she was amazingly healthy for a 16 year old cat. One E-vet visit showed a possible buildup of gas due to unknown blockage - the meds they gave barely helped her eat. Another E-vet visit showed way higher ALT values. We had to force-feed her clinical care food in order to keep her alive. For two days, we held her down and used a wide gauge syringe to shove clinical care food thinned with water. She ate again, but not as much... and that was how things continued. She didn't eat as much or with the same gusto after that. We took her to the vet for followups. More bloodwork. An ultrasound showed some kind of splotch on her liver and maybe her GI tract, but not enough to draw clinical conclusions. We didn't want to do any testing that would compromise her quality of life. We knew this going in. She was 16. That's way old for a cat. But the eating came and went - some days she'd eat, other days not at all. She started peeing on things inappropriately. We went through a gallon of Nature's Miracle and washed the blankets and sheets. We moved one of her litterboxes into the living room and that cut down on things for a while, but then it didn't. She'd pee on blankets on the couch, even if they were folded on the back of the couch. I wasn't reacting well to this - especially if we're about to go to bed after a long day of worrying about her, what to do, and there's cat pee on the blanket for the 5th time at an unpredictable recurrence. We went to Japan in March. We walked our pet sitter through what steps should be taken if things got bad, or if she took a turn. We left details on what to ask the vet to do with her earthly remains. Every day the pet sitter showed us pictures of her food dish - and she was eating. Not all of it every day, but she was eating. Two weeks on the vacation of a lifetime and I thought maybe she'd be bouncing back. We came home to a bedroom turned into a litterbox. Four or five different pee spots on the blankets, all the way through to the sheets. If we didn't have mattress protectors, it'd have gone to the mattress - but those protectors were put on only after the peeing started months earlier. Three or four poops on the bed. Puke in the bedroom. Another vet visit was scheduled. An average cat's ALT is something like 110 - in September it was 115, in October during the crisis it was 120something. In March, it was in the 700s. She returned to not wanting to eat her usual favorite food. She was always picky and would only eat one or two foods - now she wanted neither. I tried permutation after permutation of food type, ingredients. High-quality stuff from the specialty pet store. Consumer stuff from Petsmart. Freeze-dried foods. Cooking chicken for the unseasoned broth and using it to hydrate the freeze-dried food. In the end, all she'd eat is a little bit of cooked chicken. Even just now, as a literal last gasp, she won't eat chicken that has cat nutrient powder mixed into it, hydrated with chicken broth. The peeing accidents happened so often. Her weight kept dropping. She's acting normally in so many ways - she still wants to be with me, she still wants to come and cuddle with me, but the lack of a clinical smoking gun in the face of this poor cat who's growing skinnier and skinner, who is too sickly to be put under anesthesia for a biopsy, who has conditions that if detected by a liver aspiration couldn't be cured, has peed on the blanket so many times that it's driven me into a months-long process of suffering. My wife has been having a rough go of it too, but it took so many nervous breakdowns - so much of me shouting, being unable to cope with the fact that we don't have bedding to sleep on tonight again, that in the end I broke down fully and I said to her, the woman I love so much and treasure, the words no spouse should ever, EVER say - "I hope you're happy with this" and "it's her or me." It's come from the wrongest possible way. We've been crying a lot. I've been trying to salvage what's left of my coping skills. She's trying to come to terms with the fact that we can do nothing, and we risk her suffering like Ceci. We are putting her to sleep before it gets worse, thinking that she's got some form of dementia - the litter box issues - which may also be digestive (her distaste for food, the gagging when sniffing food, everything else) and also some form of liver failure. All the info we have points to this being her time - but having no singular clear thing, that's been the worst. I couldn't cope. I couldn't get over the looming, constant worry that's lasted since October 2022 - which still stems from the sudden, tragic, traumatic, painful and horrible loss of Cecilia in August 2022. I simply can't recall what life felt like before then - the trip to Japan took me out of my element, took me away from it all. It was wonderful. I felt like a person. Then I came back home to a peed-on, pooped-on bed and a stark reminder of "your cat is dying and if you don't take unilateral action to euthanize her, overriding your wife's hopes and concerns, you will suffer for an indeterminate, ongoing period of time, all the while Freddie is restricted to the upstairs, not allowed to explore the home that he was adopted into. You, MJP, and you alone, have the burden of caring for this sick, peeing cat. Get used to it. Get used to this horrible place. There is no relief for her or you." Eight times, I had a breakdown based on Taters peeing on something critical. Eight times my wife was getting worried. Eight times I brought it up to my therapist and psychiatrist. The seventh time, I asked my psychiatrist for a short term as-needed scrip for benzos - the anxiety and concern were just so omnipresent, I couldn't function. I literally had to turn to drugs - yeah, prescribed and taken properly, but still drugs - in order to get out of the worst of it. Finally, in the one explosion, my wife started to agree. We invited my SIL and her husband over to say their farewells, and it took them to say she really didn't look good to drive the fact home. We are reconciling. I am seeking better medication management for future occurrences of these breakdowns. I've had them plenty of times in my life, but only during this ongoing crisis did they merit this kind of change and attention. But merit they do, and I have grief to add to the need to fix my poo poo. And grieving, we are. She's banned from the bedroom at night so we can at least sleep and wake up without cat pee on the sheets. Last night, I lay down on the couch, and she jumped up to sit on my chest, like she'd always do. Last night was among the last times she'll ever do that. Earlier this AM she did as well, and I'll give her the same time tonight and tomorrow morning. She's been in the sunroom all day. She loves it in here. Tomorrow in the sunroom, I'll feed her some chicken, and the vet will come in to at least not startle her. Maybe she'll jump into my lap, but I'll give her skritches as she gets an injection to sedate her, to feel no pain, and another injection to end her life peacefully. I'm going to cry again - I've been doing that a lot the last few days, weeks, months - and for the first time in my adult life, I'll have to face the fact that Taters won't be here anymore. This long, horrible series of months when the life with cats I loved was denied - through death, illness, failed integration, and long decline - will end. Taters won't get worse - we don't know if she's in pain and suffering, but we know she won't get to that point. I have been telling myself "it's premature to put her down now, she's just having eating problems" but it's been so apparent, and I just can't do it anymore. I've been pushed to the point where I simply cannot cope, and it's been the right time for a while. Only now do I have my wife with me on it. The circumstances are not how a family should approach this, but it's still the right call. I'm going to miss her so, so, so much. We'll be ready to give our love to another cat when the time is right. We'll let Freddie down from upstairs - he'll finally have all the time he wants in his new home, where he'll be loved for the rest of his days, and with a new friend when the time is right. I don't know how I could have gotten through the last 15 years of my own life, let alone life in this world, without Taters. Without this loving tortie baby, who purred and squeaked and curled up on my chest and lap. I'm going to miss the hell out of her tomorrow, and I'm going to have to work on how I got to this point - but she won't be in pain or confusion anymore.  Thanks for reading if you did, and my apologies for the wall of text if you didn't. I was at least able to get it all out and for that I'm grateful.
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May 8, 2023 21:25
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Our family cat, Puppets, had to go today. He was 21 years old. He had a very long and fulfilling life as a cat both inside and outdoors. My father, who passed in 2007, also loved him and I hope somehow they’re together again now. My condolences to everyone in the thread. These animals were all very lucky to have been loved by all of you. SeANMcBAY fucked around with this message at 03:57 on May 19, 2023 |
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May 19, 2023 03:50
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My sweet little dog Darla went on ahead of me today. She was actually the reason I signed up for these dead gay forums. I love her more than anything else in the world.  Goodbye my little wolf. I'll see you soon.  
Flesh Forge fucked around with this message at 18:42 on May 22, 2023 |
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May 22, 2023 17:26
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Today my wife and I took our cat Tsunami to the vet to cross over the Rainbow Bridge. 18.5 years he was in out lives. He was ornery at times, but most times he was down for a good snuggle or head / neck rubbing. He never missed snack or dinner time. He was treated twice a day for diabetes for the last two years and has been on a long slow decline. He even lost a canine fang along the way - don't know how or where it went. He wasn't able to jump up on the bed for the last year or so so and he had that old cat shuffle, but if you broke out the red laser pointer he was down for some play. Yesterday, he started having seizures and was generally immobilized in between the seizure episodes. He was in pain. Still processing..
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Jun 1, 2023 01:10
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My cat Brita passed away on June 13th. She was diagnosed with intestinal cancer in December and was doing fine most of the time until her last week, despite treatment. She was around 11 years old. Slept in the couch with her on the eve and made her as comfortable as possible. She originally belonged to a friend and I was taking care of her at my place while she was travelling abroad for a few months. Eventually she asked if I wanted to keep her back in 2019 and I did. She was a wonderful tuxedo and got heaps of love.     
Negostrike fucked around with this message at 14:55 on Jul 4, 2023 |
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Jul 4, 2023 14:53
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Hazo posted:Last Sunday night my wife’s (our) beloved 12-year-old black lab Henry started retching and crying uncontrollably so we had to take him to the emergency room around midnight and weren’t sure he was coming home. He was diagnosed with pneumonia in one of his lungs and given an IV and a schedule of antibiotics. Six hours and $1000 later we returned. Last week, about a month after I cheerfully posted this in the GBS Egg Thread, Henry started coughing again, and we made another emergency room visit.  He was very good at tilting his head to listen, and he loved to hear what you had to say, like "soon," "grandma," "treats," and "outside."  He also loved singing. Probably the half-German Shepherd part of him (he let us read to him his DNA results from Embark) https://imgur.com/KRiUTjt But He developed pneumonia in the other lung. We tried another round of intravenous fluids and antibiotics, but this time they simply did not work. We camped out on the couch with him that night, hoping he would stand back up. He didn't. He struggled to breathe, and my wife promised him we wouldn't let him hurt any more.  This is a photo of him being cuddled on his last morning. We picked up his ashes today. I never ever want to do this again.
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Jul 17, 2023 22:11
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What a good friend. You were lucky to have found each other.
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Jul 17, 2023 22:22
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Hazo posted:Last week, about a month after I cheerfully posted this in the GBS Egg Thread  Truly though, my condolences. The photo of him and your wife is heart breaking and the love there is palpable. He was lucky to have you both, and vice versa.
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Jul 22, 2023 03:20
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 The coolest dog, RIP Not even 6 years old, I'll spare the details, but got an infection from a animal bite that came into our yard and couldn't recover. she was beautiful 
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Aug 19, 2023 20:04
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My parents had to put their (mostly Lab) 14 year old Labradoodle Jude to sleep this morning. It was a tough decision because despite more than a few health issues Jude was still as perky as his age allowed him to be, he never skipped a meal and even if his hind legs couldn't take him very far he always wanted to go. Unfortunately a couple of weeks ago Jude had a nose bleed and an X-ray found a cancer in his nose that was clearly progressing. Parents hoped it would be a bit slower than it turned out but this morning he had a even bigger nosebleed than the first. Thankfully that stopped on its own but only after a scarily long time and a lot of towels. At the very least it allowed any panic to subside and Jude could calm down and get cleaned up. Me and my brother - we knew Jude quite well too - met them at the vet and it was decided that despite his personality his best days were very near their end. The last thing we wanted to happen was another nosebleed to happen, and another was going to happen, in the middle of the night and that time it didn't stop. The vet had a jar full of treats and we all got to give him a bunch before he left. Happy days (pictures via my mom): Watching the driveway get rebuilt during a reno  Where did you get that its too big  Tuckered out  Snow! Attack!  Okay I guess this snow is cool  He was a gentle and timid dog but not a scaredy cat, he let most things just happen around him, never too bothered by anything whether it was new people, new dogs, fireworks, construction, new surroundings, car rides, whatever, as long as he's fed. Good dog.
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Aug 19, 2023 21:36
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| # ? Apr 27, 2024 09:38 |
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Kibayasu posted:My parents had to put their (mostly Lab) 14 year old Labradoodle Jude to sleep this morning. It was a tough decision because despite more than a few health issues Jude was still as perky as his age allowed him to be, he never skipped a meal and even if his hind legs couldn't take him very far he always wanted to go. Unfortunately a couple of weeks ago Jude had a nose bleed and an X-ray found a cancer in his nose that was clearly progressing. Parents hoped it would be a bit slower than it turned out but this morning he had a even bigger nosebleed than the first. Thankfully that stopped on its own but only after a scarily long time and a lot of towels. At the very least it allowed any panic to subside and Jude could calm down and get cleaned up. Me and my brother - we knew Jude quite well too - met them at the vet and it was decided that despite his personality his best days were very near their end. The last thing we wanted to happen was another nosebleed to happen, and another was going to happen, in the middle of the night and that time it didn't stop. Jude had the most amazing eyebrows. I'm sorry for your loss. And Fozzy, I'm so sorry about your beautiful girl.
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Aug 21, 2023 21:14
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