Condolences to Crunch and family.

After losing our last dog, we waited a couple of years.

Found a Heinz 57 on Craigslist. What a smart, sweet, little loving fellow we found.:t

 

Condolences.

Having to make that choice is so hard, who are we to decide when it's time?

Both my boxers were happy despite declining health, right until the end. I would never have let them suffer. Don't know if I can go thru that again, though.

 

We lose a piece of our heart with every one of them.

 

Amen.

 

You really miss them when you go to call them or look from them and their not there.

 

My wife rescues dogs from puppy mills so they've got some miles on them when she gets'em.
But she loves'em still, even with their vet problems and expense.
She's had five over the years and we both cry when they die.

 

Sorry about the news

Just give thanks to the Maker of the dogs and be thankful for the hookup and all the years of wonderful companionship, like nothing else compares, hopefully we'll run the fields together again for all eternity.
He knows what they mean to us, He gave them to us 'for His pleasure' it says, and in time heals the absence.

I been there many times and this is whats worked for me...trust for you and yours as well:t

We lost a big one ~8 yrs ago...Told the wife no more..the dogs are fed now
First few years there wasn't a month that didn't go buy that we didn't entertain dog ownership again; me and the wife would console both knowing and say...'Bondage'

Just running out of time to get another and then it would be just more Bondage


pipestone....................................:dogrun:

 

Frank -

Sorry. I know it is painful.

James

 

Frank, it’s rough loosing a pet and though you feel a lot of sarrow at first we as humans have been given the ability’s to replace our sparrows with fond memories.

 

The last thing I remember is My Person bringing me to the Sharp Place.

I never understood why My Person would bring me to the Sharp Place. The smells were sharp, and they poked me with sharp things. That's why I called it the Sharp Place. It was a bad place. I didn't like it.

I don't know why My Person brought me there, that day of all days. I already hadn't been feeling good. I'd been throwing up, and my hips hurt and my paws hurt. Even eating grass didn't help. And then My Person brought me to the Sharp Place. I tried to be mad at him, but he seemed so sad about something, so I tried to wag my tail to cheer him up. I didn't even really notice when the Sharp Man poked me.

Then my eyes got heavy and that was the last thing I remember.

Buddy, a voice said. Buddy, wake up.

I opened my eyes and got to my feet, and I realized my paws didn't hurt anymore. I tried a wag, and that was fine, too. I sniffed the air. It smelled like the Play Park and like Our Home and the Car Window. I liked it a lot.

Welcome, Buddy, came the voice again, from behind me.

I turned around, and there was a person there. He wasn't My Person, but he was all safe and good smells, so I trusted him.

Where am I? I said.

You're in the place that Good Boys go, the person said.

I was a Good Boy? I said.

You were a Very Good Boy, he told me.

That was good. I always tried to be a Good Boy. Where's My Person? I asked.

He's still down there, the person said. And he waved his arm and all of a sudden we were in Our Home, and My Person was sitting on the Forbidden Chair and looking sad. Every so often, he'd look over at the Okay Couch, where I was allowed to sit, and his breath would catch because he was very sad. I tried to nuzzle him, but my nose just passed through his hand.

What's happening? I don't understand, I said.

The person sighed. You can't be with him right now, Buddy. I'm sorry. It's the way of things.

I thought about this. So it's like My Person is on the Person Bed, and I'm not allowed there? I said.

Exactly like that, the person said. But he can be with you someday. If you choose to wait for him.

Of course I want to wait for him! I said. Not wait for My Person? Who did this person think he was talking to?

Hold on, Buddy, the person said. He seemed sad about this for some reason. It's not that simple. You have a choice. He got down on one knee and he looked into my eyes. There are bad things in this world, Buddy. Very bad things.

Like Neighbor Cat?

So much worse than her, Buddy. He waved his hand, and I saw what he was talking about. He showed me dark things, that were like snakes and rats, only worse. Worse than the Sucking Machine. Worse than the Sharp Place. They smelled evil.

These are the things that want to hurt him, Buddy. They want to hurt everybody. So you can wait for him, or you can keep him safe. But if you choose to keep him safe, then you can't see him again.

What, never? I said.

The person nodded. Never, Buddy. I'm sorry. Those are the Rules. It's a terrible choice.

I looked at my paws. I didn't want to not see My Person ever again. But I wanted to keep him safe even more.

I know what I have to do, I said, and the person waved his hand, and all of a sudden we were in a place with there were as many dogs as I have every seen before. More, even.

These are all the Good Boys who chose to keep Their People safe, the person said.

I looked at them all. I couldn't believe it, still. But there's so many of us! I said. How many Good Boys are here?

The person looked down at me. He smiled, but I could tell he was also partly very sad. All of you, Buddy. Every single one.


Sorry for your loss Frank, and to all others who have lost their furry friends.


R

 

After reading that, I had to go hug my Heinz 57!

 

I had to put mine down on Feb 1. She was the smartest most obedient dog I ever had, and loving. I've been through this many times in my life and felt deep emotional pain . But there was physical pain with this one. I feel like I got kicked in the chest. I never thought I'd ever say never to another dog. But I don't think I have it in me . Ive never been this sad in my life. Sorry for your losses to all .

 

Frank, my condolences. My pets have always been members of my family, and when you lose a family member, it hurts. My Vizsla, Ruby, was a knucklehead - not the best dog I ever had, but my favorite. I shared a bond with her like no other animal I've ever known. At the Vet's advice, when she stopped eating and the tail stopped wagging, we knew it was time to make some hard choices. I took her to the vet, and blubbered like a child as she closed her eyes and breathed her last, but I'm glad I was with her in her final moments. A friend then gave me this poem - it helped:

There are various places in which a dog may be buried. Beneath a cherry tree, or an apple, or any flowering shrub of the garden, is an excellent place to bury a good dog. Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy summer, or gnawed at a flavorous bone, or lifted head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death. Yet it is a small matter, and it touches sentiment more than anything else.

For if the dog be well remembered, if sometimes he leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, questing, asking, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where that dog sleeps at long and at last. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees are roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pasture land, where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained, and nothing lost -- if memory lives. But there is one best place to bury a dog. One place that is best of all.

If you bury him in this spot, he will come to you when you call -- come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they should not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he is yours and he belongs there.

People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper pitched too fine for mere audition, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them then, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing.

The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.

Again, my condolences.

 

Why don't they live to be 100? It's not fair.

 

Sorry to hear of your loss Frank.

We lost our little girl last year, painful, but more than offset by the years of love and happiness she gave us:

 

'Ol Buck just gave us a scare. He's approaching 10 1/2 now and just got real sick but has bounced back well. Been a great dog, and he's still my fuzzy shadow, currently within arm's reach.

I know I'm going to be a mess when he goes, but we'll enjoy all the time we have together until then.

 

We lose a piece of our hearts, But they are bigger than they would’ve been . We have had our share of heartbreak, But the unconditional love is hard to resist. In the process of losing another, 15 year old Big Lucky, but wouldnt know how to live without a house full of dogs and cats and birds .