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(National Geographic)   Actual Headline: It's Hard to Send a Pet to Heaven. Better Headline: I am having a hard time being a douche today, isn't that weird?   (news.nationalgeographic.com) divider line 160
    More: Sad, pets  
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8766 clicks; posted to Main » on 04 Mar 2013 at 12:59 PM (1 year ago)   |  Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook   more»



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2013-03-04 08:44:17 PM
My family once had a cat who was very overweight. We knew she wasn't in great health (she didn't poop in the box and couldn't thoroughly groom herself) but we never took her to the vet on the grounds that it was "too expensive". I was always a little pissed about that, but I was kind of mean to her, too - giving her a good smack was the only way I knew how to move her from where she was sitting. Needless to say I felt pretty guilty when she turned up dead one day. She was lying in the floor as if she'd just collapsed mid-stride. We're pretty sure we had a heart attack, but (again, to my regret) we never had an autopsy done.
 
2013-03-04 08:45:38 PM
FARK! You guys are killing me! Can't sit here and read fark without blubbering like a little baby-child!

/3 tiger cats: my streak consists of: Molly the matriarch 13 yrs, C.C. (Carbon Copy) also known as The right hand and Doppleganger 12,  and finally Random Tiger Car aka Randy, the young, rash, risk taker, he is also fat and 2 yrs old.
// can't forget about Buddy the Dog, came to us in the middle of the winter. His collar was wrapped in half a roll of duct tape attached to a 6 inch D ring. He was less than 20 lbs and sick. He is now healthy and happy and my best friend for 3 years.
/// I'll die a little inside whe they each die. Like them better than most people
 
2013-03-04 08:51:45 PM

GreatPenguin: We're pretty sure she had a heart attack, but (again, to my regret) we never had an autopsy done.


FTFMe.
Go home GreatPenguin. You're drunk.
 
2013-03-04 09:26:21 PM

RatMaster999: [i182.photobucket.com image 720x540]

It's been about a month since this little guy passed in his sleep.  He wasn't quite so little at the time.  I'm still kicking myself that I didn't at least stick my fingers through the bars when I heard him getting a drink right after I'd gotten into bed.  He was a wonderful little snuggler.  Loved to sit in my lap or in my shirt while I was playing video games, or enjoy lots of petting when I was just watching TV.

This is the first time I've been ratless in almost a decade...

/dusty in here


Sorry about your loss. I've grown incredibly fond of rats in the last 5 years. I have a couple dogs now, but holding off on getting another rat. My last guy, Sherman (General Sherm, Sherm the Worm), was a blue dumbo and was such a bro. Potty trained and playful as all hell. The next one is gonna have tough competition so I'm in no rush.
 
2013-03-04 10:41:41 PM
From the times I've had to sit next to a dog as the barbiturate took effect, some observations:

* When it's time, do it. Don't make them suffer. Better to look back and think they still had a good quality of life when they passed, instead of begging for death.

* Keeping your sh-t together so you don't freak out your companion helps you keep your sh-t together.

* An injection of surgical anaesthesia is a quick and painless way to go.

* Look into private shelters / animal rights groups for cremation.

It's a bitter experience, but many people have gone through it.

Also, there are a lot of animals in tough situations out there. When one of your companions passes on, there's an appropriate mourning period. But life goes on. Maybe rescuing another one would be the best tribute to your friend.
 
2013-03-04 11:02:15 PM

Bane of Broone: RatMaster999: [i182.photobucket.com image 720x540]

It's been about a month since this little guy passed in his sleep.  He wasn't quite so little at the time.  I'm still kicking myself that I didn't at least stick my fingers through the bars when I heard him getting a drink right after I'd gotten into bed.  He was a wonderful little snuggler.  Loved to sit in my lap or in my shirt while I was playing video games, or enjoy lots of petting when I was just watching TV.

This is the first time I've been ratless in almost a decade...

/dusty in here

Sorry about your loss. I've grown incredibly fond of rats in the last 5 years. I have a couple dogs now, but holding off on getting another rat. My last guy, Sherman (General Sherm, Sherm the Worm), was a blue dumbo and was such a bro. Potty trained and playful as all hell. The next one is gonna have tough competition so I'm in no rush.


Thanks.  The only bad thing about having rats is their super short lifespans.  Sherman sounds like he was a good friend.  Though if you do decide to have another rat, I suggest getting two of them.  They're so socially inclined, being alone isn't the best for them.  They might get along with your dog, too, though, to some extent.

/wish I had the space for a dog
 
2013-03-05 03:06:07 AM

CarnySaur: Has anyone had a pet just "die in their sleep"?  I'd like for the decision to be taken out of my hands just once, instead of having to go through all that trauma.


I'd actually called the vet to make a house call and euthanize both of my most recent dogs, but they passed away in their sleep before the appointment day came, thank goodness. When it came time to bury them...I turned into a blubbering, inconsolable, screaming mass in the yard. It was bad enough in front of my family, but to turn into some emotional blob in front of the vet (even though I love my vet) was almost too much to even consider. I am not an emotional person generally, so it's all very foreign to me most days.

Paige died in 2009, was a 12 years old Australian Shepherd x Rottweiler mix we adopted from the pound. Died of metastatic liver cancer. Best guard dog ever made, yet she'd carry baby chicks in her mouth that got separated from the mother hens. She passed away overnight on our front porch on her favorite rug the morning before the vet was due to arrive.

Our second dog Maia died last May, she was a 13 year old Rottweiler x Black Lab mix, also a pound dog. She was an 80lb lap dog, or so she thought. She had a bad reaction to her last rabies vaccination which caused her to develop a high fever which resolved but left lingering and lasting neurological issues. She couldn't walk without looking like she was on a ship rocking in a storm, she couldn't control her bowels/bladder, she couldn't eat on her own very well. She was still in there and you could see her getting frustrated when she'd fall over outside and couldn't get back on her feet and the look of resignation in her eyes when you'd have to help her stand up. After suffering for a year and getting worse with seizures that left her debilitated for long periods of time, we decided it was time to call the vet. I called and made an appointment for the next Monday, we'd say our goodbyes over the weekend. Over the weekend however she had a rare good day, she was for lack of a better word, normal. I'd gotten home from running errands in town and shared with her half of my sandwich while we sat out in the spring sun and I planted flowerpots. I went inside to do some dishes and came back out to the garage and she had passed away curled up in her bed. I sat on the garage floor in her bed holding her and being a blubbering mess till my husband got home and he joined me.

Thanks to faulty ovaries I am incapable of having children, so I guess I make up for it with my pets, they fill that void for me. For weeks after Maia passed away, I found myself taking a scoop of food to the garage for her...calling her when I'd call for our newest dog. Or finding her collar on the pegs in the mud room and breaking down.

I couldn't even make it through that article without it being in the middle of a dust storm in here. :(
 
2013-03-05 08:30:02 AM
just shoot the bastard
 
2013-03-05 10:32:36 AM
I'm really going to be in the shiat when my fiance's parrot dies.  He's about 3 now and super cute and companionable, and he should stay that way for the next 20 years before he starts to go downhill.  She loves him at least as much as me, I can only imagine how farking wrecked she'll be when he passes away.  I get up and offer him greetings every morning, and when he comes out of his cage and wants to climb up on my shoulder I always tell him, "All aboard the dad train!  Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga... PEEP PEEP."  He usually does the last part with me.  It will literally be like we had a child die in their mid twenties.
 
2013-03-05 10:43:32 AM
I've always hated having pets, simply for this reason.  They don't last forever, and the pain generated by their loss, and your guilt at "pulling the plug" whether it might have been too soon, or even too late,  or perhaps "missing" symptoms that led to their demise, can last with you for, at least seemingly, the rest of your life.  To me, that severely outweighs the good times you have with them.

Every now and then, I'm reminded of their final trips to the vet, or of finding one of them after he had vomited all over the house, and choked to death with his bulging eyes and his claws buried in the baseboards after what seemed likely to have been about a half-hour's worth of suffering.  I feel that pain anew, and my eyes mist over every single time I think of any of them.

I now have two cats and a dog, and one-by-one, they'll be gone in (in a best case scenario) some heartwrenching scenario where I'll likely have to condemn them to death due to not having the significant funds required to sustain their lives as things begin failing due to old age, or some other health concern.  One cat (whose sister recently died) is clearly nearing that stage himself, and I have to relate that with a cat who follows me around, hops into my lap, and seemingly wants nothing more than to rub his face against my chin and head, and then sleep on me.

I have only ever purchased an animal once, who had to be put to sleep a year ago due to a complication caused by an abscessed tooth, and resultant brain damage caused by seemingly improper costly treatment attempts whose prices almost made me lose my apartment.  The rest I've had foisted onto me by well meaning people who wanted pets for themselves and/or who thought I should have a cat because I love cats.

It's not "if" but "when" and the kindest thing my parents ever did for me was put down the family pets over the years without letting me know it was coming.  At one point, they felt I was old enough to go to the vet to participate, with one of the cats that were always known as my cat... the cat who seemingly detested and despised every human being but me. They were trying to hold her down on the table, and she was squirming around.. the only way to calm her was to crouch and get to her eye-level. It was over 25 years ago, and I'm openly crying right now as I remember seeing that trust in her eyes, and seeing her relax ahead of the shot that would end her life, and then finally seeing the life drain from those huge orbs of black circled by gold as she began to stare into oblivion.

I've dug many holes at my parents house, and vividly recall shoveling dirt down on the family dog, with whom we'd made the mistake of placing his collar on his shrouded form, and the shovelfuls of dirt rang the collar with what had been the dog's distinctive sound whenever he was excited to see you come home from school. The other mistake in that burial, which took me longer than I thought possible to get over, was that the dog's favorite blanket wasn't buried with him.

These are the horrors I think of whenever their name is mentioned, or I remember anything about them or their antics.. it always leads to their endings.  I don't want more pets.
 
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