queenwinniesmom

Wow, Barney's wounds have healed beautifully! You're right, you vet does a great job. I'm glad he's okay. Of course, it doesn't take away that fear. Sometimes an altercation can seem so random. When we had Nick and Buster, they got along great all the time, but once tore into each other because they were both eyeing an empty yogurt container! And they never had another fight after that. I hope it's smooth sailing at your house from now on!

Bonnie, you are an amazing little girl. And you are still in our prayers---and your Mom too!

Shelby, you know that you and Deuce are in my prayers. We love you, sweet boy!

Oh, God. Some things are just so hard to read---this is one of them. I'm just one of the many who have been encouraged by Bonnie's improvement, worried about those "bumps in the road", and filled with admiration for her brave spirit. I so wish that I had some magic words for you, Kristin. I guess all we can do is let you know that you and Bonnie are in our prayers.

Oh, no! We've had no power since Sunday, so I'm just seeing this, and went back and looked at your first thread. Bonnie, I'm so, so sorry you've gotten this devastating news about your precious Coby. How high in the shoulder is the tumor? Is it too high for amputation? I think someone had suggested contacting Dr. Couto at OSU---it never hurts to know all your options. I would say that if amputation is not indicated, and you are trying to keep him comfortable, it wouldn't hurt to start him on artemisinin too---it could slow things down. You could ask Dr. Couto about it. Whatever you do or decide, please know that we share your sadness, and you and Coby are in our prayers.

Oh my God. This is so heartbreaking. I'm crying because she was so young and had such a wonderful home to go to. And I'm crying for your enormous loss. I'm so sorry you've lost this precious little girl.

I'm so sorry you and Miles are going through this. I know it's stressful and sad to watch him decline. Such a helpless feeling, and we share that---wishing there was something more we could do. But know that lots of prayers and white light are going out to you. Please let us know how he's doing.

Oh, no. It's doubly hard when it's so sudden. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh, what a beautiful tribute. Thank-you for sharing this very special dog with us. I'm so sorry you lost your precious Marty.

Ii sounds like she filled those years with a lot of joy. I'm so sorry you lost your precious lady.

I'm so sorry for your loss of Dune. What Diane said is closest to the way I feel. From reading your post, to be honest, I'm not sure you're ready for another dog yet. I know you are grieving, and there is a huge emptiness right now. But remember that there is no time frame for that grief, and that what is right for one person is not necessarily right for someone else. There is no hurry if you are still questioning if it is right or not. I think your SO may not be ready either. If he fell in love with Dune, it may not be as easy for him to accept another dog, because it was Dune he loved, and not so much the breed itself. But if you can, go look at dogs (both of you)---you don't have to make a commitment if it doesn't feel right. I think a lot changes when you look into the eyes of another Grey who is waiting for a forever home---it puts things into perspective. It makes your heart open up a little, enough to feel that sadness and pain start to recede a bit. And like Diane said, you will know when you look into their eyes. I haven't really had a choice either. I truly believe, for many reasons, that the ones I lost sent me the dog they wanted me to have, the one that belonged here. That has usually happened between 2-6 months. But we lost Winnie in Oct. 2007, and she hasn't sent us anyone yet!

Oh, dear! I'm just seeing this now. Poor Misty---she's not having much fun at all. Hope Misty and Claudia can get through these next few days, and Misty keeps improving. Hang in there, sweet girl. Your Mom loves you! And so do we.

Ah, the beautiful little guy. I'm so sorry you lost your precious Buster.

Oh, Dee, now I'm crying too. I didn't know Rusty, but your love for him shines through in every word. What a stunningly beautiful boy he was! Your video brought more tears, but smiles as well, especially the pictures of him and his little Boston buddy. It's easy to see how happy he was, and that he was exactly where he was meant to be. I know how hard these anniversary days are. Time seems insignificant, and the pain is as fresh as if it were yesterday. But if you can remember him with all the joy that you brought to each other, I believe you will truly feel his spirit close to you today.

Oh, that is so tragic. It's doubly hard when it is unexpected, and adds another layer to your grief. I'm so sorry you lost your precious Susan.

Oh, that was a beautiful tribute. I'm so sorry you've lost your brave old gentleman King.

This is a topic that strikes a very emotional chord with everyone, though we are all different in the way we are able to handle this situation. Though some of us are able to be more philosophical (maybe not the right word), some of us will forever be tormented by the decision. While there are so many euphemisms that soften the reality of death, I personally feel that the word "killing" when used to describe ending the suffering of a beloved pet, only prolongs the pain of an act that is necessary. As Winterwish said, what if we did not have the ability to end that suffering? That said, I suppose the other question here is what constitutes suffering. I have believed for some time that I know what that is. Sometimes it is so visible and heartbreaking, the outer physical manifestation of age or disease or trauma such as an accident or injury. But I believe that the suffering that is not so phyically present can sometimes be just as real. Pain that is only recognized in the eyes or demeanor or actions; anguish, confusion, loss of joy or dignity, and just being too tired to go on. If we truly know and understand our pets, I feel this is something we can see, with our eyes, realistically, and with our hearts. They can't tell us with words, of course, and often we have to be guided by our own understanding of what is best. But sometimes I think that without speaking, they can let us know. The day that we put Winnie to sleep last year right before we went to Dewey, she looked at me, and as clearly as if she had spoken, told me she was so very tired, and that it was time. She was in advanced kidney failure, and we could have kept her with us longer with bags of fluids. She was such a tough old girl that I think she actually could have made it to Dewey, but it would have been more than bittersweet. It would have hugely compromised the last few days of her life, stolen her pride (to Winnie, a very real emotion) because she wouldn't have been able to do the things she wanted to do, and the attention she would have gotten would have been more from pity than admiration. I couldn't do that to her, and I don't regret I allowed her to leave us in the way she chose. Of course, the answers are not always that clear, and that is why it is so painful. I've made the decision many, many times, and each situation, like each animal, was unique. Though there are some that I miss as much today as I did years ago, the ones that bring more sadness are the ones when I know I waited too long. I truly feel that a day or even a week too soon, in the larger scheme of things, is not worth our pain or guilt when compared to years (or however long) of comfort, security, happiness, and love. They live in the moment, feeling that joy, knowing and appreciating what we are able to give them, and have no fear of the sadness that we know is coming. I may be able to put this in another perspective. On August 18th, my best friend died of breast cancer that metasticized in her liver and bones. She was so very sick, as her body began to shut down. In the last 3 weeks of her life, she knew she was dying, and we talked about this, the fear, the mystery, and finally, the resignation. She told me and her family that she did not want heroic measures to be taken---no machines, no tubes. She was able to communicate these wishes to us, and I would have felt terrible if these wishes had not been respected. And they were. She died with the dignity that she wanted and deserved. Is it really any different?

Audrey, it does my heart good to see this update. Of course, I just had a feeling that Asia would do well. It is a chance we take, not knowing what the outcome will be, but for you and Asia, it was absolutely the right decision. Your love for her shines through---so obvious that you are treasuring each day. And so is Asia!

Heather, throughout this journey, you and Dempsey have been together every step of the way. It has always been clear that his safety and well-being were primary in the plan. I guess at some point, we all know that our hearts will be broken, but that doesn't make the fight any less important. What you did for, and with, Dempsey, from the very beginning, and in the end, you did out of love and compassion for your brave boy. You know that in your heart, but it can't really stop the pain you are feeling now, or fill that emptyness. I'm so sorry you are hurting so much, and I wish we could do something to help you through this most difficult time. Please know that he is in your heart forever because of the love you shared---that bond is unbreakable. Sharing your sadness. "Make yourself familiar with the angels, and behold them frequently in spirit, for without being seen, they are present with you."

You may find that the back leg is a little easier than the front leg---I think people have said that. Winnie had the same leg amputated, and she went up and down 23 steps every day. I'm so glad Caesar is back home, and will be hoping that he heals quickly. Hang in there, and please let us know how he's doing.

Oh, Shelby, waiting is the pits! You and your precious boy will be in my prayers.

This is heartbreaking. I'm so sorry you and your precious Dee didn't have more time together.

Thanks for letting us know the surgery went well. I think we were starting to worry that no news was NOT good news. So glad that he will be home soon so you can spoil him. Continued good thoughts for an uneventful recovery.

Oh, Heather, I'm crying for you because I know how much you love him, and how hard both of you have fought. You know, you and Dempsey are 2 of my heroes. I'm so, so sorry you lost your precious boy.

Ah, Liz... I just saw this, so you're probably at the vets. Whatever happens, you and Nimby are in my prayers. Lots of hugs going out to you.