You may or may not care, but last night my beloved oldest doggie; Saria died.
She was a 9 year old mix of Swedish White Elk Hound and a Golden Retriever.
About a month ago she started throwing up, and dd not want any food so we took her to the vet who said she had uterus infection and gave us meds for it. I gave them to her, but to no avail. She'd be fine one day and have energy and appetite, but the next day she'd be throwing up so much that in the end there was nothing left but bile.
She deserved better then that, and by 8 last night she was shivering and her breathing was laboured and very very shallow, so in the end me and hubby and kiddo agreed that the best thing for her....
My pretty baby had to be put down.
I called the vet even tho it was past midnight, and explained things to her. Fortunately she came over quickly and we got to say goodbye to Saria at home, then she got one injection to make her sleep while i held her in my arms, and when she was sound asleep, she got the final one.
It only took a few minutes, maybe not even that and she stretched all over, then we had no more Saria.
She is in a better place, we had nine wonderful years together, and later today she will be buried in mom's garden, under her favourite tree, with her blue cuddle teddybear.
Aww! It's so sad when a beloved pet passes away.
Here's a puppy!
You have my deepest condolences. Most importantly, she slept knowing she was loved.
Thank you both, Koji, that poem was just what I needed, it made me smile even on such a bad day as this and I can't tell you how much it means to me.
So sorry for your loss, Crucent *hugs tight* I'm howling with you for Saria.
This poem holds such a lovely and comforting ... even joyful thought, Kojiyumi. I remember another of your words:
"Where do the spirits of wolves go?" ... "They run free."
Saria looks so beautiful on this photo, cute and miscievous and loving. *hug* Keep her in your heart and memory like this, Crucent. I see her waiting for you at the Rainbow Bridge just like this.
thank you Em *hugs back*
I'm just a mess today and I'm crying at the drop of a hat. Youngest doggie was so confused when we came home from burying Saria in moms Garden earlier today, she was whining and extremely contact-seking. I miss my pretty baby, but I know that we did what was best for her, and I do oddly find slight solace in that.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Crucent! *gives a tight hug*
I'm howling with you for Saria!
You have given Saria the last gift possible - a peaceful passing in your loving embrace.
It is not odd that you find solace in this knowledge. It is good this way - as are your tears. Let them run, cry for your beloved furry friend, mourn for her ... it will help you healing. And remember her with a smile and warm feeling in the time to come. *hugs*
I agree with Embala and koyami, dear Crucent. This is going to take some time, maybe a lot. Right now, just let it all out, cry for you little friend. It will help you heal, but remember the beautiful memories you had with her *hugs*
Your loss has me in tears. I'm so sorry to hear that you had to let her go. Sending you strength and love.
Thank you all, this means the world to me *hugs you all*
I know I did the right thing by her, but it hurts so bad that we had to do that, I really wish if I had one favour to ask the Gods, the Universe or anyone right now it would be that she never got ill to start with :/
*holding you tight*
I keep listening to Rammstein's "Ohne Dich" today, it suits me perfectly ;_;
I am sorry for your loss, and apologize for reading this new so late. Dog poems remind me of Rudyard Kipling, a dog-lover who wrote poems about the passing of man's best friend:
"THE POWER OF THE DOG"
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie --
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find -- it's your own affair --
But . . . you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit hat answered your every mood
Is gone -- wherever it goes -- for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept'em, the more do we grieve;
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long --
So why in -- Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
Master, this is Thy Servant. He is rising eight weeks old.
He is mainly Head and Tummy. His legs are uncontrolled.
But Thou hast forgiven his ugliness, and settled him on Thy knee...
Art Thou content with Thy Servant? He is very comfy with Thee.
Master, behold a Sinner! He hath committed a wrong.
He hath defiled Thy Premises through being kept in too long.
Wherefore his nose has been rubbed in the dirt and his self- respect has been bruised.
Master, pardon Thy Sinner, and see he is properly loosed.
Master, again Thy Sinner! This that was once Thy Shoe,
He has found and taken and carried aside, as fitting matter to chew.
Now there is neither blacking nor tongue, and the Housemaid has us in tow,
Master, remember Thy Servant is young, and tell her to let him go!
Master, extol Thy Servant, he has met a most Worthy Foe!
There has been fighting all over the Shop -- and into the Shop also!
Till cruel umbrellas parted the strife (or I might have been choking him yet),
But Thy Servant has had the Time of his Life -- and now shall we call on the vet?
Master, behold Thy Servant! Strange children came to play,
And because they fought to caress him, Thy Servant wentedst away.
But now that the Little Beasts have gone, he has returned to see
(Brushed -- with his Sunday collar on) what they left over from tea.
Master, pity Thy Servant! He is deaf and three parts blind.
He cannot catch Thy Commandments. He cannot read Thy Mind.
Oh, leave him not to his loneliness; nor make him that kitten's scorn.
He hath had no other God than Thee since the year that he was born.
Lord, look down on Thy Servant! Bad things have come to pass.
There is no heat in the midday sun, nor health in the wayside grass.
His bones are full of an old disease -- his torments run and increase.
Lord, make haste with Thy Lightnings and grant him a quick release!
"DINAH IN HEAVEN"
She did not know that she was dead
But, when the pang was o'er,
Sat down to wait her Master's tread
Upon the Golden Floor,
With ears full-cock and anxious eyes,
But ignorant that Paradise
Did not admit her kind.
There was one step along the Stair
That led to Heaven's Gate;
And, till she heard it, her affair
Was -- she explained -- to wait.
And she explained with flattened ear,
Bared lip and milky tooth--
Storming against Ithuriel's Spear
That only proved her truth!
Sudden -- far down the Bridge of Ghosts
That anxious spirits clomb--
She caught that step in all the hosts,
And knew that he had come.
She left them wondering what to do,
But not a doubt had she.
Swifter than her own squeal she flew
Across the Glassy Sea;
Flushing the Cherubs everywhere,
And skidding as she ran,
She refuged under Peter's Chair
And waited for her man.
There spoke a Spirit out of the press,
'Said: -- "Have you any here
That saved a fool from drunkenness,
And a coward from his fear?
"That turned a soul from dark to day
When other help was vain;
That snatched it from wan hope and made
A cur a man again?"
"Enter and look," said Peter then,
And set the Gate ajar.
"If I know aught of women and men
I trow she is not far."
"Neither by virtue, speech nor art
Nor hope of grace to win;
But godless innocence of heart
That never heard of sin:
"Neither by beauty nor belief
Nor white example shown.
Something a wanton -- more a thief --
But -- most of all -- mine own."
"Enter and look," said Peter then,
"And send you well to speed;
But, for all that I know of women and men
Your riddle is hard to read."
Then flew Dinah from under the Chair,
Into his arms she flew --
And licked his face from chin to hair
And Peter passed them through!
oh Trollbabe; those poems were wonderful ,and I'm crying like a baby now! *hugs* Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart.
I hope that the passing year has eased your grief. It's Father's Day, and I miss my old Daddy.
My condolences, Crucent. Losing a friend is never easy, and human or animal friend makes no difference. It's a hard Father's Day here as well, as I lost my dad last Juli. Thoughts with you both, Crucent and Trollbabe.