OT: Burying a Pet Sucks

[TaleofTwoDogs]

I came home from a business trip in Brazil and walked into my house and noticed my 14 yr old dog on the back porch was very still and I knew something was wrong. I yelled to my wife to get the car ready and I scooped up my dog and we went to the 24 hour clinic and dashed inside demanding some help. A vet ran up and looked at my dog and she told me that my dog had been dead for several hours. In my panic and grief and my fatigue from the international flight I didn't realized my beloved dog was gone. I still feel guilt from being out of town during that time.

 

[biscuit.sixpack]

I don't have children but my pets have been my kids. Two sweet bulldogs and a crazy lab over the last 25 years have broken my heart to this day. It sucks

 

[Palos verdes]

Pets are family members. I saw my dog get runover..the driver never stopped. I was so enraged that I chased the dude on foot down the street. I might have killed him. I remember looking out for that vehicle for about a year, before I finally reconciled the matter.

 

[Vetdawg32]

Lots of wonderful and beautiful stories in this thread. Working as a veterinarian, it's always so hard when the time comes to have to put down someone's beloved companion.

Just this past Wednesday, I had to put down my lab of 12 years. He was the best damn dog I've ever had. I cried like a baby all day. I get attached to my patients and get emotional when the time comes to have to let them go, but the water works were flowing when I had to do it to my own.

 

[StillTbonewannabe]

Our family's dog died about 7 years ago. I had him cremated and we keep his ashes in our den.
I knew we would move one day and I wanted him to always be with us.
Silly? I guess so.

I wish I had done it when my dog passed. In the moment I couldn't stand the thought of his body burning and I couldn't leave him. I felt like I had to take him home and now I moved and hate the thought of him being there.

 

[MeridianDog]

OK I managed to make it through this thread, which is just about the worst (most painful) thread ever started on this site. Since I read all of your posts, I will make you read mine. His name was Pete and he was a yellow Lab. We got him from death row at a shelter in Tuscaloosa as a tiny pup, the day before they had scheduled him to be put down. I always said that he was such a happy dog because he had no choice, since his death sentence was reprieved by a perfect (he though so) stranger.

Pete could climb any chain link fence ever constructed. He could walk through the strongest shock collar fences ever developed. When the town dogs came by our house, he would do whatever he had to do to get out and go with them. Then when meal time came, he was back at the back door, seemingly unaware of what he had done to upset anyone. He was the happiest mess anyone ever knew and we loved him. He loved the Mormon Missionaries who came by. He loved the Jehovahs who came by. He loved the PoPo men who knew him and would bring him back when he got out. Maybe his favorite person in the world outside of us was his vet. When we had guests, he figured they had come to see him alone and was overjoyed. He loved to ride in the back of my truck and so we would go for a bark and a ride. When the truck started moving, he would start barking and would run from one side of the back of the truck to the other, barking non stop until we got back from the ride.

I decided on day he needed some greens in his diet and put some lettuce in his food. He took a big mouthful and then got the strangest look, turned his head and spit it out on the ground, then proceeded to sort the food from the lettuce. When he finished, all of the food was gone and all of the lettuce remained on the ground around his food bowl.

I buried him on the back of a field where he liked to visit for a run, got back into the truck and told my wife, "He is the last. I can't do this again." I have stayed true to my word. I can pet someone else's pup, bend over and scratch a strange dog behind his ear. I can't bury another dog. It just hurts too much.

Thanks for listening

 

[tired]

OK I managed to make it through this thread, which is just about the worst (most painful) thread ever started on this site. Since I read all of your posts, I will make you read mine. His name was Pete and he was a yellow Lab. We got him from death row at a shelter in Tuscaloosa as a tiny pup, the day before they had scheduled him to be put down. I always said that he was such a happy dog because he had no choice, since his death sentence was reprieved by a perfect (he though so) stranger.

Pete could climb any chain link fence ever constructed. He could walk through the strongest shock collar fences ever developed. When the town dogs came by our house, he would do whatever he had to do to get out and go with them. Then when meal time came, he was back at the back door, seemingly unaware of what he had done to upset anyone. He was the happiest mess anyone ever knew and we loved him. He loved the Mormon Missionaries who came by. He loved the Jehovahs who came by. He loved the PoPo men who knew him and would bring him back when he got out. Maybe his favorite person in the world outside of us was his vet. When we had guests, he figured they had come to see him alone and was overjoyed. He loved to ride in the back of my truck and so we would go for a bark and a ride. When the truck started moving, he would start barking and would run from one side of the back of the truck to the other, barking non stop until we got back from the ride.

I decided on day he needed some greens in his diet and put some lettuce in his food. He took a big mouthful and then got the strangest look, turned his head and spit it out on the ground, then proceeded to sort the food from the lettuce. When he finished, all of the food was gone and all of the lettuce remained on the ground around his food bowl.

I buried him on the back of a field where he liked to visit for a run, got back into the truck and told my wife, "He is the last. I can't do this again." I have stayed true to my word. I can pet someone else's pup, bend over and scratch a strange dog behind his ear. I can't bury another dog. It just hurts too much.

Thanks for listening

I've read this 3 times. What happened to him??

 

[Dawg1976]

I understand. I was teary eyed the whole time I buried my old golden retriever. But another way to look at it....is when your beloved dog is gone that does open up a possible home for a dog in a shelter who needs a one. That's the way I looked at it when I adopted my current one. Yes.....I will have my heart broken again one day but it's worth it over all to me. Not trying to make you feel guilty about not getting another one. I understand. Just another perspective.

 

[MeridianDog]

He climbed the fence, was walking down the middle of a main street in our small town and got hit by a car, that swerved over to hit him. A neighbor saw it all happen, scooped him up and carried him to the vet. I got there before he died, but he didn't make it. It may have hurt my friend the vet more then me, then later as I buried him I got my share of grief. Bad day.

 

[VillagepeopleDogs]

One thing that helps me is 'A Dog's Prayer' by Beth Norman Harris. Cat or Dog, it really don't matter. I keep it pinned to the wall right beside my computer screen and read it frequently. Makes me teary eyed every time but helps me take comfort that I did the right thing.

 

[1msucub]

It is BY FAR the worst part of the job... every owner handles it differently. I've had people roll around on the floor screaming, military guys fight tears as if their lives depended on it, and one lady broadcast it on her phone to her daughter overseas. Grief is a layered, dynamic emotion for sure.
Horses are easily the most traumatic due to the size and power of the animal you're dealing with... those are just no good for anybody.
Sorry for your losses, friends.

 

[jdbulldog]

Lots of wonderful and beautiful stories in this thread. Working as a veterinarian, it's always so hard when the time comes to have to put down someone's beloved companion.

Just this past Wednesday, I had to put down my lab of 12 years. He was the best damn dog I've ever had. I cried like a baby all day. I get attached to my patients and get emotional when the time comes to have to let them go, but the water works were flowing when I had to do it to my own.

I have no clue who you are , but my vet and you sound just alike. Over all our years he has put down 3 of our precious pets. Each time he has sent a donation to the MSU vet school in memory of our pet. The vet school always sends us a card. In turn, we then send a donation to the vet school in our vet's name. He is an awesome person.

 

[jdbulldog]

My sympathies to you...it is a somber, mournful time of life.

 

[Dawgbite]

Ten years ago (February 8, 2007), my cat Toonces died. She first wandered into my trailer in Woolmarket, MS in November, 1990. She wouldn't go away, so I started feeding her. After asking around (to make sure it wasn't anybody else's cat), I went down and got her spayed. She would attack my feet at 2 AM if they were moving around under the sheets. We'd have vicious "fights to the death" with her scratching up my hands and arms. She would come when you called like a dog.

She was my cat for 16 years- through being single, meeting and marrying Swandawg 69, my four kids, and moving on up in the world. We buried her on the land we owned at the time in the country outside Byram.

It's like Mr. Bojangles- After 10 years I still grieve.

Toonces lives! Last spring we had a wild black cat that my wife had semi tamed ten years previous put to sleep on a Saturday morning. That night we attend a car cruise/ car show in my old Jeep. When we return home at a top speed of 53 miles per hour, we are passed by several sheriff, highway patrol, ambulance, and fire department vehicles. We know something bad has happened and as we top a hill approaching our driveway, they are all in my drive. My drive is 1/4 mile long and they are at the road so I know the house isn't on fire. A suburban had left the road and flipped 4 times into the field in front of my house, no nobody died but both riders went to the hospital.
Sunday morning I hop on the Ranger and ride back down to the road and start picking up glass and car parts out of the field and look down at this tiny gray kitten circling my ankles. I finish picking up the debris and pick the cat up and sit it on the Ranger seat, as we drive back to the house the cat hops in my lap and puts its paws on the steering wheel like it's driving. We live in the country with only 2-3 neighbors within a mile, nobody claims the cat. I drive up to the patio where my wife is having coffee and present her with Toonces the driving cat. It's grown into a huge Maine Coon, we figure it must have hitched a ride on one of the emergency vehicles that came to the wreck.

 

[xxxWalkTheDawg]

It does suck

But I always take consolation in the fact that it had a great life. My dog never went hungry, never had to struggle to keep warm, never had to tolerate the heat, never went without help when he was hurt, was taught everything he knows with patient guidance and praise, always got his spot on his back scratched to the point he was convulsing, and had constant love. Many dogs are not that lucky. The only time he felt betrayed was during bath time, nail trimming, and teeth brushing.

The the only thing I ever got in return was a happy companion and love back. I always call it even hell, I may be the one a little short on the deal

My dogs sleep at the foot of the bed and many times I wake up and I'm sharing a pillow with him. I'm also lucky to have a wife that enjoys our dogs as much as I do.

 

[Hoover Dawg]

I'm with you.

 

[billsimmonds]

These stories are killing me. I haven't lost a pet since I was a kid, but I know in a few years I'll have to deal with it. I'm not sure if many of you remember me, but I used to do a lot of photography for the athletic dept and occasionally posted some of the photos here.

I've got two Weimaraners, Cosmo(8) and Chaos(5), and I dread the day that they are gone. I got them both as 8 week old puppies. After I stopped doing work for the athletic dept I needed something to take photos of, so those two clowns got their own Instagram account.... @cosmo_and_chaos if you're interested. Kinda stupid but whatever... I did it just as a way to post photos for a few people to see, and as a creative outlet I guess, but in a little over a year they've accumulated over 8k followers.

Cosmo is a 100 lb lapdog who eats everything in sight....literally. I can't leave any food in the kitchen less than six feet off the ground, and he can clean out a garden in no time....He picks and shucks his own corn and eats it off the cob...he eats cantaloupes and watermelons whole...loves pumpkins and cucumbers...and he can devastate a row of tomato vines in seconds. He even digs up his own sweet potatoes. He loves veggies almost as much as steak. Carrots, green beans, kiwi, bananas, apples and cheeeburgers are a few more things he'll tackle you for...he'll eat anything. The list is endless. I haven't had the last bite of a sandwich in 8 years. I used to worry about him eating all this stuff, but I couldn't ever break him of it....so I just do my best to keep him away from anything I know is toxic for him. Eventually I realized that he's the canine equivalent of an industrial grade garbage disposal. I'm convinced I could feed him nuclear waste for dinner and the next morning he'd wake up just like any other day and ask if there was any more of it for breakfast.

Chaos lives up to his name as he is a 70 lb tornado on four legs, and follows Cosmo everywhere, and eats everything Cosmo eats....including the deer carcasses that they find with surprising frequency. He's the most graceful and athletic dog I've ever seen...and possibly the most annoying.

They are hardheaded and only listen when they want to, but they are loyal and love every person and dog that they meet. We go out daily just so they can socialize and burn off some energy. I'm 100% sure that Cosmo has more human friends than I do...

Now that I have time, we spend a lot of weekends backpacking and camping, and it's their favorite activity by far. After I carried a week's worth of dog food on a backpacking trip once, I decided that was ridiculous, so they got their own packs and carry all of their food and most of mine. When they see the tent and their packs getting pulled out and loaded up they lose their minds.

The day I lose one of them is the day that I'll start looking for another one. That's the only way I'll be able to deal with it.

 

[MaxwellSmart]

It's never easy. I've been through it several times in my 50+ years and when my 9 year old lab's time comes, I'll be a basket case for sure. It's amazing how they can become such an irreplaceable part of your life.

 

[VillagepeopleDogs]

I'm 61 y/o. I have had a dog or dogs for as long back as I can remember(around 4). Even had one in college. Have had 3 or 4 at one time during those years. When this last one is gone, I don't think I want another one. It's getting too painful to lose one as I get older. I thought it would get easier as I got older but it has not. (I'll probably change my mind when the time comes). Not sure what it would feel like not having a dog around.

 

[icouldjustpuke]

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[cowbell88]

Part of what makes a house a home, is having a pet(s) buried in the yard. Yeah, I cried when "Ol Yeller" died.

 

[Original48]

Also had a Toonces that lived to be 16. Tough when we lost her.