Abandoned Forum

[GoodGrief]

This Saturday at around about 1:45 PM, the vet arrived to put my dog down. Jen-jen was old and suffering, and we'd been talking about it for over a year, but it was oh-so-hard.
Some days she seemed all right, apart from being old and feeble, but some days she could barely stand up, her back legs dragged uselessly on the ground when she tried to walk, she lost control of her bladder.
The space in front of the kitchen door is stained yellow, but it's been her rightful place since she was a puppy and my sister's lovely young golden retriever has already usurped our attentions to the point where we really couldn't bear to deny her the dignity of the top spot, and I for one couldn't bear to see her hurt expression if she were to be chased away permanently. So there she stayed, and we took a wide step coming out of that door.
Sometimes my walks outside were curtailed when she started following me, despite being in obvious pain.
She smelled so bad that if you touched her the smell would not leave for hours without you scrubbing the skin off your hands, and her fur from her rump down was wet with her own piss. I always made sure to walk wide of her, and never patted her anymore. I felt guilty about that all the time, but the smell was overpowering. I did mutter 'good dog' occasionally as I passed her, but more often than not this made her follow me out of gratitude for being noticed, and I had to go inside so as to stop her paining herself any further.
It hasn't been easy for anyone. We all knew that the time was coming, was well past, but I live in college during the Semester and I wanted to be there to say goodbye. So this Friday as I came home for the weekend, right after delivering the news that Goosie (the Goose) had been taken by a fox, plunging her adopted son Fella (a peacock) into bewildered mourning, my mother told me that the vet was coming the following day, before lunch, to deliver my dog from misery.
He was late, and interrupted my lunch preparations, but I didn't hesitate to rush outside, then rush in again in search of shoes, plagued by irrational fears that they would have done the deed already if I didn't hurry.
I needn't have even bothered with shoes, because the deed was to take place on the verandah. My Dad and the vet were standing on the verandah looking at Jen as she staggered around in her usual fashion, the vet with his hands on his hips in a casual way, a needle clasped in one fist. For all that I'd known for months that this was coming, it just didn't seem 'real' until I saw him with that needle. I really felt like there was a shapeless lump of lead weighing down my stomach in that moment, so I can testify that it isn't just a colourful turn of phrase used in books.
Jen didn't really know what was happening, of course, which made the whole thing seem horribly deceptive, even if there was no way that we could possibly have made her understand.
I'd been vaguely worried that I hadn't cried up until then, but as I made my over to her for my final goodbye the tears came and continued unabated for most of the afternoon. I gave her a pat and a hesitant hug, which became a genuine if rather teary cuddle as the weight of what was about to happen hit me again, and has continued to hit me since. Even days after the event I still stop, stunned by the revelation that my dog is dead. It happens in much the same way it did for other life-changing events, like graduating from highschool. Suddenly something that has been a constant for most of your life is simply gone - Jen-jen had been a Christmas present for me when I was two-and-a-half. I clung to her - as gently as I could - and even rested my head against hers, and for all that she seemed to realise that I was distressed my sudden display of affection didn't seem to surprise her - even after so long, she took it all as her due.
When I let go my Dad suggested that I go inside. I made it as far as the door but determined to watch - I'd said I'd be there for her. When it was done I rushed inside and scrubbed hard and fast - not to take my mind off anything, but just so that I didn't have to stand around feeling helpless.
After that I went back out and stood around feeling helpless anyway, staring at her old body and murmuring "Goodbye, Jen" in a tiny voice until my Dad came back with the empty chook-feed sack in which he would bear her to her grave in the rainforest garden out near the orchard. To me the sack seemed curiously appropriate. Perhaps it was because it reminded me of my early childhood when Jen was a puppy - chook feed sacks, piles of dirt, anthills, bricks, old logs, trampolines, gum trees, wallabies, coloured chalk, old cars and Jen-jen summed up my early years, and it seems appropriate that she was buried in the trappings of our lively childhood together. In any event, I couldn't have been more comforted by the sight of a horse-drawn carriage than I was of that sack. It was a thing of home.
Despite this, I couldn't stay to watch him lift her limp body into the sack, and returned - with a feeling of uncomfortable weirdness, to preparing my lunch. I got it in the oven in time to watch out of the kitchen window as buried her in the spot we'd picked out. He seemed to be crying still, as well.
The next day we planted two young trees around her grave, making a triangle with an existing tree. When those trees get taller, we'll plant bromiliads and ferns there too.
When I left, Prince (the retriever) still didn't quite seem to understand what had happened.
I'm glad she's no longer suffering (hey, All Dogs Go To Heaven, right?) but I still haven't adjusted to the idea of her not being there when I go home on weekends and holidays, pained with the effort of reaching the gate but glad to see me.
I think if we'd done it earlier, before I saw her suffer so much, this whole thing would have been a lot harder, but having heard her cry in the night (and cry is the only word for it - yelp doesn't communicate the sound effectively at all) at least I can comfort myself that she's safe from suffering.

I don't quite know how to end a post like this, because I have neither a suggestion, request or question, but if you've wallowed through to the end of this, thankyou for giving me your time and I apologise for any sunshine this might have taken out of your day.

[TheCountess]

*big hug*

Oh GoodGrief, I can understand what you're going through. My dog was put down not long ago. She'd always been a happy active jumpy dog, but she'd started limping and was very quiet. Turns out she had bone cancer. We had her put down practically straight away so she wouldn't suffer longer. We'd had her practically forever.

But you don't wanna here my problems. Just so long as you know you're not alone.

[nil]

At some point of life, we all think joy and happiness is eternal. And at another point, we find out whatever comes, it eventually has to go away. Friends may leave, dogs may die, cats may disappear, your favourite TV series may be cut.... Nothing last forever. The best we can do is to cherish the present moment and, occasionally, fondle the memory of the pass.

[GoodGrief]

Aww, you guys almost make me wanna alter my sig back to being less pessimistic.

Countess, Jen-jen was just like that too. She also used to race around in circles in the paddock and scare the living daylights out of the roos and nest door's horse, and sometimes she'd race around the yard barking madly at things in the sky that only she could see. Some people said she was mad but I prefer to think that she had super-powers
My sister's dog is sweet but he only barks at things that arethere. He'll learn, though.
Poor Jenjen. She never figured very largely in my plans for taking over the world but if I managed it I was gonna make her a consul or something.
Do you know I can barely remember first grade but I can remember perfectly the first moment I saw her? I wasn't quite three years old, and it was a hot Australian Christmas day, and I was sitting on a wooden seat on the verandah just under the kitchen window. I believe the bench matched the barbeque we had at the time. I'd just received this little figurine of a girl in a purple dress and a unicorn - I can't remember for the life of me who gave it to me - and was gazing at it when my mother tried to get my attention to turn to the end of the house. I looked up just in time to see my Auntie Narelle and Nana come around the corner, and Auntie Narelle was holding up a bird cage with a yellow bottom that they used to carry the cat, Carla (now deceased) in, and in it was a tiny, excited, black-and-white puppy, all jumpy and sleek (She's always had a scruffy coat, but then it was either trimmed or well brushed) and adorable, and I named her Jennifer. It's my most vivid memory of early childhood, in fact much of childhood full stop. I've lost count of the number of pets who've come and gone since then, but she was always a constant. Even when I wasn't living at home I still knew she was back home sleeping in front of the kitchen door or barking in circles at phantoms in the sky.

Losing pets is bloody painful, but I suppose you have to take the bad with the good unless you want to try living in the neutral, which isn't living at all, really, quite aside from being dead boring. I think till Christmas will be suitable time to wait to get another dog, because Prince shouldn't be alone with only our satanic cat for quadropedal company, and it will give me and Mum a chance to argue about the breed. I saw German Shepard but she says Blue Heeler. We'll get it sorted. I wouldn't mind either, and she seems to like German Shepards well enough, so all will be well. In theory.

Has anyone else got sad stories of pet-loss? I'd be glad to commiserate. And for Countess, *big hug* it's good to know I'm not alone, although obviously it's not good that your dog died, which is weird since they're related events, but there it is, although not being alone is a state and not an event, but you know what I mean I'm sure. So without further semi-coherent rambling and ado, I open the floor to all those who own or have lost pets. Share your memories, people.

[Bomadeno]

[Pimienta]

I have owned many pets and they are all gone now but the first pet I lost was when I was five I think
she was a black lab and the gentlest creature I could have hoped to have and she had just had puppies and she was as protective of them as she was of me
I would go out and play with the puppies every day and sometimes more than once but I didn't let my mom know that I saw the puppies so much because she said that the dog would be protective of them and not want me around them but she perked up whenever I went out to visit her and her pups
We had a neighbor that wasn't a very nice person He was a grumpy type guy and we told him to stay away from our dog because she had puppies but he didn't listen and she bit him because she didn't want him around her puppies
They put her down because of it
I was told a little after it happened
I can't even remember what her name was but I remember that I had lost her
My first friend she shouldn't have died when she did and maybe if she would have still been alive my dad would have let me keep her when we moved in but he didn't let me keep my other dog so I doubt it

[GoodGrief]

They put a dog down for trying to defend her puppies?! That is wrong, stupid, and DUMB! Just one example of how FXXX up the world is. I can't believe this! You should track that guy down and egg his house or something. Okay maybe not, but still he deserves the word 'STUPID' or 'ASSHOLE' tattooed on his forehead. No dog should be put down on some idiot's account. Everybody bloody knows that dogs will bite to defend their puppies. Your council or whatever should know that. Bah!
*seethe*

Hmm, that prob'ly didn't make you feel any better... Oh well, at least you can comfort yourself that your dog made the world a better place just by having lived, coz that's why dogs were invented

[thesinofmylips]

I'm actually quite scared of most dogs, especially when they bark, but jenjen sounds like she was adorable.

but i lost my beloved bunny rabbit, dylan, when i was four.

most people couldn't work out what he was when they saw him, he was a just very large ball of white fluff.

When i came home from nursery i went outside and found the empty run.

i ran inside screaming that the bogie monster had eaten him.

My dad carefully explained that dylan missed his family, and had gone to 'the happy bunny land' to stay with them.

I was v.upset.

it was actually a few years before i worked out he was dead.

[GoodGrief]

Aww, bunny rabbits are illegal in Queensland, except for magicians and for educational purposes and such. But my family has a history of illegally keeping them as pets! When I was really little my Nana and Auntie 'Relle had one called... wait for it... Roger. He was huge! They hid him under the house when there were people visiting that they didn't trust not to dob them in. Once we had to look after him for a few days, I can't remember how old I was then. He's long dead of course.

Then there was Albie. He belonged to my cousin's then girlfriend now wife. She was from NSW I think and didn't want to give him up when she moved to QLD so he lived on the second storey balcony, and they told the neighbours he was a 'long-eared guinea pig' which I don't know if they bought. He was cute and tiny. I think he went back to parents' place though, so maybe he was found out.

And you're absolutely right - Jenjen was adorable. She was a border collie cross red kelpie.

[Mysti]

Wow.

I can't really say anything that would make this any easier for you, but I am so so so sorry for you. My thoughts are with you.

[GoodGrief]

I'll be okay. It might take a lengthly chocolate binge to make it so but I'll be okay. Have you lost any pets? If so, feel free to bleed all over the place (figure of speech) or just wax nostalgic. It's a good feeling.

[Mysti]

Yeah. I've only had one pet, a rabbit, and I lost him when he was only a year old. I loved him and it was so horrible to think he was taken away that young.

Also once I tried to keep all these insects in little plastic hamster cage that no-one was using. All of them died, and it was all my fault. That took a long time to get over in itself, even though they were just bugs.

[Galatea]

this reminds me of my four cats who disappeared after our house burned down just days ago. we've found two of them, but the other two (my favorite) are still missing. gawd, i'd feel much better if they were around.

[GoodGrief]

According to nil, cat's like to disguise themselves as out-door furniture. They'll probably turn up when they're bored of that.

As much as I constantly threaten to torch my cat, I would be very upset if he actually caught fire. Your cats are probably scared witless, but they'll turn up. If it's only been a matter of days they're probably just trying to decide whether it's safe to come home. I hope they turn up safe.

[punk04]

im sorry to hear that googreife