This brought tears to my eyes...

glockman99

glockman99

RIP Dann, you were a good guy.
Joined
Jun 12, 2000
Messages
21,269
I was looking through the Best of Craigslist, and I came-across this:

best of craigslist > seattle-tacoma > Goodbye, Sweetie
Originally Posted: Tue, 22 Aug 07:37 PDT

Goodbye, Sweetie
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2006-08-22, 7:37AM PDT

" You came to me as a tiny baby, staggering up to me one night shortly after my husband died. I'd walked out onto the porch to watch a lightning storm and heard the little squeaky sounds before I saw you struggling up the steps, soaked and desperate for warmth and food. I had no idea where your mother could be. You were barely weaned. I don't know if that early separation was why you stayed so small all your life, barely seven pounds even in adulthood.

I took you inside and dried you off and fed you with an eyedropper, and you curled up in my lap for the evening, something you would do every evening for ten years. It was our ritual, our evening time together.

You were a quiet little thing, never making yourself obnoxious, always polite. You seemed to enjoy silence as much as I did; when I talked to you too much, you got up and left. It was just one of your little quirks that amused me. Another one was the way you ate the food in your dish, starting at one side and working your way over to the other side in a precise, straight line.

I liked it that when we played, you kept your claws and teeth to yourself, pawing and licking but never biting or scratching. You were more like a little dog than a cat in some of your behaviors. You kept yourself clean and never smelled bad, in fact your fur always had a very faint fragrance like jasmine, something I never figured out, but liked very much.

Another thing I never figured out was that whenever anyone stopped by, you disappeared. My friends used to tease me, saying I didn't really have a cat. You never allowed anyone but me to touch you, that I knew of, although there was that one exception, the gentle woman who came to the door for help when she had pulled over with a flat tire out on the road. You wound around her ankles while I stood there watching in disbelief. You begged her to pick you up, and snuggled into her arms. I will admit a bit of jealousy, and the only explanation came when she mentioned to me while we waited for the triple-A truck, that she was a Buddhist.

You could have left anytime. I never made any rules, never had to, never tried to own you. You stayed anyway, and I was glad to have a cat that didn't jump up onto the countertops and tables. I discovered after a while that this was because you were afraid of heights and if placed on a surface above my thigh level, you cried in fear and wouldn't jump down. I knew my kitchen surfaces wouldn't be tracked on, and that was wonderful.

You went outdoors to do your business, rain or shine, so I never had to have a kitty box in the house. Yet, you never brought fleas in, something I watched for since I'm hyper-vigilant for them, because they bite me so badly. You didn't shed much, either. You were so pretty with your warm caramel fur and pale blue eyes. I never got tired of looking at you, your delicate, triangular head, small-boned limbs, your perfect, tiny paws.

So you were my magical little cat, a miracle, really. With hubby gone and kids grown and living in other states and my friends turning into little old ladies with their endless recitation of ills and surgeries and feuds, you were my quiet place.

I found the hard mass on your underside one evening when you came to lay on my lap and couldn't quite make the jump up onto the couch. I could tell you weren't feeling good, but you'd been so quiet and polite about it that it took a while for me to notice.

I'm sorry I didn't have a way to save you. I coudn't afford the outrageous fee the vet wanted for removing the tumor next to your stomach. I had to let you go, and now I miss you so much, especially in the evenings. My lap feels very empty, and though I like silence, I miss that rumbly little purr you used to produce before going to sleep.

Everything changes, everything passes away, we all do. You came up my front steps at the perfect moment, and you saw me through a difficult time, little kitty, and I thank you. Goodbye, sweetie. "

Reading this reminded me of my 2 cats (Tiger-Man, and Toby)...Both who had to be "put to sleep" due to severe medical problems.
 
I haven't shed too many tears over people but I've shed plenty over critters. Thanks for posting that.

Frank
 
I'm a dog person but I was very touched by this person's ability to put their feelings for their pet to paper. Bravo! This brought tears to my eyes and these words to the 'puter...

My eyes are glassy and filled with tears.
For the Lord has taken you back, it appears.
We have helped each other confront our fears.
You will be in my thoughts and heart for many years.
 
I just put my best friend to sleep today, I say my best friend, but he was more like my son, I got him at 8 weeks old, he was 11 years old and would have been 12 in April, he was my boy, my pitbull, his name was Rage, he had a blown disk in his back, and couldnt feel his back legs, though he never complained, and still would try and jump up onto the bed, to go to sleep.

The last couple of weeks ive been carrying him outside to go to the bathroom, pick him up and lay him on the bed to sleep, at night he had to be right at my leg to fall asleep, he was this way for 11 years.
When he was a pup, I built a pen for him, at night he would cry, me being the weak softy, I slept outside with him, we both agreed that this sucked and he was going to be a house dog, I think he never forgot me sleeping outside with him, so for 11 years, he stayed right by my side as I slept.

This morning when I let him out, he dragged both back legs and was using all his might with his front legs to move, his paws were bloody from dragging.
That is when I knew that I could no longer watch the boy who always made me proud, happy when I was down, be in this kind of shape. He was 11 years old, but as smart and alert as if he was 2. Our vet came to the house, gave him a heavy shot to make him sleep, he even tried to get up after that, I whisperd in his ear to relax and sleep, Ol Buddy and that he did, to a typical Rage snore, then he got the final shot, and passed on.
Even in this bad shape, he would follow me to the restroom and wait outside the door, always by my side. So I made sure, that I was by his side when he was having trouble, and today, when he passed on.

I miss him already....
 
I lost my best friend awhile ago. I put him down, and it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Still hurts.

Thanks for posting. Reminded me of the great memories I have of my friend.

Andy
 
I felt that way about my black Labrador, Kip. When I finally had to have him put down at 14 when his hips had totally given out, the gave me some time alone with him and I just held him and cried and cried. When they came back in and asked me if I wanted to leave, I said that I could not imagine doing so. I held Kip as he went to sleep, stroking his head all of the while. That was ten years ago and I STILL miss him.
 
FullerH said:
I felt that way about my black Labrador, Kip. When I finally had to have him put down at 14 when his hips had totally given out, the gave me some time alone with him and I just held him and cried and cried. When they came back in and asked me if I wanted to leave, I said that I could not imagine doing so. I held Kip as he went to sleep, stroking his head all of the while. That was ten years ago and I STILL miss him.
Click to expand...
I did the same with my cat "Tiger-Man"...I held him in my arms as he received the injection that ended his suffering, and I cried like a hungry baby. I couldn't do it with my cat "Toby", so my wife had to take him in for his "final visit to the Vet.". In both of these cases, our Vet was also upset that this had to be done...He's a good Vet., who really does care about animals.
 
Its just tough, I just hope some how some way it will get easier, I cant even go into my bedroom without breaking down, its now a empty, sad place I dont care to be. I buried Rage in the front yard next to the tree he used to swing from, he would play tuggle war with the rope I tied up there for him. I know this might sound strange, But lastnight, I felt him crawl around in his spot on the bed trying to get comfy like he always did.

As I write this, Think about the human buddies that ive lost, and didnt hurt this bad..
 
Featherstone45, yes, I can think of human friends and relatives who have died whom I don't miss half so much, but I posted over in the Political Arena about my best friend from college who was in the Foreign Service. His name was Wayne Alan Roy and I met him my first day at American University when he walked up to me as I was sitting outsinde in the Quad and sketching a Confederate cavalry officer from the War Between the States. It turned out that we had amazingly similar interests and we grew ever closer in our years in college. I was best man at his wedding and he at mine and we were god parents for each others' first-born children.

After almost 30 years of very close friendship, almost brotherhood, I got a phone call from his wife to say that he had just died of cancer. He had been in Accra, Ghana, when it was diagnosed and he and his family were brought home immediately for treatment. Poor Wayne could not let anyone see him failing at anything, so his family were told not to contact any of his friends. They were here for some six months while he was dieing and could not reach out for help. When I heard, I cried for four days straight, going around my office looking to pick a fight with someone, anyone. And I am typing this with tears in my eyes now, and his death was in 1989.
 
I will also say that, after Kip's death, I posted a copy of Stephen Foster's "Old Dog Trey" up on my office door. I got a number of people stopping by to say how sorry they were, but then I got an email from the Front Office reminding me that taping notes to office doors is against GSA regulations. Such caring people!
 
on my corkboard, here at work. Guinevere, my 11yo grey tabby who's still as mean as the day is long. Timmorn, a cat we fished out of traffic three years ago, after being hit by two cars. Alive and well with seven lives left. Rook, my 10yo Shar-Pei/Lab mix. My baby girl. Luna, my Mom's 9yo Aussie/Lab mix who lost her battle with cancer a couple of months ago. Sarge & Tyler, my Mom's Bostons. Sarge is 4yo and about the biggest Boston I've ever seen, 30lbs of muscle. Tyler is still a pup, he joined the family shortly after Luna died.

My wife and I aren't having children so Guinevere, Timmorn and Rook are our kids.

Frank
 
Isn't it something how the death of a loved pet can hurt more than a loved human friend, sometimes? Maybe more often than not. I believe our canine and feline friends are the embodiment of innocence and this is one of the reasons we love them so much and it's the loss of that innocence that hits us so very hard.

I've lost several dogs over the years. All of them were closer to me than most people. You can develop a deep trust and friendship with a dog that's truly rare between human and human. Each loss hit me so hard I cried with abandon, like a lost child, sometimes for days and I truly dread the day that I lose the next. But, even though I know it will happen it doesn't stop me from loving another dog. The reward is just too great, I guess.
 
Jeez i can't even think about losing out current dog Kade. He is the best dog ever and we got home shortly before our last dog died. That dog i did not really have a connection with but the day Kade goes i will probalbly bawl for days. He's a 6 year old husky with blue eyes and i can remember like yesterday when he would come up and tackle me into a snowbank. Then he would take my gloves off my hands and run like theres no tomorrow. This dog would not bring the gloves back no matter how angry i tried to sound. Deep inside i was laughing my ass and i think he knew too because he came right back over and took me down again. :)
 
That sorry sounds very like my own cat and her name was 'Sweetie'. She was the runt of the litter and wasn't expected to survive. She was a very loving but timid cat and it was impossible to pick her up as she was squeezed too tight by a Downs Syndrome boy on the farm where she was born. She gave a lot of love though and rolled over for her tummy to be rubbed every time you said "who's the baby". She also had an intestinal tumour, and although we paid the vet a lot of money, they couldn't cure her, but gave her a comfortable two weeks to spend with us at home before she died in May this year.
 
It always helps, to me anyway to hear others who have gone through the same as I have...You really miss them when their gone.

My siamese "Kinky" (because of his tail) died as the vet was coming to the house to put him down, Its been 3 1\2yrs now and I still miss him, he was 13.

Keith
 
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