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Departed pets;
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Join Date:Posts: 24128
I got Beanie's ashes back today
If anyone wonders what the vessels are like, this is what I got. Its called a "tribute box" and is a 6" x 6" pine box with his name engraved on a gold tag with space to put a photo. It's actually really lovely. Inside his ashes are wrapped neatly in decorative paper.
It probably is a bit odd posting the pic, but might be helpful if anyone is considering the cremation option in the future. I find it much easier to go through this process than burying a pet, but everyones different.
The picture frame is a great idea. Can I ask what the cremation cost. We looked at it a while back for our rabbit and it was very expensive. Like the other poster he's also in the back under his favourite spot..0 -
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Join Date:Posts: 24128
:eek: That's mental, a rabbit is only a few kg. Your vet must have been adding a massive markup. Ill PM you the price list so you can see for yourself
Yeah. And he was a lion head at that..
I would have loved something like that because he was a house pet really. He lived in the house and was very close to everyone. He has a nice little spot out the back anyway.0 -
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Unfortunately We had to Put our JR McCain down on Saturday.
He was a dog i rescued the October bank holiday, Local Vet had know we were looking for a small Dog and that a rehome was the preferred option. When he came into our lives he had a number of issues to over come, He had been hit by a car prior to coming to us and there was a risk of having to have one leg amputated. Luckily this wasnt the case. Hernia, Damaged ribs Cracked teeth and a heart defect were also some of the obstacles he had to overcome. With no notion of his age or tempermant we took hime in and he was a Master of a dog. Friendly affectionate, Loved my niece and my partners nephew.
Was responsible for scares (mine) esp when he went missing for 3 days after an attempted break in.
His health had declined due to Fluid int the lungs, Bronchitis and a heart that had swollen to double its size. After a rough couple of days, he hadnt slept, mostly trying to stay awake to keep breathing we decided that we wanted him to go in peace and in a dignified way.
It's the first time i've had to make a decision like that and you cant really prepare for it. Now we have a Lab who's looking for his little buddy which is kinda heatbreaking. I loved that little furface and i miss him.
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Just back from the vets, Ginger, a 16 year old long haired cat has just boarded the stairway to moggy heaven We found him out the back garden years ago, tiny little ball of fur & was on the verge of being feral. We got him in time, & after a few days of coaxing him closer & closer, he eventually called our home his home. He's had a wheezy chest his whole life, the vet one thought he might have had a dose of cat flu when he was a kitten...so we never thought he'd last this long. He beat the odds though, until very recently.
He's been off his grub a few days now, lethargic & for one or two days last week was very wobbly & had no balance. Then yesterday, water retention made him balloon out & the difficult call was made. So today, the vet thinks he had a heart attack, & wouldn't have lasted much longer.
I stayed with him, & seen him on his way. Godspeed ginge'oh, you'll be missed
So, a month on, & I'm just back from the vets after having Gingers step-sister {non related, but 15 years together} put to sleep. Gizzy, {Gizmo}, was 16 & the very definition of a cat up until a few weeks ago. The cleanest, most proud, most agile cat you've ever seen. Then, an upper respiratory infection got its claws into her a few weeks ago. Since then, she'd been off her food, depressive, & lethargic. She was starting to bounce back from it though, & there a few days ago, something happened one of her teeth, it must have been loose or something & was making an audible crunching noise when she attempted to eat. The weight fell off her pretty suddenly too.
So we brought her today to the vets, & the vet had a feel of her & said there was a pretty obvious kidney growth, which explains why she had been drinking a lot more, excessive & foul smelling salivation, weight loss & general lifeless demeanor. So at the ripe age of 16, we said our goodbyes to Gizzy, & wish her well in the beyond...
For the first time in about 20 years, the house is now without pets. It's a strange feeling, especially to lose two of them basically a month apart.0 -
Join Date:Posts: 25691
Jack, who we got from the Dog's Trust three years ago at age 12, overweight and with a heart condition, went to sleep at the vets this afternoon. He had lost the weight, but old age and a hard early life caught up on him. He was a good little man til the end.
Here he is with his pug pal, who misses him very much.0 -
Jack, who we got from the Dog's Trust three years ago at age 12, overweight and with a heart condition, went to sleep at the vets this afternoon. He had lost the weight, but old age and a hard early life caught up on him. He was a good little man til the end.
Here he is with his pug pal, who misses him very much.
Bye Jack.
I am glad that you had three years of love after 12 hard years.0 -
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I am very sorry you lost Jack Spurious,he looks adorable!!!!Bannasidhe wrote:Bye Jack.
I am glad that you had three years of love after 12 hard years.
You were very good to him!!!!
Peace and love to you my friend
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Oh this thread..... I'm sat here blubbering like an eejit! Even the thought of my girl leaving me tips me over! I'm so sad for all Tres gorgeous pets!! I hope you will soon remember them fondly and you can appreciate how lucky it was you picked THEM from the litter or shelter! I'm not religious but our pets are blessings. 0
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Have been told by so many people that it was right thing to do, putting down our lovely dog. She was unable to stand on her own, apparently confused and barely able to walk. So why do I feel like a murderer? This feels like one of the worst days of my life. She was with us nearly 15 years and was the most loving, loyal dog I have ever known.
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Dozen Wicked Words wrote: »Have been told by so many people that it was right thing to do, putting down our lovely dog. She was unable to stand on her own, apparently confused and barely able to walk. So why do I feel like a murderer? This feels like one of the worst days of my life. She was with us nearly 15 years and was the most loving, loyal dog I have ever known.
I understand completely.
It is coming up to a year since I, reluctantly, decided to have my beloved 16 year old JRT PTS and hardly a day goes by where I don't say 'what if...'. 'Maybe if we...', 'Did I do the right thing?' and yes, I feel sometimes like I murdered her.
She had a liver tumour, was no longer eating, spent her last few days trying to hide from the kids so she could vomit, she was in distress and her future held only pain - but still I wonder...
I didn't 'mind' that she was blind and deaf, that we had to lift her up and set her down, that her walks were more carrys, that she got addled a lot - because she was here with me and it wasn't a big deal to keep an eye on her and go looking when she hadn't appeared for a while to see which wall she was blindly peering intently at but I did mind that she was in pain and I didn't want my best friend who had shared so much joy with me to end her days knowing nothing but pain. She had the heart of an ox and was hanging on and hanging on to our life together but at such a terrible cost. The least I could do was take her pain away.
I hope if I am ever in that situation- someone will love me enough to take my pain away.
That's all we can do Dozen Wicked Words - love them and mind them - even when minding them means helping them to go. Better we live with our doubts and yes, guilt, than our beloved friends live on in pain and distress.0 -
My sidekick came to us when she was just ten weeks old. A beautiful lab/setter cross. The most adorable pup you've ever set eyes on. She was mad for the first few years (that'd be the setter!). My first dog and best mate. We had some great times. She loved the water. She'd break the ice to get in, and in fact one day she did just that in Phoenix Park, which resulted in me lying on my tummy trying to pull the daft eejit out
She lived for the ball, and for us. She'd kill you for a biscuit. Oh and she loved men. Something about their deep voices that got her lol. I remember when the neighbours were building their house, she'd go up every day and spend hours on the site, begging lunch from the workers. When the roof was being built, the man doing it would throw the offcuts of wood into the garden. After a day of doing this...he came down to find them all in a pile at the bottom of the ladder, nicely retrieved and her with a dopey doggy "smile" on her beautiful face. She'd put her ball in the cement mixer - knowing they'd have to take it out and if they did that sure they might as well throw it 
We used to dress her up at Christmas. She hated it. Depressed reindeer we'd call her, and she'd greet everyone at the door with an oversized red coat and crooked antlers - look at what they did to me! 
A condition called DM (degenerative myelopathy) crept in. She'd always had the gene of course, we didn't know. It develops late. One day we were out walking and I heard a faint scraping of her nail off the ground. There followed a three year battle (hers was always bigger than ours). Physio, hydro, smuggling trial treatments in She got Eddie's wheels (amazing) and had a whole new lease of life for about 8 months. Then the disease crept and spread and she lost the use of her front legs. She was incontinent (and on diuretics for a dodgy heart - incontinence + diuretics = fun times :rolleyes:) but I could never make "that" decision for her. I was wracked with guilt. I suppose because she wasn't in pain, and her mind was still perfect and she still had a huge appetite, she loved her evening baths, sitting out in the garden with me playing tug with her bear and cuddles. I think I knew she didn't want to go. She was a trooper and a hero. A day came when she seemed to tire. She lost something, I don't know what it was but I just sort of knew it was time. We organised for a home euthanasia - my only remaining wish for her was not to end her life in the place she hated the most. We collected the sedatives with the idea that we would administer them, and then the vet would call out two hours after and euthanase. I was devastated, and torn and so guilty!
I don't know if she was trying to save us, or if it was gods plan or simply nothing, but she rallied. So, we held off. She improved. We had a short time with her. And then one day shortly after, she was sitting out in the garden in the morning sun and a massive stroke hit. I don't think she even knew what happened. I hope she didn't. I carried her onto my bed and held her. She passed away in less than two minutes. My parents wanted to call the vet but I asked them to just stay with us - I knew it was now her time. I held her and said, "You've always been a great dog. You're a trooper and we love you" and she stopped breathing. I'm so grateful that I got to be with her in the beginning and at the end, and I'll always be grateful for all the wonderful years we shared in between.
It's over two years now. Most of the time I'm fine, but sometimes it can blindside you, when you don't expect it and you just feel their absence as an actual physical thing. Then it passes. But they're always with us.
I have another mate now, not better or worse, but very different. She's a brat actually, but she's my brat and I love her, and I know she loves me - in fact I wish I could be the person she seems to think I am! She will never replace my first sidekick, nor should she have to live up to her. She just is, and that's fine and perfect enough for me. We measure out our lives in friends that succeed, but never replace each other and we are blessed to have had them.0 -
OldNotWIse wrote: »My sidekick came to us when she was just ten weeks old. A beautiful lab/setter cross. The most adorable pup you've ever set eyes on. She was mad for the first few years (that'd be the setter!). My first dog and best mate. We had some great times. She loved the water. She'd break the ice to get in, and in fact one day she did just that in Phoenix Park, which resulted in me lying on my tummy trying to pull the daft eejit out She lived for the ball, and for us. She'd kill you for a biscuit. Oh and she loved men. Something about their deep voices that got her lol. I remember when the neihbours were building their house, she'd go up every day and spend hours on the site, begging lunch from the workers. When the roof was being built, the man doing it would throw the offcuts of wood into the garden. After a day of doing this...he came down to find them all in a pile at the bottom of the ladder, nicely retrieved and her with a dopey doggy "smile" on her beautiful face. She'd put her ball in the cement mixer - knowing they'd have to take it out and if they did that sure they might as well throw it We used to dress her up at Christmas. She hated it. Depressed reindeer we'd call her, and she'd greet everyone at the door with an oversized red coat and crooked antlers - look at what they did to me!
A condition called DM (degenerative myelopathy) crept on. She's always had the gene of course, we didn't know. It develops late. One day we were out walking and I heard a faint scraping of her nail off the ground. There followed a three year battle (hers was always bigger than ours). Physio, hydro, smuggling trial treatments in She got Eddie's wheels (amazing) and had a whole new lease of life for about 8 months. Then the disease crept and spread and she lost the use of her front legs. She was incontinent (and on diuretics for a dodgy heart - incontinence + diuretics = fun times :rolleyes:) but I could never make "that" decision for her. I was wracked with guilt. I suppose because she wasn't in pain, and her mind was still perfect and she still had a huge appetite, she loved her evening baths, sitting out in the garden with me playing tug with her bear and cuddles. I think I knew she didn't want to go. She was a trooper and a hero. A day came when she seemed to tire. She lost something, I don't know what it was but I just sort of knew it was time. We organised for a home euthanasia - my only remaining wish for her was not to end her life in the place she hated the most. We collected the sedatives with the idea that we would administer them, and then the vet would call out two hours after and euthanase. I was devastated, and torn and so guilty!
I don't know if she was trying to save us, or if it was gods plan or simply nothing, but she rallied. So, we held off. She improved. We had a short time with her. And then one day shortly after, she was sitting out in the garden in the morning sun and a massive stroke hit. I don't think she even knew what happened. I hope she didn't. I carried her into my bed and held her. She passed away in less than two minutes. My parents wanted to call the vet but I asked them to just stay with us - I knew it was now her time. I held her and said, "You've always been a great dog. You're a trooper and we love you" and she stopped breathing. I'm so grateful that I got to be with her in the beginning and at the end, and I'll always be grateful for all the wonderful years we shared in between.
It's over two years now. Most of the time I'm fine, but sometimes it can blindside you, when you don't expect it and you just feel their absence as an actual physical thing. Then it passes. But they're always with us.
I have another mate now, not better or worse, but very different. She's a brat actually, but she's my brat and I love her, and I know she loves me - in fact I wish I could be the person she seems to think I am! She will never replace my first sidekcik, nor should she have to live up to her. She just is, and that's fine and perfect enough for me. We measure out our lives in friends that succeed, but never replace each other and we are blessed to have had them.
OMG I'm bawling my fcuking eyes out here. It's a lovely story, you know what I mean when I say that - missing and thinking of all my lost and departed pets today.0 -
Dozen Wicked Words wrote: »Have been told by so many people that it was right thing to do, putting down our lovely dog. She was unable to stand on her own, apparently confused and barely able to walk. So why do I feel like a murderer? This feels like one of the worst days of my life. She was with us nearly 15 years and was the most loving, loyal dog I have ever known.
Oh Dozen I know exactly how you feel. I had to make that decision too and in similiar circumstances - although she had liver failure in the end and well I keep consoling myself it was the right thing to do. But yes I too felt like turning back the clock. However, as the weeks have passed the grief is slowly being replaced by all the lovely memories, 15 years is a long life, and I'm sure you made that life a good one for your dog. But it is heart wrenching, I was so unashamedly saddened by my loss, it's a big part of your life when you lose a trusting companion of almost 15 years, I know. There's nothing that will really take away that feeling of regret, only time, and you will realise you did the best thing for her always.0 -
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OldNotWIse wrote: »My sidekick came to us when she was just ten weeks old. A beautiful lab/setter cross. The most adorable pup you've ever set eyes on. She was mad for the first few years (that'd be the setter!). My first dog and best mate. We had some great times. She loved the water. She'd break the ice to get in, and in fact one day she did just that in Phoenix Park, which resulted in me lying on my tummy trying to pull the daft eejit out She lived for the ball, and for us. She'd kill you for a biscuit. Oh and she loved men. Something about their deep voices that got her lol. I remember when the neighbours were building their house, she'd go up every day and spend hours on the site, begging lunch from the workers. When the roof was being built, the man doing it would throw the offcuts of wood into the garden. After a day of doing this...he came down to find them all in a pile at the bottom of the ladder, nicely retrieved and her with a dopey doggy "smile" on her beautiful face. She'd put her ball in the cement mixer - knowing they'd have to take it out and if they did that sure they might as well throw it We used to dress her up at Christmas. She hated it. Depressed reindeer we'd call her, and she'd greet everyone at the door with an oversized red coat and crooked antlers - look at what they did to me!
A condition called DM (degenerative myelopathy) crept in. She'd always had the gene of course, we didn't know. It develops late. One day we were out walking and I heard a faint scraping of her nail off the ground. There followed a three year battle (hers was always bigger than ours). Physio, hydro, smuggling trial treatments in She got Eddie's wheels (amazing) and had a whole new lease of life for about 8 months. Then the disease crept and spread and she lost the use of her front legs. She was incontinent (and on diuretics for a dodgy heart - incontinence + diuretics = fun times :rolleyes:) but I could never make "that" decision for her. I was wracked with guilt. I suppose because she wasn't in pain, and her mind was still perfect and she still had a huge appetite, she loved her evening baths, sitting out in the garden with me playing tug with her bear and cuddles. I think I knew she didn't want to go. She was a trooper and a hero. A day came when she seemed to tire. She lost something, I don't know what it was but I just sort of knew it was time. We organised for a home euthanasia - my only remaining wish for her was not to end her life in the place she hated the most. We collected the sedatives with the idea that we would administer them, and then the vet would call out two hours after and euthanase. I was devastated, and torn and so guilty!
I don't know if she was trying to save us, or if it was gods plan or simply nothing, but she rallied. So, we held off. She improved. We had a short time with her. And then one day shortly after, she was sitting out in the garden in the morning sun and a massive stroke hit. I don't think she even knew what happened. I hope she didn't. I carried her onto my bed and held her. She passed away in less than two minutes. My parents wanted to call the vet but I asked them to just stay with us - I knew it was now her time. I held her and said, "You've always been a great dog. You're a trooper and we love you" and she stopped breathing. I'm so grateful that I got to be with her in the beginning and at the end, and I'll always be grateful for all the wonderful years we shared in between.
It's over two years now. Most of the time I'm fine, but sometimes it can blindside you, when you don't expect it and you just feel their absence as an actual physical thing. Then it passes. But they're always with us.
I have another mate now, not better or worse, but very different. She's a brat actually, but she's my brat and I love her, and I know she loves me - in fact I wish I could be the person she seems to think I am! She will never replace my first sidekick, nor should she have to live up to her. She just is, and that's fine and perfect enough for me. We measure out our lives in friends that succeed, but never replace each other and we are blessed to have had them.
I could not read the last paragraph, not because I did not want to but because my eyesight was so blurred with tears0 -
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OldNotWIse wrote: »But the last paragraph is a happy one!
Your right, it is. I have lost a couple of cats over the years and have never forgotten them either, my present two buds are characters in themselves.0 -
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