It has now been one month since our pet Chipper passed away.   Words just can’t express how much a void we have in our lives since he left us.   Every time I walk through the door into the house I expect him to be there to greet me with a hug.   His presence is felt just as strongly as it was when I took this picture of him inspecting his stocking early on Christmas morning before everyone woke up.

He was very high maintenance to the point of stalking me all over the house and he would go crazy to be with me when I was outside.   I loved it!   Having someone who unconditionally loved me and wanted to be with me 24/7 was a joy and I miss it!
My kids grew up with Chipper and miss him so much.   My wife has mourned along with me as he meant so much to everyone.   Domesticating Pets has to be among the best inventions ever made by man.   What a blessing they are!   RIP my beloved Chipper.   We love you!

— Fred from Suwanee, GA

Monday a week ago, our Doberman passed away. We had her for 12 and 1/2 years. She was the best companion – the last 3 years have been very hard on my wife, as her father passed away and our disabled daughter was in the hospital twice for weeks at a time; one visit was an extended period in the ICU. My wife relied on the dog for comfort and companionship, so the loss of her baby is especially difficult. “Loo”, her nickname, was a protector of everyone in the house and the most gentle of demeanor. We have missed her quite a bit.

— Barry from Jacksonville, FL

Yesterday I took my dog Puddin to her last vet visit. It was devastating frankly. She had bladder cancer and we nursed her along for 6 months, giving her pills, cleaning up after her, comforting her. I couldn’t afford chemo and the vet did not think it would be successful in her case. I don’t I just know I feel bad, we lost a good friend.  I wish I could have done more.

— Tim from Manassas, VA

When I was younger my family (there were 7 of us altogether) had a beautiful collie names Sandy.  Like most collies he was gentle, affectionate & loving.   Most of all he liked to be petted, but when we got our first TV (in the 50’s) we were all so facinated with Roy Rogers and other programs and we would all sit around it and be more occupied with it than with him.  One day he went around to each of us to be petted and praised, but his feelings must have been hurt when we told him to go away.  Then he went in front of the TV and sat down so that we couldn’t see the TV, — only him!!  We all laughed and decided he was the most entertaining of all — even more than what was on TV, so we all got up and petted him and praised him.  I’ll never forget him.  He was our first and my most favorite pet of all.

— Rena from Stanely, WI

Strider, our newest dog, a mini Aussie Shepard, is the best. He is special in so many ways.

We were still mourning the loss of our border collie, Flip,who died suddenly last July. Planning to adopt another dog sometime this year, a friend told us of a puppy that needed a home. The word was he was almost free since the breeder couldn’t sell him. It was love at first sight. There was something different about this puppy. He wasn’t quite 3 months old but seemed like a mature dog. Strider was raised in a horse stall yet he house broke himself. He adopted us quickly, following us everywhere. We could call him and he was there instantly. I enrolled him in a basic manners class and was easy to train. Having had 3 border collies, I was amazed how quickly he learned and wanted to please. What really made me realize how special he is what happened when I took him with me when I picked up my 90 year old mother from adult day care. I let the manager walk him in to meet the small group of elderly and disabled residents sitting around a large table. He was calm and let everyone pet him. Strider laid down next to the the person who needed the most care there. It was obvious he wanted to help in some way.

We are looking forward to our next class & working toward being a therapy dog.

— Pamela from Hamilton, VA

Just over a week ago, something devastating happened to me. I lost my best friend, my long-haired love Sweet pea. Three weeks before that, another devastation, I lost my other beautiful best friend, Lacey. They were litter-mates, sisters, and best friends.

In March we found out Lacey had a very large liver mass, with the only defining time of how much time I had left with her was that “…every day that she eats, is a good day.”  Around that time, I noticed that Sweet pea was acting bit depressed, but I thought that was because I was spending so much extra time with Lacey and she was getting jealous. After a week she wasn’t acting herself still, so I took her into the vet the following weekend. The blood work left no questions – she was in renal failure.  This is truly the only time in my life I have ever wished for wealth, for money would have been the means by which time could have been bought for them.

I still can’t believe they are gone.  For days I cried nonstop. I cried when I woke up. I cried in the shower. I cried when I was drinking my coffee, on the way to work, at work, driving home, and in bed before I went to sleep. Last night I cried as I sat on the sidewalk watching our town’s firework display. You see, fireworks would scare my babies so I never went to them; I always stayed home comforting my puppies during the bangs and booms of the 4th of July celebrations. I would have given anything to have been able to be home with them instead of where I was.

My days are lonely; there is no one spinning in circles and jumping for absolute joy when I walk in the door. No one is by my side when I watch TV, or waiting by the shower door when I step out of the tub, or begging for a morsel of my breakfast. The place in the bed where my dogs once lied is empty and cold. My grief has not subsided and I know that as the months pass life will become more “usual” for time will force this change on me, but I will never get over this loss.  I will never get another dog, for I can’t even thing of replacing my lovelies. I will go to work, pay my bills and act normal because I have to, all the while hiding the grief and (mostly) waiting for private moment s to let down the barrier that holds my tears. Most of the time I am able to, although while at the mall a few days ago returning something I couldn’t stop the flood of tears and the poor girl waiting on me didn’t even know how to act (can’t say that I blame her).

So, I wait out until the time when God calls me home. While I am not suicidal, truly I hope it is sooner rather than later. My joy is gone. Sleep is a relief, and when I dream about my babies it feels so good to “see” them again. I have had them both since they were seven weeks old, and for 14 years they have loved me like no other. At the same time I feel guilty, wrapped up in my own feelings and so mad at God for not giving me more time with them and taking them both at almost the same time, that it’s hard for me to feel the pain of those around me. I have a co-worker who lost her husband last month and I am so busy grieving for myself that I can’t share her grief like I think I should.

I wanted to put this down into words for there is a strange consolation in sharing my loss.

— Pam from Felton, PA