I wanted to share Trooper with everyone. He has been my pal since 2003…a Flame point Siamese.. he adopted us via the great people of the Dayton Humane Society (not affiliated with the natl)…I came home from the war injured in 2005 and best rest for the better part of a year…he would be on the bed a long with another who is now gone..Blue in 06. Quick with his charm….caring and always licking my face…he has made our lives so much better. He is now 12..perhaps older since he was a rescue and the doctor guessed 2. Sadly Trooper may be in the last days of life…lost weight eating has slowed and doc thinks the end is near.Still…while my wife and I are torn up at times..he comes to us as weak as he is…..he refuses to give up and who am I to deny him that. Whoever named him Trooper…did indeed name him right…a fighter to the very end….

— Tad from Ansonia, OH

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

With profound sadness, I had to euthanize our beloved Princess on 7/7/13.  Princess was a Shih Tzu and only 13 months old. We had her for a little less than a year. However, she was a complete joy and smart. She learned to be house broken in about two weeks. She was smart, adorable, playful and followed me everywhere.  If my wife went left and I went right she was always behind me. My wife jokingly called her my shadow.  I always found it amazing that if I entered a different room in the house, she would wait by the door until I invited her into the room. Unlike other dogs I had that just entered.

After several months, she began having episodes where her hind legs failed her. She would get nervous and start shaking when these episodes occurred. On Thanksgiving 2012, I rushed her to the emergency pet hospital. She underwent 3 days of hospitalization, but all diagnostic testing such as tests for toxins, blood work, liver tests and more showed nothing wrong. Over the next six months, she had several more episodes and each time I sought different vets and nothing was ever found. One vet even refused to believe there was a problem. So I took a video of her on a typical day showing she was fine and then another during one such episode where her hind legs failed her and showed it to the vet.  To cut this story short, on 7/4/13, she had another episode. This time it looked like she was breathing under stress. We were laying down on the floor watching television and she got up and put her head on my hand. That was my signal that something was wrong. So I rushed her to the animal hospital in NYC. An MRI showed that the part of the brain which controls motor control was dead. She became blind and loss use of all limbs. At that moment I knew it was time to let her go. My wife and I visited her and she looked tired. On that last day, I put her head in my hand and stroked her telling her it was ok while the doctor administered the lethal dosage to put her down. She went quietly. The doctors still have no idea why her brain tissue was dying. I consented to an autopsy of her and asked that the results be published in an effort to help other dogs in the future. We loved our Princess dearly.

— Robert from New York, NY

Pete came into my life when I was about 6 years of age, in 1995. I got to name him, and since he was a stubborn little fat pup, Peter it was, then changed to Pete. He had been found by friends of the family on the side of the road, barely able to be away from his mom, so they gave him to us.

He was fattened up by them and he was the fattest little dog you ever saw, just waddling around. He was adorable. All the way home he was in his little cardboard box trying to get out so I was the one to calm him down.

He had a great life, he loved to run around. He was a pit/lab mix and the friendliest dog, and a great protector too. My family was away from the house and the front door hadn’t been latched the whole way, so it was swinging open. Our neighbor came over to shut the door, but Pete was right in the doorway and gave them a low warning growl to not come any closer. He didn’t move until we got home. Pete was the type to bolt out the door first chance he got too, so it was a real surprise.

I remember being angry at him only one time, I had gotten a stuffed dalmation that I absolutely loved, and we came home and it looked like a couch had exploded with all the fluff that came out of that stuffed animal! And Pete sitting on the couch just thumping his tail all slow with a guilty hang-dog look, knowing he was in trouble.

The day came in 2009 when he was an old dog of 14 years though, with white all around his muzzle and bad arthritis. When he couldn’t really go places happily anymore and started not being able to use the bathroom properly, we knew his quality of life was gone. We made the decision to put him down.

I’ll never forget that day as long as I live. The only pet I’ve known for 14 years, this poor, vegetarian (he was allergic to meat products in dog food), arthritic dog was the result. He looked so sad just laying on the table, and I remember when they put that needle in, I was petting him and just crying so hard because I didn’t want to let him go. I didn’t want my little Pete to not be there when I got home from work. I wanted to just scoop him up and take him away so he didn’t have to die. But I knew that it was best for him as he was in so much pain. But it wasn’t best for me, that’s for sure.

He was so still after they did it. He didn’t wag his tail or whine. He didn’t breathe anymore. In front of me lay my pet of 14 years and I felt like I just killed him myself. This shell of a dog lay before me and I’d never seen him be so still. I cried for two days after that. I still have his collar and his name tag on my keychain.

Even though there was so much pain with his passing, I would do it all over again because he was such a special dog. He wasn’t the perfect dog, nor the worst dog. He was my little Petey-boy, and he’ll always have a special place to me.

I told myself that I’d never get another dog, but I know eventually I will, because the joy of loving overshadows the pain of passing.

— Brynna from Rockford, IL

About 6 years ago we rescued an older adult dog (Vicki the Canaan Dog), and she quickly became part of the family. During that time she survived two surgeries on her skin, one cancerous, the other not. She survived both nicely. About two months ago she got very sick very fast.Vicki got a salivary gland infection and her lymph system failed. Sadly we had to put her down.  We think Vicki may have been about 14YO. It broke our hearts. Going out the next week, “just looking” we came across Gracie the Cattle Dog. When we brought her out of her kennel to meet her, she jumped up on the bench beside me, lay down and put her head on my lap! Game over! We took her home that nite and it’s almost like we always had her! Thank GOD for dogs!

— Andrew from Hauppauge, NY

Back in December of 2012, I decided to get a cat as a companion since I live alone. Long story short, I decided to rescue a cat from a local shelter I found on the internet. I was attracted to a little guy that had a hard start to life. At about 1 month of age he was found cold and alone and very sick. He was going to be put to sleep because he had such a terrible respiratory infection and his eyes were so infected they had to be removed. Yes, “Timmy” was only about 1 month old , sick and now blind ….When a lady that worked for the Vet saw he was going to be put to sleep, she said.. “I’ll take him and care for him”…. she raised him till he was about 5 months old.

Timmy has been a wonderful addition to my life and has adapted to his blindness so well you would probably not notice if you were not paying attention. He is a true friend, and a very loving and healthy little guy.

I work during the day so thought he may need a companion when I was gone. I adopted another female cat, Sunshine, who also has major visual impairments, nystagmus and corneal scaring and then some… Her story was also sad, a lady saw a man who was going to drowned her and her kittens in a lake and rescued them. It is terrible when people are so cruel, and see no value in life.

They have both become good friends and now have a loving home. I have worked, part of my career with deaf-blind and blind individuals, so have an extra insight in to their special needs… There are many blind and visually impaired cats out there that need adoption. They adapt so well that people should not make this a determining factor on whether to adopt them or not. In fact, you may find their depth of bonding makes it a positive factor.

— Thomas from Delaware, OH