Suki died today

the wolf wrote:

dont beat yourself up D2D. there are a lot of things i would do different now having gone through it with Zillah.

she knows why you left her there, she knows you were trying to help her get better and that you loved her.

I know it hurts thinking about what ifs and all that other painful shit that goes with it.

Zillah and I were sleeping on the couch and his big ass was digging into me, and I made him get down. he died a few hours later, and I beat the shit outta myself for making him get down. He knew he was in bad shape and just wanted to lay with me i think.

don't go down that road of kicking yourself.

again, I'm so very sorry for your loss.

eMMI wrote:

I'm very sorry to hear this D2D.

Like others have said, 20 years is a long time. I know how much you loved Suki and Suki knows how much you loved her. I say 'loved', but of course that love is still there. All that caring can't and won't just disappear even though she's no longer with you.

Things like this are tough, I still feel awful for not having been able to visit our first kitty before she died, and that was years ago. But I can focus on the good memories I have of her, and that makes me feel better.

Warm thoughts to you (and the hubby + doggies), time heals all wounds.

*hugs*

whoprincess wrote:

I'm so sorry, D2D. Suki was a beautiful kitty and it's clear you loved and cared for her. She had an amazing life span and that alone tells me how much she was cared for.

You said that you have a great vet. Instead of thinking of her dying alone, try to focus on the fact that she was in the hands of a caring professional. If he is as good a guy as you say he is, then his staff must have been attentive to her needs. I know it's not the same as her dying at home, with you there, but it's not as if you abandoned her. Animals seem to have a pretty strong sense of who means them well, and Suki was among friends when she passed. I hope it gives you some comfort to think about her being well cared for right up until she died.

I also "get" what you're saying. Each time I've lost one of my dogs (6 over the years) I make myself crazy wondering what I could have done differently or why I didn't do "whatever" could have changed things or made their passing easier. In 1996, we lost the dog that we've probably loved best over the years. Her name was Tess and she developed a rare, virulent form of breast cancer. She died less than 3 weeks after I found lumps on her. She had surgery but it was so aggressive that it soon filled her lungs and went to her brain. One morning when I found she couldn't stand up, I took her right to the vet and went on to work. Our vet (who is wonderful!) called me to tell me how badly the cancer had spread and that she had collapsed while they were doing x-rays. He advised us to get there quickly so she could be euthanized. I asked if we couldn't take her home that evening so she could die at home but he said that she didn't have that much time.

I called my husband and we both left work. We got to the vet's, only to learn that Tess had died a few minutes earlier. The vet tried to call us to tell us to hurry, but we were en route when he called. I felt something like you must be feeling--overwhelmingly devastated that we weren't there and she had died alone. My vet, however, assured me that she had never been alone. He and his staff adored Tess and someone was with her constantly that last day. Glenn and I both cried like babies and the vet hugged and comforted us both. I was broken-hearted for a long time over not being with her when she died. Our other dog cried every night at bed time for 2 weeks afterward, which made me even sadder.

I'm sorry you have to grieve alone at your workplace. My co-workers at the time were incredibly compassionate and even expressed surprise that I came to work the next day. I understand what you're saying, though. Many people don't understand the sadness of losing a beloved pet. I'm glad you're talking about it here, where there are so many caring people.

It took a long time but nowadays when I think of my Tess, I remember the pretty little dog that charmed everyone who met her. There will come a day when you no longer dwell on the sadness of Suki's death but remember the great friend and companion she was. Take care.

Carolyn