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zoeysdad
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zoeysdad

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9 May 2005
It's a shame, but I can no longer come here and find the peace and comfort I've come to expect from LS. I've encouraged Abby's Mom, CheriAnn, and Ann all to stay and not be driven away by the ill will of a few, only to find myself fed up with the whole situation and face the reality that this site has been tainted and will simply never be the same, at least for me.

I've met many wonderful, kind, caring, people here and and I'll always be grateful for all the help I've been given over the past eight months. I have always tried my best to help as many people as I possibly could while dealing with my own grief and I truly hope I've helped all the people I have replied to, even if it was just in a small way. I know my heart was always in the right place and I can honestly say I've never said anything on this board that was meant to hurt anyone.

This site was once a refuge for everyone who had lost a beloved pet and it was very comforting to know we could come here and talk about our feelings without being judged harshly and made to feel stupid for loving and missing our pets so much. My first post here was on Aug. 24, 2004 and I was in desperate need of help and understanding. I had lost my best friend, my buddy of almost twelve years and no one but the people here seemed to understand what I was going through.

In my first post here, I stated I had buried my dog in the backyard but I was missing him so much I had thought about digging him up just so I could hold him one more time---that's how bad I was hurting and I would have done almost anything, no matter how crazy to have him back. Luckily, no one told me I was crazy, in fact, many people said they had had the same feelings, which helped to put my mind at ease. The last thing a grieving person needs is to be made to feel stupid or crazy....where is the comfort and support in that?

Although I have REPLIED to hundreds of posts in the eight months I've been here, this is only about the fifth time I have actually POSTED. Helping others helped me deal with my own grief and that is what has worked for me. Others need to post more because that's what seems to help them the most....we are all different and different methods work for different people.

And we all know that there are always going to be people who are never satisfied no matter what you do. I find it irritating that there are people who lurk about, monitoring the board, never offering any real comfort, understanding, or support to anyone (on the board), but always waiting to pounce on anyone with whom they don't agree. This is clearly not what this board was intended for but that seems to be exactly what has been happening lately.

Like Ann, Abby's Mom, CheriAnn, Pamela, and Steph...I think it's time to move on and let all the new members bond with each other as we did and maybe LS can once again become the "shelter from the storm" for people who are heartbroken over the loss of a beloved pet.

LS has served its purpose well for me and I will be forever grateful to MD Cohn for making this site available for so many years. I will leave my "Tribute to Little Man" in the memorial section of this website and visit it from time to time, it's something that will always be special to me and I hope others who read it will find it helpful in some way too.

I leave here with no hard feelings toward anyone....I wish everyone the best and I hope to hear from all of my old friends from time to time.

May everyone have the peace and love we all need.

__Jim
27 Sep 2004
Hi Everyone,

After a little nudge from Patti, (gingerspal) I decided to post this as a new thread. I posted it earlier as an addition to my thread wishing Little Man a happy 12th birthday, but (we) thought it would have a better chance of being read if it were posted as a new thread.

I wanted to thank all of you for helping me wish Little Man a happy birthday and for all of your kind words of support. Overall, I made it through his birhtday pretty well--a few smiles, a few tears, but I tried to stay busy and not dwell too much on thinking about how much I miss him.

Today has been a different story. Those of you who have read my "tribute" to Little Man in the "tribute, memorial," section of this website are familiar with the story of how I built him a box to sit in while we were riding the tractor around the farm to do various jobs. I haven't used that tractor since I lost Little Man. I have a newer one (the seat on it was big enough for the both of us) and I've been using that one. I keep the old one in the barn with a tarp over it to keep it from getting dusty. It's kind of a family heirloom, which I inherited from my grandpa. This morning the newer tractor wouldn't start so I went to the barn to get the old one. When I pulled the tarp off it and climbed upon the seat, I look to my right and there was that little box with the pillow in it and I just '"lost it.' I sat there and cried like a baby. It was uncontrollable. I didn't think I had been holding any feelings back over his loss, but apparently I had been.

After it was all over, I felt much better. I guess it was the "healing" kind of cry that I have heard other posters speak of. Maybe that means I'm one step further with the grieving process. I did manage to use the tractor to do my work and after I finished, I thought I should remove the little box--that maybe that would help bring some closure, but I just couldn't do it. I'm just not ready yet. I guess I'll know when the time is right--if ever.

I think the reason I'm having such a hard time with his loss is because he was with me 24/7. He was always with me inside the house, but he also was with me while I did my work outside. Even when I went into town to get feed, supplies, etc., he was with me, sitting in the seat of the pick-up with me---not in the back. He was my best buddy, always there by my side and even now, I am constantly "looking" for him and expecting him to be there. I makes me feel so empty and incomplete when I don't see him there.

It was a bad day and I guess I needed to vent a little. It does help so much to just talk about how I feel. And it helped a great deal to hear from all of you.

Libby, (Dieter'smom). I liked the comment: "There's a grand plan in place that our human minds cannot comprehend." I believe that too. We always try to "make sense" of everything, but some things will only be understood when the grand plan unfolds. "I walk this walk with you" was also comforting to hear. Thank you.

Carol. You lost Max the same day I lost Little Man. I like what you said about them going over the bridge together--how they'll have each other and be buddies forever. That is a comforting thought, and since they were both Lhasa's, they have a lot in common. I wish I had a picture to show you of Little Man after he had just come from the groomer. He looked so much like the picture you have posted of Max.

Steph. Thanks for all your words of support. For some reason I find just looking at the pic you have posted of your beautiful Luba comforting. That face has personality! How did you come to name her Luba? I like the name, but I've never heard it before.

j4lorn. It was good to hear you feel the same way about Jake as I did Little Man. I think the world would be a much better place if people were more like their (pets). It doesn't sound insane to me at all.

Patti. I agree with Chrissy, I had never heard the phrase "when the student is ready, the teacher will appear." That is so true. Yes, we were the students and we were incredibly blessed to have had such great teachers. I'm so thankful you are a regular here on LS--you always know just what to say and you have helped so many of us. God Bless You!

Stymy's mom. (Vic) You have been very supportive of my loss and were one of the first to respond when I came here for help. You've helped more than you know and I haven't ruled out the advice you gave me in your email. (no, I don't think you're a nut) I hope you'll post a pic of Stymy someday so we can all see what he looks like.

DJ. I recently read some of your previous posts and I must say I'm completely in awe of you. You are a wise person and have the uncanny ability to see "the big picture." When we begin to feel sorry for ourselves, you serve as an inspiration to us all. We should all have your outlook on life.

Chrissy. Many thanks to you for all your help. I like the pic of your Indy too. Indiana Jones---that name just "fits." I've read some of your past posts and you seem to have come a long way. I'm glad you're still here to help the rest of us.

littlebit's mom. (Sherry) The way you lost littlebit was a true tragedy. The way you found this website was a little strange too. But you found us and I'm glad we were able to help you and you are now helping others too. Thanks for your support. I'm looking forward to seeing littlebit's pic.

Once again, thanks to all of you for all your help. You have each helped in your own way and I am truly thankful to have your support.

__Jim
22 Sep 2004
In Loving Memory of Little Man
September 22, 1992---August 18, 2004

Today is your 12th birthday but it is also the five week anniversary of your passing from this earth. I'm happy because I remember all your previous birthdays and all the great times we had together. But I'm also sad because I miss you so terribly. You were only about four months old when you came into my life a bit unexpectedly and there you stayed for almost twelve years. If you were still here on earth on this special day, I would do lots of special things for you; but since you are not, I must do something a little different this year.

First of all, I wanted to do something to honor your memory. I ordered you a momument last week, (though it'll be about two weeks before it's ready)--and I think you'll like it. It will serve as a reminder to all who see it that you once graced this world with your presence and that you were much loved in life and greatly missed in death. And secondly, I made a donation in honor of your memory to this website because I believe you had a (paw) in helping me find this site because you knew I was going to need a lot of help from some very special people to help me cope with the pain of losing you.

I also wanted to take this time to thank God for lending you to me for almost twelve years. He knew I needed your love, but I also believe he used you as a tool to show me what love really is and how to determine what's really important in life and what's not. (A big thank you to Patti, (gingerspal) for helping me to realize this)

I suppose the kind of love you and I had for each other is a tough act to follow for any other prospects----human or animal. Your journey here on earth has ended---mine hasn't. So with a heavy heart and a weary mind, I must continue my journey without my best friend walking by my side. I carry you in my heart now, but my journey is much more lonesome than it used to be. But then I try to imagine what my life would have been like if I had never known you and that's when I remember what a precious gift from God you were and how having you enriched my life more than I could have ever hoped for. If it was indeed your purpose here on earth to show me what love is, then I must congratulate you, Little Man, on a job well done.

Happy 12th birthday, Little Man. I MISS YOU! I send you all my love and a heartfelt thank you for always being there for me during the most difficult times of my life. But most of all, thank you for being my best friend. I'll always cherish your memory and the love you gave so freely.
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3 Sep 2004
In Loving Memory of Little Man
September 22, 1992 August 18, 2004


When I first saw you, you were in the arms of a friend of mine who was begging me to "dog sit" you for a few weeks because he and his family were relocating. I reluctantly agreed only after making sure you were already housebroken. He told me his little girl had named you Zoey, a girl's name for a male dog. After about a month, my friend called and said they were unable to find a home that allowed pets, so they were forced to lease a home that didn't allow pets. He then asked me if I would try to find you a good home somewhere. I agreed and even went so far as to place an ad in the paper. But who was I trying to kid? You had stolen my heart after the first few days. I cancelled the ad and this is where our twelve year journey together began.

The local vet's office already had you on file under the name of "Zoey", so I never bothered to change it. From day one, I started calling you Little Man and I think you liked that name much better. We were an odd looking pair I'm sure. I was country to the bone----pickup truck, blue jeans, work boots, living on a few acres way out in the country. You were a Lhasa Apso---a fancy looking little dog---looking more like uptown Fifth Avenue--New York City. You were a pedigree with AKC papers to prove it. But you never tried to act like royalty--you adapted to country living just fine. The only problem was that naturally long white fluffy hair of yours, with its natural part down the middle. That just didn't gel real well with country living, which resulted in my giving you some really bad "home" haircuts. It didn't matter how bad the haircut was, as long as I told you you looked pretty, that was good enough for you. I did splurge a few times a year and take you to the groomer to have a professional hair cut. But they always put a bandana on you and oh how you hated that.

In the beginning, I got a lot of kidding from the guys because you just didn't look like a "guy" kind of dog. If I had gone in search of a dog, I probably wouldn't have given you a second look. Proof that one should never judge anything on looks alone. I think in the beginning, the reason I was so drawn to you was your intelligence. I had never known such a smart dog. It became kind of strange--it's like we always knew what each other was thinking or feeling. In no time at all, I grew to love you like you were my child and you were completly devoted to me. My friends soon learned the fastest way to get on the fighting side of me was to say something negative about my dog.

No matter what I was doing, you wanted to be right beside me. As long as you were with me, that's all that seemed to matter to you. After I took you on your first tractor ride I knew I had really started something. I finally had to build a little box, with a pillow in it of course, for you to sit in while "we" mowed, brush-hogged, or baled hay. Oh, how you loved that! You'd be hot with your tongue hanging out, but you were loving every minute of it and I think it was mainly because you were with me. That, of course, made me feel very special. I've had more than one love interest accuse me of thinking more of you than I did them. In all honesty, it was true. But hey, you were much easier to love than they were and you weren't nearly as demanding. It didn't take much to make you happy; they it seemed, were never satisfied. Others came and went----you stayed--you were my rock, the one I could always count on, no matter what.

You could be ornery at times though. Like the time we had company coming and I gave you a bath, used a blowdryer to dry you hair, then painstakingly brushed your hair. Then when nature called and I let you outside, you went directly to the pasture and rolled in a freshly made cow patty. I could have killed you! But instead, I found the humor in it and got my camera and took a picture of you looking that way. It turned out to be one of my favorite pictures. One of many pictures I took of you over the years but no longer have in my possesion. I only have two photos of you now and they were given to me by friends who had taken them. I will remedy that situation someday, but that's another story.

I remember how I had to be very careful about petting other dogs. If I came home with the scent of another dog on me, you'd get an attitude and go behind the couch and pout. Only after I showered, changed clothes and then apologized would you have anything to do with me. I remember thinking on the way home, "Little Man's gonna be mad". I felt like a cheating husband who had come home smelling of another woman's perfume. It really brings a smile to my face when I remember how crazy it all was.

You were so much a part of my life and daily routine. I miss everything about you and I was completely unprepared to give you up. When you became sick, it was so sudden. When we went to bed that night, you were fine. When I woke up the next morning, I picked you up and placed you on the floor like always. But after I had gotten to the kitchen, I noticed you hadn't followed me. Then I saw you tryng to come down the hallway, but you kept falling down. I ran over and picked you up then I tried to help you stand, but I could tell your entire left side was almost completely paralyzied.

I rushed you to the vet and they ran lots of tests and finally told me I should consider having you euthanized. They couldn't do anything to help you. I was in shock and devastated. I picked you up and took you back home--determined I was going to find a way to help you. I made your favorite foods that night and you seemed to have a really good appetite. I'd take you outside, but you couldn't stand up unless I helped hold you up. Then on the second day, I could tell you were in pain because you'd whimper when I touched you. I just couldn't stand the thought of you being in pain and in a moment of clarity, I decided the only thing I could do to help you was to end your pain.

For twelve years, I had been taking you to the same vet. You hated to go there and you'd start trembling as soon as we walked in the door. This last time, for the first time ever, you didn't tremble even slightly. You just sat on my lap with your head held high and didn't seem to be afraid at all. I remember how strange I thought that was. Then I realized this was your way of telling me it was ok--it was the right thing to do. You were always a great communicator and always great at comforting me. Even on this terrible day, you weren't thinking of yourself; as always, you were thinking of me.

I brought you home and buried you in the flower garden behind the house because you always loved to play there. After I dug your grave and placed you in the ground, I felt like I had died too. Everything seemed different---nothing was the same. Nothing made sense. I was in a fog and just couldn't seem to find a way to deal with this. Everything had happened so fast. My whole world had crumbled.

When I walked into the house, I realized just how important your presence had been. Everything seemed connected to you in some way. Your water bowl, collar, leash, toys, milkbone and other treats you had hidden all over the house---your presence was everywhere, but you were now out in the garden and the reality of it all just wouldn't sink in. I still haven't washed the shirt I was wearing when I took you to the vet for the last time. Sometimes I pick it up and smell it---just trying to get as close to you as I can I guess.

I write this tribute to you because I want there to be a record of your life. I want it to be known that the twelve years you spent here on this earth were years well spent. You loved and you were loved. You mattered and you cared. And you are missed greatly. You made a difference in my life and as much as it hurt to let you go, I don't regret one single moment of having you. It was a tremendous honor to be your Dad and I'll always cherish the love you gave so freely. You will never be forgotten.

It's been a little over two weeks since I buried you. I now face the fact that I'm never going to have your 'physical' presense here on earth anymore. Many people had told me you would continue to live in my heart and mind, but in the beginning, I didn't really comprehend the meaning of that. I think I have now come to understand. It's true, I haven't really lost you---I still have you, just in a different way.

I can't see you with my eyes anymore, but I can see you in my mind.
I can't touch you with my hands, but I can feel you in my heart.
I can't hold you in my arms, but I can hold you in my dreams.
And above all, I can and will remember you with all my love.

Rest in peace Little Man.

My love always, Dad
24 Aug 2004
I just stumbled across this website because I'm out of my mind with grief over the loss of my beloved dog, Zoey. He was a male Lhasa Apso, yes, with a girl's name. He had already been named by a little girl when I got him, so I never changed it. Anyway, I always called him my "little man". I lost him on Aug. 18th, so it'll be a week tomorrow and I had hoped things would get better, but they seem to be getting worse. I had had him for twelve years and I can't even begin to imagine a life without him. He had always been so healthy and very agile for a twelve year old dog, so it came as a complete surprise when he became sick, overnight, and after I rushed him to the vet and was told nothing could be done to save him, my whole world fell apart.
I brought him back home to spend a few more cherished days with him, but I could tell he was in pain and suffering, though he tried to be brave for me. I finally realized that the most loving thing I could do for him was to end his pain. Having him put to sleep was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. No parent could love a child more than I loved him. I brought his little body back home, wrapped in his favorite quilt, and dug his grave in the garden behind our home. He loved to play there and I knew that's where he would want to be placed.
Since I'm a man, I can't seem to find a way to express my grief to most people in my circle without sounding like a wimp, but after finding this site, I'm hoping someone can tell me that this unbearable pain I'm feeling will some how get better. My whole life has changed without him--I don't even want to come home from work anymore because I know he won't be there to greet me and I can't stand the thought of never seeing or holding him again. It's so bad, the second day after his death, I went to his grave and in a moment of complete insanity, I thought about digging him up just so I could hold him one more time. I came to my senses and didn't do it but I'm beginning to wonder if my grief is normal. I just can't stop thinking about him. Someone, please tell me how to get through this without losing my mind.
---Jim
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