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Carrie77
46 years old
Female
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Born Nov-25-1977
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Joined: 31-March 13
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Last Seen: 10th April 2013 - 10:23 AM
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Carrie77

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31 Mar 2013
Hello everyone,

I am a new member of this site, I just registered today. I was given this site on advice of my vet on dealing with the sudden loss of my furbaby yesterday afternoon. I’m a single 35 year old woman, live on my own, and Pepper was the reason I always looked forward to coming home.

Pepper would have been 10 in June. She was a Chihuahua with the sweetest, quietest temperament. No small dog syndrome here. I volunteer with dog rescue and she was one of the lucky ones that came through our group. I didn't choose her, she chose me. She came from a situation where she was bullied by her brother, crated most of her life, and I'm pretty sure she was abused. She spent almost 4 years with me and was the happiest little thing that laughed a lot, smiled a lot and was full of personality and never ceased to make me laugh.

About a week ago, she fell ill and began vomiting. 2 days later, she seemed to be in pain so I brought her to the vet and since I couldn't afford the outrageous bills to run test after test to try to find out what was wrong, I was sent home with some meds to coat her stomach as the vet noticed she was sensitive in her abdominal area, and some special food that would be easy on her system. They also gave her some fluids under the skin as she was dehydrated. Over the next couple days, she seemed to perk up a bit and I was hopeful.

Then, this past Thursday, she fell ill again and started vomiting again. I opted to keep her home a couple days, knowing I couldn't afford the vet bills, in hopes she would come around again on her own. She was congested, she was throwing up, she wasn’t eating and barely drinking. I had stepped out for a short bit on Saturday and upon return, the weirdest feeling came over me. I heard a voice in my head tell me very clearly to go and lay with her. So I did, I laid out all my bath towels to make a bed, got her favorite blanket from the sofa, laid on the floor in the fetal position and tucked her into my chest. This seemed to sooth her as her breathing slowed and I could feel her relax. About 15 minutes later, she began seizuring. I cried and talked to her the whole time, told her it was ok to go, mummy was here and mummy loves her. I cradled her in my arms as she took her last breath.

I opted not to have her ashes returned to me. I feel like it was just her body that I brought to the vet’s, but in fact her spirit will always remain with me. I know guilt is part of the grieving process, but I can’t help it. While the vet did offer to do blood tests when I had her there the first time, the results wouldn’t have been back in time. And even if they were, I couldn’t afford the care anyways. And yet, I still feel guilt. The ‘what if’s’ are a hard part of the grieving process. I’ll never know if she spent her last week in pain. I’ll never know if there was more I could have done to make her comfortable, or even save her.

How does one deal with the guilt?
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5 Apr 2013 - 12:50

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