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Daryl
66 years old
Gender Not Set
Location Unknown
Born Jan-27-1958
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Writing, sci-fi, travel stories, animals, animal communication, Nature, stargazing, daydreaming, hypnosis, cats, dogs, animals (did I mention that already?).
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Joined: 29-September 04
Profile Views: 1,691*
Last Seen: 20th December 2005 - 05:19 PM
Local Time: Mar 29 2024, 04:38 AM
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Daryl

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8 Apr 2005
Hello, old friends and new.

It's been a while since I've been here. I always feel guilty for being away, but I've needed the respite from tears, grief and loss. I'm sure you know how that goes.

This truly is one of the most wonderful and special sites in cyberspace, though. I've never found anything other than love, support, and comfort here, and I challenge anyone to find a finer group of people anywhere. (And that is the reason I always come back!)

Today, I finally get to share some good news: we've just arranged to adopt a new puppy!

She's just a baby -- only 2 weeks old, so we've got to wait a while before we can bring her home. She's a miniature cream-colored long-haired dachshund, from a line especially bred for their sweet, gentle nature. We haven't even been able to hold her yet, but we're already as giddy as a new parent could be!

Thanks again to everyone here who helped me through my times of grief. I hope those who are going through pain and loss today will be able to take home from this: eventually, in its own time, the grief becomes bearable and you'll find yourself ready to risk falling in love again.


Love and blessings to you all,

-- Daryl
15 Oct 2004
*****HI EVERYONE............ANOTHER POST THAT I WANTED TO BRING BACK FOR ALL THE NEWCOMERS..Love, Denise xo****


Hi friends,

I'm very sorry that I haven't been offering much support in here lately. I read the messages, feel everyone's pain and loss, and the words just don't come out from me.

I wonder if I've hit emotional burnout?

I go through the day as though I'm picking at my plate. At work, I try to write the latest report I have due, but only manage a sentence or two before my concentration evaporates. Before long, I find myself surfing the Internet, visiting favorite forums, looking for distraction. This is NOT good -- my employer monitors our computer activities and knows how much time we spend online! But part of me just doesn't care. I'm tired of being responsible. I'm tired of having to try to plod through a normal daily life while dealing with grief after grief. It's been going on for 6 years -- too long! My wife's cancer, Smokey's death, then Kela's, then Lilly's, now Kirby's. Of our two remaining cats, Summer (17 yrs old) still needs fluids and meds every other day, and now that the weather's getting colder the arthritis in his back seems to be bothering him more.

It's like a marathon that never stops. All the while, daily life goes on --we're in the middle of multiple critical product tests at work, and I hardly have any vacation time even if I COULD take it now. On top of that, most people don't even comprehend the grief of losing a pet! "Oh, that's too bad. Well, you'll get another one soon, won't you?" "I'm sorry about your dog. Do you think you'll have that report done today?"

I start to get better for a while, I'll have maybe an hour's worth of truly productive time, and then all the wind goes out of my sails again.

Sorry to whine. Everyone on this board is hurting, after all -- you don't need to hear my sniveling. But how long am I going to feel stuck in this fogged-in I-don't-care-about-anything state? Others here must be going through this, too? What do you do to snap out of it?


-- Daryl
2 Oct 2004
Do you ever feel that your animal friends have come back to visit you after they've crossed that Rainbow Bridge?


Most of you have already seen me talk about my childhood cat, Snooper, and how my parents had her euthanized while I was away at college and I never got to say good-bye.

Shortly after my college graduation, I moved from Michigan to Indianapolis to begin my first "real" job. I was in a new city where I knew no-one. Feeling lonely, I began to think about getting a cat. With that thought came another: it HAD to be a gray kitten! Nothing else would do.

Why a gray kitten? I'd never even thought about wanting one sort of a cat over another before. I was always more swayed by whether or not there seemed to be a deeper connection than by surface features. But the inner voice was insistent: GRAY!

I searched all the pounds, visited all the pet shops. No gray kittens, not even any gray adults. I gave up the search and went to visit my parents at my childhood home where they still lived at the time. It was the 4th of July weekend, 1981. After I got there, I happened to mention my gray cat quest.

"Oh, you should have been here two days ago," said Mom. "The cutest little gray kitten just walked right up to the door like she owned the place! But she probably won't be back."

"I think she will," my sister grinned. She'd put food out for the kitten without telling Mom.

Sure enough, the gray kitten came back. I carried her all over the neighborhood to see if she belonged to anyone, but nobody had seen her before. I didn't expect anyone to claim her, though. Something inside said I'd found the one I was looking for.

Smokey and I bonded quickly and deeply. I was hers, she made that perfectly clear. Over the 18 years we were together, I saw so many uncanny similarities in her mannerisms and personality that I became convinced she could be Snooper, come back for another go at life with me.

Smokey's death was the first I'd had to face head-on as an adult. I had to have her put down, and I was devastated for weeks afterward. As my grief began to subside, though, Smokey began appearing in my dreams. Each time she arrived, the dream would suddenly become vivid and lucid. Each time it happened I said to her, "Smokey! You died, but you've come back to see me!" And each dream had the very clear sense of being a visitation, that she'd come by specifically to check in on me and say hello.

I thought the same thing would happen when Kela died. She and I became extra-close after Smokey's passing, and Kela was with me for 21 of her 22 years on this planet. But it was different with her. It took over a year before I began dreaming about Kela, and when those dreams did come they didn't have that same strong sense of visitation about them.

I never did dream of Lilly, who was with me only 4 short months.

As for dear Kirby, well, it seems perhaps she hit the beach running and hasn't yet paused to look back.

-- Daryl
29 Sep 2004
Hi,

I'm new here -- tried the petloss.com site, but ran into endless technical problems. I don't need problems this morning!

Our dear Jack Russell, Kirby, makes her final trip to the veterinarian's office today. For over a month we've been walking a tightrope of treatment and worry between heart and kidney diseases. Now, her abdomen's begun to fill with fluids and blood. She's in the "end stage" of heart disease, or her liver's begun to fail. She's only 13 -- we weren't expecting to have to face this with her for several more years.

This is our fourth loss of a companion animal in the last 5 years, our third euthanasia. It's become an all-too-familiar emotional landscape, but it's still just as hard as the first time. I somehow fell asleep last night, but awoke early with Kirby as my first thought. My wife didn't get to sleep until 3:00 in the morning.

We'd had Kirby on reduced doses of heart medication in order to try to protect her kidneys. Because of the fluid ac%%ulation, our vet upped her dosage yesterday evening to help make her more comfortable. This morning, she ate eagerly for the first time in weeks. (We've been mostly force-feeding her as we tried to adjust her medications.) So, she's going to look as if she's improving today, which is going to make that trip to the vet's office even harder. There's still a corner of my mind that wants to hope, that grasps every possible straw and says, "Hey! She's EATING! That's a good sign, right?? She's on her way to being bouncy and happy and silly again! Now we don't have to do this!"

I wish!

But my rational side knows that the improvement is only temporary. At the dosages we're giving her to make her feel this good, it will only be a couple of days before the pendulum swings the other direction and her kidneys fail. Then we'll be right back where we are now, and she'll be that much more miserable, will have suffered that much longer.

I know these things. But it's still SO HARD! It's the most awful thing in the world, to have to make an appointment for a dear loved-one's death. I crave hugs and support, but there aren't enough hugs in the world for this.

I'm sorry. Babbling. You've all been through this. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know first-hand. I'm sorry you know these feelings. I'm also glad to have a place to express them.

Daryl
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