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Caroline
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Joined: 12-January 05
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Caroline

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4 Feb 2006
Dearest Lucy,

It was one year ago today that we made the painful decision to end your suffering. It has been a hard year, with many changes, but one thing remains a constant...we miss you terribly. I miss so many things about you...your sweet and gentle nature, your soulful eyes, your constant and unrelenting loyalty and love, the way you would bury your face into my shoulder and give me hugs, the sweet smell of your fur. These things make me happy to think of, but they also make me sad, because they are the things that make me long for you.

When we got you, you were just a little peanut of a baby. You were so young and needed us for so many things. We were happy to oblige. You were our first baby. As you became older, it was you who wanted to care for and protect us. You did your job well, and we loved you for it.

We loved to indulge you in your favorite things, like swims in the ocean and extra treats. It was so hard for me when the vet wanted you to go on a diet. I hated to deprive you of your nightly biscuit. We had a good life together, and we were happy.

Then around Thanksgiving, you became so sick. You stopped eating, which wasn't like you at all. You became jaundiced, and we knew there was something wrong. For a month we did not know what it was, only that you were still not eating and didn't seem yourself. The vet did not know what was wrong. Your liver and spleen were swollen, but other tests were inconclusive.

Soon after that, I received the phone call from hell. The vet told me that you had lymphoma. It was the same disease that had killed my grandfather in less than 2 weeks from his diagnosis. I knew it was bad. I couldn't believe it because you were only five years old. You were way too young for this. You didn't have long...only a couple of weeks, probably six at most. My heart crashed and my world fell apart right then and there.

It was a death sentence. I came home to you, buried my face in your neck and cried for hours. In a way, it was you who comforted me as I faced the unthinkable. We spent the next few weeks doing things you loved, like taking trips to the beach, eating yummy meat, and just spending time with each other. Those times are so precious to me.

On that Friday, I knew you were nearing the end. You looked so sad, and your belly was swollen with cancer. A liitle blood dripped from your nose and you stumbled coming down the stairs. We knew it was time. The vet came to our house, and as you lay in our arms, you calmly let the needle slide in. As you drifted away, I realized what a beautiful moment I had witnessed.

Then you were gone. No more breathing, nothing. I screamed and cried and pounded the floor. I wanted you back so badly. I felt anger and loss that I had never felt before. You were my baby, and you had passed right before my eyes.

When you died, my life changed forever. You taught me lessons I will never forget, like how to live in the moment, to love and enjoy the things in life that are really important, and most importantly, the value of unconditional love.

I want you to know on the one year anniversary of your passing, I love you more than ever, and you will never be forgotten. You are my Lu-Lu, my Lucy-Goose. I know I will see you again one day. I have to believe that. In the meantime, I will live for you, and enjoy my life the way I know you would want me to.

I love you baby. You are so missed and you were such a special girl. Please know that I think about you every day, and that while the pain of your loss has subsided, the memory of you will never, ever leave me, no matter how old I live to be.

Yours always, Mommy (Daddy, Connor, Molly and Charlotte too)
28 Jul 2005
I am coming up on the 6 month anniversary of the death of my chocolate lab Lucy who passed away on Feb. 4th of lymphoma at the age of 5. I miss her terribly still. This website was a savior for me as I waded through the intense grief that accompanied her illness and death. We have adopted a dog from the shelter who was on his "last days" and he has brought some happiness back to our lives but I still miss Lucy like crazy. I miss you so much Lucy girl. Your time on earth was too short, but I will be eternally grateful for all the days we had together.

I don't write much here anymore, but found a nice poem about homeless cats that I thought all of you as pet lovers could appreciate...May God bless all of you as you grieve for the loss of your special furbabies...

Take care, Caroline

Stray Cat

Oh, what unhappy twist of fate
Has brought you, homeless, to my gate
The gate where once another stood
To beg for shelter, warmth and food?
For from that day I ceased to be
The master of me destiny,
While she, with purr and velvet paw
Became, within my house, The Law.
She scratched the furniture and shed
And claimed the middle of my bed.
She ruled in arrogance and pride
And broke my heart the day she died.
So if you really think, oh cat
I'd willingly relive all that
Because you come, forlorn and thin
Well-don't just stand there- come
on in!
by Francis Witham
9 Apr 2005
I feel very sad today as my chocolate lab Lucy would have been six years old today. She passed away on February 4th after a brave struggle with lymphoma. We still miss her so much and light a candle for her every Friday night (the night of the week she passed). In some ways, it seems like a lifetime ago that we were nursing her through her last days. In other ways, it seems like it was just yesterday. I am afraid I will forget the way she looked at me, the way she smelled, the way she was. I know I will never forget her, but I want her to know that she will never be forgotten.

Life just isn't the same without Lucy Lou. She was such a special girl. I guess I am done asking why this happened to her, to us. Now I think I am just grateful that we had her in our lives at all. Her collar and ashes still sit on our buffet table. I am not near ready to take them down. I still find great comfort in looking up and seeing her belongings.

This website has provided me with much comfort through the grieving stages. Although I don't write or post as much as I used to, I still read it almost every day. The people here got me through some very dark days, and through my own experience with Lucy, I hope to extend that comfort to others who are starting on their own sad journey. Thanks for listening...I just wanted to take a minute to remember my Lucy on her special day, and to once again thank all of you for your support...

Caroline
21 Mar 2005
Hi all-

well, since Lucy died the house has been so quiet. We adopted a dog (adult male) from the shelter and brought him home on Friday. He is a truly sweet and wonderful dog...with humans. As we found out, he has major aggression around other dogs (both male and female) and needs to be physically restrained. He has also tried chasing our resident cat (she is safe upstairs where the new dog "Fergus" does not have access to her). Needless to say, I am stressed out and worried if we made the right decision. He is so great with us and the kids. He is truly loving and gentle. But around other animals, it is a totally different story.

I have contacted an animal behaviorist at the SPCA and haven't heard back yet. I would hate to send him back to the shelter as we pretty much rescued him the day befpre he was scheduled to be put down. On the other hand, I don't want to get any more attached to him than I already have.

In the midst of all this, I am missing my Lucy because she was such an easy dog. She got along with everyone. I am feeling sad, confused, and hopeful that it will still work...You have all been such a support to me over the past few months. Does anyone have any wisdom or advice they might shed on this situation?

Thanks, Caroline
10 Mar 2005
Hi-

I haven't posted in awhile but as I have been dealing with the grieving process, I have noticed something that I am curious about. My lab Lucy died about 5 weeks ago, and while I know I am not ready for a new dog right now, I find myself obsessively searching local shelter websites and pet ads. I think I miss having Lucy so much that I want the presence of a dog, any dog, so badly because I think it will take some of the pain away. I am not even sure what I am really searching for...all I know is that for some reason, I keep looking to see what kind of cats and dogs there are out there. Then I get into a sad place by looking at all of these sweet faces who desperately need to be adopted and I know I cannot save them. So not only am I grieving Lucy, but I find myself grieving for all of these nameless animals, mainly because common wisdom tells me that many of them will be euthanised as there are simply not enough homes available for them. I feel helpless, just like I did when the vet told me that Lucy had advanced lymphoma. Total and utter helplessness...

I was just wondering if anyone else had experienced this after the loss of their furbaby. Why am I doing this to myself?

Thanks for listening...Caroline
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