I can’t believe I’m writing on a website but it seems this is a good place to express emotions that the rest of the world thinks are ridiculous.

I lost my sweet, gentle, beautiful little 8 year old Golden Retriever, Peggy, very suddenly 2 weeks ago. Okay, it was 2 weeks, 2 days and 40 minutes ago. She was always a bit fragile/delicate but that Friday morning, I was working from home and around 10:30,noticed she seemed to be having difficulty breathing. I grabbed her leash so I could rush her to the vet and of course, as soon as she realized she was going for a ride, she had a ‘miraculous recovery’. Her quick change confused me a bit but not wanting to take any chances, I put her in the car and called the vet to tell them we were on our way. After a through exam and numerous tests, the vet determined her lungs were inflamed and they diagnosed asthma - but aside from that, she was in perfect health. Okay, never heard of a dog having that (and I’ve been surrounded by animals my whole life) but fine, at least we know what’s causing the periodic breathing problems. I brought her home and she appeared to be fine.

Just before 7:00 that evening, I came home from a quick run to the store (my mother lives with me and I left her home with Mom since I’d noticed she had experienced a brief gasp-y event just before I left). The vet said the ‘asthma’ wasn’t severe and to just keep her quiet and have her rest if she seemed to be bothered by it, so it seemed best to leave her home. When I came in, for the first time in the (almost) 6 years she’s been with me, she didn’t greet me at the door. Or come out to greet me while I unloaded the car. When I finished bringing things in, I called to her and went to look for her. We finally connected in the living room – but she was acting a bit strange. After a very subdued greeting (unusual for her), I sat on the sofa, watching her walk toward the kitchen. At the entrance to the kitchen, she stopped, slowly turned around and with a glazed look in her eyes, started doing a Frankenstein-dog like walk back in my direction. She staggered a bit, walked past me and then took the long way to the kitchen. There, she staggered up to my mother, tried to make eye contact, gave a slight wag of her tail and then collapsed on the floor. In a panic, I grabbed the phone to call my neighbor for help (she’s a vet, just not practicing from an office right now) and ran to Peggy. My poor little girl was struggling to breath and was clearly in grave condition. My neighbor rushed over, listened to her heart, checked her other vitals and confirmed I needed to get her to Tufts Animal Hospital immediately. We carried her to the back of my Tahoe and I took off for the emergency room while Mom called to tell them her symptoms and to have a gurney ready.

At Tufts, they took her out of the back of my car and she looked so scared. I placed my hand on her head while running beside the gurney and she locked eyes with me, with a pleading look to not let them take her. As they went through the doors into the exam room, I had to remove my hand and with what little strength she had, she raised her paw, placing it on my coat sleeve and then pushed downward and tried to pull me toward her. Broke my heart. Twenty minutes later, they told me she was in congestive heart failure and they needed to insert a needled to drain fluid off her heart (turned out to be blood). They performed the procedure twice and then, after about 3 hours, let us go in to see her (my wonderful neighbors drove my mother to Tufts and my youngest brother, who called my mother just before she left the house, also rushed up).

My poor, sweet little girl looked like she had been hit by a train. She struggled to stand and when I went into the kennel run, pressed up against me and collapsed again. She was hooked up to numerous machines, monitoring her condition and pumping fluids into her to counter-act the shock. She was so weak and so scared. We were allowed to visit with her for a while (they never rushed us, God love them) and we were told we could come back to visit her again the next day. When it was time to go, I had to help move her back into the kennel and she looked so betrayed that I was leaving her. I wish there was a way to explain to animals that you sometimes don’t have options when you’re trying to help them. But like children, there’s just no way to help them understand. In Peggy’s case, I know she felt like we were abandoning her (she had a very difficult life before coming to us at the age of 2, she was treated very badly and separation anxiety was something we had worked through with her several years ago but I saw it in her eyes when we were leaving that night).

We left her just after midnight, got home at 12:25 and got a call from the ER Dr. at 12:45, telling us that she wouldn’t make it through the night. Apparently, they had ‘tapped her heart’ numerous times in that 25 minute period but the fluid kept filling up her heart sack almost as fast as they could empty it. I told the Dr we were on our way back up and to do what they could to keep her stable until we got there. Knowing there was no hope and she was going to suffer until they could no longer keep up with the blood, I asked him to have a shot ready but that we wanted to be with her when she passed. We arrived at 1:00 (blowing snow storm made it impossible to get there any faster).

When we arrived, he told us that after speaking with me, he had used a sonar instrument on her heart. They determined that she had tumors on her heart which were bleeding and there was nothing that could be done. Apparently my beautiful girl had undetected cancer of the red blood cells and aside from vague symptoms that never lasted long (and in spite of numerous vet visits over the past 2 years, with me insisting something was wrong), she always appeared to others to be in good health and fooled almost everyone.

When we (brother, mother and I) walked into the room, she was on a surgical table, covered by a bunch of blankets. Including the one I used to bring her to Tufts (my favorite blanket, figured my scent might give her some comfort in the scary setting). The Dr had told us that she was very weak from blood loss and sedated so we shouldn’t expect her to react to us when we went to her. She was facing away from the door and didn’t see us enter. The emergency room staff had placed 3 chairs at the head of the table for us. As I got near, I tossed my coat and purse on a chair and as I moved to her, softly said ‘hi my pretty girl’. Her eyes flew open, she lifted her head, began wagging her tail (under the weight of about 5 blankets she found enough energy to move her tail and you could hear the thunk, thunk, thunk of her tail against the table and see the blankets moving ), looked me in the eye and started whining a greeting to me and then turned her head to look at Mom and Scott as they approached. She looked both of them in the eye while continuing to whine her greeting (there was a specific pitch and cadence she always used when greeting us so we know it was her happy greeting and not pain behind the whine). She was so happy to see us it overrode the low blood pressure, sedation and exhaustion from all she’d been through. Even the Dr was surprised she was able to muster that much energy when she was so far gone. We spent a while patting and talking to her and giving her lots of kisses on her beautiful head. She laid down her head and closed her eyes with a contented sigh, with her head facing Mom in the chair directly in front of her. Scott and I stood on either side of her, to help make her feel surrounded by people that love her and would protect her.

The effort it took for her to do that seemed to drain her entirely. I honestly think she realized she was leaving and just wanted her ‘pack’ with her, instead of strangers in a strange setting. While she loved, and was loved by everybody who ever met her, the 3 of us were the ones she adored most in this world. She was always my shadow (I have a strong personality and know how to be firm without being angry or mean and I think she felt safest with me because of that) but if Mom wasn’t home, she would never comfortably settle until she returned. My bother comes to visit several times a week and she always had a special greeting for him that was a bit more excited than for others. That night, I finally realized that if we waited too long, she was going to go back into distress and I didn’t want her to pass that way – nor did I want her to endure another heart tapping. At 1:20 am on 2/26/2011, the Dr gave my beautiful 8 year old girl a shot and she quietly passed away with a sigh. And a big part of me passed with her. I’m not a crier but it’s been difficult to stop crying since that horrible night. Both Mom and I are lost without her.

What an amazing girl she was – the most gentle, loving, empathetic, patient, tolerant, accepting and compassionate soul I have ever met. She experienced abuse and neglect for the first 2 years of her life and still found the ability to keep a loving and joyful heart that she shared with others. She asked for virtually nothing. She was the lowest maintenance animal I have ever met, especially once we were able to get her past most of her fears (of which there were many when she first came to us). All she wanted was to be allowed to love others and to not be abused. She viewed anything else as ‘bonus points’ and was so grateful for anything we did for her. I know it’s cliché but she gave so much more to us than we gave to her. She was a living example of what we should all be. She accepted life and people with patience, tolerance and love. The fact that she was able to trust people again is a testament to her ability to forgive and live in the moment. I don’t know why I was so blessed to have her in my life, I know I didn’t deserve her but she was the most amazing gift. I wish I could focus on that instead of how much I miss her – and no, I would not trade one moment of my time with her to avoid this pain. I just wish I could stop the tears from flowing. I’ve been surrounded by animal family members all my life and loved them all. However, Peggy was different. I don’t know if it’s because of her background but she forged such a deep bond with me (us, actually) on a level I’ve rarely experienced with a person and never with an animal. She was one of the most amazing creatures God ever put on the planet. Now I just have to figure out how to go on without my constant companion, greatest support and best friend. I'm tried to insert an image so you can see what a beautiful dog she was - both inside and out but it failed. Her essence just shinned through and she smiled almost all the time.

Side note about how sometimes things are just meant to be - when I bought my house, I hadn't had a dog in 3 years (had been in a condo and they weren't allowed). My cat passed several months prior to buying the house and when I moved here, the former owners left behind a 17 year old cat (but didn't tell me, lucky for all of us that I love animals and took him in without knowing he actually lived here before me). Anyway, I wanted a dog but Mom, who's home all day - unlike me, I was working 14 hour days then - didn't have the energy for a puppy. We agreed that getting an older dog would be best. At that time, my niece was 2 years old so I decided that a 2 year old dog, from a kid friendly breed, would be the best way to go - that's how I decided on a Golden. I got the WantAd, took 3 numbers to call and gave 2 to Mom to call. None of my numbers were answering when we started calling but the first one she called was to a breeder who told her the 2 year old dog was very blonde, to which she relied, 'so's my daughter.' The next thing the breeder said was 'her name is Peggy', to which my mother replied 'so's my daughter! Hold that dog for us, she has my daughters name on her and is meant for us!' So, Lady Pegasus, who was known as Peggy came to live with us shortly after. There are 2 morals to the story - 1) if an animal is already branded with your name, it's meant to be yours and it's always fun signing cards From: Peggy The Human and Peggy The Dog 2) don't assume that dealing with a breeder will ensure that the animals are valued and treated properly. This breeder was not a puppy mill but she may as well have been for all the damage they did to my sweet girl before she came to us.

Sorry for the long post and thank you to anyone who had the patience to read it.

Peggy The Human

Dear Peggy's Human

I read yours and Peggy's story with tears in my eyes, as I know what pain you will be feeling over the loss of your precious girl. Please let me send you my heartfelt condolences. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family and your 'Angel Peggy'.

You were with her, and that is what is so important to remember. She will have felt your love and comforting presence.
I'm sure that now she will be trying to comfort you. I have had so many signs from my Angel fur babies over the years that I'm sure the bond that we have with them is never broken.
Please take care of yourself and your Mom, and family. Thats what Peggy will want.

I hope that you can come back here and tell us some more of Peggy's amazing life, and maybe post a photo, if you feel able.
Hugs
Jan and my Angels and Pixie xx

Hi Jan,

Thank you for your kind words and wishes. It's amazing how much love and joy they can bring us - and pain once they're gone. I do think she's 'been around' a few time - just a feeling I've gotten but honestly, the pain is still so fresh I don't think we're noticing much of anything else beyond pain and loss at this point. It's kind of strange to me because I usually have a very philosophical approach to life. I've had to deal with a lot of loss in my life so I know the drill (I don't mean that in a flip way, it's just that there is a process to grief and I've been through it many times). I usually accept the loss, grieve and wait for the pain to pass, usually within a couple of weeks my outlook begins getting better. That's not what's happening in this case. I know she's not really gone and she's in a good place but for the first time ever, I can't stop the feelings of loss and grief. - or more accurately, pain. It reminds me of when my father passed. I could push it aside when I needed to work or deal with others but it would come in intense waves when I was alone and didn't need to present a different face. I need to figure out how to let the pain go. It's not helping anyone and I know she'd be very unhappy if she knew she was 'the cause' for this degree of pain. Her one mission in life was all about love and making sure people and animals felt loved (including the cat I inherited when I bought my house).

I did try to upload a pic but it failed. I think it's too large but I don't know how to decrease the size - my favorite pic of her is 419kb and I guess that's more than the site allows (the other pics are all in that same range). It's too bad because she was such a beautiful girl - her incredible personality is literally shinning through her eyes.

I apologize for being so self-absorbed so far. I want to compliment you on your Avatar. You kids-with-fur are beautiful and that's a great pic to use on this site. You obviously have a very kind and compassionate heart and I thank you for taking time to read our story and offer your supportive condolences.

This is only the second time I've ever commented on a website but I've been reading this one for the past couple of days and like the way everyone treats each other. I will definitely be back. Hopefully, I can get myself to a better place and offer support for others fairly soon. I've almost commeted on a couple today but I think I'm too caught up in my own stuff and don't want to turn someone else's pain into my forum to vent feelings.

Anyway, thank you again. I need to be at work in about 4 hours so I think I'll try to get some sleep.

Take care,

Peggy

Hi, Peggy, please permit me to add my sincerest sympathies in your loss of your beloved Peggy. Losing a beloved companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we have been blessed with the privilege of their company.

Peggy, each physical loss of a beloved companion is unique because of the unique relationship we have shared with them. And each grief journey brings its own load of "baggage" from previous life's experiences - - for grief can arouse emotions from things we thought were long resolved or from things we were subconciously unaware of. The very special bond you shared with your precious Peggy is a contributing factor to the intensity of your grief, and this is normal. And as you know, this grief journey is a one day at a time journey, - - and cannot be rushed. One of the many important things to remember is that you are not alone in your journey. Each of us here do understand what you are feeling, and we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

We would truly enjoy seeing picture(s) of your precious Peggy. You may want to e-mail the L-S Administrator who is ever-willing to help with "technical" issues. He will very graciously assist you in getting picture(s) uploaded.

Peggy, thank you so much for sharing your precious Peggy with us, and look forward to sharing more of your cherished memories of her as you feel up to it. Perhaps in time you and your family will think of a way to honor her memory - - like a memorial scrapbook, or a video / slide show of her earthly journey with you, or a donation to your vet to honor her eternal memory - - whatever that will bring comfort to your heart. And hopefully as your deep grief eases you will know that she is forever with you just as she always has been and always will be - - for she is always a heartbeat close to you.

Peggy, please know you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers, and look forward to knowing how you're doing whenever possible.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Peggy's Human,

I want you to know my thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family on the loss of your precious Peggy. I lost my dog Myah 2 weeks ago, and I came here to tell her story.

You will find strength, comfort, and heartfelt compassions from all on this forum.

Doe

Hi Moon_Beam,

Thank you for reaching out with so much compassion. You're right. My relationship with Peggy was unique. In the past, I've had one or two relationships that were deeper than 'normal' but with Peggy, she blew the standard off the map. She was truly an amazing little soul and the world is quite a bit dimmer without her. I appreciate your advice about contacting the site Admin for assistance uploading her pics. I was disappointed when I was unable to get them to upload. Something about sharing her pics and personality helps ease the pain a bit. I suppose it's having the ability to memorialize her that makes the difference - I'm so grateful to the owners of this site for that. And if he site owner sees this - I thank you from the bottom of my shattered heart.

It's funny that you mentioned doing something to honor her memory. Just yesterday I was discussing with my mother that the 2 cases of food I bought for her the night she passed away needs to be donated to a local shelter (not family or neighbors, I want it to go to animals that are patiently waiting for their forever home and maybe don't get to taste the 'better flavored food' very often, if ever). I've already pulled about 20lbs - not kidding about the amount - of all natural snacks out of the pantry and those will also get donated for the shelter dogs. I'm also planning on donating the cost of her food each month, until we decide to get another dog. - and I will give the shelter a heads-up that's the plan. If I were truly generous and willing to go broke, I'd donate all the money I'd spend on vet bills over the course of the next year. Poor little thing, in the past 3 years she developed severe food allergies, managed to get Lyme disease in spite of my using Frontline at that time - I discontinued the Frontline since I identified it as a contributor to her allergies, then she had several choking issues and some other, less serious events that all led to spontaneous vet visits. Let's just say the vet knew both of us on sight - and I think we put his kids through an Ivy League college. Since none of this was within her control, I never counted these events as 'high maintenance issues'. My poor little girl was so fragile.

I don't think I'm ready to donate her beds yet - but I did force myself to pack 2 of them up and store them in the basement. The thrid is still in the bedroom and I've been avoiding taking it out so far. Not sure why since I had been allowing her to sleep on the bed with me, when she wanted to, this winter so my bed has more recent memories than her little bed. Maybe in the next week or so I'll be able to pack it up.

As of today, I have not been able to bring myself to take her basket of toys out of the laundry room and pack them up. God she loved her toys. I've never met a dog who loved toys the way she did. I bought her a new one almost every week. Not beacuse she destroyed them, she rarely did. I bought them because she was so excited and appreciative when presented with a gift. Which explains why I have 3 huge bags filled with her toys in my basement - we used to cycle toys in and out so her selection was always changing. And she always got to pick which were staying and which were going in the bag. When you gave her a toy, her smile was huge, she'd gently take the toy in her mouth, pause and make eye contact, like she was thanking you, and then turn and happily trot off to the living room where she'd throw herself down and focus on the toy like it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. When she wanted to play, which was every night after her dinner, she'd nose through her basket, select the one she wanted, prance like a proud pony into the living room, lifting her front legs high while prancing. All the while checking to make sure we were watching. She'd then lift both her front legs about 2 feet in the air and slam them on the floor while dropping the rest of her body down, just behind the leg/foot slam. There was always joyful exerberance radiating from her. After throwing herself on the floor, she'd again be looking at us to ensure we were watching and appreciating her show. Then she would start rolling around on her back, using her front legs and paws like hands, to hold the toy while she gently chewed on it. She'd twist her heard around to make eye contact with us and give us a huge smile, from flat on her back. And when she wasn't looking at us, she'd stop and wait to hear us laugh and her tail would start beating a rhythm on the floor. She'd then turn to look at us with a big grin on her face like we were all in on some big joke. After a few minutes of this, she'd be on her back, clutching her toy to her chest with her front legs and paws and then fall into a quick 'cat nap' - usually lasting only a minute or two. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen. Peggy would be on her back, legs hanging to each side while totally exposing her belly while clutching a toy (since Christmas, her favorite as been her teddy bear). I wish I was a camera person and had thought to get a pic of that. Unfortunately, I'm more of a Zen person, living in the moment and don't think of a camera unless there's one right next to me. I do have a couple of pics of her like that when she first came in and my camera was handy. I just wish I had gotten a shot of her with her teddy bear. It was priceless. Peggy was a funny, funny girl. Such a smart-alec, no wonder she fit right in with the entire family.

Okay, enough of me ranting about my wonderful friend. Thank you again for your support and for taking the time to read my very long stories. I truly appreciate your support and am grateful that this site exists with caring people who are willing to reach out to others during such a difficult time.

Love and blessings!

Peggy (The Human)

Hi Doe,

Thank you for your kind condolences and I am so sorry about your Myah. It's such a devestating thing to go through - although I'm sure none of us would trade one minute of our time with them to escape the pain. You and Myah will be in my thoughts and prayers. My wish for you is that your pain abates quickly and you can find nothing but joy in your memories. I'm going to see if I can find your story. I would like to read it and know some of your and Myah's story.

My deepest condolences and prayers go out to you at this difficult time.

Peggy

Hi, Peggy, thank you for sharing with us how you're doing, and for sharing with us some of your many treasured memories of your precious Peggy's earthly journey with you. I'm smiling about her picking her toys - - my Samson was the same way. My mom lived with me until she died 25.5 years ago, and Samson was a gift to me from my mom - - my first canine companion. When I would get home from work he would promptly show me all the things his "grandmother" taught him during the day - - playing ball, jumping up on the sofa to sit next to me, - - all the wonderful images almost identical to your precious Peggy. Rest assured that your Peggy is now with each of our beloved companions telling them all about her earthly journey with you, "And you know what?? My mom and grandmother would help me with this - - or that - - and we would do this and that" and each of our beloved companions are listening intently to all of her stories. If you feel like a part of you is missing it is because she took a part of you with her to hold onto until it is your appropriate time to join her in eternal joy - - as well as to share with each of our beloved companions "pictures" of her earthly journey with you.

Donating some of your Peggy's things, like food, etc., is a WONDERFUL way to honor her life with you. Just take your time in deciding what you want to do with toys, beds, etc..

Peggy, thank you so much for sharing your precious Peggy with us, and I hope today has been a peaceful day for you and your mother. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and look forward to knowing how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Dear Peggy's Human,

I've only just been able to find the time to read about your precious Peggy. I had tears in my eyes whilst reading, and my heart truly aches for you. Your Peggy sounds like such a sweet, gentle girl (I've never met a Golden Retriever that wasn't) and the love you both shared is so touching. Adjusting to life without the physical presence of our companions is a long and difficult journey. However, I hope you find comfort in the notion that we never truly lose them. The love and the memories are ours to keep forever. A part of them will always be with us; just as a part of us has gone with them.

Take care of yourself,
Cheryl x

Dear Peggy's Human,

I really can't add much to what's already been said except to say that I'm so sorry for your loss. It's so hard to lose them. It's so hard to see their toys and bed and water dish and all that stuff and know they will never use it or play with it again but not want to pick it up because it's so final. After my Jack, whose two year "anniversary" of crossing over is coming up on April 11, I think the water in his bowl nearly got stagnant before I picked it up. I just couldn't deal with it. I'll tell you - Jack and I had a bit of a ritual. He loved pork chops and so whenever I used to make them, I'd always cut off a little piece and give it to him. (That's when I realized how sick he was, when he wouldn't eat any of that last batch, but anyway....) I still have the last package of pork chops in the freezer that I never cooked because he got sick, and I just kind of lost my taste for them after that. I look at that package sometimes when I'm putting things away and think - I'm still not ready to throw it out. I have another dog now - Sweetie - but still, I can't let go of those darn pork chops. I for one definitely understand not being ready to pick up those toys or that bed. I will keep you and your family in my prayers.

Valerie

Dear PeggysHuman,

I just read your story and I'm crying right now. First off, you're a fine writer and really conveyed the whole experience. Losing pet child is horrible, but im my experience, it is more horrible when it is abrupt and unexpected. I can tell you and Peggy had one of those beautiful rare relationships that most can only hope to have. She knows you were there for her and did what was needed. My heart goes out to you as you surf the waves of grief. I lost my baby not long ago and am still riding them. So I sincerely understand the pain you are experiencing.

You wrote:

I’ve been surrounded by animal family members all my life and loved them all. However, Peggy was different. I don’t know if it’s because of her background but she forged such a deep bond with me (us, actually) on a level I’ve rarely experienced with a person and never with an animal.

When I read that, I hit me hard because that's how I feel too about my baby. I've had a lot of beloved pets, but Finn was truly exceptional. It will be a long road for both of us I'm sure. I know my Finn enjoyed his life immensely and loved my husband and me to the point of stupid. We were able to give him such great life after his difficult beginnings, much like you and Peggy. I know our fur babes appreciate it (I use the present tense because I believe in some way they are still with us).

Take care and know my sincerest thoughts are with you.

ConnieJ

So today is the third week anniversary of Peggy’s passing. Or maybe it’s tomorrow. It all started on Friday the 25th and she passed on Saturday the 26th at 1:20 am – barely even into the new day. Since we rushed her to the hospital on the 25th, that’s the date I associate with her death. I can’t believe it’s already been 3 weeks without her. It’s not getting any easier. The shock has worn off and I just miss her desperately. She was like opium in fur. Once you experienced her, you were addicted.

I’m not sure how I can laugh when I’m feeling so much pain but I’ll share a story that’s not funny but is funny. You’ll understand after/if you read it.

On Tuesday afternoon, I had a dentist appointment and decided that I should woman up, stop being such a baby and pick up her cremains (sp) on my way home. So I’m at the dentist office and they were fixing a front tooth I had chipped. They ended up numbing the front and left side of my face to do the work. After about an hour of having my mouth opened way too far for way too long, my right cheek developed a twitch/spasm. So they finish the work, I leave there and decide I should still stop by Tuft’s. And doing it by myself seemed like a good idea (at the time). I really didn’t want to subject Mom to going there so soon after Peggy passing. I pull into Tuft’s parking lot and start crying. So much for tough. Understand, I’m not usually a crier. My family is a little unnerved by how I’m handling this (not Mom, she understands and feels the same way) because I usually can refrain from crying, at least in front of others and definitely in public.

So I’m in my car, lecturing myself about proper decorum, manage to stop crying, pull myself together and go in. While in line, I continue the pep talk about being strong (silently, of course - at least I think it was silent...). My turn comes, the woman at the counter looks at me and says, how can I help you? I replied by bursting into tears. I don't mean I shed a few tears. I mean, 'cry me a river' type tears. The kind where you can't talk and you can't breathe. I made a couple of interesting high pitch noises and she looked a little alarmed. I finally got her to understand why I was there and she had me sign the form and take a seat.

Ten minutes later a vet tech comes out with a box. I got up, looked at the box and lost it entirely. The vet tech looked like she just wanted to escape by falling through the floor. And I didn't blame her one bit. Later I realized that she was looking at a person crying uncontrolably, making high pitched noises while trying to control the crying, the left side of their mouth drooping slightly from the novocain, the right side of their face twitching and probably had some drool coming out the corner of their mouth (God knows what the nose was doing, it was partially numb too). It's amazing she didn't scream for a gurney, throw me on it and call 911 to report a stroke victim. Ya gotta admit, not really funny but it is. I even got Mom to crack up at the picture I must have made. The poor vet tech, I think I scared the heck out of her.

This is the kind of stuff that drives home how much I miss Peggy. Even if she didn’t understand why I was laughing, if I cracked up laughing at something, she’d always join in by locking eyes with me and have a big smile on her face. She understood happiness and she had a sense of humor. She just wanted to share in the joy. And if you were sad, she would gently comfort you. Not in a pushy way, very gentle in her approach and how she’d touch you. How do you get over loosing a sweet soul like her from your life?

Thanks for allowing me to share.

Peggy (the human)

I'm smiling about her picking her toys - - my Samson was the same way

Hi Moon_Beam,

Thank you for sharing your comfort and memories. I'm glad your Samson did the same thing with his toys. Nobody believed me when I told them she did that. Even Mom was a tad skeptical, until she saw it for herself. She couldn't stop laughing at how intently Peggy was focused on deciding which toys she wanted and which should be packed away for a while. She would gently push my hand aside if I was offering a toy she didn't want to keep out at that time and excitedly accept any toy she missed having available - big smile and lots of tail wagging when old treasures were being brought out. It was hilarious.

I hope you are doing well and I hope your little one is doing well. I apologize for not remembering his name, it's been a very difficult week and today just topped it all off a work colleague blowing up at me because he's not happy with my not being fully on my game. When it rains, it certainally pours. Life has me feeling battle damaged at this point.

Take care,

Peggy (the human)

Hi Cheryl,

Thank you for your kind words. She was truly a special girl and it's beyond difficult trying to adjust to her not being here. That's a beautiful way to look at it 'A part of them will always be with us; just as a part of us has gone with them'. I definitely feel like a big part of me went with her. I will do my best to remember that where ever she is, she probably knows how much I miss her.

Take care and thank you again,

Peggy (the human)

Hi Valerie,

Thank you for reaching out to offer support. I do appreciate it. It really is difficult and I know what you mean about the water and food bowls. I just left them there (and so did Mom). In a way, I was saved from making the decision. The following Friday the woman (actually brother's girlfriend who's out of work for the moment) who cleans my house picked them up and placed them in the laundry room when she was washing the floor. She and Peggy had a lovefest going on whenever she was here so it ws difficult for her too. She was unsure what to do with them since she didn't want to put them away or put them back in place without direction from us. But she also didn't want to upset us by broaching the subject. Poor woman, she had no clue how to proceed. Our discussion about it was something like (her pointing to the bowls) and saying 'ah, I wasn't, ummm, do you want, ahh.. should I? ahh.' Poor thing, what a difficult position to be in. I finally told her I couldn't pick them up but since she had, to leave them on the dryer and I'd do something with them later. I still haven't been able to address her toys. Every time I go in that room and think about packing them, I have to hold back the tears and walk away. It feels like if I pack them, I'm symbolically moving her out of my life (all reminders of our every day life will be gone/stored). I also haven't packed her bed from the bedroom yet. I figure I have nothing to prove to anyone so I'm going to leave it all until it feels right to pack it up.

I'm so sorry about your Jack. I love the story about the pork chops and understand what you mean about not wanting to eat them again. It's just not the same. Peggy loved food. I always told everyone she'd have to be dead a month before she'd stop responding to a plate clinking, a can or package being opened or even the fridge or freezer being opened. Didn't matter if she was sleeping upstairs in Mom's room while Mom was reading, she'd somehow hear something food related being done and be wandering into the kitchen within seconds - like she just happened to be passing by. We knew the truth since Mom would call down and ask what made the dog jump up and take off like a shot. the funny part was, she sometimes slept through someone knocking at the door but never slept through food being taken out.

Thank you for sharing a memory of Jack. It was a sweet memory and I again offer my condolences for the loss of your Jack.

Take care,

Peggy

[ I can tell you and Peggy had one of those beautiful rare relationships that most can only hope to have. She knows you were there for her and did what was needed. My heart goes out to you as you surf the waves of grief. I lost my baby not long ago and am still riding them. So I sincerely understand the pain you are experiencing.

Hi Conniej,

thank you for taking the time to read my and Peggy's story and to post a response. You are exactly right. The relationship was rare, which is what makes it so hard to fully release her. And I know you understand what I"m saying. I had a few minutes when I saw your reply and went to read your story. I am so sorry for your loss and your pain. I also lost a cat to a careless driver several years ago. I lived on a country road at the time so he should have been reasonably safe. He was a stray that wandered across my path and as you know, you can teach a very young kitten to be an indoor cat but you can never teach an outdoor cat to be an indoor cat. I've tried and found that they destroyed furniture and door jams trying to get out. And when you're home, they'll do everything in their power to get you to throw them out.

Finn was quite the personality - being a full-blooded Irish girl myself, I can appreciate his name and his spunk. I am so sorry for your loss and I hope the pain in your heart lessens soon. The shock of seeing them one minute and having to accept they're gone the nest minute is overwhelming. I love that you take in strays and I agree with you about the bottom-dweller with the bumper sticker. He apparently didn't get hugged enough as a child, or maybe his toilet training was too traumatic? Either way, he's a damaged human and unfortunately, the rest of us on this planet have to deal with him.

You will be in my thoughts and please let me know how you're doing if/when you have time.

Take care,

Peggy (the human)

Hi, Peggy, thank you so much for sharing your precious Peggy with us. I am so sorry that yesterday was a difficult day for you at work. I hope you will be able to dismiss the inconsiderate behavior of your colleague and just do the best you can. Grieving takes a lot of energy, and it takes a lot of energy to focus on what you're doing when you're grieving. So, you're using a LOT of energy just to function right now. The inability to focus is a normal part of the deep grief. This will pass eventually - - in its own time. This cannot be rushed, so please do not put any additional "pressure" on yourself to try to "live up" to your colleague's "expectations."

Battle fatigue - - that's a good description of this grief journey. And this is all the more reason why it is important for you to take it easy on yourself.

Peggy, I hope today is being kind to you. Please know you are close in my thoughts and prayers, and will look forward to knowing how you're doing whenever possible.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Seven weeks ago today, the most gentle, loving soul I've ever met suddenly passed from this world. Dealing with her absence has not gotten easier with the passing of time. Only the ability to control the tears has gotten easier, as long as I don't talk about her. I try to only think about her when I'm alone so the tears can flow in private. The demands of work have kept me working 15 - 18 hours a day, 7 days a week and quite a it of business travel thrown in for good measure. Even all that has not been enough to help push the pain aside.

When I look outside, I wish she were here to enjoy the Spring. She was always running around me in circles, with a big smile on her face and in her eyes, expressing sheer joy at being alive when I'd take her out to work in the yard. She was so funny. I'd pick up tree limbs that had fallen over the winter and drag them over to my undeveloped propety. Peggy would follow me and try to drag them back to the house, while I went to get another limb. I never did figure out how to teach her to drag them OFF the house property and not onto it. This year my property has turned into animal central. I have a mated pair of Mallard ducks coming to swim in the water that has collected on the pool cover and eat the food I've been scattering for them. They've been spending their days in my pool for the past few weeks. Peggy The Dog would have loved that. She found birds to be the most fascinating creatures in the world. For the past few days, I've had turkeys coming onto the back patio to get some of the food the other birds and squirrles feasted on all winter. One of them was a Tom and he's the first Tom I've seen here. The day I picked up her ashes, I saw 2 deer in my backyard right after I got home and was trying to stop crying. That was the first time I'd seen the deer since November. I had a racoon on my back deck one night a couple of weeks ago. I bought this house 6 years ago and this is the first time I've seen a racoon in the area. It sounds nuts but it's almost like she's getting an assortment of animals to come onto the property, when I can see and enjoy watching them.

There's a slope from my house property, down to the undeveloped property and the animals use that as a pass-through to get from one undeverloped area to another. I used to sit on the top of the slope and very quietly wait so I could watch the deer pass through at dusk and sometimes at the crack of dawn. It took some time for Peggy to figure out I didn't want to chase them, nor did I want her to chase or startle them. She would look at me like I just didn't get how to have fun but she did ultimately accept that we were just quietly sitting and not chasing. She'd always give me a funny look but she somehow understood that I was getting enjoyment from watcing them. With all the wildlife now showing up, it could be because her scent and presence isn't keeping them away but the timing of their appearance is startling. When I'm working from home, I walk into the bathroom and just as I get into the room and am facing the window, the ducks land in the pool (the window from that bathroom looks directly out to the pool). With the deer, I had walked into the kitchen to grab something and as I turned, a movement outside the kitchen window caught my eye. If the deer had been 3 feet over, in either direction, a tree would have blocked my view of them. If I had gone into the kitchen 1 minute later, they would have been gone. When I saw the racoon, I was headed to the basement with one of her beds and happened to look out the sliding door on my way by. The racoon only stayed for a few moments after I was there - and my presence didn't bother him. He looked at me and went back to eating some sunflower seeds. It's just strange coincidences with the animals and they do bring a smile to my face. I know it sounds nuts but it's almost like my 'dog on the other side' is trying to find ways to make me smile and lift me up a little. How crazy is that??

On a side-note, my excessive work hours have eaten up my time and prevented me from logging on to this site for several weeks. I feel guilty for not being available to help support those who were so generous with their time and compassion when I needed it most and if anyone reads this, I apologize for my failure to offer continued support in return. Hopefully with my work project having launched and now being up to speed, things will calm down and I can logon at least a few times each week and offer support to those going through the pain of illness and loss of their non-human family members.

To the site owners, thank you again for providing a place to express the overwhelming pain that comes from the loss of a beloved non-human family memeber.

Peggy (the human)

Hi, Peggy, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing and the WONDERFUL picture of your precious Peggy. Please believe me when I say there is no need for any apologies. Each of us here do understand the "reality" that even in our deepest sorrow things still need to be attended to - - jobs, bills, chores, etc..

Oh Peggy, it doesn't sound crazy at all: "I know it sounds nuts but it's almost like my 'dog on the other side' is trying to find ways to make me smile and lift me up a little. How crazy is that??" Your precious Peggy is watching over you with the angels, and she is letting you know she is still with you by having the woodland critters come visit and homestead. Your precious Peggy is saying, "Hey mom - - look at those ducks. Oh my - - the turkeys!! Look at the turkeys mom - - they are so oo big!! Shhh, mom, the deer are here - - don't want to frighten them away. How cool, mom - - that racoon sure is hungry - - good thing you put out those seeds".

In turn you can say, "Hey, my girl, the ducks are here - -. No, Peggy dear, we don't want to chase after the deer. Stay quiet and just watch them with me." And "Hey, you rascal, oh no you don't - - mommy needs those tree limbs over here - - okay?"

It is hard adjusting to the "new normal", and it doesn't happen overnight, in a week or a month or 6 months or even in a year's time. It happens gradually in our own time and in our own way and at our own pace. I'm glad that in all your busyness you are still finding time to let yourself grieve, for this is a vital part of the "adjustment" journey you are now traveling. And please know you are not alone - - ever - - regardless of how much time may pass - - for we are always here for you, with you, and beside you, Peggy.

Peggy, thank you for letting us know how you're doing, and once again, for sharing this wonderful picture with us of your precious Peggy. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and will look forward to knowing how things are going whenever possible.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Dear Peggy's Human,

Please accept my sincere condolences and the loss of your precious girl. What a beautiful golden! I'm so glad you were able to be with her in her final hour. And understand how much you miss her this spring.

With peace and healing thoughts,
Juturna