This is my sweet baby girl, Vienna. She was born on February 21, 2004 and I lost her on August 31, 2013. She was my best friend, constant companion and protector for 8 years and one week, since I got her from a Sheltie rescue organization. I got her the weekend before I started grad school and she got me through that as well as many other hard times. More importantly, she gave me joy every day of her too short time with me.

The people who had her originally didn't want her because she barked a lot and was high strung...as Shelties often are. I think she was mistreated. But we lived alone so I was able to minimize the things that caused her stress.

I loved her more than I could've imagined. I treated her very well and was conscious every day how lucky I was to have her. She was definitely queen of the house...and that was fine with me.

Here are the things I'll remember most about her:

• How she crossed her paws in front of her when she lay down
• How she loved to play on the bed
• How she'd put a paw on my leg when I wasn't paying enough attention to her
• How her head would pop up above the edge of my bed...or above my iPad when I was reading...when she wanted attention
• How her rear end swayed when she trotted to my back door to go out
• How much she loved chasing squirrels...but never caught one
• How she'd stare intently at me while I was trying to watch TV or read
• How she was always here to be hugged when I had a bad day or bad things happened
• How she'd lay down in any soft grass if I stood in one place for more than a few seconds when we went for a walk
• How she loved to go to my neighbor’s house to get treats
• How excited she got when I got the leash out
• How she used to put her paws on my shoulders or swat me in the nose with her paw to show me who was the boss (she obviously was)
• How joyful she was when she got to roll in something nasty
• How much she loved walking in water...particularly in Oak Park (I wish there would've been water in the creek when I took her there a few weeks ago)
• How she'd sleep under my legs when it was cold
• How she’d lay in the back yard, looking beautiful and perfectly content

Vienna got really sick with pancreatitis on Wednesday, August 28. She started throwing up every 30 minutes or so during the night. Even though she'd had this before, I had no idea how sick she was until the morning. I laid on the floor with her, waiting for the vet to open, and thought she was going to die right there. I wish I had thought to take her to the emergency vet...but she'd had this before and came through it very well. When I took her to the vet, I thought I'd get her back after a couple of days...so did he. But every day, he called with worse news. She just wasn't responding to treatments. On Friday, August 30, when I thought I'd be bringing her home, he called to tell me she needed to be taken to the emergency vet for more intensive treatment. The emergency vet tried a number of things that should've turned things around, but she was so sick her organs had started shutting down. Every time I saw her, she was worse. I was hopeful the treatment would work. But after her first day at the emergency vet, I woke up early that morning with a clear sense that I'd have to let her go that day. I prayed that they'd give me good news and that my feeling was wrong, but it wasn't so. The vet told me that she was suffering and the inflammation had gotten so bad they couldn't turn it around.

When they brought Vienna in for the last time, it was clear beyond any doubt that I had to let her go. I can't even bring myself to call it anything else. All I wanted was for her to be well and come home with me. But I made the only decision I could and my mom was there with me as Vienna died in my arms. She was so sick I was begging her to let go. I kissed her head the way she liked as she lost consciousness.

I know her suffering is over and the pain will lessen for me at some point. But I feel so empty and lost. My house feels dark and lonely. I can't believe my baby girl is gone. One day she was happy and healthy...a few days later, she was gone. It's inconceivable. I loved her so much and will never forget her.

Hi, Tara, please permit me to offer you my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved Vienna. Losing a companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we are blessed with the privilege of their company. Euthanasia the last gift of love we can give to our companions at great sacrifice to ourselves so that they can be restored to their former youthfulness in the company of the angels.

Tara, this grief journey is one of the most painful experiences you will know on this side of eternity. It is filled with many different emotions that can literally overwhelm you all at one time - - it is a journey that is frequently referred to as a horror roller coaster ride - - or as one of our correspondents describes it as being in a dark tunnel. It is a journey that can only be traveled one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, in your own way and in your own time because you are now on a journey that is filled with all the "first withouts" and the memories right now that can be all too painful that include "this time yesterday, last week, last month, last year, etc." to endure. But I assure you it is a journey that you are not traveling alone, Tara - - for each of us here know what you are going through, and we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

The good news in the midst of your deep sorrow is that the love bond you and your beloved Vienna share is eternal - - it is not restricted to the physical laws of time and space. Your beloved Vienna's sweet Living Spirit continues to share your earthly journey as she always has and always will for she is always and forever a part of your heart and memories, Tara - - she is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I know all too well from first hand experience that when our hearts are entrenched in deep grief that there really are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the seering pain of sorrow. Still I hope and pray that the words I share with you will offer you some measure of comfort, support, encouragement, and hope as you travel your grief adjustment journey.

Thank you so very much for honoring us by sharing your beloved Vienna with us. The picture of her is adorable and it is sooooo true that our companions are our "masters" - - and who would want it any other way? Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Tara, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thanks for the kind words moon_beam. I'm a psychologist and understand grief pretty well. But that doesn't help much when I'm the one going through it. I think I'm doing a little better day by day. But it still takes my breath away when I go in the bathroom (Vienna's favorite place because of the cool tile) to pet her and realize she's not there. I know what I'm going through is normal. It just sucks (the clinical term). Thankfully, I have a great family who've supported me through this. But they don't live with me. So it's lonely here without Vienna. She was a very good girl and I just wish she were here.

Thanks again.

Hi TaraG,

Your precious Vienna is just beautiful and I'm so sorry you are going through the pain of losing her. I lost my two kitties (Joe and Steve) exactly a month before Vienna. I have lost pets in the past and although I know what it's like to grieve, it didn't make this loss any easier. At the beginning, I told myself it wouldn't be as hard because they were old and because I had been through this before, but the hole in my heart and in my life was just overwhelming. I spent the first two weeks doing everything I could think of them to memorialize their lives... it gave me something productive to do, but I just wanted them back.

If I have any advice to offer at all, it's just to let yourself go through the grief. As a psychologist, you know this already, but there doesn't seem to be a lot of "reason" in this process. It's just plain hard and it does suck. You think you're doing fine and then the pain slams you. This forum has been so helpful to me. I feel validation that what I'm going through is normal and when others in our lives don't quite understand the depth of our relationship with a furry one and how sad we are to have lost one, the people here do. This has been a very healing place for me to hang out over the past several weeks, so I'm glad you're here.

I hope you'll have a peaceful evening.

CritzyJ

Thanks CritzyJ (hope I spelled that correctly) -
It's very helpful to talk to others who understand what it's like right now, in real life...not in theory or books. I lost a Sheltie, Keith, before Vienna but its been long enough ago that I guess I forgot the depth of the grief. He was also much older and had lived with cancer well beyond when the vet expected. As your experience proves, that doesn't necessarily make it any easier. It just didn't blindside me the way Vienna's death did.

Like you, I've been trying to do what I can to honor Vienna and document how much she meant to me. As you said, I'm glad I found this site where there's no judgment about the magnitude or quirks of each individual's grief. And it helps to hear from others to help relieve the guilt and the other feelings that impede healing.

I'm sorry about the loss of Joe and Steve. I read your post about them. I've always had dogs but I love cats as well. They sound like they had great personalities and were very much loved. Just like Vienna.

Thanks again for your kindness and support. I hope the path to healing brings good things for both of us.

Hi, Tara, thank you so very much for sharing with us how you're doing. Because you are a professional therapist some people may think that you already know everything and therefore are unaffected by whatever the circumstances may be in your personal life - - and therefore do not need comforting, encouragement, and support when you endure life's experiences. But you are a person with feelings, too, and therefore DO need support, encouragement, and comfort. Unfortunately our society in general, and sometimes the people who are the closest to us emotionally and geographically, do not understand or accept the reality that the physical loss of a beloved companion is as painful as the physical loss of a human family member or friend. And this is one of the many reasons why this wonderful forum was created as a safe haven where people like you, CritzyJ, and each of us can come to share what is in our hearts and on our minds without fear of rejection, judgment, or recrimination.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Tara, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Vienna's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Tara, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi Tara,

I am so sorry for your loss. Your memories of Vienna brought a smile and also tears to my eyes, our Scarlett did similar things. Sadly she passed suddenly in July - she was only 7. Scarlett had been given a misdiagnosis of Pancreatitis the day before she passed. We later found out the cause of her death after a lengthy talk with her ER Vet. My husband and I are devastated. My heart goes out to you... they are our precious babies, they fill our lives with so much joy, so much love, just so much more than words can express. When they are gone the emptiness that we are left with is overwhelming and unbearable.

I can understand when you say you "have a great family who've supported me through this. But they don't live with me. So it's lonely here without Vienna. She was a very good girl and I just wish she were here." I have wonderful friends. At home me and my husband cling to each other and this site has helped us both so much and more so in those times when I am home alone... I've come here and found comfort and support.

Keeping you in my thoughts and sending you healing energy.

Hi Scarlett's mom and dad -
Thank you so much. I read your story as well. At the time, I was still so devastated about Vienna I felt like I couldn't even post anything for the benefit of others. But my heart goes out to you as well. I'm sure you were like me and continued to harbor hope that something would fix your baby. At this point, it doesn't help me that much to know that there was nothing I could do but give her the final act of love of helping her pass. But it's so hard to not dwell on all of the things I wish I would've done differently before...and maybe one of those things would've changed the course of her life. It's such magical thinking but I guess it's just a stage of grief. I had the same kind of thoughts when my grandmother was killed when I was many, many years younger. As silly as it was, because my grandmother was murdered, I thought if I'd only eaten something different the day before, or worn something different, etc. in hinsight, thats so silly. But the strange thoughts and similar pain are as present with Vienna's death as much as with my grandmother's. Didnt mean to digress...but getting the wrong diagnosis must fuel similar thoughts of "if only." I know we both did the best we possibly could for our dogs, much better than many humans would do. but I'm definitely feeling how grief makes you think somehow you could've done better. And how much you wish you had another chance to do so.

It's getting better for me although I still have at least one meltdown a day. It helped a lot to get Vienna's ashes and footprint yesterday because I feel like she's home now. At least I don't feel like I've left her alone with people who may have cared about her but whom she wouldn't have preferred to be with. She was a one person dog and she spent her last 5 days with strangers. I know I have to let that go. But I know that made things even worse for her.

I definitely agree that this site, as well as the support I've received from friends and even acquaintances on Facebook, have been about the only thing to help me get through these long, lonely days. What I appreciate about the support here is that I know others feel exactly the same about their pets as I did. And you understand the depth of the pain and emptiness. I'm dreading Saturday morning because that's when she passed. I don't know how I'll fill my time that day because I don't want to be distracted by other tasks. I want to be able to cry and remember her. But I know it'll be tough regardless of who I'm with or what I do.

My heart and heartfelt thanks go out to you and everyone else on this site because you're experiencing the same pain but being so kind at the same time. I learn something valuable from every post and am comforted by the thoughtfulness of others who care so much for their own beloved pets.

Thanks again and I'll keep you in my thoughts for your continued healing.

Tara

Tara,

I remember taking home Scarlett's paw print... and I remember we took home her ashes the following day. At the time they were reminders of our harsh reality. Now, I find myself laying my hand on her paw print saying "I love You" and we are now happy to have her ashes - happy she is home with us - in any form.

Just like you we "continue to harbor hope that something would fix our baby" and continue to question our decisions and mini-decisions even though we know none of this will bring her back.

I, like you, had many losses in my life. Both my mom and dad died when they each were 28 years old. Each passed one year after the other, my dad was murdered and then a year later my mom died from Lung Cancer. My brother and I thought we each wouldn't live past 28... and when we both out lived our parents at 29 it was shocking but their deaths are a constant reminder to us to live life to the fullest.

I firmly believe that everything in life happens to teach us how to LIVE, I continue to try to understand Scarlett's death from this prospective. And I am trying to stay open for those answers to come... but then, just as I think I've moved from my deep grief emotions will come without warning and I am sobbing for our baby girl once again. This sorrow is a testament to their lives, a tribute to all they brought to our lives. And what an honor that is - right - they had and continue to have such a profound effect on our lives.

I just read the reply you wrote to me and wanted to thank you for taking the time to write back. While the images do continue to come they are coming less and less. Thankfully.
It makes sense that the images are a form of PTSD, never thought of that. I try to remain present and focus on my breath when they do come.

I hope today is treating you well and I continue to send you healing energy.

Hi Tara, I came across your story and just want to offer you my condolences and tell you I'm thinking of you as I know how overwhelmingly difficult this can be. I'd type more but I'm so wrapped up in my own grief right now, but I recognize a lot of the feelings you're experiencing so just wanted to let you know I feel for you.

What a beautiful dog! I love the way she has her paws crossed in the photo.

I add my condolences to those above and there isn't much I can add - except to assure you that you haven't really "lost" your beloved Vienna. She has just moved on to another dimension and you will be together in due course - only next time it will be forever. In the meantime, you have lots of happy memories and your undying mutual love to help you.

Warmest best wishes to you!

LPC - thank you so much for your comforting words. You said many things, in a few words, that are really, really helpful. It helps to think that Vienna and I, along with my previous dog Keith, will be together forever someday. Even though they never met, they'll make a good pair.

Thanks again and take care -
Tara

It's been exactly 2 weeks since I took Vienna to the vet after a horrible night of her vomiting every hour. Although I try not to feel guilty about it, I just keep wishing I'd have understood how serious it was and took her to the emergency vet much earlier. But I don't think my vet realized how serious it was either and, two days later, when I did take her to the emergency vet, her body had started shutting down. It's still hard to believe she's really gone. For some reason I have this sense that this is temporary...like she'll be back from the vet soon. Then the reality hits and I start crying again. . But it seems to be getting better day by day even though I think I have a long way to go before I'll feel ok.

I know I never took Vienna for granted. I knew how important she was to me and that it would be a huge loss if she weren't with me. But I'm constantly struck by what a big hole this has left...even in the smallest of things I do. She used to lay in the bathroom on the cool tile. I've found myself feeling this kind of excitement when I go into the bathroom because I'm anticipating seeing her. And then I realize she's not going to be there. Walking up to my back door, where she'd always jump on me from the top step, takes my breath away when I realize she's not on the other side. In general, I feel like I've lost the thing that gave me confidence and strength in this world. I'm a successful person who's physically strong...but I feel totally unsure of myself without her at home waiting for me. Like I've been unmoored from my dock and am just drifting.

Part of what's difficult is that I'm grieving for the life I had with her. I was really happy and she was my partner in this good life. I live in Kansas which tends to be incredibly hot in the summer. This past summer, we've had much cooler weather. So I took Vienna for a lot of walks. While we were walking, I'd just be struck by how good life is. Now I don't even want to walk the block to my friend's house because it was Vienna's favorite place to go (because they gave her a treat every time). And I used to come home from my kickboxing class in the evenings and sit with Vienna at my feet. That also made me think what a good life I had. Now I can't imagine feeling that way for a long time...and I'm dreading going back to kickboxing tonight because I won't have that same comforting experience with Vienna when I get home.

I'm just rambling because even if no one reads this, it helps me work through this. But another thing on my mind is how I feel myself moving toward getting another dog...probably too soon. I got Vienna almost exactly one month after my previous dog, Keith, died. He was 15 and had had cancer for about 6 months. So it may have been a little different in that I was somewhat prepared. But he was my partner as well. So even then I knew I may have been rushing things. But the outcome was so good. I couldn't have had a better new friend than Vienna. So I'm struggling with the desire to honor her and work through the grief fully...and this idea of how comforting another dog would be. I think I need to hold steady awhile longer. While I plan to get a rescued dog, I have to keep telling myself that I don't have to "save" one right now. I think I'd feel guilty if I move too quickly.

So that's where I am right now. Thankfully I have people who've been understanding and supportive through this. And this forum helps tremendously. I cry too hard when I have to speak to someone about Vienna. It's good to have this opportunity to give voice to my feelings in a way that allows me to say everything needed. Thanks to all.

Tara,

I can so relate to the feeling of a big hole in your life. That is how I've felt since my kitties left me six weeks ago today. Even though cats are so elusive compared to dogs, they were a presence in my life that was loving and consistent. Not seeing them in their favorite places feels like a kick in the gut. I read a quote recently that basically said we aren't just grieving the loss of our loved one, but we are grieving the loss of ourselves. We lose the self that we were when we were with them and we'll never have that again. That's just another layer in what makes this so hard, I think.

I'm glad to hear you're considering getting a new dog, but I think you're right in waiting a bit. The wonderful distraction of a new furry one in your life might have the effect of stuffing your grief and having it pop up in some other place in your life. I believe you'll know when it's time. I lost a puppy almost 13 years ago (before her first birthday... so sad). It was about 8 weeks before I started obsessing over a new puppy and another month before I found Vanessa. For me, it was the right time and as I said before, I think you'll know.

I know everyone grieves in their own time frame, but I have found that after the first month, I felt myself healing. Not that I'm not sad anymore (because I still am), but just that I feel the pieces of myself coming back together again, if that makes any sense. It has just been in the last couple of weeks that I can walk into the bathroom and not be struck by the fact that their litter box is not there. I can glance at the chair where Joe used to sleep and not be slammed with his absence. I can roll over in the middle of the night and not be startled by the lack of them sleeping beside me. These are steps I'm making and I know, in time, you'll start to notice some of those things in your own life.

Thanks for sharing your journey after losing Vienna. It helps all of us to know we are not on our own in this.

CritzyJ

Hi Tara, I'm relating so much to the things you're saying.

At least we're at the point now where we know we're going to be okay, although we aren't yet. I said similar words to a friend on Monday, that "I'm going to be okay, but I'm not yet." I think this will be with me a while in fact.

Everything seems to be a "first" doesn't it? The first kickboxing without her waiting for you when you get home, and for me the first thunderstorm without him was tough. Little things that we didn't think twice about before. Like you said, we never took our pets for granted, and you always know how much you'll miss them when they pass, but nothing can prepare you for when it actually happens.

As for rescuing another animal, it's crossed my mind too, just not right now. I feel bad because I KNOW there are other cats out there that do and will need rescuing, but it just seems like right now is too soon for me. It might not be the best environment anyway at the moment, at this point I'm struggling just to function and it's probably not fair to bring an animal in right now.

I'm glad to hear you're doing a bit better, I'll be thinking of you.

I'm having a tough night tonight and just needed to express it where I won't be told to get over it. I unexpectedly got basically that exact comment from my dad earlier tonight. He called right after I'd just received the nameplate for Vienna's ashes and I also got a citation from the city for a tree I didn't even know was dead. I was just overwhelmed and when he asked how I was doing, I started crying. I was totally shocked when he told me that I needed to get past this because he's such a dog-lover himself. He has three dogs of his own who he treats like his babies. And he loved Vienna dearly and always took care of her when I had to go out of town. I think he doesn't like seeing me sad so I imagine his comment was more about his own pain rather than insensitivity. But it felt like he was rubbing salt in my very open wound. I really thought that he, over anyone else in my family, would understand if it takes a long time for me to get past the crying and sadness.

After nearly two weeks, it still seems so unreal that Vienna's gone. When I talked to the vet and found out there was nothing else to do for Vienna, I kept telling my mom that I couldn't believe this was happening. I feel like I've backtracked on accepting what's happened.

Man...tonight is just really bad. I've been doing pretty well for a couple of days. But I've cried enough tonight to make up for the last few days. My birthday is in a few weeks and people keep reminding me that there's a party...as if that's going to make up for everything. I just don't care. I just want Vienna to be with me. And I know that can't happen.

I've had a lot of support from the people around me. But I think they're ready for me to move on. I'm just glad I have somewhere I can continue to work through this without judgment. Thanks to everyone on this forum who've been so kind while you're going through your own grief. What a horrible club to belong to...but I'm glad it's here.

Tara

I am so sorry that you have had a hard day. You will find that the intense grief comes and goes. Little things will remind you from time to time. Please try to remember the good times and not think "They're gone!" They haven't gone; they are still in your memory, and Vienna's. Treasure the good times.

It's entirely up to you, but if I were you it might be best to wait a little longer before thinking about getting another dog. It is best to get the grief into proportion first, so that you can give lots of love to the new dog.

But in a sense, Vienna is with you. You can't touch her, but be sure that she loves you, is aware of your current grief and wants you remember her; but because of her love for you she does not want you to be sad. She would not want you to be crying all the time; she would want you to remember her forever, with a warm, enduring love.


It's a group of loving, caring souls who offer each other support. I am so glad that you have been supporting others on this forum. Helping others is also a good way to work out your own grief.

I send you my warmest best wishes. Try to sense Vienna's closeness to you, even now. She is right next to your heart....

Hi, Tara, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please permit me to try to offer you some words of comfort and support as you travel your grief adjustment journey.

One of the many difficult things looming before us in our grief journey is establishing a "new normal" that no longer includes the physical presence of our beloved companion. This doesn't happen overnight, or in a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, or even 6 months - - it happens imperceptibly at first and then gradually over time. As our other forum correspondents have shared with you, I also understand from first hand experience dreading coming home knowing that there is a very important companion no longer physically here to greet me - - while on the other hand wanting only to be here at home because this is where I feel their precious sweet Living Spirits with me.

During the deep grief it will feel like you will be taking a half step forward and ten steps backward, but I promise you it will not always be like this. One day you will find yourself taking a step forward, and then another and another - - each step forward stronger than the one before. Does this mean you will NEVER have another sad day? No - - for your heart will always long to have your beloved Vienna physically with you, and even 20 years down the road you may feel a mist come to your eyes and an ache to your heart when you are recalling a treasured memory with your beloved Vienna. The good news is that the sadness will pass quickly, and you will find yourself smiling through the sadness.

Until this time comes for you, Tara, please know we are indeed here for you, with you, and beside you as you travel your grief adjustment journey to share with you the not so bad days, the not so good days, and the days when your heart feels like it is breaking under the unbearable weight of your sorrow.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Tara, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Vienna's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Tara, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi Tara

I wanted to let you know that I am thinking about you and hope you're having a good day. I know the pain that comes from the "What If" and "Should Have" questions. They are still rolling around in my mind. And I think they always will in some way.

I've recently had experiences with Scarlett - yes - present tense. She came to visit us on the two month anniversary of her passing.

Earlier in the day I had a crushing Scarlett sighting... it was so real all I could do was cry. Later that same night Scarlett came to visit us again. My husband and I were having a heavy grieving day so my best friend came over to the house to lend her support and she brought her furry baby Cody with her. My husband and I always called Cody our nephew and so we also called him Scarlett's cousin. We were all hanging out in the living room sharing Scarlett stories. My husband was on a leather chair on one side of our living room and me, Cody and my best friend were on the other side, sitting on the couch. Cody was laying on his mom's lap fast asleep and out of nowhere he sat up, jumped down from the couch and b - lined it to my husbands chair. Cody jumped onto my husbands lap, then made his way to my husband's chest, and once standing on my husband's chest Cody then put a paw on either side of my husband's neck and started to lick him non-stop. The thing is Cody has NEVER done any of this behavior before, we've known him for all of his life, and we've baby-sat him in our home when my friend had to go out of town and he has never done anything like this before. My best friend was in shock because she's never seen him do this before either - we all sat there stunned and sobbing because there was only one furry one that DID do this behavior - this is the exact same thing Scarlett would do to my husband. She would stand on his chest, place one paw on either side of his neck and kiss him and on top of that Scarlett would only like to kiss her daddy on his forehead (of all places) and guess where Cody was kissing him? Yup, you got it. We used to call it the Scarlett facial...

I just wanted to share this story with you - it was reassuring to us to know that her soul is still with us. To have just another moment with our furry one is such a blessing. I know Vienna is still with you and that she is leading you to adopting another - I can feel Scarlett doing the same for us. When it is right you will know. And as for your fathers comment. I had to deal with similar comments from a family member - I agree with your assessment - that "he doesn't like seeing me sad so I imagine his comment was more about his own pain rather than insensitivity." He means well, it just shows you that he's probably not the right one to lean on for support right now.

I am still in the deep grieving period so I don't know what it will feel like when it lightens up but hearing from everyone here on this site makes me hold onto the belief that it will... and having the experience with Scarlett's sweet soul reassures me that she is still with us. I know Vienna is still with you.


Hope today is treating you well - sending you healing energy and keeping you in my thoughts.

Tara, I'm so sorry you had such a bad night last night. Boy, it's all too familiar with me. A few good days, then a meltdown. And I, too, have experienced those comments that are crushing... "They were just cats, it's not like losing a child." Ugh! Even from a few pet-loving friends, which is perplexing to me. I agree that coming to this forum is so helpful. It's a place where we can vent, cry, share experiences of our babies' presence, and grieve as long and as hard as we need to.

Hang in there, Tara, the tunnel is dark, but there is a light out there and we're all moving toward it together!

CritzyJ