[THIS IS ANOTHER OF MY OLD THREADS - POSTED ON JULY 26, 2004, MORE THAN THREE MONTHS AFTER I HAD HANNAH PTS-- I AM JUST GLANCING THROUGH MOST OF THESE. I'M NOT REALLY WANTING TO READ THEM TONIGHT BECAUSE I HAVE ALREADY BEEN CRYING OFF AND ON FOR THE PAST TWO DAYS. I AM NOT READY TO RE-LIVE THIS RIGHT NOW. I AM UNABLE TO HELP YOU GUYS IN ANY OTHER WAY AT THIS POINT IN MY LIFE, BUT I DO HOPE THAT THESE THREADS MIGHT HELP. THEY WILL CERTAINLY SHOW YOU THAT YOU ARE NOT ALONE IN YOUR GUILT. (NOTICE I DIDN'T PUT THESE POSTS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER.)

I HAD SOME WONDERFUL PEOPLE, GOOD KIND FRIENDS, HERE ON LS THAT CAME TO MY RESCUE AND I GOT SOME REALLY GOOD ADVICE AND MUCH NEEDED COMFORT FROM EVERYONE. I TRULY HOPE SHARING MY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AND THE THOUGHTS, FEELINGS AND PAIN OTHERS WERE ALSO GOING THROUGH AT THAT TIME WILL HELP SOMEONE HERE NOW. -- LOVE, MARCIA]

My having my little girl Hannah has once again come back to haunt me like a raging storm that will not go away. Maybe I have lost my perspective again, but I don't know. Maybe I was just plain wrong and in what I did and/or did not do. I know I have some "old issues" to deal with yet, and some of them may be reinforcing these feelings. I have been trying to address some of the issues, but I reach a certain point, and I just feel I hit a wall. I move forward, but then, and especially now, I have gone way, way back.
I am so, so, sad, so brokenhearted, so much like I did kill Hannah.

I was doing better there for awhile. Yesterday, I started writing about some things I had read/learned from a book entitled "Animals as Guides For the Soul," and was going to post part of that at some point on the Lightning Strike site.

For some reason, after I had re-read the book and started writing out my feelings, I became convinced that I let Hannah down and that I let myself down too. I woke up this morning still totally devasated, and it has been 13 weeks today -- over 3 months.


Everyone on the site seems to have done so much more for their babies than I did, especially at the end. I mean, yes, she was taken to the vet's office 3 or 4 times in a 3-month or so period, and I had several phone conversations with one of her old vets. One vet said he could do surgery on her teeth, but I decided not to do that because I was afraid she wouldn't make it, and even if she did, I was afraid she would still feel really bad. You probably remember hat I didn't know her heart condition might have been treated and I didn't know that the bad teeth might have been contributing to that too. In short though, I DID think about the money, I DIDN'T ask if there was anything I could do to keep her alive and feeling better. I don't know what I have done. The vet who put her to sleep said as she was on that day, she probably would have only lived two more weeks or so, but he couldn't really KNOW that. I don't understand how I made that appointment and was able to carry through with it. I don't understand how I could have done that. I am just "beside myself" with why, why, why, how, how, how could I have done that to someone I supposedly loved so dearly. I would give just about anything to have her back. I would spend every dollar, move heaven and earth now, but I didn't.

You all seem to have done so much for your babies -- I didn't -- Only the last few months did I really do anything to help Hannah. I don't think I realized or I denied that she was in bad shape. I fed her antibiotics in ice cream, and medicated her little eyes, but that was nothing. I so much loved taking care of her and babying her. I just am afraid somehow I tried (I DID) control when, where, and how she would die, and I don't think that was right of me. I don't know how to get through this at all. I am so afraid I'll never, ever be able to forgive myself.

I've packed these dogs up once or twice after the poodle killed Babe, and was going to have them boarded or at least "fostered" for a couple of days, but I still have them. I haven't been able to let go of them. How in the world did I take Hannah to her death like I did! I don't know if she was ready to die. I, I made that decision. I feel like I killed her, or I let the vet kill her. That's all I could think yesterday, "I killed my little Hannah. I killed her." Oh Lord, how I wish I could have gotten one of those shots too and just lay down beside her and gone with her. I know that's not right, but that is what I felt that day and it's surely what I feel right now.

It's Monday and I have the day off, and there's so much I need to do. There are so many things I want to do. I was working on some important issues to help animals and their people. If I don't get out of this self-recriminating mindset, I will again have wasted another day, another day of this short life, and I will come to regret that as well.

I wasn't going to post any of this. I emailed much of this to a couple of friends. But if something doesn't snap me out of this, I don't know if I'll be able to keep myself from getting back in the bed again and shutting down. These feelings are killing me or more aptly, I am killing me with these thoughts that I seen unable to come to terms with -- just like I killed little Hannah.

(The little dogs have hardly "made a peep" this morning. How do they know? They know, they know something is wrong. They know way more than most people give them credit for. What did Hannah know? What did Hannah feel? What did Hannah think?)
NOTE: This is an addition to my original post above:
I know there is a war going on inside my heart, my soul and my mind. The part of me that feels all the guilt just wants to die; then there's is the part of me that wants to live and keep on loving, and to honor Hannah (and Babe too), to honor all the love they gave me. Also, I did go lie down, and the little terror terrier, Max, got on the bed and lay down with his neck across the back of my neck and just stayed there until I got up. Maggie tried to get up there too, but Max wouldn't let her. It gave me the thought that they love us no matter what -- maybe, I guess, I hope! But we have to learn to love ourselves and ultimately we have to learn how to do that if our lives are to have meaning. No one can do that for us, but I guess what I'm hoping again is that I have entered into the deep, deep darkness, but I understand there's light on the other side if I can just get through it. I guess it's okay to ask for help with that.

I know in order to remember the good with happiness, I am first going to have to address the "bad" too. Perhaps all my life, I've found ways to get AROUND the pain, to "stuff" the things that hurt, to do other things rather than face hurts and losses, but those old things just don't work anymore.
And I miss her SO. The longing for her feels so unbearable today. "It's winter in my heart today . . ."
Baby Hannah's Mom and Babe's Mom

Hey Marcia,

I can't really say much in terms of response, as I am in the midst of a severe crash myself.

Today, I am angry at the world because my girl was taken away so quickly and cruelly.

I'll email you later today, or maybe tomorrow. Email me if you are up to it.

Otherwise, just know that you are not alone.

Our two dogs are together in some place where pain like this does not exist.

Honey, (I hope you don't mind me calling you that) it would be very useful for you to speak with a grief counsellor. Many people have difficulty dealing with this type of loss - and although lots of us begin moving out of grief quite quickly, it is not uncommon for people to experience severe setbacks.

A counsellor will be much more useful than you would imagine. I wish you were here in person so that we could sit in a park, in the sunshine, and work this through.

I hope the rest of this doesn't sound like "tough love". I don't really believe in that. I believe in honesty. So, in that spirit, do you know what I see here? I see someone who loved SO MUCH and was SO dedicated to their little friend that they can't let go! How can you beat yourself up for that?

This world is full of horrible, terrible people who care less for their animals than they do for their cell phones!! And you feel that YOU didn't try hard enough?

If you had spent every last penny you had, every waking hour by her side and every thought for her only you would still feel this way! You're human sweetheart!!! Nothing is ever enough for us when someone we love is taken away.

Why are you having trouble moving on? Because you loved more strongly than most people. Because you truly believe that your little Hannah was worthy of life. And you are RIGHT!

And now how do you get around the pain and loss? By moving forward - not forgetting, not hiding your pain, just by living the life that you have. Let's talk bluntly - and I hope this doesn't hurt. Hannah is gone. You can't bring her back. She is no longer feeling pain or fear, but YOU are. You need to realize that if it was YOU who had passed on, and were watching a loved one pine away at your loss, you would want them to keep living wouldn't you?

There are times when we have to stop saying "What if" and start saying "What next". It hurts - and will continue to hurt for a long time. And that's OK!!! It really, really IS!! What is NOT ok is beating yourself up over and over because of your own feelings of guilt or doubts about how dedicated you were in taking care of Hannah.

Every post you place here is full of sensitivity, love, kindness and reflects a soul that is all of those things. Every day that you feel pain is a day where you PROVE that you are a loving and wonderful friend to Hannah.

If I were with you right now I would hug you and not let go. So pretend I'm there and cry on my shoulder for a while. It's okay to cry for Hannah. But when we cry for our lost ones, we are really crying for ourselves.

Oh Marcia,
I am so sorry that you are having a rough time of it today. You are really beating yourself up but good! I think DJ is right about the idea that you would still feel terrible even if you had spent your very last penny on Hannah. And in the end, do we really want to put our pets through any needless suffering? Something told you it was time for Hannah. It was just awful on Solas' last day. We had a terrible night before, I had stayed up all night with him. That morning the vet was coming to do an echocardiogram. But I just knew it wasn't going to help. He had started wheezing from lack of air and could barely move. It was still so hard to wait for the doctor to arrive. I wept knowing it was about to end. Oh did those minutes go slowly!

I think it's natural to have days like these, but I am concerned about you saying that you wished you could have had a shot too. Are you feeling so down that you have thought of harming yourself? Please call someone- a hotline, a friend, one of us (did you get my number?) You are very special to all of us here. Please take good care of yourself.

Hugs
Ariel

You did not kill her. Please don't think that. You say that so many of us did so much more for our pets than you did. That is not true, either. I probably could have had Oswald treated and it might have prolonged his life because some people treat kidney failure successfully. I chose to have him euthanized because of his age and other health problems. Hannah was well-loved and I am sure you treated her wonderfully. They just don't live as long as we do. You could spend your entire life second-guessing the choice that you made, but Hannah wouldn't want you to suffer. Please consider seeing a grief counsellor or talking to your doctor. You sound very depressed and talking it over with a professional might help you.

Oh, how sad. Not only are you deeply grieving her loss but now wrestling with what went before. My heart goes out to you. I don't know what to say to help except that we are not all-knowing, all-powerful, all-perfect. We do the very best we can and we are fallible human beings nonetheless. You did love Hannah very much and nothing can change that. Please, I hope you will be gentle with yourself.

Thank you all so much for caring. First, DJ, I certainly don't mind if you call me honey. No one hardly ever calls me that anymore, so it sounds good to me, and makes me feel cared for. I too wish we could sit in a park in the sunshine and talk about it and that you could hold me and I could cry and cry until there were no more tears. I am not good at crying when I'm with other people. I cry alone some, more lately than before, but I still have difficulty just letting the tears and pain out. it hurts so and I'm always afraid that if I let loose all the pain, it would kill me. I couldn't let the pain out the day I buried Hannah either, not really, and so there's still so much inside, I guess it's bubbling out in other ways, including this overwhelming guilt.

DJ, Your message didn't sound like "tough love." I know that I am crying because I miss Hannah and so, of course, I am (we are, as you said) crying for myself. I guess the fact is I did what I did because that was the only way I would know for sure she wouldn't be in pain or suffering. I did not want to let Hannah go, and I know with every fiber of my being I did not have her put to sleep because that was what I wanted. I did love that little girl so very much. I did not want her to die alone and/or afraid, as I know I've said 100 times. Like you all pointed out, I keep second-guessing myself now that she's gone and I can't bring her back. In hindsight, it seems so clear that I would do it differently, so differently (in that I might not have had her put to sleep), but I wonder if I had to make the decision all over again without knowing everything I know now, if I wouldn't still think I was doing the best thing for Hannah if I did. I don't know. But I do know and must remind myself, I made that decision and every decision FOR Hannah's best, not for mine.

I have made an appointment with a counselor for this Thursday -- the same one I saw right after, who has lots of "animal children" and a little one who looks so much like Hannah. She's also the one who suggested I get another dog. So, maybe she can help. This was a pretty severe setback, but maybe something I need to go through.

Ariel, thanks so much for your concern too. No, I'm okay. I have a dear brother and a little niece and nephew, and I would never, ever do anything to hurt them or cause them any pain. I do want to make a difference in this world, and I do want something positive to come out of all of this pain and out of all the love and goodness I have been blessed with in this life. And certainly the blessing of having Hannah in my life and little Babe too. Maybe even the new dogs are here to teach me something too. Maybe for sure Maggie came here to teach me more about loss, a different kind of loss, the sudden loss, and forgiveness. I forgave Maggie for killing Babe. I know she didn't mean it. So in turn, shouldn't I be able to forgive myself about Hannah? I never, ever meant to hurt Hannah, and I KNOW that, so why can't I forgive myself? I FEEL the compassion and pain and sympathy and empathy for everyone here. I know each and everyone of you loved your babies so very much and no matter what happened, you all did the very best you could with their best interests in your hearts. Why can't I feel all of this and know it for my own self?

Dee Dee, thank you for saying I didn't "kill" Hannah. I have got to get that phrase out of my head. I had been so upset about Hannah's declining health for several months -- I was sick with worry about her. I know I did do the best I knew how at the time and what I thought was best at the time, with nothing but love for Hannah in my heart. I guess like you said DJ, with so much love that I really did not want her to get worse or hurt, and those intentions and thoughts were and are right. I guess that's why second-guessing does no good. It does not take into account what one was going through and feeling at the time!

Thank you too Steph for your post and your email, for responding to me when I know you are hurting so. I read some of the other posts, and I see more pain and anguish. I feel ashamed that I have been unable to answer those cries for help and understanding. I see that others have done that, and I know too, I think Patti said, we sometimes take turns because some of us just aren't capable of responding some days. I am so sorry Steph to hear you are in the midst of so much pain too. I share your thought about our babies being in a place where there is no pain like this -- no pain at all.

Ariel and DJ, you are right too in that no matter what I had done or how much money I'd spent, I probably would feel pretty much the same -- that there was still more I could have, should have done. There's no good end to something like this.

Thank you too Chuchelo. I KNOW we are only human and most of us usually do the best we can with only the very best intentions. I hope I can learn to be more gentle with myself.

Something else that is troubling me too. I can hardly look at her pictures. I haven't been able to go back and read the things I've written about Hannah or about Babe. I can't look at Babe's cage or Hannah's things without hurting so. Maybe it's just not time yet. I know that's all part of the healing process, but right now it just hurts so very, very much. The good, beautiful memories hurt too because they are gone.

Thank you all so very much once again.

Love,
Marcia

Marcia, you'll know when the time is right for you to see her cage, her things again. Grief is a jagged splinter -- too hard to grasp and hold. Endure the pain of the moment, knowing that eventually it will be better. I believe that love is stronger than death and that eventually, that love will be our way out of grief. That's what I'm holding on to.


Chuchelo's mom

Marcia! I am so sorry I was not around today to answer this post. I would have called you on the telephone and we could have had one of our girlfriend discussions. Maybe tomorrow I will give it a try. I have a meeting in the morning and I don't know your work schedule. But I will give it a go and see if you are home. It is too late right now to call you. In the meanwhile.......

Do you recall that I told you that I "discovered" (by reading it somewhere) that an animal does not miss tomorrow? Suppose you could not think ahead, you could not project yourself into the future. physically and mentally you would live only in this moment not even one second in the future. You and I can anticipate an appointment in the morning and see images of it in our mind's eye. We can look forward to autumn or spring but an animal lives in the present alone. without any thought of the future. Once an animal dies his (or her) existence merely terminates. She is being deprived of nothing, for she has no concept of "the future".
You know that your vet told you it was time. When we hestiate to bring our animal's life to an end it is because we are thinking our ourselves. I know that you have qualms about whether or not Hannah's life could have been prolonged but think about what I wrote above and whether or not Hannah would have been completely enjoying herself while under the prolonging treatments.

You wrote that others "did more" for their pets than you did. Well, yes, I certainly spent a fortune trying to hang onto my Ginger.

But I realize now I prolonged his suffering. I could get very twisted up with more grief if I really thought about THAT. But let's also consider what our pets might say if they could think and talk like us--Hannah would say "I don't want to leave you anymore than you want to be without me--but please give me freedom from misery! and most especially don't prolong the inevitable because I will go downhill and be no good to myself or to you!...and if I gave you alot of love and companionship please get another pet (or pets) to fill my place and give them the attention that you gave me and it will give you alot to think about and it will be a way to keep you young and filled with love!

thinking of you!! (and all of us who have lost our buddies)
Patti

It was weeks before I could look at Edgar or Jesse's pictures. One day I found my self searching through the couch cushions, sobbing uncontrollably, looking for whiskers as a momento.

I'm glad to see you thinking through your grief. I just hope that one day you will be able to share that enormous heart of yours with another special furbaby the same way you did with Hannah

And, by the way, that is the cutest, scruffiest, most adorable picture you are using for your avatar - that I have seen in a long time.

And I thought I was the only one collecting relics. When I find one of Chuchelo's clawshells, I put it in a little tin. So sad.

I collect "Buster" fur off of my furniture......I didn't even realize how much he brushed against the
chairs and sofa until I ran my hand over it and collected a bunch...I must confess I even smell it before
I put it in a zip lock baggie.....

I'm sitting here smiling at all of us!! You know how bad it got for me?

You know how cats rub their cheeks on corners? Well, over time the corners will become smudged with what I call "face schmutz" - a dark smudge of their "scent". I actually took a kleenex and some water, wiped the smudges off, and kept THAT as a momento in the box with Edgar's whiskers!!!!

NOW can everyone see how much we all have in common? No matter how "in control" we may seem, we're all a mess.

Oh no, That's it.....now I'll be going around the house checking all of the corners out! I hadn't thought of
that yet DJ!

I found some cat hair on a summer skirt that somehow shrunk a few years ago and has magically unshrunk since I have started running again. (A miracle, that!) On one of the hem threads, there was a clump of dark fur with a tiny "spark" of gold, tabby cat hair - very distinctive - I always loved the little sparks and flecks of colour. That was from my Carmen who has been a resident bridge kid for the past three years. Even now, I got tears in my eyes when I saw it. For years, Carmen and Oswald were "it" for me. When I moved into a different city, they were what I brought with me and their love kept me sane while I adjusted. Now Oswald is with her. The grief for him is fresh, like a paper cut, clean. But it still catches me off-guard to be hit with a wave of grief for my Carmen. She never lived in the house that I am in now, but I am sure that she occasionally joins us there. So the shadows, glimpses of forgotten fur on clothes or furniture, warm spots on the rug and by the bathroom sink are their way of reminding us that they are still with us in spirit.

Dee Dee

Marcia, I thought of you when I read this poem. It brought tears to my eyes, but I am sure that this is what your sweet Hannah would have told you.


Grieve not,
nor speak of me with tears,
but laugh and talk of me
as if I were beside you...
I loved you so -----
'twas Heaven here with you.

Isla Paschal Richardson

dee dee, that is a beautiful poem!


Marcia, I am thinking of you!
How are you doing? tomorrow is friday and I hope to talk to you on the land line!
love,
Patti

Dear Marcia:

I just wanted you to know that I have been thinking of you!!

I really hope that you are okay...

Please, if you feel like it -- e-mail me.

You are certainly in my thoughts and in my prayers!!!

God Bless you!

Love, Denise

Marcia, just to let you know I've been trying to find something I read on the net yesterday about guilt and pet loss. Unfortunately, my searches have been in vain, which is really annoying because I'd like to read it again myself. It talked about our need to control our pets lives, and how we take on so much responsiblity for them so that when we lose that control, we feel ultimately responsible. It wasn't on a pet loss site so was a little more 'detached', I'll look again and post it when I find it as I found it relevant and it might help you a little too.

Marcia, hoping you are feeling better! Let us know how you are now
and if we can do anything to help you!
Love,
Patti

How are you doing, Marcia?

Hi all. I'm doing better, thanks much. I emailed several of you today from the site -- you too Dee Dee. I haven't heard back from anyone, so I was just wondering if something happened and you didn't get the emails.

I'm just awful tired tonight, but I am better and appreciate you all thinking about me so much. I will try to post in the morning before I go to work.

I got your e-mail and sent one back this weekend. I guess it didn't arrive, or I didn't use the mail on this site properly, sometimes I am a techno-peasant. Anyway, you are definitely in my thoughts and prayers. I'll try to remember what I wrote.

I had written that you said many of us did so much more for our pets than you thought you did for Hannah. What Oswald had was treatable with insulin because we caught it in time. He showed great improvement when I gave him the shots. I KNOW that if Hannah had had diabetes, you would have done the same thing - learned how to take blood sugar readings, how to give shots, what signs to look for. You would definitely have done it because of the love that you have inside you. With the heart condition, things are not so black and white - you can't just give a shot and fix it.

My mother said to me when I had Oswald put to sleep and I said I felt guilty. "You gave him a good home. You took him in when many people would have taken him to the pound or just put him on the ground and left him (I found him up a tree and brought him into the house, planning on finding the owner later. He was a kitten, and nobody claimed him, thank heaven!). Many people just dump their pets off in the country, leaving them to fend for themselves. He could have been wandering around lost, hit by a car, taken by a coyote or left to suffer, and he was inside the house with your other cats, safe and fed. When he was sick, you took care of him. When he was old and got diabetes, you kept him going. Many people are cruel to animals or neglect them. You did neither. He had a good home, a good life, good cat buddies and a full belly. Even though you were at work a lot, he had other cats to keep him busy, so you didn't neglect him. Cats sleep all day, anyway, so although he missed you, he had other things to do." You know, she was right. And I know, Marcia, that the same words could have been said to you about Hannah and Babe. They were fed, loved, in a good home with a kind, loving person. With Hannah, you made that very tough call to free her from a diminished quality of life.

When the vet said that she probably wouldn't have lived for much longer, that is probably very true. Of course you will never know for sure. But please know for sure that Hannah knew she was loved and she loved you back. She always knew that! I am sure that she and Babe are both looking at you now, smiling in their hearts. They are probably both thinking the last two lines of that poem: "I loved you so ----- 'twas Heaven here with you." Because their life with you was as close to heaven on earth as is possible in this mortal realm. I wish you inner peace!

Dee Dee

Hi Marcia,
I've been away from the site for a few days. Been thinking about you though. We'll be in touch.
-Kathy

(HAVING TROUBLE GETTING THIS ONE TO RE-POST)