Hi,

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

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

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

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

I wish!

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

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

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

Daryl

Dear Daryl,

I am so sorry you and your wife have to through this very hard thing to do.

When I had to do it because of cancer I was so confused like you were. You know deep down when it is right. I will sent prayers your way to help all of you through this horrible time.

I spent 2 hours just sitting beside him (Stymy) on the floor. Give your Kirby lots of love and TLC before you go and say your good buys. Tell her she will be going were there is no pain and only happyness.

I wish you the best and come and talk often we here at lighting strike care.

Love and belief,
Vicki (Stymy's Mom)

I am so sorry that you are about to face this difficulty. My only advice is simple - look your loved one straight in the eyes before she leaves you, tell her you love her, and then stay by her side no matter how difficult it is.

When she passes, close your eyes and wish her well. And let the tears flow as they may. Never hide your grief - your grief is an extension of the love you have for her and should never be hidden.

My thoughts are with you. I'll pray that my three passed on furry ones greet her and, as I often ask of them, teach her how to fly.

I'm so sorry. I'll be thining of you guys.

Dear Daryl,
I am so sorry to hear you are going to have to go through this with Kirby. There are lots of things I would say to you if this were you're first time, but since you are all too familiar with the devastation of having to face this, I'll only echo what DJ said -- hold her tight and tell her that you'll always love her and be sure to look her straight in the eyes and tell her there won't be any pain for her anymore.

Yes, that appointment is the most difficult, sad thing I've ever had to do in my entire life. My little Hannah died pretty much of the same thing, plus she had a really bad tooth and severe arthritis. Two years ago when she was diagnosed with a heart murmur, the vet did not tell me there were treatments for it or anything, and by the time she got so sick, I believe it was too late to safely treat her. She would have had to have surgery on her teeth, and as the vet said, she was not a good candidate for anesthesia.

She was almost 16 years old and had been with me since she weighed less than one pound and fit in the palm of my hand. When I got home afterwards without her, my first thought was "I just want her back!" I still wonder sometimes if I made the right decision because I think maybe I could have had her a little longer, but I did not want her to suffer anymore and I did not want her to die at home alone while I was at work or something. So, I don't know -- like you said it's a terrible decision to have to make.

One other thing you might do is since she did eat well is to give her something to eat that you wouldn't otherwise give her -- something really special like a steak or pizza or even chocolate ice cream -- whatever in the world she might like!

We will be here when you get back. My heart breaks for you and your wife. Again, I am so, so sorry you have to go through this.
Marcia

{{{{{{Daryl}}}}}}
Oh I know how hard this is for you. Today is 3 weeks for us living without our Dieter. We too had to make the difficult decision to put him to sleep. He was 14 and 4 months and I too had hoped he had a couple of years left. I spent the morning of 9/8 just laying with him, while he slept peacefully for the first time in days, and yes it was because of a "pain" patch that he appeared to be feeling better. We knew it was short lived and we should let him go, before he suffered again the terrible pain from liver cancer. I keep reminding myself that God has a plan for all of us, and one day it will unfold and we will understand why he has to call back our four legged friends before we want to let them go.

I's the hardest thing to do, but the most kind thing you can do for Kirby. She will be free of pain and your other furbabies that have gone before her will be there to greet her where she can run free and feel young again. I held Dieter and told him how much I loved him and loved that he even graced our lives for just a minute, as he left this world for the next. I'm glad I saw him through his life to the end. I've cried buckets of tears, because I miss him so much. The days are getting easier, I will say that, and thank God for "Lightening Strike" and all of its compasionate members, truly a gift from God, as each person here is so full of wisdom and love at this most difficult time.

Daryl you and your wife and your precious Kirby, are in my prayers.
Libby

Dear Daryl, words can't even express the pain you're going through right now, not only did you lose 3 other precious gifts to the same thing, but this is compounding your pain even harder, i am really at a loss for words right now, i only wish i could give you and your wife a big hug to show you how much we sympathize with you, i have sat and read all these beautiful tributes from fur-mommies and daddies, and feel so terrible that so many of us out there are in agony because "that decision" that you have to make just makes it that much harder, but in our heart of hearts we know that it is for the best, as you said in your posting, you knew it was for the best, in our heads we know its for the best, but our hearts won't agree, our thoughts and prayers are with you tremendously. Kirby is up there with all our babies and if she's anything like my littlebit, she loved to run in the field, you pretty much had a hard time catching her, so she is already an instant hit up there with all our companions. Please let us know how you and your wife are doing later on if you feel up to it, we will wait as long as you need. Our hearts are with you.
Sherry(littlebitsmom)

Dear Daryl,
I am so sorry you have to be here...but since you have to share this with someone I am glad it is us at lightning strikes!
It is unusual that we see a post from someone in advance of the euthanasia..usually we seem to hear mostly from folks afterwards. So, I hope that you return when you are able and tell us how you are feeling. This place is all about feelings---I liked the term you used: "emotional landscape".
Kirby is going to be with our pets at the rainbow bridge--he will be 100% happy and blissful..he won't have an ounce of pain and he will spend his time playing with our furry friends..cavorting and being "silly" until the time when he will be re-united with you again...(and he will!). Nothing on Heaven or Earth, not even death, can separate those who LOVE..animals included.
It is hard but try to remember we can all look at things as either good or bad--you had Kirby in your life = good. Kirby had you = good. You and your vet are able to ease this inevitable suffering = good. you found us here at lightning strikes, and (anytime!) we can travel the "emotional landscape" together = good.
Here is a hug for you and yours {{{{{{{{{{Daryl}}}}}}}}}}
Love,
patti

To all you wonderful people,

Thank you so much for your sympathy and hugs and caring! Don't worry: I felt them all and appreciate tham.

Unfortunately, I don't have enough vacation/personal time at work to take today and tomorrow off as I'd like to. But I did take a couple hours off this morning to take Kirby for her last walk on the beach. She's feel too lousy lately to even want treats, but she's doing well enough today on the higher heart med doses that she eagerly ate some Beggin' Strips. We're doing our best to give her anything and everything she wants today. Later, my wife will be taking her for a ride in the car -- Kirby's second most favorite thing in the world after the beach. Her final appointment is this afternoon at 4:30. I'll leave work early to spend a little more time with Kirby, then a friend will be driving us down to the animal hospital. I've already taken care of the final vet bill over the phone so we won't have that to face, too. I wish we could do the same with the cremation fee and final paperwork....

At the beach, Kirby seemed to know it was her last chance to smell everything there. She's a Jack Russell terrier, and it's hard to see her slowed down after spending her whole life being the exuberant, high-energy clown. But move slowly she did, nose to the ground most of the time, following invisible scents, trying to leave her last marks, messages, and pee-mail. As always, she was thrilled to get to visit with some other dogs, but today her weakness and their rowdy energy combined to make her feel vulnerable and afraid. I knelt with her and petted her until she stopped trembling, and let her wander wherever she wanted until she grew tired and began glancing up at me. I gave her a long drink of water, picked her up, cradled her on her back in my arms, and carried her back toward the car, talking to her softly and trying hard not to cry.

As we neared the parking lot, a slightly older man with his dog walked up from the water's edge to intercept me. "I just need to tell you," he said, "that seeing you carry your elderly dog like this is one of the kindest, most loving scenes I've ever beheld."

Choking back the tears, I tried to answer, "This is her last walk on the beach."

He nodded, sympathy and understanding in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "We all go through this at one time or another. You know, the fact that a stranger would come up to you on the beach and make a comment like this is an indication of how much love you and your friend here have brought into the world."


You folks here at Lightning-Strike are part of that infusion of love.


-- Daryl

welcome to the site, sorry you had troubles with petloss.com...i will talk to the owner and let him know.

Hi DJ,

I stayed with my cat, Smokey, the first time I had to go through this. It felt important to be there with her, to have my voice saying "I love you" be the last thing she heard through those old, gray ears.

When my second cat, Kela, reached her time, I just couldn't do it. I wasn't strong enough that day to face going into the doctor's office, being watched by the other people in the waiting room, or seeing the life leave Kela's body. To this day, I regret not going in there with her. My last image of her haunts me: she was looking back at me over my wife's shoulder as they went through the door. I sat there for a moment, stunned, and then decided that I had to go in and be with her after all. But it was already too late, my wife was coming out to tell me it was over by the time I reached the door.

The next loss happened while I was away. I'd adopted a semi-feral young cat after Kela's death, and I spent three solid months sitting patiently and quietly in a room with "Cactus Lil" and working to tame her. (She was okay with my wife, but was terrified of men. We're sure she must have lived with a young woman whose boyfriend was physically abusive before she escaped and found herself in the cat shelter.) In those long evenings of sitting alone with her, I kept a stack of books handy and would sit on the floor and read. One evening, I started to read aloud. As soon as I did, Lilly jumped up into her chair, curled up, watched me with sleepy eyes, and fell asleep! Thinking maybe it was a coincidence, I tried it again the next night -- with exactly the same result. It was the first time I'd seen her actually relax in my presence. From then on, reading aloud to her became part of my nightly ritual.

We'd just gotten to the point where we felt safe letting her go outside for brief periods when I had to go back east to visit my family for a few days. The first day I was gone, Lilly got into the neighbor's yard and was killed by the neighbor's 2 dogs. So, I couldn't be there for Lilly, either.

Today, I am definitely going to be holding Kirby at the end, looking into her eyes, and telling her I love her. As hard as it is, the feeling I've had afterward when I wasn't with one of my friends at the end is even worse. Being with her will only be hard today. Not being there is hard (for me) for years afterward.

I typically don't hide from my grief. I am getting exhausted from feeling so much of it, though. After Kirby passes on, we've still got 2 elderly cats -- one of whom we've been caring for intensely since February when he was diagnosed with liver disease. It's like I'm watching some macabre conga line of loved ones, marching one-by-one off the cliff. As hard as it is to imagine life without our sweet furbabies, I think I'm going to need some pet-free time for a while after these guys are gone.

Blessings,

-- Daryl

Hi,

Thanks!

The Petloss problem seemed to be a registration server issue. I could navigate the Petloss.com site, but whenever I tried to register or log in, it would crash and I'd get an error screen.


Appreciatively,

-- Daryl

Hi Marcia,

I do the same thing -- always questioning whether I really did the right thing or not. But I think that's mostly just "monkey mind" jumping around and making noise.

The reality is that if you're enough of a loving animal caretaker to come to a place like this (Lightning-Strike), then you are certainly going to have done the very best you could possibly do for your loved one given your cir%%stances and knowledge at the time.

My wife and I desperately want every single day we can possibly get with Kirby, and when she's gone I know we'll say exactly what you said: "I just want her back!!!" (I've said that every single time.)

But what we're doing today, we're doing for Kirby because we love her and don't want her to suffer any more. We've done all we can, we've explored all the options, done our best to keep her as happy and comfortable as possible along the way. Now that it's clear that there are no more tricks up anyone's sleeve, no last rabbits to be pulled out of medical hats, and no delicate balancing act that's going to let her comfortably and happily stay with us, it's time to help her shed her failing body as gently and painlessly and lovingly as possible. She's not happy. I can see when I look into her eyes that she doesn't want to go on like this. So I'll be brave and strong and do this awful thing.

And then we're going to cry. And howl. And comfort each other. And howl some more. Just like I did this morning when I hung up the phone after calling the vet's office and making Kirby's last appointment.

-- Daryl

Daryl
I am so sorry about Kirby. I haven't had to make the difficult decision to put a pet to sleep but my heart goes out to everyone that has had to make that decision. I cry right a long with all of you just as I'm crying right now with you and your wife (I can hardly see the keyboard). My precious 17 yr-old furkitty passed 3 months ago, last Sat., and the evening of his death is still very fresh in my mind. I'm sure if he hadn't passed when he did I would have had to make that very difficult decision to.

I am so sorry!


Wanda

Daryl, I am so sorry that you have had to make that tough call. It is the toughest thing I have ever done and it never gets any easier.

You promised Kirby an good life and a good death - both are the ultimate way of showing love. You made the decision to take away Kirby's suffering, and that is a noble thing to do. I know it doesn't feel like that now. But that is because you are in the process of grieving - and the grief is what you are feeling.

The guilt and second-guessing seem to be a painful part of the process. I had Oswald (kitty) euthanized when his kidneys were failing. Although this can be treatable, the vet said that his age and his diabetes were working against him. However, when I made the decision, he would perk up a bit, so I cancelled a few appointments. Then I realized that the "improvement" wasn't going to be long term and that I should let him go. But, like you wrote, that makes it even tougher. It is almost like they know, and they perk up a bit. It is so sad.

That drive to the vet's was one of the longest trips of my life. I wanted it not to happen, for the drive to go on forever with my big boy in my arms. I wanted it to be over, for both of our sakes (he hated the vet's). I am sure that you have gone through the full gamut of feelings, and hope that you are getting some support at home.

I am thinking of you and am sorry for your loss.

dee dee

Wanda,

Thanks.

Losing them is hard. Period. However it happens. I don't know how we survive something that feels as awful as this grief and loss.

But I will admit that this business of having to schedule an appointment for your friend's death does feel like the worst of the worst.


-- Daryl

Hi Dee Dee,

Thank you for that reminder. We did promise Kirby a good life -- and a good death. We do this because we love her. But God, how I don't want to face the next 48 hours!

My wife and I are doing our best to hold each other up. She's the one who originally adopted Kirby. Kirby was the "clown princess" who got my wife smiling again after she'd been divorced and then had watched her last batch of elderly pets die.

But in the years we've been together, my bond with Kirby has become nearly as strong as hers. My wife was cuddle-mom, I was the one Kirby turned to for play and singing. (She used to be quite a talker!)

Anyway, it's time for me to go. Thanks for the help and the good wishes. I need all the luck and strength I can get. Kirby's appointment is less than 2-1/2 hours away.


-- Daryl

Dear Daryl,
By now you've returned from the vet's office and are facing an empty house and an empty pit in your stomach. Going on with daily life without our loved ones is so rough. I am so sorry. I remember how unbearable it was to come home without my Jordan's face waiting for me at the door. Everywhere I looked in our home brought tears to my eyes and it was so hard for a long while for me. It has been four months since we said our goodbyes to my boy and waves of grief wash over me at unexpected times. It is such a huge life adjustment, isn't it? Your story about taking your baby for his last trip to the beach, etc. touched my heart so deeply. Kirby was indeed lucky to have such a wonderful life with you. I am thinking of you and sending warm thoughts your way.
Jordan' mom

I too had to make the decision to euthanize my dog of almost 12 years. Although I know it was the right and humane thing to do, I went through a period of second guessing and guilt and at times, I turned into a complete basket case.

Giving our beloved pets a pain-free death is the last thing we can do for them in this life. It's a decision we make out of love and concern for what's best for them. That certainly doesn't make it an easy thing to do, but as time passes we reach a point where we are at peace with ourselves for doing what we thought was right at the time.

I'm truly sorry you and your wife are having to deal with the almost unbearable pain of losing Kirby. Please know I understand and share your pain and I hope you will continue to come here and talk about your loss as much as you need to. It really does help to just talk about it with people who understand and care.

__Jim

Dear Lightning-Strike friends,

Thank you so much for all your support and good wishes. To those of you who are facing this same thing yourself, my heart goes out to you. Knowing you're doing the right thing isn't always much comfort when it comes right down to it. But you are, and that really is the most important thing. As others have said, this truly is the last and greatest (and hardest!) gift of love and kindness we can give our beloved friends. We are responsible for giving them the best life AND the best death we possibly can. But you know all of that already. I'm running on autopilot today, sorry.

I'll write more later, when I'm back at home and it feels safe to open my heart up again. Being at work today sucks, but I've got to try -- I've got SO LITTLE vacation time left! (Don't even get me started on how much I hate corporate life.)

But I want to at least give you a short update.

After the very best day my wife and I could possibly give her (a trip to the beach with each of us, all the treats she could eat, rides in the car), we sent Kirby peacefully on her way at 4:35 yesterday (Wednesday) evening. We were nose-to-nose as the doctor gave her the injection, and she looked right back into my eyes the whole time as I told her I loved her over and over again. My wife, Jo Ann, couldn't face that part of it, but our friend Rhonda went with me and stood at my back the whole time.

It was clear on the ride to the vet's office that this was the right time to ease Kirby on her way. She would normally spend 90% of any trip in the car trying to hang out the window, elbows on top of the door, smiling into the wind. This time, she struggled to look out the window only once. The rest of the time she just laid quietly in my lap. Her poor stomach was so bloated with fluids! I cried just looking at her and imagining how she felt.

As the injection took effect (it took half a minute or so because her circulation had become soo poor), she began to sag against me and her eyes began to drift shut. There's always a point for me when I know my friend has left their body, and it doesn't always correspond with when the doctor says the heartbeat has stopped. When I felt that moment arrive for Kirby, I had a sudden and clear image of her dashing full-out down the beach toward some far horizon. I hope that's exactly what she saw, too.

The aftermath is a mixture of grief, relief, and exhaustion. We've spent every waking moment worrying about her at some level for over a month. Suddenly, that part's gone. There's nothing more to worry about, nothing more to do except grieve and heal.

The house is far, far too quiet without her, of course. On the other hand, she never really was as bonded to us as we were to her. Kirby's heart and passion were really with The Next Adventure, whatever it was that lay just beyond the reach of her leash. If our essence or soul does continue after death, then I'm sure that's just what she's doing right now: running free and far and fast. I do hope she'll come back to visit from time to time, though.

-- Daryl

"the next adventure" what a wonderful thing to say, Daryl.

What the stranger on the beach said is so true.
You and your friend Kirby "provided" the world with love (and you will continue to do so too!)
All living things come together, merge, fall apart--come together again, as one really.
Here is a big hug for you and your Mrs. {{{{{{{{{Daryl and Mrs}}}}}}}}}}
I am thinking of you!
Love,
Patti

Daryl,

I am so sorry for your loss. I do have to say that I loved your description of her dashing toward the beach. I'm sure that's exactly what Kirby is doing. I will be thinking of you and your wife.

Jackie

Daryl,

Don't fool yourself. I have no doubt that she was JUST as bonded to you as you were to her. We take the ones we love for granted.

I would like to thank you for being so brave - letting your face be the last thing she saw before she left this world. It's the hardest thing for us to do but we owe them that at least. They teach us so much - often more when they leave than when they were with us.

Look out for Edgar and Jesse, Kirby. New friends on a new journey.

I'm so sorry to hear of your loss of Kirby. I was going to respond yesterday but I was crying so hard by the time I got to the end of the posts that I just couldn't.

You and your wife are very brave and courageous. I'm truely fortunate that I didn't have to make such a decision for Ava. She departed on her own schedule. In a weird sort of way, I'm jealous (sp?). It's 4 weeks ago today that I last put Ava out for the night after her usual indoor visit time and feeding (she was always an outdoor dog). When I put her out, I attached her to her chain/cable run as usual and she got the usual pettings. I wish I'd known that it was her last night, so I could have spent some more time with her, telling her how much I loved and cared for her and a few more pettings. That's what I am jealous about, I never got to say good bye.

Your &%^ogy in the other thread about 'heartquakes' was excellent. The 'anniversary thing' is horrible and I hope you have an easier time than I am having with them. 4 weeks isn't very long really, it just feels like forever. Eventually when enough time has passed, all our hurts won't hurt as much. Auto pilot engaged...

Gort,

Not getting to say goodbye is terrible. I'm so sorry!

There just is no easy way....

Your screen name has me thinking of one of my favorite movies (I think you can guess which one it is). I wish we had Gort's power to restore life, even temporarily, so we could say goodbye and show our most intense love for as long a time as we're granted. I'd run down the street screaming "Klaatu, barada nicto!" at the top of my lungs if it would bring my loved ones back.

Running on autopilot here, too. I'm sitting at work, but my mind is anywhere but on doing a job. Some people can just lose themselves in their work when they're grieving. I've never managed to learn that trick.

Best wishes and deepest sympathies,

-- Daryl


PS: This place makes me cry, too. But the warmth and love warm my heart.

Daryl,

I'm so sorry about Kirby. As you know, I have been caught up in my own problems, I didn't read your post till now. It sounds like you're a really strong person to be going through all this. My dog is the only pet I've lost that I've ever known for almost 16 years. It's sad, but he may be the longest relationship I've ever had in my life with any person or any animal, outside my human family members. It's really emotionally exhausting. It sounds like you did everything right by Kirby and I'm glad you got to spend those last days with her. I know she loves you and thanks you for loving her and doing everything you did for her.