MacKenzie and her siblings, born feral around Sept 2002, hailed from a local animal services center. Their fate was slim and I decided to take the little family home to tame them and find them homes. MacKenzie was the first of her siblings who tamed and from that first step towards me, she and I were BFFs. Additionally, she started exhibiting many behaviors and mannerisms specific to my cat, Dominoe, who went to heaven in 2000. She even looked like Dominoe. For the last almost 12 years, I had the pleasure and honor to have both my girls by my side.

I lost my beloved MacKenzie, Friday evening, 11 July 2014, right after getting her home from gallbladder removal surgery that Thursday, 10 July. Her health had been failing for about a year and a half. Despite a period of reprieve in 2013, weight loss resumed late last year – early this year, and supportive therapies were having little success. She became very thin again, struggling with in appetence, and generally not participating in life. For the last few months, she moped around the house and mostly slept deep under the bed. To encourage her to eat, I would give her valium and canned food, including AD, to entice her to eat. She would rarely eat without the Valium. The first ultra sound in April 2013, showed a slight shadow in her gallbladder. This past June, the shadow was definitive, thus indicative of a stone or stones. As she was asymptomatic except for this test result, my vet and I decided to resume supportive therapies in March. It was becoming more and more difficult to medicate her. She was not happy; there was a haunting sadness in her eyes. I had not seen her sleep in her favorite spots for months. She remained in a depressed and wasted state.

Supported by my vet, I made the difficult decision for MacKenzie to have this surgery, hoping to restore her health while her vital signs and chemistry results were still good. She championed through the surgery and was recovering well. The gallbladder was removed; the surgeon found a stone the size of a pea (the gallbladder in a cat is only the size of a pecan). When I went to pick her up Friday afternoon, she felt very cold. Her temperature had dropped 5 degrees in about 4 hours, which was the last time her temperature was checked. She was transitioning from IV fluid support to tube feeding and fluids through her feeding tube. Not only was she very cold to the touch when I first saw her, she was weak and unable to walk. I sat with her wrapped in blankets and heating pads for an hour. Her temperature was up by a degree, all vital signs were good. She was still weak and not able to walk without stumbling, but the vet thought she was OK to go home given all the other positive vital signs.

Once home, I settled her in my upstairs bathroom, where I was going to rehabilitate her in the company of a little kitten, Ariel, who is also recovering from trauma. Within an hour MacKenzie was gone. The last time I checked on her, I shifted her position to get her comfortable as I noticed her breathing was a bit raspy. She stretched and took one more breath and was gone. The agony I felt was indescribable.

I have been involved in animal rescue for many years and have a large, mostly aging, multi-species animal household. Unfortunately, loss is a very real and frequent part of my life. Loss is never easy. Some loss is better to process than others; MacKenzie makes 10 for just this year. Losing MacKenzie is as heart wrenching as losing my Molly this past Jan. In many ways, she is my worst loss ever. My heart is broken and my brain is screaming to understand. An autopsy revealed an ailing heart. It is possible she had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM) and perhaps her heart couldn’t process a blood clot or some residual stress from the surgery/anesthesia. Despite the fact that she championed through the surgery, something happened to cause the sudden death. Biopsy were submitted and provided no answers as to cause of death. They showed secondary organ issues from the malfunctioning gallbladder. Her pancreas was not well, her small intestine was inflamed and infected, her lymph nodes working over time, she was anemic from chronic disease... It has been an insane exercise to try and find answers and meaning while my own heart is barely beating. My will to live is only alive as many at home still depend on me.

I have read and re-read all of the things I have gathered about dealing with loss over the years. I have researched further and found this site and read extensively on it. My heart only aches more, and I now also feel the pain from everyone else.

Since losing MacKenzie, I have been in a silent, agonizing scream, seemingly frozen for all time. It has been only two weeks. I feel in some respects she has been gone forever for all the energy I have expended in cycling endlessly through blame, guilt, shame, anger. Mostly, just the gut-wrenching agony I felt when she slipped away as I tried to ease her position. Her final breath. My silent scream in slow motion. Assaults from very dark places. The futile attempts to revive her... OMG...

I see that painting, The Scream, like a movie reel stuck on one frame. I can't breathe.

Dear Monique.

So very sorry for your loss. Losing a pet is as you said an undescribable agony. We've all been there on this site - unfortunately and it never gets easier. Infact I think each one gets harder, because I've found myself clinging to them harder and harder each time.

You did all you could and I know it doesn't help to say this, but beating yourself up isn't going to accomplish anything. It'll take time. You'll learn to live with this loss. I have (I think). I miss my babies everyday as much as the day they left me. That will never change. And I will love them more than I did yesterday. All I hope for is that when my time comes I will be with them for all eternity (no, I'm not religious, but I need to believe that there is something after this life).

Please be kind to yourself. This is a great website. I found it a week or so before we had to make the decision to let Hunny go and that was one of the most awful times of my life. I couldn't stop crying. I am not very good at this, but there are many people here who offer great support and know exactly what to say.

That last breath (scream) you mention - I've heard that. It's very haunting. I've also watched the life fade from my Lily's eyes. That I have to say was the very worst of everything I've been through.

Anyway, I cannot go into the loss of Lily six years ago. That one still hurts like it just happened.

Please take care.

Lynette.

Hi, Monique, please permit me to add my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved MacKenzie. Losing a companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we are blessed with the privilege of their company. As heartbreaking as it is, your beloved MacKenzie transitioned home to the angels in the place she loves the most - - her home surrounded by the sights, sounds, and smells familiar to her, and the presence of her loving Forever Mom.

Each of our companions have their own special place in our hearts, yet the grief adjustment journey for some physical losses can be harder than others. This doesn't mean we love some companions more than others - - or that our "connection" with some of them is less important. It simply means that some bonds with our companions - - similar to some bonds we have with human family members and friends - - are uniquely special.

Monique, one of the many emotions EACH of us experience during the grief journey is guilt / remorse, and it is one of the hardest emotions to reconcile because it comes from looking back and trying to reconcile all the things that happened that didn't make sense at the time they were occurring, and all the whys, what if's, and if only's that haunt our hearts and minds at a time when we are emotionally vulnerable. As with human medicine, sometimes an autopsy can pose more questions than provide answers, yet the clues are still there in the evidence letting you know that your beloved MacKenzie's body was very fragile from the many medical challenges that were taking a serious toll.

As our forum correspondent Lynette has already so compassionately shared with you, so I affirm her words of comfort: You did everything in your power to give your beloved MacKenzie a happy, healthy earthly journey. I hope someday you will be able to find peace in your heart that your beloved MacKenzie knows you love her, and she is forever blessed to have you for her Forever Mom.

Although this grief journey is one of the most painful experiences you will know on this side of eternity, there is one thing that will never change: the love bond you and your beloved MacKenzie share. Love is eternal - - it is not restricted to the physical laws of time and space. Your beloved MacKenzie'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 - - 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 there are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the searing pain of sorrow. Still I hope 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 much for honoring us in sharing your beloved MacKenzie with us, and this wonderful picture of your beautiful girl. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Monique, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Lynette,

Thank you so very much for you kindness and attentiveness to my loss. When I first found this site, I ran into your post about Hunny. The community here is so supportive. There is a commonality - we all understand and feel the pain.

There is a blog I refer to often: http://christinekane.com/on-losing-a-belov...p.vy43XCSm.dpbs. I found it when I lost my Molly this past Jan. Mini-doxie, infection, largely unexplained. Eating and happy and vocal Friday night. Gone, just like that by Monday afternoon. My little soul peep. Another silent scream. The scream continues, just quieter. It always hovers.

This blog post by Christine Kane is the singularly most succinct and on-point writing about loss I have ever read. I have also read each and every comment and visit often. The comments, stories of those who have lost, are hurting, and are grieving deeply, have helped me as much as the blog. Maybe even more, as it helps me to know I'm not alone. And it's OK to grieve deeply over the loss of a furred or feathered child. People who do not have a profound love for animals just Do.Not.Understand.

I never really get over a loss. It just kind of simmers forever. People have said that in time you remember the good times and move on. I do remember the good times, and then always sadness, knowing that the physical presence I also fell in love with, is... gone.

Healing travels to you. XO

Hi Monique.

I can totally relate to what you are saying about remembering the good times and then the sad shows up. Sometimes, I can push that sadness away, but other times, like last night on my way home, the tears fell. And that heartbreak is just as fresh as it first was.

I will have to check out the blog you spoke of.

I hope today you are feeling a little better. I know how hard it is to go on with life. I wish I could just turn back time so many times. There would be things I would very definitely do differently. I would hug a lot more. I would kiss them a lot more. I must drive my pups crazy with the constant hugging and kissing. But in all honestly, I do it because I am so afraid of losing them. I've lost a few pets over the years, but losing Lily was definitely one of the hardest and the one that put life in to perspective for me. And I must admit I think I sank into a depression after losing her. Often, when I'm hugging and kissing them all good night, I send a kiss and a hug up to them.

Anyway, better go. Please take care.

Lynette.

Thank you so very much for your personalized note of heartfelt wisdoms, insight, and support. I noticed from reading through this site when I first found it, that you take the time to respond to every entry about loss. How wonderful is that!

I am slowly rejoining the living. Yesterday I spent several hours on the phone with my Reiki and energy healer friend, Kristine. I "met" her years ago through animal rescue channels, as she is highly respected by animal rescuers. She helped me with my cat, Carmen, in 2011, when she was near death from intestinal cancer. Kristine tapped into MacKenzie and we had a profoundly insightful and healing conversation about MacKenzie, understanding how animals deal with life on earth and its challenges, coping with loss and life on earth. As I'm transitioning through all the stages of grief, I have been particularly struck by the anger I have felt. Never to this level. Seething, at times, towards the vet, the surgeon, the so-called friends I have locally who have not been there for me… The MacKenzie trial has opened up my eyes about veterinary medicine, the capitalizing on pet owner’s desperations to prolong the lives of their dear animal companions and the experimentation taking place behind the scenes (recall all the biopsies taken that I did not authorize). I am sending out forgiveness and closing the door on my anger. It has served its purpose.

The very best news was to confirm that MacKenzie is doing well, understands that I was trying to help her, and, when the time is right, she will return as a kitten with no congenital issues. I learned through Kristine that the surgery was the wrong decision, that the health issues she had been dealing with, including her heart, precluded that the surgery would fail, even at first diagnosis in early 2013. My initial response was that I wished I had contacted Kristine before the surgery. After giving this pause and thought, I am starting to accept how she passed and that it was for the best. Without the surgery, she would have continued to fail and I would have watched her waste away further. I would have had to make the painful decision to help her pass, watch her die at home, or find her already dead. I am thankful I was spared these alternatives. MacKenzie did wait for me and she was thankful to still be able to pass at home.

I will be attending a workshop Kristine offers every September, during which she helps participants restart and rebuild their cosmic energies. I will rebuild my energies and my world so that the gray filter that has covered things literally and figuratively for long, will be lifted.

In addition to support from this site, my friend, Lois, has been there for me every step of the way, from when I was agonizing over MacKenzie's failing health, the decision to have the surgery, and everything after that. She has listened to me patiently as I have talked for hours about every possible aspect of this passing, and then offered her insights, experiences, and support. I can't thank her enough for that. The same goes for my sister-in-law, Tricia. Neither live nearby, but their efforts to be there for me bridged the physical distance challenge.

Hi Lynette,

Thank you for being on this site and returning to offer further support. I just responded to moon-beam’s heartfelt note to me. Please read this and see if this offers you any comfort. I am so sorry you are still hurting so from losing your sweet Lily. Continue to send hugs and kisses to those you have lost.

I will gladly share more information from my conversation with Kristine. It has helped me greatly and I’m seeing the light at the end of my grief tunnel. I think it will help you understand how animals handle their station here on earth. I remember Kristine telling me all of this when my sweet little karamba, Carmen, was dying. I just didn’t believe it at the time. I do now. It is helping me heal and I pray that the silent screams I have been carrying with me for so many who have passed, will finally stop.

((((hugs))))

Hi, Monique, thank you so very much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please let me try to reassure you that what you are going through is very normal deep grief - - very painful both emotionally and physically, yes, - - still very normal.

I am so very glad you are having support and comfort from some of the people in your life. Although clinical professionals recognize that the grief journey for the physical loss of a beloved companion is the same as for a human family member or friend, sadly our society in general, and sometimes the people who are closest to us emotionally and geographically, do not. This is one of the many reasons why this wonderful forum was developed to be a safe place where we can come to share what is in our hearts and on our minds with those who truly do understand what we are going through. Please know we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

Monique, from first hand experience I truly do understand how you have agonized over the events of what happend with your beloved MacKenzie treatment-wise. I went through a similar experience with my beloved number one kitty son Eli several years ago when he was diagnosed with end stage Lymphoma in 2006. That experience taught me many things that saw me through the diagnosis of end stage Fibrosarcoma of my beloved beautiful kitty Abbygayle in 2009. The approach to her treatment was significantly different which included having a more compassionate veterinary care provider overseeing her care. As with human medicine, the same practical advice applies to veterinary medicine: Just because a procedure CAN be done does not mean that it is appropriate for it to be done. There comes a point in time when "quality" of life is the primary focus rather than "quantity" of earthly existence. Coming to this understanding when our hearts are longing for our companions to be restored to good health is not an easy journey. You, Monique, did everything in your power to give your beloved MacKenzie a happy, healthy earthly journey with the information and resources you had at any given time. I'm so very glad your friend Kristine has been able to help you find some peace in your heart.

Scientifc studies prove that every living being has an "energy" and every member of the "unit" benefits from the "energy" provided by each individual member. When a member of the unit is no longer present - - for whatever reason - - the remaining members go through a period of "re-establishing" the "unit" and the accompanying "energy". During this time it can also feel like the structure of the house is also grieving the physical loss of the "unit" member. I'm glad your friend Kristine offers classes that will help you, and others, find a way to refresh your "energy".

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

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you, moon_beam, for being there for so, so many. I am finding healing in trying to help others. The pain people feel is so very intense. I feel this pain empathically. I hope I can help others. There is light at the end of the tunnel. I'm praying the path I'm on will "silence" the agonizing screams I hear and feel from my many losses.

Thank you for being there!

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. It is written that in helping others, comforting others, we too find help and comfort in return. We are blessed to have you here with us, and hope you are finding comfort, support, encouragement, and hope from each of us as you travel your grief adjustment journey.

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

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you for your continued care and concern. I'm telling everyone about this site. It is amazing. I've never found a forum where the administrator and moderator are so active. There is a sense of community here. Genuine people who need help and try to help others. A commonality despite worlds of differences.

I realize in what I have written to others how far I have come in my journey. I still get deep pangs of pain and a myriad of other explosively negative feelings. But not as often, and when I do, I force myself to steer into a positive direction. I don't dwell on the last vision of MacKenzie. Instead, I see her in a basket, as in the pic I posted here, far off in the distance. The rest of the picture, i.e., the surroundings and such, are blurred out. It's all kind of hazy and cloudy gray beyond her image and the basket. The key here is that the picture has no trauma or pain in it whatsoever. MacKenzie is happy and healthy in the picture, her eyes clear, bright and full of love and understanding.

I'm still haunted by the fact that she spent her last night on earth in a steel holding area at the vet. I push this away as fast as I can and remind myself that she did have blankets from home, that she was in no pain as she was on IV pain meds, and that her ensuing exit from this world was quick and peaceful. The alternatives, as I've mentioned in my previous posts, are too much to bear, the potential for having to make the heart-wrenching decision to have the vet help her to heaven, or seeing her waste away and collapse at home, or finding her passed away somewhere before I could get to her... So I'm starting to accept that this was the best way for her to go.

And so the negotiations between the &%^ytical and emotional sides of my brain continue.

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. As you may know, clincial studies prove that when a traumatic event is experienced - - and clinical professionals recognize that the physical loss of a beloved companion qualifies as a traumatic event - - that the event of the trauma are imprinted on the brain and is replayed like a video stuck in that one place - - like viewing clips of a disaster event that are constantly played and replayed on the news.

Several years ago I was a victim of an event that permanently changed my life physically, emotionally, and spiritually. With the help of a very compassionate and qualified professional counselor he helped me with techniques that would significantly reduce the trauma of the flashbacks. The primary technique he helped me acquire is exactly the one in which you are using as you share with us: "I still get deep pangs of pain and a myriad of other explosively negative feelings. But not as often, and when I do, I force myself to steer into a positive direction. I don't dwell on the last vision of MacKenzie. Instead, I see her in a basket, as in the pic I posted here, far off in the distance. . . . The key here is that the picture has no trauma or pain in it whatsoever. MacKenzie is happy and healthy in the picture, her eyes clear, bright and full of love and understanding." This is how your beloved MacKenzie wants you to remember her, Monique. It does take a concerted effort to do the technique, particularly when the trauma images are highly painful, but it does eventually work, and I'm very glad you are being able to find success using this technique.

Unfortunately the "analysis negotiations" are a normal part of this grief adjustment journey, and equally unfortunately they can only be navigated one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, in your own way and in your own time. But please know we are here for you, with you, and beside you to share the not so bad days, the not so good days, and the days when your heart may still feel the excruciating pain of deep sorrow for as long and as often as you need us.

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

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you, moon_beam, for your on point response. Your timing is also very healing, as today I had a major set back. I felt it coming. The third anniversary of MacKenzie's passing, 7pm, Friday, 11 July. ... *Reflective, painful pause* ...

...

Last week my friends, Deb and Paul, invited me over for this evening. I thought I was ready. I'm not. Saturdays are very busy days for me as that is when I have to do major habitat cleaning (birds, guinea pigs, rabbits...). I woke up in anxiety and panic, did manage to get things done. As the day progressed, I saw my chances of heading out the door get dimmer. I texted I would be late. It was only a delay of the inevitable: cancellation, which I did a few minutes ago. My heart and soul need rest and quiet. I'm not in a social mood, I cannot phantom driving nearly an hour across town and then driving home again after putting on a social face I don't feel. I texted that I hoped they understood. A message back from Paul. He doesn't understand...

I think it's just a misunderstanding, but the "Do not understand" message is rather ironic. They do not view animals the way I do. They lost their teenage daughter to cancer about 11 years ago. They had a cat and a dog. They gave their dog away to a neighbor because he was no longer "convenient" for their lifestyle. The cat's health was failing at the time, and they let her hang on until it was time, with no particular attachment or emotion.

I realize that not only am not ready to socialize and but I also don't know what to do about this relationship, I cannot hang around people who do not share my profound love for animals and my deep commitment to the disadvantaged. (I have had and have many special needs peeps...) I would need to talk about MacKenzie now and for some time in the future. My loss is so fresh and the progress I have made in healing so fragile. If I would have gone tonight, and would have felt the need to justify my deep devotion and love for MacKenzie. How could they understand? They value human life above all else. Their beloved daughter. The "it's only a cat" looms...

I'm in retreat.

I'm so very sorry Monique. Not everyone gets that a pet is not just a pet to us. Heck, most of us don't refer to them as pets. These are our children, our sons, our daughters, our family. And like in every family, sometimes there's a deeper connection between two. I've loved and lost many family members, both of the two and four legged versions, but my Ollie is my baby. And that's that.

Thank you so much for your words. A new day dawns, the struggle continues. You are right that to animal lovers, their furred and feathered are not "just animals." What man conveniently forgets through all his "superior wisdom," is that he, too, is an animal. The right to life, to a good and loving life, and respect for life applies to ALL, not just man.

I resolve today to stop worrying about what those who do not bond with animals like I do think, about upseting them. Last night I was more worried about how my friends would feel with yet another cancellation. It's just not about them and it's not my ordnance to get them to understand how much this loss means to me. It's not just about MacKenzie. Loss in my world is very complicated and multi-dimensional. I often wish I could retreat to my bubble, where I was blissfully unaware about man's malicious treatment of all life and the planet that provides so beautifully for him. The more I learned about the plight of animals in trying to help, the more desperate I became, to the point of losing compassion for my fellow man. In retreat from active rescue, I'm focusing on helping one at a time, because (as the starfish saver story tells), for that one, I have made all the difference. There are many loving and kindhearted people out there, and that is important to always remember.

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I can so relate to many of your thoughts and struggles to find an "equilibrium" right now as you travel your grief adjustment journey. Please let me try to reassure you that you are NOT alone.

In my human family I am the "dark horse" because of my beliefs about the non-human inhabitants of this planet, and specifically about my relationship with my precious companions - - beliefs I have had since I was a very young child and the only one in my family to have them - - and to be critically ridiculed for them even to this point in time in my life by my siblings - - which is one of the many reasons why we are not "close". While I love my siblings because they are my human family and want each of them to be safe, happy, and healthy, there is no other "common thread" that holds us together. My precious companions accept me for who I am rather than my social standing, financial wealth (and lack thereof), or what others think of me.

It is here that I have been able to find a common bond with people who truly share the same / similar beliefs that I do - - that our precious companions are living, breathing, feeling souls and spirits who bless us with their unconditional love and undivided attention - - who make us the center of their universe - - and the love bond we share with them is eternal. It is here that I have found people you so poignantly share with us: "There are many loving and kindhearted people out there, and that is important to always remember." Thank you, Monique, for being here with us.

It is important that you try to limit contact right now with people who cannot be supportive for you during your grief adjustment journey. I remember all too well having to put on the "public face" at work (while I was employed) and around my family members after one of my beloved companions transitioned home to the angels. And I remember the flood gates of tears bursting forth uncontrollably as I got in my car to drive home to release the pressure of grief and sorrow from my heart and soul. You need to do what is healthy for YOU, Monique, until you feel strong again to "face the world" in the relationships you value.

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

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I understand the “dark horse” syndrome all too well. I was labeled the “black sheep” growing up. Tacked on to that was that I tended to be pessimistic and negative. It took me well into my 40s to shake these labels. Being different in my family was (is) against cardinal family rule number one. Being different was not sanctioned and approved by the clan, and therefore I was criticized and condemned, rather than celebrated. I am no longer in touch with my family, or my one child. I found I could no longer cope with all their toxicity and chose to exit as a matter of survival.

And so this all fits in with my anger phase. I feel stuck in this phase. I feel ill at ease, irritated with my life, my animals. Misdirected, as its People I feel sick about. Expectations. It’s still so hard for me to really stand on my own two feet in my thinking. Although I do plenty of that, I’m so unsure and it doesn’t feel natural. All of my life I have been and done to appease others, measured my happiness based on the expectations of others. Add to that a lifestyle of rescuing animals that is not main stream. Having a lot of animals is definitely frowned upon. In the same breath, I am the first to be judged and the first to get a call if there is an animal in need. No matter how I try to ralign and realign my expectations of people, I feel left and disappointed by those I thought I could count on. I have cleaned house; there is virtually no one left! And now in my sadness and despair for MacKenzie, I am upset I feel anger. There is not room for this! It’s taking up valuable resources. I thought I was moving past the anger after my conversation with Kristine. Exasperating how the grief stages cycle…

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Indeed, this grief journey is filled with many ups and downs, twists and turns, and turnarounds - - particularly during the deep grief. Anger is a natural part of this grief journey - - one emotion among many that we ALL endure through. So please let me try to reassure you that what you are experiencing is a very normal part of this grief adjustment journey.

I know what it's like to think some people can be relied upon when needed only to find out the opposite is true. It not only is disappointing but the realization adds to the frustration, grief, and - - anger. Because we are emotional beings by nature our emotions cannot be "turned on / off" like an electric switch - - we are not mechanical robots in an age of high technology.

I can relate to the "focus" of your life as you share with us: "All of my life I have been and done to appease others, measured my happiness based on the expectations of others." I was raised to do the same and have always been the one who has been expected to "change" to appease the whims of the moment of everyone else while I was expected to accept everyone on their terms. Now that I am in my senior years I have finally been able to acquire a decent acceptance of who I am as an individual person. However, I still experience vulnerable moments when I am emotionally vulnerable - - such as grieving the physical loss of a beloved companion. Grieving is not an "isolated" event - - it can stir up emotions from other experiences that we may have thought had been resolved or that we never realized were significant.

Please let me try to reassure you that you are on the "right path" to finding a peace in your heart. I do know how challenging the process is, and how frustrating it is because it takes time which can seem soooooo slow. Just remember it is the tortoise who wins the race - - not the hare - - and equally important - - please know each of us are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

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

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I looked forward to your response, searching for comfort and knowing you would be right around the corner. You relate so very well. I thank you for you kind words of understanding and encouragement. I will refer back to them often. I am going into my evening with a little ray of sunshine and hope. There are also some recent posts that have really tugged at my heart. The one about Sarah... and Hershey...

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. There were several things I learned while I was in years of intensive physical rehab from severe injuries. One of them is that sometimes the process of putting our lives back to some semblence of sanity means reaching out to others who are also hurting as we share their challenges through the tears of our own. I saw many people who were suffering through more grievously severe injuries than my own and I realized the depth of the many lessons of thankfulness that I learned from my mother who was also a victim of the same severe trauma event and who succumbed to her injuries 6 weeks later.

As each of us come here broken and reeling from the deepest pain we will know on this side of eternity from the physical loss of our beloved companions, there are no strangers here. Although we will probably never meet during our earthly journeys, we share a friendship that unites us - - for our beloved companions in their continued mission to provide for us brings us here where we can find comfort, support, encouragement, and hope from those who truly understand what we are going through, and with whom we can share what is in our hearts without fear of judgment or rejection. Sharing the loss of others does not diminish our own deepest sorrow - - but in sharing our grief together we hopefully find that the weight of our individual burdens is lifted just a little.

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

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Tabitha went to be with her beloved Nicholas 8/4/2014. Nicholas succumbed to cancer 1/10/2014. He was her one true love. After Nicholas passed, Tabitha was sad and depressed. I was fortunate enough to integrate her with Parsley, who snuggled with her and loved her until she had to go.

Tabitha had been plagued with arthritis in her back feet for well over a year. Her toes faced completely inward. I had to move her and Nicholas to a completely flat portion of the rabbit habitat, line it with towels and a little bed. I amended her litter box so it was low entry and lined with a puppy pad for her ease of navigation. She managed very well and her mobility remained good. Then, I knew in the days prior to her passing that her time was near. She was trying to hide, her output was not good, and her breathing was more rapid and labored. As I do every evening, I visit with each of my rabbits and guinea pigs and give them a treat, a yogurt drop or grape or blackberry. That is my final check on them before going to bed, a check to be sure everyone is doing well. The night of 3 August, she did not come for her treat, but was alert and happy to get a little snack before bed. The night of 4 August, Tabitha did not come either and when I entered her habitat, she was not responsive. I sat down with her and offered her all her favorite treats: banana, yogurt drops, blackberry. She ate them all, very slowly. I then syringe fed her some cranberry juice and was getting ready to clean her up when I noticed she was in open mouth breathing. Not long after, she took her last breath.

My heart hurts. I am also relieved that she is now with her beloved Nicholas and free of her arthritis.

She was a rescue about 10 - 11 years ago from an apartment complex where her owner had put her outside in a makeshift triangular wire mesh habitat that was barely big enough to turn around. The door was not secure and she was repeatedly found running around outside. A concerned neighbor contacted me and I went to investigate. She came home with me that night. For her entire life with me, she had territoriality issues. She would lunge at me and bite whenever I neared. I lost count of the number of times my ankles were bitten. When her feet became too arthritic to reach her ears, I would scratch for her, careful to stay away from her mouth. I was thankful she had such loving companions throughout the years, mostly Nicholas and then Parsley for a brief period. She never cared for humans. I was happy to provide her with all the creature comforts and safety she needed throughout her life, and feel a heaviness in my heart that she never warmed up to me during our time together on earth.

This passing is very different from losing MacKenzie. Losing Tabitha marks the end of a very long life on earth (for a bunny), a life she would not have had were it not for my intervention all those years ago. I know she is in a better place and with her Nicholas again. Again, I am processing the multi-dimensionality of this loss, as my mind travels over all the ones I have lost, the many still to come, the plight of animals and the masses who never know that life on earth can be free of abuse and hunger. I don't feel the gut-wrenching pain I have with losing MacKenzie. Just a deep sadness that she never bonded with me.

(I am now working to integrate Parsley with Bentley. I hope they will eventually accept each other as friends and snuggle partners.)

Nicholas (front) and Tabitha, BFFs 4ever

Tabitha and Parsley

Bentley

Hi, Monique, please permit me to offer you my sincerest sympathies in the physical losses of your beloved Nicholas and Tabitha. How blessed your beloved Tabitha, and Nicholas, are to have you for their Forever Mom. Although Tabitha may not have recovered from her fear of humans while under your care, she knows you love her and is eternally grateful for all your tender care through the years of her earthly journey. YOU are the one who held her close as she made her transition journey home to the angels - - it is your heartbeat she takes with her to eternal joy, and it will be your heartbeat that holds her sweet Living Spirit, as well as your beloved Nicholas. I hope in time you will be able to find a peace in your heart that your beloved Tabitha will be among all your beloved companions greeting you when it is your appropriate time to join them in eternal joy - - for you are her sole, and soul, heir to her eternal love.

Thank you so much for honoring us in sharing your beloved Nicholas and Tabitha with us, and these wonderful pictures of your companions. I hope your precious Parsley and Bentley will become great friends finding comfort and enjoyment with each other's company. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Monique, that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and all of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you, as always, for your attentiveness and support, moon_beam. I was kind of on auto pilot this past week, praying for peace. This is the 4th week anniversary of MacKenzie's passing and this morning I'm hit with guilt. That last morning, seeing her at the food bowl. Was she trying to tell me she didn't want to go? I scooped her up at that point and put her in a crate I had prepared for her in the garage, where she stayed until I finished getting ready. She trusted me with her life and I failed her. Guilt. What a horrible grief stage. From http://christinekane.com/on-losing-a-belov...p.Gzawi5FH.dpbs,

"Guilt

Guilt will sneak in at unexpected moments, telling you that you did it wrong, that you didn’t do enough, that you caused this to happen, or that it’s all your fault.

Guilt is tricky. It seems like situations cause it to rise up out of nowhere. But really, guilt just hangs around, waiting in the wings – and it waits to find the perfect situation to make an entrance.

In the highly charged situation of a sick pet who doesn’t have a voice, guilt is always available to fill the silent spaces. And it serves no purpose.

You find your pet, you love your pet, and you do the best you can. That’s all you can do.

That’s what you did."

How many times I have already referred to this passage! Regardless, I never feel like I do enough, like I failed my peeps somehow, somewhere along their earthly journey. I was SO sure I had made the right decision to have the surgery. I was convinced I was saving her life, and instead, I ended it!!!

The pain is searing. I will have to repeat the last sentence of the quoted passage, "You find your pet, you love your pet, and you do the best you can. That’s all you can do.", to make it through today.

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I can relate to your feelings when you share with us: "I was SO sure I had made the right decision to have the surgery. I was convinced I was saving her life, and instead, I ended it!!!" Monique, you made the best decision you could with the information you had at the time from the veterinary care provider. You were in the position ALL of us find ourselves at one time or another as the saying goes "darned if you and darned if you don't." Your decision to give your beloved MacKenzie every opportunity possible was the RIGHT one for the both of you. If you hadn't approved the surgery, then you would now be wondering "what if I had" - - and you would be dealing with a different type of guilt. I hope in time you will be able to find a peace in your heart that your beloved MacKenzie KNOWS you ALWAYS had her best interests at heart with the decisions you made on her behalf.

As I mentioned, I do understand how you're feeling as I have made decisions on behalf of each of my companions - - some of which turned out to be not as promising as I had hoped. When my beloved beautiful feline baby girl Abbygayle was diagnosed with end stage Fibrosarcoma I opted for a series of surgeries to remove the tumors. The first two surgeries went well, and she recovered easily from them. The third surgery, however, was the "final blow" to her spirit. Normally a very docile personality she made it known under no circumstances that she was not pleased with having had another surgery, and I could tell that she was very tired from the ordeal. I promised her no more surgeries, and from that point forward it was a matter of keeping her as happy and comfortable as possible for as long as possible. It was a matter of days after the third surgery before the tumors reappeared - - with a vengeance - - and it was just a matter of weeks when I knew beyond all shadow of a doubt that it was time to release my beautiful baby girl's sweet Living Spirit from her frail, failing physical body. If I had "known" how the third surgery would affect my baby girl I would not have subjected her to it. But I know I did the best I could for her, and I do not have the nagging "what if" to deal with.

Making decisions for our companions who cannot speak to us in a common language is always a challenge. Unfortunately our companions do not come with an "owner's manual" of instructions of what / what no to do for them. Every decision is individually made based on the information we have at any given time. I hope as you travel your grief adjustment journey you will find comfort in your heart from Christine Kane's wise words: ". . . guilt is always available to fill the silent spaces. And it serves no purpose. You find your pet, you love your pet, and you do the best you can. That’s all you can do. That’s what you did."

I hope today is treating you and all your precious companions kindly, Monique, that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and all of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Let me first thank you, moon-beam, for your words. Everything you say is so on point and hugely comforting. You understand so, so well.

Anger and disappointment are rearing their heads in the aftermath of this weekend. Losing MacKenzie has been so huge in my life. I’m at a cross roads where I desperately need to find a way to cope with this and future loss. I cannot continue to fall apart like I have over MacKenzie, hence my intense struggle to get back on my feet.

I knew I would lose a lot in a short period of time years ago. So many near the same age, accepting them into their forever home with me as opposed to continuing to try and find homes. They had all been with me already for too long. I promised to take care of them until they are called home to be with God.

This past weekend, I fell into a dark hole, so sad MacKenzie is gone. The Guilt. I decided to cancel a friend coming by to help me clean up storm damage. I needed to be in a very, very quiet place, like a mouse sitting in a trance in the hopes nothing and no one would be able to do harm. I was assaulted Sunday afternoon with an email from Lois. I had leaned on her heavily recently. Her words, “… I'm surprised and sad that you cancelled with Michael. Your life would have been better if he had come. Canceling with humans should not be a trend. What is the plan for taking care of those things that he offered to do for you. When you cancel, it is a rejection of the love extended by others; and I think that can be very hurtful, and somewhat bewildering. Others know you are hurting, and try to help. Please don't shut the door on them. I don't mean to lecture, but I care too, and I'm concerned about the path you are choosing.”

Her words have hit the most painful possible nerve. Seriously? Now I have to feel badly for supposedly hurting others? I have spent my entire life caring for and catering to others!

First of all, for someone to come over, that means the whole house will be up, the dogs will be barking initially, too much noise and chaos for me to think about, esp. during the weekend, when I've had a whole week of rat race and forced intersection with my own kind. Noise and chaos right now, however short-lived, are almost impossible to bear. I have a very quiet household, despite the numbers, and crave quiet in general. Now more than ever.

I need to do whatever to get through my losses, to rebuild. There is no grand plan, only survival! I have lost already 11 this year, have two sick bunnies, a 17 1/2 year old cat who is hanging on for me (we are very close), a dog who is not eating, and God only knows who else is heading to heaven. There are so many more to go. I knew this was coming years ago. How to prepare? Well, there is no way to prepare. How is one supposed to behave dealing with this kind of loss? All things considered, I'm doing pretty well! If I have to go into a comatose mode at times to get through this, then that's what I'm going to do! My vet and many of my so-called friends have failed me. I thought I could count on Lois. Her lecture falls in the category of, “It’s just a cat.” I have no interest in talking with her further. I just can't. I left enough detail in my voicemail and will not explain further. I so often find myself in this self-defense posture, a habit I have tried ardently to break in recent years. This.Is.Just.Not.About.Others.

I am going to a quiet place for a while and am seriously limiting interaction with my own kind unless it is kind and loving. And without judgment.

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please let me try to reassure you that there are no judgments made here. Each of us here know the "survival mode" during the grief adjustment journey, and each of us must do this in his / her own way.

I truly am very sorry for the less than gracious e-mail you received from Lois. You explained very succiently how stressful it would be for Michael to come to your home right now to help when you share with us: "First of all, for someone to come over, that means the whole house will be up, the dogs will be barking initially, too much noise and chaos for me to think about, esp. during the weekend, when I've had a whole week of rat race and forced intersection with my own kind. Noise and chaos right now, however short-lived, are almost impossible to bear. I have a very quiet household, despite the numbers, and crave quiet in general. Now more than ever." I know EXACTLY how you feel, Monique, and I for one perfectly understand your need for quiet. Perhaps someday the opportunity will present itself for communication lines to open once again with Michael so that you can let him know you are not "rejecting" him - - but rather (to quote Captain Kirk of "Star Trek" fame) "the needs of the one outweighed the needs of the many" during your grief adjustment journeys. And equally important - - it is YOUR home he would be coming to, and you are permitted to determine who comes to your home and when that happens - - at YOUR convenience, not the visitor's.

Please know you have my highest admiration for taking care of so many precious souls who otherwise would not have the opportunity to know the loving heart and touch of a human guardian. Monique, it is YOUR love your precious charges take with them to hold onto while they patiently wait for your appropriate time to join them in eternal joy. I know your heart is breaking - - your sorrow is palpable in your words. And I know what it is like to lose one precious being with another precious one also actively making a transition journey. I hope you will continue to come here to share what is in your heart, - - and hope you will find kindness and acceptance in the responses from each of us.

I hope today is treating you and all your precious companions kindly, Monique, that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and all of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I am so grateful I found this site. Your attentiveness, moon_beam, has done so much to heal my heart, mind and soul, as I know you have done the same for so, so many others.

I did call Lois a few days ago and explained, calmly while being emphatic, how I felt and have since felt relief. Perhaps she was a person of a reason for being in my life, not a season, or a lifetime. I don't know. I'm so very much aware of how important setting boundaries is now. If something or someone is not a good influence in my life, then it is up to me to set boundaries and/or end the association.

I have felt a measure of calm the last few days regarding losing MacKenzie and so many others. A ray of hope that I am in fact healing. Even if this is only a tiny breeze in my journey, it is better than non-stop pain.

I have emailed LS Support to change the name of this entry, as I do not want to create new entries for everyone I lose. It's all connected. I have already added my sweet Tabitha...

Thank you again for helping me so substantially in my journey to healing.

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I'm glad you were able to talk to Lois, and hope she has graciously acknowledged and accepts your feelings and needs. You are definitely on the right track about relationships as you share with us: "I'm so very much aware of how important setting boundaries is now. If something or someone is not a good influence in my life, then it is up to me to set boundaries and/or end the association." I have been told throughout my life that I "have no rights", that anyone "can do to you (me) whatever they want" and that I "have nothing to say about it", and that "everything would be just fine if you (I) would change." It took me a very long time to come to the realization that I also have the right to determine what is acceptable and unacceptable in relationships, and now that I am in my senior years I have no intentions of "changing" to suit anyone else's whims of what they think I "should be" to be "suitable" to them at any given time. I have had to stand firm even with family members who often express their dismay at how "inferior" I am according to their standards.

It is perfectly your right to establish boundaries in your relationships, Monique - - on whatever level they may be - - and, for whatever worth my advice may be - - do not let anyone bully you into "submission".

I am glad you are beginning to feel some calm in your heart. It is as you so eloquently say "A ray of hope that I am in fact healing. Even if this is only a tiny breeze in my journey, it is better than non-stop pain."

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

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Your words, "It took me a very long time to come to the realization that I also have the right to determine what is acceptable and unacceptable in relationships, and now that I am in my senior years I have no intentions of "changing" to suit anyone else's whims of what they think I "should be" to be "suitable" to them at any given time. I have had to stand firm even with family members who often express their dismay at how "inferior" I am according to their standards." THANK YOU

I have a new situation: next post. It's actually not new, but rather ongoing, rubbed open and raw with the news of the death of a fellow rescuer, Donna Goss...

Last Friday, I learned of some news that caused another silent scream: the death of Donna Goss, an animal rescuer friend I had known for over ten years. I’m trying to remember when we started corresponding, for sure during the beginning years of heavy cross-posting to get animals help, when my own household was in constant flux from rescues coming and going, numbers climbing, decreasing, climbing again. How to deal with this insanity. The more I tried to help, the more desperate I felt. Donna’s stories and laments always had the same theme: hopelessness and helplessness for the plight of animals, nothing was ever enough, helping one guaranteed 100s more still in need right in one’s own neighborhood. Also, things were apparently always out of control at her home. So, so many, not enough controls, care a constant challenge. I could barely stand to hear details. I knew how desperate things could get in her situation. Anyone in rescue is aware. She lived south from me in Alabama, in a particularly rural area where animals were often neglected, abused, breeding unchecked, strays everywhere, the county shelter overflowing. This was the backdrop when Donna started complaining of pain. This went on for what seemed an eternity. Unexplained, persistent. Then the diagnosis: bone cancer, 2008.

A plea went out and most of her cats were adopted out or absorbed by individuals and rescue groups. News went virtually silent after that, and I left active rescue in 2009 to focus on the ones still at home and to remove myself from all the pain and suffering. A necessary retreat for survival. I met Donna for the first time late Spring 2011. She was helping a lady with two moms, their kittens, and most specifically, a special needs with cerebellar hypoplasia who needed safe haven. Turned out to be my home. Miranda could not be released back outside and I agreed to help. I believe the moms were altered and released, the kittens adopted out. I ended up taking 3 additional kittens from the same situation. Donna was struggling then with her health, I could tell. My heart hurt for her.

News again fell silent until last December. Donna’s cancer had gotten increasingly aggressive. She had to move from oral chemo to the IV method. It was seriously marginal as to her true candidacy for this extreme treatment. She felt she had no choice. The months from Jan through last Friday were agonizing, mostly for her animals at home as I was to find out. There were periods when I didn’t hear from her. I prayed things were stabilizing, even if temporarily. However, the chemo wasn’t working; it had spread to her brain and spinal cord. I found out she entered the hospital on Thurs., 7 Aug, entered hospice care Fri., and passed to God’s care on Mon., the 11th.

I have since found out the horrors her animals endured. Most of her cats were put to sleep. Sick, I was told. The truth was, they were nearly starved to death, when Donna lost touch, when her memory failed, her pain too severe. Where was her husband during this time? Did no one notice there was no food, that the animals were starving and turning into walking skeletons? One kitten, orange and white, went undetected. He was gravely ill, an abscessing hole in his forehead that traveled to the back of his neck, eyes matted shut. He was helped to heaven as soon as he was discovered by a friend who sped to her home to help and was only able to help one. One. How can this happen! I saw pictures of 65 cats in Jan., all healthy. There were sick ones at that time, I was told. What happened to them all? A few dozen went to rescue, some disappeared, some were found dead on the property, and the rest, except one,… were put to sleep because they were sick. Sick, perhaps. Starved nearly to death, for sure. A chocolate lab living with a German shepherd in a pen. Not socialized, the shepherd marked aggressive. Both aged, both cat aggressive, esp. the shepherd. Donna told me about this tormented soul. She loved Donna and her husband, adored her lab friend. Lack of controls in place cost many cats their lives when they got loose in this dog pen. A vet was called to the property after Donna died to assess. The German shepherd was put down. Now the lab no longer want s to live. She is extremely depressed and listless. She no doubt saw her friend die. No one is there to watch over her. She fed several cat colonies. What happened to them? Different stories: Oh, they have been relocated or dissolved, or, Well, we don’t know.

It is a scene of horrors. I hear the silent screams of all the cats, as their bodies screamed for nourishment. The violations in this house and yard are reprehensible. A failed commitment and then the primary caregiver dies, and that gives carte blanche to go on a killing spree? How can they play God so easily! The husband wanted the animals gone as they “reminded him of Donna”- most of her cats were killed the day BEFORE she died. Was that her wish, or was it the wish of her husband to have them all gone? He often heavily criticized having all the animals, Donna would tell me. He resented the damage to the house and property. So, yes, he wanted them gone. Not for the love of his Donna: for the love of himself. I believe all the cats are gone now. Several dogs remain…

What every animal rescuer dreads: what if something happens to me. Donna was a rescue mission gone bad. Too many animals, no controls, no regular schedule of care. Apparently only Donna knew who all she had. Until the cancer spread to her brain.

My biggest fear is for something to happen to me. I pray “it” can wait until my animals are gone, or most of them. I have provisions in place for care. Will that be enough….? I have had to repeat to myself, “Monique, you are not Donna…” Self-coaching like a broken record.

And so another rebuilding is in progress, to still the anxiety cursing through me. Whispers of “…it’s going to be OK…,” “…you are caring for your animals just fine…,” “…still your raging heart and mind…”

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and for sharing the tragedy that happened to your friend Donna and the precious beloved souls she tried so hard to care for. Donna's physical loss is truly a very sorrowful one - - because you now are traveling yet another adjustment journey to the physical loss of a good friend, and because the precious souls that were once in her care have endured the physical consequences of neglect through the loss of their lives. I do not put the blame for this on Donna - - I truly believe she wanted better outcomes for the precious souls she tried to take care of. But as her illness progressed and became incapacitated, it sounds to me that her husband "took control" - - and was a major decision maker in the easiest way to "get rid of" the unwanted inhabitants on HIS property. How well I know that attitude from my biological father.

Since my 20's - - many, many years ago - - I have had a Will that includes the care of any surviving companions including setting up a Trust Fund for them with a specified dollar amount that will be financed from my life insurance policy. Of course my greatest concern is that "someone" in my family will resent this and try to break this provision of the Will. I am a senior citizen now and recognize that my ability to care for another companion when Noah is no longer physically with me is truly not an option. But until Noah is no longer physically with me, the provisions for his care remain in effect in my Will. When he precedes me to the angels, I am planning on changing my Will to donating those funds to a local no kill shelter which is a wonderful facility for homeless waifs who are patiently waiting for a new forever home.

I know what it's like to be in an emergency situation which prevented me to take care of precious souls dependent upon me for their care. Your concerns for your precious companions are reasonable, and from what you share with us: "I have provisions in place for care" I have every confidence that you will do everything in your human, and humane, power to not have Donna's tragic story become yours. The truth is NONE of us has "control" over what happens to us, when it happens, and how it happens. The only thing we can do is the best we can under the circumstances of the moment at the time, and put into place a set of instructions for the loving care of those who may need it should the time come when we cannot provide that care ourselves.

I hope the words I share with you will offer you some measure of comfort, support, and encouragement, Monique. As always, I hope today is treating you and all your precious companions kindly, Monique, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and all your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you. Please know you and all your precious companions are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

It sounds like you are well prepared. Kudos to you. It is on my most immediate list to make sure all the "i's" are dotted and "t's" crossed with my provisions should something happen to me. I thought I was prepared. Now I feel doubt. I will get to the bottom of this soon to make the transition as painfree as possible for my beneficiary and executor.

I'm currently dealing with The Aftermath. More pain. More anger!

Digging down to what is really bothering me about Donna’s passing: the mistreatment and loss of animal life, the suffering the animals endured.

My mind has been in complete turmoil. I wish it would just be quiet for a few moments. My mind needs to silence. My soul is torn apart. My body is experiencing heavy fatigue, as if every cell is filled with lead. On the one hand, I want to talk about it constantly to relieve the pain pressure in my heart and soul. On the other, I’m too exhausted to get a word out. I want to run to the highest possible peak and scream.

Picking this whole nightmare apart, my greatest grief and pain is for all the animals who suffered in this rescuer-gone-bad situation. Already for years. No place to go, living in vast numbers, dealing with overcrowding, starved for human attention, dangers from several of her dogs who killed cats who happened to get into the dog pen. Perfectly healthy, beautiful animals who were deemed “too sick” at the end, who were actually nearly starved to death. The poster child for what rescue is NOT! The humans are responsible for the commitments and choices they made. No one made Donna stockpile animals!

The lies and cover-ups. Terrible. The list of excuses: endless. The bottom line still remains the same: the animals suffered and paid with their lives. I didn’t hear about her husband starving as a result of his wife’s illness! The anger flares up again. He was probably overcome with his wife’s illness and potential for hospital bills, etc., was another excuse. So, that justifies not feeding the animals, and, the killing the day before her death and directly after? He didn’t want the animals around as they reminded him of Donna. So, the rescuer dies, the animals starve, and then are killed because they are no longer convenient! What a barbaric, cruel approach. This was not about his love for Donna. This was about him! He wanted them gone because he never wanted to have animals take over his house!

I have to find a way to put all those sweet, unfortunate souls to rest. Perhaps envisioning them with angel wings, alighting in the sky and getting smaller and smaller as they approach heaven...

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I am so very sorry for the deep grief you are enduring for the loss of the many beloved souls who suffered greatly when your friend Donna could no longer properly take care of them. I grew up in a household where animals were thought of as "expendable" and where I was severely criticized for not believing the same thing. Sadly, society still has this same attitude, and like you it breaks my heart when I hear news reports of animals unmercifully treated, abandoned, - - and the only loving human touch they know is when they are rescued and their sweet Living Spirits are set free from their physical pain and suffering. I know I could never work in a shelter facility because my heart would be so filled with anger and deep sorrow for the precious souls who want a loving home so badly and many of whom will never have one.

It is times like these when we truly need to close our eyes and envision an eternal safe haven for these precious souls - - which I call heaven. It is here where every single precious sweet Living Spirit knows eternal joy and all the sorrow and pain of their earthly journey is forgotten.

Monique, it is important that you stay focused on doing the best you can for the precious souls in your care. The tragedy that has happened for the beloved souls in Donna's care will NOT happen with the precious lives in your care. Doing the best YOU can for your precious companions will be a living, loving tribute to the lessons learned from the tragedy revealed from Donna's situation. And when it is your appropriate time to join your beloved companions in eternal joy, you will also be able to share your love with each sweet Living Spirit who never had the privilege of knowing you during their earthly journey. I promise you, Monique, that until your appropriate times comes, each of the beloved sweet souls are in excellent company under the loving care of the angels - - and each of our beloved companions.

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

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I appreciate your love and guidance.

The bad name that Donna and her situation lent to rescue and “mainstream” society is also hurtful to everything I've done and continue to do to help animals in need. These soiled reputations make a bad name for the good ones in recue. Mostly I just live in a simmering fear. I'm so conscientious and have literally dedicated everything to making sure the ones with me are loved, well cared for, safe, clean. I have had to justify ad nauseum to ppl (I don't talk about it anymore), and never convinced anyone I was/am not a hoarder, that my house is clean, that my animals are vetted, etc. Through these justfications, I never won anyone over. Those who came over finally believed. They would tell the nonbelievers, who still didn't believe. The squalor/hoarder situation is what ppl hear about, what they then believe everyone with more than 1.25 animals has. To live under this kind of cloak is exhausting. It’s like living a secret life, yet if a person knows I rescue animals, or know what to do for an animal in need, I’m the first to get a call.

I suffered similarly with family. I have since severed all contact. Growing up was like you. Animals were considered companions until they had issues. Then they became what my parents called "pests" and they had to be "disposed" of. Extremely inhumane and hypocritical. The veneer my family presented (and still does) to everyone is what great humanitarians they are, what devout animal lovers. My father told me that last time he visited that there was no such thing as animal abuse. Years later he recanted after a local news story recounting animal abuse. He has never accepted what I've done for animals, however. My mother advised that I just needed to take my animals somewhere, as surely, there were people out there who could just take them and relieve me of my burdens. When an animal passed, my devastation was met with, "Well, you didn't need that animal anyway..."

And through all this, I'm still dealing with losing MacKenzie. I mostly feel so lost and wish I had never put her through the surgery...

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. There is no doubt in what you share with us that you are doing everything in your human, and humane, power to give the precious souls in your care a happy and healthy earthly journey. There are people who have "animals" as possessions and think of them, and treat them, like inanimate objects. Unless there are obvious signs of physical abuse / neglect the animals are considered to be properly taken care of. Then there are people like you who open their hearts to each and every individual precious soul who comes into your home, and they KNOW they are loved in addition to being well cared for physically, emotionally, and spiritually. There is NO comparison between you and a person who "hoards" animals, Monique. There is no need to "justify" your rescue work here, Monique. I so admire you for your dedication and energy and loving spirit.

Even when we have living precious souls depending on us for their daily care and routines, this doesn't stop the ache in our hearts for the beloved companions who are no longer physically with us. I know so well from first hand experience the ache in your heart for your beloved MacKenzie, and I hope one day you will feel a peace in your heart which will replace the constant throbbing sorrow. This grief journey can feel like an endless journey of darkness - - but I promise you each day now is a victory which will eventually bring you to a place where there is the light of hope, and joy, once again. And each of us are here for you, Monique, to share your journey.

I hope today is treating you, and each of your precious companions, kindly and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and each of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you. Please know you and each of your precious companions are in my thoughts and prayers, Monique, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you, moon_beam. I do feel at home in this forum. The older I get, the more layered life and its lessons become. It's not just a passing, or a loss. It's so much more. It permeates so many things in my life and my mind, life lessons, silver linings,...

There is a dull ache hovering over MacKenzie. 11 August was the one month anniversary of her passing. It seems so much longer than that. It was the day Donna died, and Robin Williams. I adored him. My mind cycles on the following thoughts like a broken record: I wish I had never put her through the surgery. A thought comes back immediately that tells me, And then what. I would have watched her waste away further, worried about her incessantly, tracking/chasing her down to put her in the bathroom with food, hoping she would eat, looking for signs as to what to do, fearing finding her dead or watching her die holding her. There is nothing but trauma in my counterpoint thoughts. I miss her terribly.

I received the local newspaper from where Donna lived in Greensboro, AL. The announcement for her memorial service, with picture and short bio, on the back page. I knew what the envelope held when I opened my mailbox this morning. I waited until a quiet moment to hold this last tangible evidence of Donna's life. It was somehow reassuring to hold a newspaper and leaf through the already yellowing pages, rather than reading it online. All around this memoriam, life was recorded, life went on. Next to her column was a Greensboro Personals section. At the bottom, a sweet picture of a young girl and boy followed by a poem entitled, "10 Years Ago Now..." The poem appears to be written by the little boy's sister, Brooke; I presume he passed 10 years ago... The poem made me think of MacKenzie and Molly, and others I have lost who still tug at my heart:

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and this wonderful poem you found in the newspaper that included the memorial on your friend Donna. The poem is very powerful.

I know how much your heart aches for your beloved MacKenzie, and all of your beloved companions who are no longer physically with you. Even though we "adjust" to their physical absence as we continue our earthly journey, the love bond never diminishes - - for they are always and forever an integral part of us.

I hope today is treating you, and each of your precious companions, kindly and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and each of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you. Please know you and each of your precious companions are in my thoughts and prayers, Monique, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I received MacKenzie's ashes Saturday. The crematorium, Paws Memorial, works with me. They wait for me to call them for the remains. I wish I could have delayed it forever. It's getting harder and harder. I even considered not getting her remains back. It's so final. It was so difficult to see that all that is left of my beautiful, sweet, loyal friend is a little pile of ashes. I just don't know what to do with the body of a beloved peep. I used to bury them, and now I fear I cannot move to another house and leave them behind. To cremate and receive their remains is ... I'm struggling with the words here. It's so painful. I have so many. The ones who I've had cremated so far are all resting near their favorite spots. If I just turn in their bodies, I cannot reconcile the bodies being disposed of like trash, or that is how I see it. Paws Memorial does do mass cremations, and they profess to handle each and every body with love and care. This all tormented me this weekend. I don't want to receive a little bag of ashes, yet I don't know what else to do.

And life just goes on, totally oblivious and uncaring...

I had to mow my grass this afternoon. It has been raining this weekend and the rest of the week promises to be more of the same. One day, today, was the only available window. Hot and humid. My mower would not start. I tried everything, cursed, prayed. I was completely drenched when I rolled my mower to my neighbors who have helped me before. The son lives with his parents. Never an issue before until today. The son answered the door and downright lied about his availability and returned from asking his father, whose answer was the same. The son was downright unkind as I stood there drenched in sweat, my lip quivering. But, I need help, I said. Well, we can't help you now. I need to help with dinner and I'm working on resume's and stuff, the son said. I was devastated. He turned on his heels and headed back into the house.

Life goes on... It doesn't matter that I've told this son previously I'm dealing with lots of loss. People are so busy with themselves. It's sickening. It doesn't matter to these people how difficult my life is and all I deal with. It doesn't matter that this son knows I'm dealing with heavy losses. Just like all the newspaper pages surrounding Donna's memorial announcement. I remarked on this then and I thought about it again today. My sweet MacKenzie came home as a bag of ashes and this guy could care less. Today his true colors came out. Another human contact that I will now never rely on again. God help him if he ever needs help and has no one.

I did manage to get my mower started thanks to the help of a friend who has recently come back into my life. He doesn't exactly live next door, but he dropped everything and helped me with my mower.

And so there is grace to temper the anger...

And my MacKenzie is still traveling with angels and I cannot hold her.

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Indeed, getting our beloved companion's ashes is a two sided coin: one side can be a relief to have our companion home again yet the other side of the coin is yet another painful reality they are no longer with us in their precious physical form that our hearts and arms long for so much. It is another piece to this very painful physical and emotional grief adjustment journey.

As a single woman homeowner I can certainly understand your feelings about the lack of support from others when help is needed. And equally frustrating is having to deal with contractors who take unfair financial advantage charging excessively for services provided. I'm very glad you were able to find a friend who was willing to take time out of his life priorities to help you with the mower.

I understand how you feel about the prospects of moving and leaving your beloved companions behind. When my companion of several years joined the angels (now many decades ago) she was buried in a pet cemetery several miles from where I was living at the time. The last time I visited her resting place was before I moved out of State for my job which was relocating. I have come to realize through the years that the love bond I share with each of my beloved companions is not dependent on where I live and how geographically close I am to their final resting places. Since this experience, I have had each of my companions cremated and have their ashes with me - - primarily because I am not able to dig a grave for them and do not have anyone I can depend on to do it for me, nor am I financially able to afford a commercial resting place. I hope in time you will be able to find peace in your heart that what you decide regarding the disposition of your beloved companions' ashes is the RIGHT decision for you, Monique. And also, - - I hope you will know that wherever YOU are your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits are ALWAYS with you.

I hope today is treating you and each of your precious companions kindly, Monique, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and all of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Monique, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you for continuing to visit and offer your wonderful support.

I have been writing to support others quite a bit and I now feel drained, most recently AugustusS to try and help him through the worst of his grief from losing his beloved Mira. I wish I could take all the pain away on this site. I now feel my own grief tugging heavily and need to draw inward. My grief is still very fresh, despite the progress I have made, and I struggle daily with anticipatory grief for others under my care.

Then I see in the news that Joan Rivers has passed. I feel relief to know I would never have to hear her base, crude and crass humor again- is that horrible to say? Her humor was hurtful, not funny. It cut deeply. I saw pictures of her opulent penthouse with 23 feet high ceilings, every room dripping in gold and excess. Her view was, Why not spend it? I think of all the animals who will never even have a soft, warm bed, and I feel shame for such a wanton lifestyle. In the grand scheme of things, how could a person like that, who was so busy making fun of everyone and the world, possible know anything about the animals living right under her nose who could have benefited from her millions.

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Your support to the people on this wonderful forum is sincerely, genuinely, and deeply appreciated. Each of us are blessed to have the privilege of your comfort and encouragement. Still, it is important that you give yourself the time and opportunity to grieve for your beloved MacKenzie and other companions.

I know how you feel about "if I were a rich man" (borrowed from "Fiddler On The Roof") all the good that could be done for the precious souls who need a loving Forever Home. I know what it's like to grow up with bare necessities because a parent thought spending money on his wife and children was "squandering" (his exact word) his hard earned money. It is written "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." There are people who treasure "things" that only money can buy and people who treasure the valuable gifts that only our hearts can measure. I am not financially wealthy, but I have always considered myself blessed with the precious gift of each of my companions, and have always tried to do my best for each of them with the resources available to me. This is all any of us can do whose treasure are the gifts of our companions. And we must celebrate the many people in our world who do try to ensure the well being of neglected, abused, and endangered creatures during their lifetime through their generous endowments of financial support and who leave a Living Legacy to continue their care.

I hope today is treating you and each of your precious companions kindly, Monique, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and all of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Monique, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

It's very true that everyone defines wealth differently. I do wonder about those who attach such meaning to material things, what is really missing...

I woke up completely exhausted and out of breath. I dreamed of MacKenzie. She was at the vet on an IV and was going to stay the night. The clinic was a total chaos, scenes of animals, supplies, stuff piled everywhere. The refrigerator door, I remember, had gallon Ziplock bags hanging somehow with fish swimming in it. Very odd. Somewhere in there was the staff and a smiling vet, completely unaffected by all the chaos and assured that MacKenzie would be fine. I was on my way home or driving, and desperate to find the vet's phone number to tell her I needed to pick MacKenzie up and care for her at home during the night, not leave her at the clinic. I couldn't find the number. Everything was warbled and confusing. I was breathless and extremely anxious. The more I struggled to find the phone number, the more panic stricken I became. I had to hurry. I was running out of time. And then I woke up...

Now if that dream doesn't explode the many desparations I feel about losing MacKenzie... And to remember a dream, for me, is very rare.

:'(

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I'm so sorry you had a very bad dream about your beloved MacKenzie. Dreams can be a way for our minds to try to reconcile events that have happened in our lives which can also reflect the sorrow - - or joy - - we are experiencing. When we are grieving we are particularly vulnerable emotionally which can intensify the sorrow we experience in our dreams. Please know that your beloved MacKenzie does not want your heart burdened with sorrow and guilt but rather focused on the many treasured memories you share together. Hopefully in time you will find a peace in your heart about the final days, hours of your beloved MacKenzie's earthly journey. Your beloved MacKenzie knows that you did everything in your human, and humane, power to try to restore her to a good quality of life.

I hope today is treating you and each of your precious companions kindly, Monique, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and all of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Monique, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I completely agree with the vulnerabilities associated with loss. My Reiki friend, Kristine, also told me that MacKenzie does not want me to feel badly and knows I did everything possible to help her. I need to forgive myself for my humanness, if there is such a word.

With due respect to the fact that this is a pet loss support forum, I need to leave a heart print here for 5 little children who were murdered by their father, aged 1 - 8 years old. Innocent children, who had no way to defend themselves against this deranged brute. The pictures of the little ones via this link brings it home just how young they were, how beautiful and full of laughter and life. They never had a chance: http://www.aol.com/article/2014/09/10/dad-...26pLid%3D527455. A poignant and painful reminder that man mistreats and mangles all life forms, including his own. That knowledge is what kept me halfway sane during my years of active animal rescue. And that knowledge only really pacified in a kind of "bandaid over a gushing chest wound" kind of way. There is no excuse or justfication, ever, for what man has done to violate life and the planet that provides for him so beautifully.

May these sweet little ones rest in peace and have choirs of angels surrounding them, as well as the comfort of each other.

I'm so sad. I know this is not my burden. However, most of my life I have fought so hard to save and protect life. For all of us humanitarians who try to do to respect, protect life, rehabilitate broken bodies and spirits... it just appears to be a losing battle. It just plainly hurts and deeply. I'm repeating to myself that we cannot save them all, but for that one, we have made all the difference... For these five little children, help never came.

And I realize I have been offering support to many and you are the only one who is supporting me for MacKenzie and others...

That sits rather ... odd, for lack of a better word.

hi monique,

I saw you posting on your thread and wanted to drop a line. I see that you received MacKenzie's ashes. I know this must have been excruciating, I know it was for me. I think moon beam said this once, but it was a double edged sword. Feeling like she was back with me, but still so far away. Have you found a place for her ashes yet? I keep Winnie's on my dresser for now. The funny thing is I had convinced myself before getting them back that I didn't need them, that I would take them to her favorite beach and scatter them, but now that I have them I can't imagine not having this tactile reminder. How did you receive them? mine came in a cedar box with her name on them and a place for a photo. Did they make you a paw print?

I'm so sorry to hear about the mower catastrophe! I know all too well those moments that feel overwhelming that should feel ordinary - and to not feel supported or like you had someone you can lean on for support must have felt terrible. I don't know if this relates, but I heard once that if we were all to collectively stand in a circle and throw our worst troubles and worries into the middle of it and we were told to pick back up whatever ones we wanted - we would all pick up our own once more. No doubt your neighbors would have picked up their own problems quickly after seeing what you were struggling with.

It's funny how the grief plays out. Days when we feel able to support, listen and process pain with others, and days where we fall apart and so desperately need to have others to lean on. I know I have been so grateful for your comments on my thread and your pieces of support you've lent me. I don't know if you showed this article to me (likely!) or if I found it in once of my desperate 'so sad that my dog is gone' google searches but nonetheless I thought I would pass along in case you had not. I felt so connected to what the author was writing in relation to feelings of loneliness:
http://www.today.com/pets/when-my-dog-luck...ared-too-994165

Now, I know this refers to a dog and not a cat, but the sentiment is the same

Hope you are taking good care of yourself! Much love.

Hi, Monique, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Indeed, this world is filled with many gruesome acts of cruelty against all living beings that it can make some of us deeply wonder about humanity's purpose for existence. The sad reality is we live in an imperfect world which includes both the bad and good that humanity has to offer. In this age of technology when events are instantaneously publicized it is easy to become overwhelmed by the constant bombardment of things that happen in our world - - particularly the bad things. And when we are grieving our own losses we are more vulnerable to the sorrow, sadness, and cruelty happening in the world. Both the TV and internet continuously replay horrifying events that deeply affects us emotionally, and this can lead to - - and contribute to - - feelings of depression and despair to the point where we can feel as you so poignantly share with us "For all of us humanitarians who try to do to respect, protect life, rehabilitate broken bodies and spirits... it just appears to be a losing battle."

Please let me try to reassure you, Monique, that what you, and each of us does, is truly not a losing battle. I remember in my younger years how I wanted so badly to make a positive "difference" in the world, and now that I am in my senior years I realize I have done nothing with my life to make the global world a "better place." I haven't invented anything, I haven't cured any diseases, I haven't improved the life of third world countries, I haven't prevented any wars, I haven't discovered any means for preventing disasters, etc.. But I have loved and cared for and provided for those who have been directly entrusted to my care to the best of my ability, and I add my voice with others who seek support in changing and improving the lives of our fellow inhabitants of every life form. We can only do the best we can to try to make a difference in the "world" in which we individually live. We may not receive recognition or acknowledgement for our efforts during our earthly journey, - - but I assure you, Monique, that your beloved MacKenzie - - and all of your beloved and precious companions - - are eternally grateful for everything you do for them, and they will be greeting you with your crown of glory when it is your appropriate time to join them in eternal joy.

I hope today is treating you and each of your precious companions kindly, Monique, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved MacKenzie's and all of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Monique, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam