I’ve just read your request for comments from owners who have lost their dogs. My husband and I know what it is like.
We both worked full time so it was impractical to have a dog, particularly as we loved Labradors and they can be prone to chewing if left on their own for too long – bit of an understatement really! Then my husband started working from home which meant that finally we could get a dog. We decided to go through Labrador Rescue Kent and after the checks were completed, on Sunday 4th May 2009 a five month old black bundle of fur literally came bounding into our lives. He was adored by us and also my Mum, Dad and sister and we had a great time taking him to training classes - after about a year or so we had such a well behaved dog. We had a glorious three and a half years with him, but sadly on 17th October 2011 he died suddenly due to a heart issue which neither we or our vets realised was as bad as it obviously was. We were heartbroken and felt so lost those first couple of days. We had a big picture on our landing wall of him staring into the camera and I remember just sitting on the stairs crying because I wanted him back so badly. People who haven’t had a pet sometimes don’t understand how much love they bring into your lives; they can make you laugh doing the silliest things and brighten up even the dullest of days.
One thing which helped was that we had him cremated by a local company called Treasured Friends. They came and collected him and I can still remember to this day how kind and sensitive they were. They have separate cremations for each pet and our dog was returned to us in a casket the next day. It may sound silly, but for him to be back with us so quickly was a comfort, rather than being picked up by a central company via a vets and then returned weeks later and us not knowing if we really had our dog’s ashes back. We still have his ashes and one day we may decide to scatter them, if the time is right, but for now he is at home with us.
As he was a rescue dog, we had to let Lab Rescue know; we already helped out at their reunion days so the team knew us very well. Whilst talking to them, we were told about a poor little dog who had been kept in awful conditions for about a year and some kind person had found out and let LRK know and they managed to get him out. Because of the way he was mistreated we can’t go into where he was found and the situation. At first we were unsure because it was so soon after losing our previous dog, but we decided to go and meet him as he was staying at one of the helper’s houses. To see this little dog running around chasing a ball and coming up to us and licking our faces, even after the terrible things that had happened to him, melted our hearts and he came home with us that day! He was only 19 kilo’s so he was all skin and bones, riddled with fleas and managed to disgrace himself by grabbing a jacket potato off of my dinner plate on the second night!
I won’t lie to your readers, those first couple of days with him were challenging as we were still grieving. We kept comparing him to our first dog, which looking back was wrong. All he wanted was to be loved and we were wrapped up in our own grief. However, a few days later, he suddenly had a fit and my husband rushed him to the vets. I left work in a massive panic and rushed to see him and even though he was still having slight convulsions, he was laying on the table looking at me. It turned out eventually that he was epileptic which LRK weren’t aware of and we think that was why he was abandoned. After much soul-searching we decided we couldn’t give him back and that we would care for him regardless of what might happen. That was four and half years ago and whilst he still has fits which can be quite traumatic at times, he recovers quickly after them and the first thing he wants is a treat! He has survived twisted stomach (chicken bone picked up on a walk!) and various other ailments. He is now a healthy 28 kilo’s and although he is getting older, he is still as mischievous as the first day we got him. As I type, he is laying on his back in his bed with his legs in the air, gently snoring.
I would like to say to all readers who have lost a beloved pet that yes, it is hard to take on another dog…… but think about the lovely times that you have with them and the unconditional love that they give you. Also, most importantly, there could be some poor dog out that there has just been rescued from a cruel owner or sad situation and you may just be their saviour. Of course we still miss our first dog, it’s only natural because he was a big part of our lives and I still cry sometimes when I think of him, but there are far more times when I look back and think of the great times we had. As for now, as Lab Rescue say, our dog has ended up in his “forever” home and he has literally has landed on his paws. Who knows how much longer we will have him for, but for the remaining time he is with us, he will be loved and well cared for.
My last thought is that we take comfort (although it makes me cry every time I read it!!) from the poem “Rainbow Bridge”. It’s too long to include in this e-mail, but you may like to consider using it.
Hope this helps.
Best wishes,
Debbie B
We both worked full time so it was impractical to have a dog, particularly as we loved Labradors and they can be prone to chewing if left on their own for too long – bit of an understatement really! Then my husband started working from home which meant that finally we could get a dog. We decided to go through Labrador Rescue Kent and after the checks were completed, on Sunday 4th May 2009 a five month old black bundle of fur literally came bounding into our lives. He was adored by us and also my Mum, Dad and sister and we had a great time taking him to training classes - after about a year or so we had such a well behaved dog. We had a glorious three and a half years with him, but sadly on 17th October 2011 he died suddenly due to a heart issue which neither we or our vets realised was as bad as it obviously was. We were heartbroken and felt so lost those first couple of days. We had a big picture on our landing wall of him staring into the camera and I remember just sitting on the stairs crying because I wanted him back so badly. People who haven’t had a pet sometimes don’t understand how much love they bring into your lives; they can make you laugh doing the silliest things and brighten up even the dullest of days.
One thing which helped was that we had him cremated by a local company called Treasured Friends. They came and collected him and I can still remember to this day how kind and sensitive they were. They have separate cremations for each pet and our dog was returned to us in a casket the next day. It may sound silly, but for him to be back with us so quickly was a comfort, rather than being picked up by a central company via a vets and then returned weeks later and us not knowing if we really had our dog’s ashes back. We still have his ashes and one day we may decide to scatter them, if the time is right, but for now he is at home with us.
As he was a rescue dog, we had to let Lab Rescue know; we already helped out at their reunion days so the team knew us very well. Whilst talking to them, we were told about a poor little dog who had been kept in awful conditions for about a year and some kind person had found out and let LRK know and they managed to get him out. Because of the way he was mistreated we can’t go into where he was found and the situation. At first we were unsure because it was so soon after losing our previous dog, but we decided to go and meet him as he was staying at one of the helper’s houses. To see this little dog running around chasing a ball and coming up to us and licking our faces, even after the terrible things that had happened to him, melted our hearts and he came home with us that day! He was only 19 kilo’s so he was all skin and bones, riddled with fleas and managed to disgrace himself by grabbing a jacket potato off of my dinner plate on the second night!
I won’t lie to your readers, those first couple of days with him were challenging as we were still grieving. We kept comparing him to our first dog, which looking back was wrong. All he wanted was to be loved and we were wrapped up in our own grief. However, a few days later, he suddenly had a fit and my husband rushed him to the vets. I left work in a massive panic and rushed to see him and even though he was still having slight convulsions, he was laying on the table looking at me. It turned out eventually that he was epileptic which LRK weren’t aware of and we think that was why he was abandoned. After much soul-searching we decided we couldn’t give him back and that we would care for him regardless of what might happen. That was four and half years ago and whilst he still has fits which can be quite traumatic at times, he recovers quickly after them and the first thing he wants is a treat! He has survived twisted stomach (chicken bone picked up on a walk!) and various other ailments. He is now a healthy 28 kilo’s and although he is getting older, he is still as mischievous as the first day we got him. As I type, he is laying on his back in his bed with his legs in the air, gently snoring.
I would like to say to all readers who have lost a beloved pet that yes, it is hard to take on another dog…… but think about the lovely times that you have with them and the unconditional love that they give you. Also, most importantly, there could be some poor dog out that there has just been rescued from a cruel owner or sad situation and you may just be their saviour. Of course we still miss our first dog, it’s only natural because he was a big part of our lives and I still cry sometimes when I think of him, but there are far more times when I look back and think of the great times we had. As for now, as Lab Rescue say, our dog has ended up in his “forever” home and he has literally has landed on his paws. Who knows how much longer we will have him for, but for the remaining time he is with us, he will be loved and well cared for.
My last thought is that we take comfort (although it makes me cry every time I read it!!) from the poem “Rainbow Bridge”. It’s too long to include in this e-mail, but you may like to consider using it.
Hope this helps.
Best wishes,
Debbie B
We lost our beautiful Scottie William a year ago. He was 9 years old. I had been getting worried because he had been slowing down and having trouble swallowing. Visits to our vet revealed nothing wrong. Half way through January I noticed his eye was strange and sunken and he seemed to have problems with balance. We took him to the vet who confirmed my fears that he might have a brain tumour. We took William to a specialist and an MRI scan confirmed the tumour which was untreatable. In a way it was a help seeing the scan for myself. It was the rapid progression of the visible results of the tumour which was growing into the root of the main nerves after slowly growing over a longish period of time that was so shocking. We brought William home and the family came to say goodbye. We took him to his friend, our vet, and he summoned enough energy to happily greet him. He just went to sleep so peacefully and we cried.
How to cope...I still miss him. He was our gentleman dog. It was a shock because he was so young and our previous Scottie Emily had died at 8. Our other scotties had lived to 12. I blamed myself but we were assured we could not have done anything.
We have Scottie Henry who is 3 and he has helped. I found talking about William helps but I miss him.
My husband and I shed many tears and that helped but I think remembering William as he was is the best way to get over him. I remember Kirsty, Miranda, Emily and now William by considering the privilege of having them to live with us and to share their lives and to have their love and trust.
Ann W
How to cope...I still miss him. He was our gentleman dog. It was a shock because he was so young and our previous Scottie Emily had died at 8. Our other scotties had lived to 12. I blamed myself but we were assured we could not have done anything.
We have Scottie Henry who is 3 and he has helped. I found talking about William helps but I miss him.
My husband and I shed many tears and that helped but I think remembering William as he was is the best way to get over him. I remember Kirsty, Miranda, Emily and now William by considering the privilege of having them to live with us and to share their lives and to have their love and trust.
Ann W
The Dog of a Lifetime
Charlotte K
Just as many people hope to find the perfect human partner in life, some are lucky enough to find the dog of a lifetime. I didn't even realise that I had found mine until he was nearly half way through his life. Maly was a collie/shepherd, the offspring of a friend's dog. His father and my friend's second dog were elderly and my friend only took the puppy in reluctantly following pressure from her partner.
Unfortunately for all concerned, the human relationship was abusive. Much of this spilled over to affect Maly, indirectly and directly. Maly gradually began to look to me for comfort and assurance and frequently, regular exercise. As I became more aware of the domestic circumstances, I suggested that perhaps I take Maly on. At the time, I was freelancing as a professional performer and this was used as a, not unreasonable, excuse for refusal, although of course I would have adapted. Maly ended up becoming a piece of property which neither side would relinquish but which neither really wanted. Eventually my friend moved out of London, exacerbating her isolation and her domestic problems. Sadly, just three and a half years later, she died. Knowing that she was terminally ill, she had asked me to take Maly but I had nothing in writing and, in spite of looking after her in her final months, her family shut me out at the last. Her partner and most of her family were drunk before they got to her funeral. I made the decision to simply walk off with Maly and take him back to London. I got him microchipped the next day and began the long, slow road to rehabilitating what was by then, a very stressed, unhappy dog, in the process, taking a full time 'day job' for his sake.
Maly died on his 16th birthday, just five years later. They were undoubtedly the best five years that I will ever have with any dog and all too short. In that brief time, he discovered a love of competing in shows, usually walking away with the trick class, being the brightest dog and fastest learner that I am likely to encounter. He was Your Dog Golden Oldie of 2009 and I still get a thrill when his images are used in the magazine.
I was working in a vet at the time Maly became very ill. I nursed him at home on a drip for five days and, on a gloriously sunny spring day, exactly 16 years after he was born, knew that I could do no more. My colleagues, a vet and the senior nurse, came to my house and together we did the deed and took his still beautiful but lifeless body into the practice for storage.
The following days were ones of raw, agonising grief. I felt as if I were a fish that was being gutted alive. I woke myself up calling for him. I spent a long weekend in the cuntry with friends staring at the sea for hours, numb with misery. If they hadn't fed me, I doubt that I would have bothered to eat. I had dealt with many bereaved clients at the vet and discussed final arrangements with them. I knew that I could not bare for Maly to be reduced to ashes. I began to search for someone to set his skeleton.
It took weeks. I called museums and veterinary schools but it seemed that the few people who possessed the necessary skills had either retired or given up the work.
Then I found Luke Williams at Skeletons UK (http://www.skeletonsuk.com/). Not only is Luke an extraordinarily talented young man whose work is in demand all over the world, he is one of the most sensitive people I have ever come across. He kindly picked me up from the station after an horrendous journey (apart from the emotional impact, taking a frozen dog on crowded trains without help is not to be recommended). We ended up in the pub sharing gallows humour as a release from all the tension, although I still shudder when I go through Birmingham station remembering how hard it was to transfer to the local train. He explained every step of the process and afterwards even sent me images in a book, keeping me updated throughout the months that the work takes. I was just about to ask Luke to preserve Maly's heart, but he anticipated my wishes, enabling me to bury it in the garden of the house where he was born along with a 'time capsule' telling his story.
Finally the time came when my beautiful skeleton was ready. This time, I managed to get a lift there and back. Maly- bones now looks over my bedroom. I confess, I converse with him all the time and always rush in to see him when I have been away.
A year after he died, I took on a rescue Siberian Husky. I felt disloyal, guilty and sometimes even resentful of him for some time after. I deliberately took on a dog that I knew was in a bad way and was a huge handful as it left me less time to fret over my lost love.
It's now nearly six years since Maly died. I have been longer without him than with him. I enjoy my 'new' dog who has progressed beyond all expectations but not a day goes by that I don't wish for some way to bring Maly back or think that I could have done more for him sooner.
I realise that my option would not be for everyone, but I am profoundly glad that I have so much more than a box of ashes to keep Maly's physical presence close to me.
I have a section on my DogsNet website which you are welcome to link to that lists several options bereaved owners, including links to lots of different methods of disposal and canine-specific counselling. http://www.dogsnet.org/welfare/the-last-goodbye-how-to-deal-with-the-death-of-your-dog/
Charlotte K
Just as many people hope to find the perfect human partner in life, some are lucky enough to find the dog of a lifetime. I didn't even realise that I had found mine until he was nearly half way through his life. Maly was a collie/shepherd, the offspring of a friend's dog. His father and my friend's second dog were elderly and my friend only took the puppy in reluctantly following pressure from her partner.
Unfortunately for all concerned, the human relationship was abusive. Much of this spilled over to affect Maly, indirectly and directly. Maly gradually began to look to me for comfort and assurance and frequently, regular exercise. As I became more aware of the domestic circumstances, I suggested that perhaps I take Maly on. At the time, I was freelancing as a professional performer and this was used as a, not unreasonable, excuse for refusal, although of course I would have adapted. Maly ended up becoming a piece of property which neither side would relinquish but which neither really wanted. Eventually my friend moved out of London, exacerbating her isolation and her domestic problems. Sadly, just three and a half years later, she died. Knowing that she was terminally ill, she had asked me to take Maly but I had nothing in writing and, in spite of looking after her in her final months, her family shut me out at the last. Her partner and most of her family were drunk before they got to her funeral. I made the decision to simply walk off with Maly and take him back to London. I got him microchipped the next day and began the long, slow road to rehabilitating what was by then, a very stressed, unhappy dog, in the process, taking a full time 'day job' for his sake.
Maly died on his 16th birthday, just five years later. They were undoubtedly the best five years that I will ever have with any dog and all too short. In that brief time, he discovered a love of competing in shows, usually walking away with the trick class, being the brightest dog and fastest learner that I am likely to encounter. He was Your Dog Golden Oldie of 2009 and I still get a thrill when his images are used in the magazine.
I was working in a vet at the time Maly became very ill. I nursed him at home on a drip for five days and, on a gloriously sunny spring day, exactly 16 years after he was born, knew that I could do no more. My colleagues, a vet and the senior nurse, came to my house and together we did the deed and took his still beautiful but lifeless body into the practice for storage.
The following days were ones of raw, agonising grief. I felt as if I were a fish that was being gutted alive. I woke myself up calling for him. I spent a long weekend in the cuntry with friends staring at the sea for hours, numb with misery. If they hadn't fed me, I doubt that I would have bothered to eat. I had dealt with many bereaved clients at the vet and discussed final arrangements with them. I knew that I could not bare for Maly to be reduced to ashes. I began to search for someone to set his skeleton.
It took weeks. I called museums and veterinary schools but it seemed that the few people who possessed the necessary skills had either retired or given up the work.
Then I found Luke Williams at Skeletons UK (http://www.skeletonsuk.com/). Not only is Luke an extraordinarily talented young man whose work is in demand all over the world, he is one of the most sensitive people I have ever come across. He kindly picked me up from the station after an horrendous journey (apart from the emotional impact, taking a frozen dog on crowded trains without help is not to be recommended). We ended up in the pub sharing gallows humour as a release from all the tension, although I still shudder when I go through Birmingham station remembering how hard it was to transfer to the local train. He explained every step of the process and afterwards even sent me images in a book, keeping me updated throughout the months that the work takes. I was just about to ask Luke to preserve Maly's heart, but he anticipated my wishes, enabling me to bury it in the garden of the house where he was born along with a 'time capsule' telling his story.
Finally the time came when my beautiful skeleton was ready. This time, I managed to get a lift there and back. Maly- bones now looks over my bedroom. I confess, I converse with him all the time and always rush in to see him when I have been away.
A year after he died, I took on a rescue Siberian Husky. I felt disloyal, guilty and sometimes even resentful of him for some time after. I deliberately took on a dog that I knew was in a bad way and was a huge handful as it left me less time to fret over my lost love.
It's now nearly six years since Maly died. I have been longer without him than with him. I enjoy my 'new' dog who has progressed beyond all expectations but not a day goes by that I don't wish for some way to bring Maly back or think that I could have done more for him sooner.
I realise that my option would not be for everyone, but I am profoundly glad that I have so much more than a box of ashes to keep Maly's physical presence close to me.
I have a section on my DogsNet website which you are welcome to link to that lists several options bereaved owners, including links to lots of different methods of disposal and canine-specific counselling. http://www.dogsnet.org/welfare/the-last-goodbye-how-to-deal-with-the-death-of-your-dog/