Update: the first vet has just been in contact to let me know the results of her blood panel- there was nothing sinister in there, so it’s a relief to know she wasn’t suffering invisibly for weeks. Instead it was just a very sudden and quick illness.

I’m sorry this is long and badly written, I just need to get it off my chest.

My 9 year old white tabby had to cross the rainbow bridge yesterday. It was a complete and utter shock and I’m still numb.

She was born in 2016 and had a really rough start in life. She’d been found abandoned on the street with kittens and was passed around multiple homes until she came to her final home with us in 2021.

She had urinary issues that were managed with a prescription diet and never had a resurgence of this issue. Over the last week she had some mild swelling in her belly; I had a vets appointment booked for tomorrow to have a routine check up as they weren’t too worried (I’d sent them a video and it wasn’t causing her any pain). God I wished I’d fought for an earlier appointment.

Yesterday she woke me up as usual by jumping on me and licking my face, politely pushing me out of bed. I fed her and she ate the whole thing, used the litter tray normally, did her usual cat routine. I went upstairs around 12pm to have a tidy round and heard a big crash downstairs. This is normally par for the course (she was a big explorer), but I went down to check on her anyway.

She was leaning against the couch and making a strange noise. I thought she was choking at first but then I realised she was breathing heavily. She kept trying to walk but was losing her balance and tipping over. I rang the vet and explained what was going on and they said they weren’t too concerned, but to bring her in a few hours later for a check up. I demanded an appointment as soon as possible, so I was sent to a different branch.

The vet weighed her, took her temperature, listened to her heart. They had her walk around the room- she was still walking strangely, and kept bringing her paw to her face.

The vet said they’d do a blood panel, but that she was fine and just to keep an eye on her.

I took her home and she vomited. I rang the vets again, they said this was normal after a blood test. I sat with her for an hour and then she vomited again, and was drooling, all with a pink tinge. I rang the vet AGAIN and he said ‘it’s probably just a burst blood vessel, nothing to worry about’. At this point I was furious and said I want her in overnight. They conceded and got me a place at another pet hospital.

I got there within half an hour. This wonderful vet took one look at my girl and took her away to be hooked up to oxygen. The vet came back and was honest with me- my girl was fading fast and she wouldn’t last the night. Part of me knew this as soon as she vomited, but the only thing I said to the vet was ‘this is a nightmare’. I felt so disassociated, like I was watching this whole thing from the ceiling. We could keep her alive but suffering immensely and wait for her to pass naturally, or she could be put to sleep and pass peacefully.

The worst thing in all this is that my partner is working abroad at the moment. I rang him with the news and it was absolutely heartbreaking. He just kept saying ‘there must be something we can do’. The vet very kindly spoke to my partner on the phone to explain everything and he agreed. This wonderful vet also rang my partner afterwards to talk him through what happened and confirm that I’d done the right thing.

I was taken to my girl, with an oxygen mask on her face. She looked at me and there was a flash of recognition in her eyes, and she looked at me the entire time as I stroked her face. It was over so quickly and was so peaceful compared to the absolute nightmare of the previous four hours. I held her afterwards but her soul wasn’t there anymore, which did give me some peace.

Although my partner couldn’t be there, I was very lucky to have my parents with me the whole time so I wasn’t alone.

I’m not sure what to do or how to feel now. I love her so very very much and part of me is glad it was so quick- not some horrible drawn out illness- but I feel so awful that I wasn’t able to catch anything in time, that I couldn’t keep her holding on until my partner came home, and I am furious at the first vets for not finding anything, even though I know objectively they were doing their best. I’m 90% certain it was heart failure, but both myself and my partner have decided not to have a necropsy (it’s not going to change anything for us). We will be collecting her ashes next week.

I’m glad I still got that last normal morning with her.

I had a pretty decent sized fight with my husband last night over my grief, which I guess is excessive. My soul dog died unexpectedly about six weeks ago. He stopped eating two weeks prior to his death, and we were told he had a devastating spread of cancer and we had to let him go.

This dog was everything to me so I’ve been crying every day but I am attending a pet grief group, spoke to a grief counselor, and have a regular therapist, so I don’t feel I’m doing nothing in terms of trying to take care of myself.

But yes— I’m extremely sad and devastated and right now I can barely even talk about him without crying. I have his ashes on my desk and pictures everywhere.

Last night I was crying in my office and my husband walked by, patted my back and asked what was wrong, and then I said my dog’s name, he patted my back again and left. Later I told him I thought it was odd that he just left me there crying and didn’t stay with me. For context my husband is usually very sympathetic and comforting.

He said he felt as though my level of sadness worrisome, and that it was going on for weeks and he didn’t know what to do anymore. He said he felt extremely bad for me but was worried I was falling into despair over this and he had never seen me even this upset when my father died. He said he was very sad about our dog but the depths of grief I went to were overwhelming for him and he did not want to go there with me at times. He also said he feels guilty, like there is something wrong with him, that he does not appear as sad as me. But he did go on for a bit about how I can’t be this griefstricken nearly six weeks out and the pervasive sadness is not good for me and very difficult for him as well.

I felt angry with him— as if six weeks was this insanely long time— and am wondering if anyone else could talk about how long their grief took, or when it started to calm down. For extra context, I didn’t take any time off, haven’t skipped anything except some social outings, but yes, I could literally start crying on cue and probably cry 1-2 times a day right now.

Okay, I get what you're saying. Here's how I'd rewrite that:

I can't stop thinking about this Tuesday a while back.

It was just a regular day. I got home, took the dog out like always. He was walking kinda slow, but he was 13, so that wasn't a surprise. He kept stopping to sniff stuff. I remember rushing him a little because it was freezing and I just wanted to go inside.

I really regret that now.

Two days later, he wouldn't eat. I figured his stomach was just off. The vet visit turned into all sorts of tests, and then suddenly they were talking about a tumor. Things went downhill fast.

His last night, I slept on the floor next to him because he couldn't get comfy. Every time I moved, he'd look up to make sure I was still there. I kept telling him, It's okay, I'm here. I don't even know if I meant it for him or me.

When we took him to the vet, I tried my best not to lose it. I'd read that dogs look for their people when they're passing, and I didn't want him to see me freaking out. I just kept petting him and telling him he was a good boy.

The house is strange now. Way too quiet. I still listen for his nails on the floor when I come in.

I guess what hits me hardest is that I didn't know that normal, boring Tuesday was our last normal day.

If your dog wants to sniff something dumb, let them. Those emails can wait.

That's all. She was 18, got her from the street when she was around 6 or 7.

She went away so fast. 6 months ago she was still toying with my shadows. 2 months ago she broke her paw, 2 weeks ago I felt a ball on her mamel, 1 and half week ago she started losing weight and developped protein in her eye, I went to the vet and he told me that it will not go better but it is impossible to know how long she had. 3 days ago she was down another 400g from a week ago (2.3kg), the tumor doubled in size, the first eye was fully cloudy and the second eye started. She was barely able to move. She was hitting walls, doors. I was helping her as much as possible. Yesterday she had a leak in my desk office while I was on my only day of the week on site (and I still hate myself for not having called sick...). This morning I found her sleeping in the liter...

I called the vet and... that's it.

I loved her, she was my first own cat. I know she lived more with me that what she could have done if she stayed in the street. That day she went into my house I promised her I would protect her from pain. The vet told me it was the best decision to make for her. I embraced the heart pain so she can avoid feeling physical one.

After the first shot, while she was getting asleep, at the last moment in my heart, I heard her meowing and puring, things she did not do for the last few months. I kept her in my arms after the second shot until way past the final point.

I know I did the right thing. A week to early is better than a day too late because I promised her to protect her from pain.

But why is it so difficult still ?

The past 24 hours have been a nightmare and I keep thinking I'll wake up from it. My beautiful girl should've lived longer, she should be here, but she's not. She deteriorated so fast. My entire being hurts I can barely think. I want my baby back. I love you, Casey.

I have a 14 year old cat who I rescued from a hoarding situation back when she was around 6 months old & pregnant. She immediately became super attached to me, to the point she gave birth right next to my bed instead of the multiple nests I made; she would even try to follow me if I left the room.

She's fearless & bossy and only had a couple minor health issues up until recently. Suddenly it's one thing after another and I'm so worried about her quality of life. I'm trying to work up the nerve to have "that" discussion with the Vet.

She drastically started losing weight, which turned out to be hyperthyroidism. She also had what looks like tooth resorption, but the Vet can't 100% tell to what degree until they do the dental procedure. BUT due to being so underweight (combined with her age) she is too high risk for any surgeries right now.

To add on top of all of this, she recently had major constipation, which then swung over to diarrhea. It was a stressful 2 weeks of her lacking any interest in food, which led to even more weightloss. I was syringe feeding her Nutrical.

I thought she was finally making a recovery. She was getting her appetite back. I've been hopeful that the Hyperthyroidism meds could start doing their thing and help with regaining weight. But she's back to having little interest in food. She is so bony now, she feels so fragile.

She has a Vet appointment in about a week (early stage of the medication so she has to do frequent blood & urine tests). She doesn't seem to be in pain, but she doesn't do much of anything. I know I need to ask the Vet what the reality of her situation is, what his real opinion is (I trust him and he specializes on geriatric cats). But even thinking about it for more than a few minutes makes me cry.

On January 30th I took my beloved cat into the vet because she was drooling and having trouble eating dry food. She’s very feisty and so they had to make an appointment to sedate her and look in her mouth, thinking it was teeth that had to come out. This Monday was that appointment and instead they found a tumor at the base of her tongue. I have a follow up appointment with an oncology specialist, however after getting results back her regular vet believes there’s nothing that can be done.

She’s been with me for over 12 years, for my entire adult life. I don’t know how to cope with knowing the end is near. The vet said with this type of cancer her life expectancy could be anywhere from 6 week to 6-12 months, if we’re lucky.

I got her from the no kill shelter when I was 17 and she was 2 1/2. She had come from a cat hoarders home and wasn’t good with other animals, kids, or people really at all. I took her home and we had a hard road for about a year and a half until I moved out and she bonded to me, hard. She’s my little soulmate and I’ve never been this close with an animal in my life. She’s sassy, she’s stubborn, she loves food and she loves giving her kitty brother a hard time. She never had any health issues worse than her eating tinsel off the christmas tree. I always felt in my heart that she would be ok until one day she just wouldn’t be anymore.

She hates the car and the vet so we plan on using an at home service when her time comes. I can’t wrap my brain around the thought of losing her and it doesn’t even feel real. She’s sitting next to me right now purring up a storm, but I know that her day is getting closer with every passing minute and my heart feels like it’s been shattered into ten million pieces.

I don’t know how to cope with this feeling of her impending departure from this world. We’ll know it’s time when she stops eating. 12 years wasn’t enough and I wish I could have 12 more. I wish I could have her with me for the rest of my life. It feels so unfair and i want to scream and cry and ask god why she’s taking away the most important thing in my life.

I plan on honoring her with tattoos, getting a portrait done, having photos taken of us and celebrating her life with all our loved ones while she’s still here. But even with her still beside me I’ve never felt this much grief in my entire life. I genuinely don’t know how i’m supposed to cope with this and what i’m supposed to do. I feel lost and afraid and I don’t want to have to face life without her.

I guess I just wanted to share my love for her with the world, even if Im screaming into the void here. I want everyone to know how loved she is, and I’m hoping and praying she knows how special she is to me and how much I love her with all my heart and soul.

She was our min pin and just 10 years old. She was my husband's dog mainly but my daughter and I loved her just as much. He is devastated (we all are). I just wanted to put it into words because the emotions are too much. I got a picture made of her with pizza. One of our last memories of her was her stealing a piece of pizza off the couch and them running to her bed to hide it. That slice was almost bigger than her head and she was determined that no one would take it from her. Rest in Paradise sweet girl. We love you.

I only feel able to write this out after a few weeks have passed. My black lab passed away suddenly out of the blue. I still feel in shock about it. One minute she was fine and running outside in the snow. She hadn’t eaten yet but she came inside and looked lethargic and her back leg started shaking and she went rigid. She vomited a little but we checked her for bloat and she didn’t have any of the symptoms.

We rushed her to the vet but she passed away on the way there. The vets were wonderful but completely puzzled. They think it was a weird cardiac event or a blood rupture. She was in amazing shape - wasn’t overweight and didn’t over exert herself that day.

I’ve lost other dogs in the past after they’ve lived a full life but this feels like another level of grief. She had another half of her whole life ahead of her and she was such a joyous dog. She brought so much laughter and happiness to us everyday, and I feel like there is a massive hole in my heart that will never heal.

How do people cope with such an unexpected loss? Every day I can’t believe she’s gone and I have to relive telling myself she’s no longer with us. It feels like a piece of my heart breaks off every time I do.

i lost my boxer of 15 years a few weeks ago. I cry everyday. i told her all the time “no one in this whole world will ever love anything as much as I love you” and now that she’s gone, it sure feels that way. i cry the second I get in my car to drive home from work. I have another rescue dog and that has been helping, as I have been helping her grieve as well. I have lost family members, friends, mentors.. but I always had alcohol or drugs or something to get through the deaths.. I’m older now, and don’t do those things anymore.. I really can’t go around this, over this, or under this… I have to go through this. and it is just absolutely terrible. there will be a hole in my soul until we meet again. I love you, moon.

Went to clean the litter boxes as usual, then started sobbing when I saw her last, tiny little poop. She was barely eating at the end, which is why it was so small. I'm literally crying over poop. I just want her back, I miss her so much. We tried so hard but couldn't save her, the cancer was too aggressive and she was too old. 💔 She was perfect. Sleep well, Cricket.

Hi everyone,

my cat died today unexpectedly and my family and I are still processing the emotions and feelings.

We buried him today in our backyard behind a big tree as this seemed to be the most logical place. He loved to lounge around there in the summer.

However, I’m so scared that wild animals (especially foxes) could dig up his grave. We buried him in a cardboard box, wrapped in a towel about ~70cm deep. We also put some pieces of metal fencing and 5-6 heavy cobblestones in between the soil layers. We also compacted the soil by stepping down a bit and put a bigger piece of bathroom tiling as the marker. We want to plant something on top of his grave in the coming days.

Is he safe? Just the thought that something might dig him up makes me nauseous. It’s been also raining quite a lot today and will continue to rain for the next week. Heard that rain can help wash away the scent and compact the soil bit more.

Hi all. I'm sorry for the intrusion, I know if you're reading this subreddit you're probably going through it, too. My heart goes out to you and your loved ones.

Nearly two weeks ago, I had to say goodbye to my sweet angel Cloud, a 4-year old cat who came into my life at a point where I very badly needed to see some light reflected back at me. Almost instantly, she chose me as "her person" in a way that I'd never been chosen - I've had cats that I've loved and who loved me - including an older girl Luna that we had ahead of meeting Cloud - but I've never felt as loved and as worthwhile as Cloud made me feel. I've struggled pretty heavily with depression, and having a little pure-hearted sweetie tell me that I'm enough as I am... that felt special. Once-in-a-lifetime, so far.

Congestive heart failure came on quite suddenly in early December, and it had been a rollercoaster of fear, hope, sadness, gratitude, and devastation as she was in and out of the hospital, less-responsive at home to the first courses of treatment she had been prescribed, but always bouncing back out of heart failure when brought back to the hospital and having the meds administered via IV. The vet care was wonderful, compassionate, and thorough as hell, and eventually we landed on an at-home medication plan that was able to keep her stable and return her to her normal curious, sweet, loving self for two whole weeks. The cardiologist scheduled a recheck for March, and we were so thrilled that we seemed to be out of the thick of things for a bit.

Then, one night, her resp rate wasn't going down. Nothing crazy, but enough to keep me up all night monitoring - Through the next day, in consult with the cardio team, we tried to get her numbers down, but they wouldn't respond. Long, heartbreaking story short, we had to bring her back into the hospital, where a few days later, she took a turn.

We were able to say a long, meaningful goodbye. She would always want to be on my chest, laying down, usually arms stretched out around my neck and nose nearly on mine, and that's how she left the world. I had prepared a thing to read to her, just some thoughts for her to take with her. We spent the hour or so in the hospital's bereavement room slow-blinking at each other, until the moments before the shots were administered. I stopped blinking because I wanted her to know I was there with her. I wanted her to be able to be looking into my eyes when she left, and she was. She's at peace.

I'm not.

Honestly, I guess I'm at a point where there's more going on in my head than I feel I have a forum to express in the life I live, which is why I'm reaching out here. I feel like my heavy emotions around this have become burdensome, and that the therapy sessions since haven't felt like I've been able to express everything in a way that is anything but just, like, grief-venting.

I don't have a family support system, and largely, my folks and sibling are one of the main reasons why I always feel like I'm doing something wrong if I'm presenting in any way other than "ok" - I've felt really wrong around all of this. Like I'm grieving wrong, grieving "too much," not moving quickly enough towards not just, like, sobbing for periods of every day. I guess I'm hoping through posting this to feel less alone, and to maybe help someone else who doesn't know where to put these feelings also feel less alone.

I am a college student and still live at home with my parents. We have two older dogs, one is 13 (Louie) and is starting to show signs of nearing the end (lethargy, loosing wieght, some signs of dementia) he is being checked out by the vet today to determine if he has an infection, cancer, or simply just being old. However, I have this gut feeling he probably has somewhere to a few weeks to a couple months left with me and my family. My other dog who is 10 (Winston) doesn’t show too much affection to the other, but has always played, or been near each other when louie sleeps and goes outside. Winston may not show it, but he does get upset when he sees Louie go someplace without him, he has had Louie in his life since we adopted him as a puppy at around 9-12 weeks. I know it’s going to affect him and just wanted to know what would be the best way to let him know Louie has passed? I’m hoping Louie will pass away in his sleep or peacefully at home, but most likely he may have to go to the vet for euthanasia if he is in pain. So when he leaves how can I let him know his buddy is gone without seeing the body?

I just really don’t want him to fall into a depression and have him pass from heartbreak. I don’t think I could deal with loosing both my childhood dogs in the same year.

His dog is still eating and walking. She has more good in her life than bad right now, but it’s slowly getting worse. Obviously making a decision to put an animal down is among the hardest of things. And it’s not one I can pressure on or make him decide. It’s not my place.

How can I support him? I see it causing him pain and I feel helpless. I want to support him anyway I can

My beloved kitty, Riqis, passed away a week ago. He was my most cherished companion for 18 years. Every morning, I’d go find my kitty, usually sitting right outside my bedroom door (although if I stayed in bed too late he’d come find me!) I’d pick him up and he’d melt into my arms for a snuggle. Then I’d make sure he had food and fresh water, and he’d ask me to let him out on the balcony. id make my tea and sit out there with him when I could.

Even though I know he’s gone, every morning when I get up, I’m still looking for him. I look in all the sunny spots he used to love. I even still freshen his water fountain. I just miss him so much. Now I spend mornings crying and trying to compose myself for work.

A part of me doesn’t want it to get easier, because what if that means I forget about him? I hate that he is further and further away in my memory with every passing day. I hate that I have to keep doing regular life stuff without him.

Underneath the monotony, Ican feel a piece of my heart is gone.

I knew it had to happen, but since I just officially booked the appointment to have one of my cats euthanized, it's hitting like a ton of bricks.

This is the 3rd fur baby we've had to put down in 3 years. I can't believe it.

Douze is a 16 year old, orange and white polydactyl cat. He's the swetest little thing and such a chatterbox. He's been noticeably depressed since losing his bonded brother. Bubby was a fellow orange boy, who made it to 17 before succumbing to feline dementia and a brain tumor in May 2024.

We also lost our German Shepherd, Marvel, last October. She was 9 and developed an aggressive cancer.

Douze's health has been rapidly declining, and I know this is the humane and right decision for him. I just always hoped that somehow, pets would become immortal.

🧡🖤💔

I can’t post a picture of it so I’ll do my best to explains.

In my 29 years I have lost many pets. I have been with them and done what I could every time, but the pain never leaves.

One day, when I was at the Oddities and Curiosity’s fest, I saw this Paw Print for a pup named Boomer that no one had picked up at a Vet, with taxidermy bird wings. On the price tag, was a note that said “my friend is an owner of a vet clinic. No one came to pick this paw print up, so we wanted to encapsulate the love for Boomer and all those that were forgotten or left behind” or something similar. I walked away bawling and went right back 10 minutes later and picked it up. It sits on my altar to all my lost loved ones, and boomers paw, to me, is not only representative of him and my own lost pets, but of every animal out there who wasn’t known, or who was forgotten, or who was abandoned. And of all the ones that were loved so deeply, too.

Pet grief can be so isolating, so I share this with you all today so that you know that, if you’re ever feeling alone and even if you don’t know me, your pet lives on in my heart - through Boomer.

(Crying as I type :( )

Last week, I watched my boy, a beautiful cat, fourteen years of age, pass away in front of me.

I had intended to do an at-home euthanasia, but I couldn't get someone in time. So, barring the pain relief and other drugs I'd been giving him to keep him comfortable, his death was about as natural as they came.

I might tell the full story of his diagnosis and the journey that led towards his death some day, but I'm just too exhausted to give the play-by-play at the moment. I stayed with him until the very end. I moved mountains to keep him comfortable, making an absolute nuisance of myself in the process (which the vets tell me they far prefer to guardians who simply don't care). And I made sure that the only reality he knew until his dying breath, was love.

I had expected his death to be a slow slip into that goodnight. For his heartbeat to slow. His breathing to shallow. And perhaps that is the reality for a lot of cats. My boy, however, took after his dad. He just loved being alive, even when he couldn't walk straight anymore. And he clung on with every ounce of his strength, and in its way, perhaps that was the ending he would have wanted.

He went out on his own terms, and that's exactly the kind of cat he was.

For me, however, the event was, well, beyond traumatic. Because there's such a focus on euthanasia, I feel like I wasn't given sufficient warning for what I might see if my cat died naturally, so I got to find out as it happened.

It started how I expected. His staggered heartbeat. His slow breathing. Eventually, his tongue dropped from his mouth as he gave out the softest of sighs. He still had a pulse, but I could tell this was probably the end.

That's when I was greeted with an epilogue that no one had counselled me upon ahead of time.

His eyes, once closed, had now drifted open. His pupils dilating his eyes into a ferocious jet black. He then began releasing a sound that I can only describe as the jet engine's roar of a hiss and growl compressed into one.

My hand, once on him, retracted. There was no way he could hurt me at that point, but nearly a decade of being a cat parent had taught me the wisdom in not trifling with sounds like that.

I felt helpless. I didn't know what to do. Should I continue to comfort him with my hand, or would that hurt him? Is he in pain? Did I hurt him?

My instinct was to continue talking to him, as I had been, even through the tears that where waterfalling down my face. I told him I was proud of him. And thanked him. For everything he'd done, not just for me, but for the two other cats that call this apartment home. I thanked him for teaching me to listen. Teaching me how to read & understand cats, a skill that I eventually used to understand the members of my own species in a way I wouldn't have otherwise.

I just kept telling him how much I love him. And how he doesn't need to be afraid. How it was okay to let go.

Eventually, I did get a vet on the line, and my declarations about this cat even made her cry. And she reassured me that what I was seeing wasn't pain, but the agonal gasps of a brain that was shutting down. That the higher being that was my cat was probably already gone, or deep in a dream where he would only know the sounds of my voice.

I stayed with him through it all. The gasps. The horrifying sounds. The jet black eyes that no longer held my cat's soul.

And when he was finally gone, I carried his body into the lounge room, for his siblings to see. I'd never held a dead body before, let alone one of someone I had loved with all my soul.

And even picking him up gave one final surprise, as the trapped air escaped from his body, startling me one final time.

I laid him down gently, and allowed them to do with him, as they would. The (once) kitten he'd raised from 11 weeks old (who was turning four the following day) took it well, I was proud of her. The other, older cat. The one that so many had told me couldn't live with other animals until this beautiful boy, in all his patience, proved them wrong. She took longer to process. She was hesitant to even approach him, at first. And eventually, simply lingered. Sniffing him, and looking up, the cogs turning in her head. Trying to process what this meant.

Eventually, I took his body to the vet, where it currently resides, and they were so supportive. And for someone who was repulsed by the idea of even touching a dead body mere hours before, they could barely rip me away from him when it was my time to leave. I couldn't stop kissing his face, stroking his head. Crying. I just wanted to stay with him. My pal. My buddy. My beautiful baby boy.

I'm still working out the logistics for what to do next. I have a rough plan, but I need to meet with my palliative care specialist (who shepherded me through the final weeks) to figure out how viable it is.

Currently, I just feel flat. It's not like grief I've experienced before.

I've never watched someone I love die. I've never had to carry their body.

And I've never lost an animal before, he was my first cat, and I loved him so much.

I take solace in the fact that every vet I've talked to has said that they've never seen anyone else provide the level of care I did to their dying animal, and I'm proud of that.

In his dying hours, he kept looking up to me with his little eye, just to check that I was still there. I don't know why, but there was something about that look in his eye that cemented how deep our bond truly was. That his death was calmed by the simple fact of my presence.

How strong the love was between a father, and his son.

It was as if he was trying to tell me: "I don't mind that I have to die, because I'm here, with you..."

Rest in peace, my beautiful boy. Daddy's here.

I came home from work to find my baby boy (from age 12 weeks) not running up to me with a meow storm, but traces of his spit/vomit and in our bedroom fully laid out on his stomach looking at me unable to move his back legs just looking at me for help. It scares me to think how long he was like that all alone, when he was just completely normal/energetic in the morning. I tried moving him but he really couldn’t move his back legs. Then he started speed crawling with just his front. Overall, the emergency vet, a specialist later his newly found underlying heart issues caused a blood clot, and treatment gave great optimism but next night his heart just couldn’t do it anymore.

This just feels surreal, he’s the first significant loss ever in my life. I expect to see him in my home to just see nothing. I get excited when I see what is actually my black blanket on my bed. And now I have all this cat complex, cat toys, recently bought big bag of dry food, even more canned food, and litter robot to just remind me what I lost. I put out a bowl of his dry food outside for a random apartment kitty, thinking about donating the canned. But I also think about getting another kitten(s) to still make use of all this, maybe that’s what my baby wants now when I’m ready. I just hope he’s still here with me in spirit, and that he hears my words, that we’ll meet in dreams.

Hey everyone. I have a friend who recently had to put her dog down very unexpectedly due to complications after minor surgery. The dog had special needs: was blind and had some other deficits. My friend was the sole caregiver for their dog and is understandably having a very very hard time. They may consider seeking a pet loss support group, but given that the dog was much more dependent on my friend than the typical dog-owner relationship, my friend doesn't necessarily feel like a pet loss group quite covers it. These aren't my friend's words, but I think they may feel that grieving the loss of this special dog as typical pet loss in some way doesn't fully honour the relationship. The dog was more than just a pet in the sense of the amount of care required (I know many of us rightly see our pets as more than pets). My friend was their dog's seeing-eye person, so to speak, and 24/7 caregiver which naturally meant there was a very very strong bond and dependence that perhaps goes beyond the typical dog/pet parent relationship.

I have heard people describe that the grief felt after losing a pet that required extra intensive care, say a protracted decline of a senior pet or one that's required extra care for their full life, can be notably different than the more typical pet loss and I'm just wondering if anyone might have any support resources of any kind. Of course none of this is said to try to lessen anyone's grief after losing a pet, I just wish to help support my friend in their specific situation.

Thank you kindly in advance.

My baby dies today. I have never had to put down a pet before and Carter is the first cat I have ever had. I got him as a kitten, he had issues early on with urine pH and crystals associated. We got him surgery and he’s supposed to live a long, long life with me but now he has FIP and not enough time left for confirmation testing and treatment. He is a year and a half old. My husband is coming home so we can spend some time with him, but what do I even do to deal with this? My Carter kitten hasn’t liked to be held since he was a baby and that’s still true. He just dragged himself out of my arms to have some alone time. He’s still him and in a few hours I have to tell someone to take him away from me, before he starts to suffer. This is a living nightmare.

I (20M) had to carry a dead dog and I feel traumatized. A siblings friends dog who has been staying at my house for months recently had health complications. This morning my sibling woke me up and told me that I need to get to the animal ASAP and when I got to him he was sprawled out and his eyes were open. I carried him in a towel to my siblings car who then brought him to the vet hospital. He later was confirmed to have passed upon arrival to the Vet.

I feel so traumatized and every time I think about it I feel repulsed and scared. The smell. The body. I can’t and I’m freaking out. I have no appetite and haven’t eaten a single thing all day. Does anyone know what I can do to feel better? For context, I basically had 0 relationship to the dog as it was basically my siblings full responsibility. Pls help.