Grieving a lost pet
4 comments
I'm sorry for your loss. People don't always understand, but losing a pet is losing a family member. I wish I had a quick fix for you, but I would recommend you take a couple of days off, try to find happy pictures you have of him, talk about the silly things he did with friends, and let yourself grieve. Covering up the feelings with work or activity may help in the short term, but there is nothing like taking the time to grieve. He sounds like a great dog, may he rest in peace.
Thank you. He was definitely a member of the family, albeit a hairier one with less discretion for what went in his stomach.
But really, thank you.
But really, thank you.
Labradors are special dogs. There are many excellent dog breeds out there (and great mutts too), but the Labrador's "people skills" are almost unmatched.
We've had Labradors and other dogs as well. Some of the other dogs were perfectly happy running around outside all day. The Labradors wanted to be where the people are so badly that it hurt. Being separated from the people is the only thing that caused the Labs any visible distress.
Your story of your dog laying at your feet while you work rings so true to me. I have one lab who comes to work with me sometimes. His only misbehavior is when we try to force him to not follow and be with people. His favorite thing is to come into a meeting, curl up in the middle of the circle of people, and konk out, completely happy and content.
Labs so often get the "part of the family" distinction because they stubbornly refuse to accept anything less. They demand to be in the circle of people.
At least, that's been my experience with labs.
We've had Labradors and other dogs as well. Some of the other dogs were perfectly happy running around outside all day. The Labradors wanted to be where the people are so badly that it hurt. Being separated from the people is the only thing that caused the Labs any visible distress.
Your story of your dog laying at your feet while you work rings so true to me. I have one lab who comes to work with me sometimes. His only misbehavior is when we try to force him to not follow and be with people. His favorite thing is to come into a meeting, curl up in the middle of the circle of people, and konk out, completely happy and content.
Labs so often get the "part of the family" distinction because they stubbornly refuse to accept anything less. They demand to be in the circle of people.
At least, that's been my experience with labs.
He lived a long life with a loving family. He won the game of life as much as any being can hope for. There's nothing to be sad about for him. Only for you who doesn't get the benefit of having him around anymore.
We had to put our chocolate lab to sleep today. Snickers was 12.5 years old and we've had him since I was a senior in high school. The vet once said he was the biggest lab that's ever come into the clinic. He kept my mom and grandpa company while my sister and I were away for college. When he got diagnosed with cancer almost a year ago, both me and my sister moved back in to take care of him. Might sound crazy to outsiders, but to us it made perfect sense to do since he watched over our family while we were at school. Anyways, it wasn't much trouble... it's hard not be please a dog when all he wants is a steady supply of burritos and Arby's sandwiches.
Because I work from home, I've had the opportunity to spend the last few months of his life right next to him. I've witnessed his ups and down, and surely he's suffered mine as well. I come to appreciate him best when I'd code late into the night, when he'd rest at my feet as I worked. I'd look over to check on him, usually expecting him to be asleep, but now and then I'd spot a glimmer of monitor light reflected in his eyes as he just stayed up and watched. It was comforting to know that he was always there with me as I worked while the rest of the world slept.
Today, we took him to the vet for the final time. He developed a cough, but we knew something worse was at hand. Ultimately, the tumor in his stomach had enveloped his whole chest and he was slowly suffocating. We decided to put him to sleep today -- even then, he outlived his best-case life expectancy scenario by half a year.
I've been staring at a blinking cursor all day, thinking I'd be able to work, but knowing deep down that I couldn't. Night's here now, but he's not.
I'm happy that he's at peace now, but, well...
How do you do it?
Snickers, I hope you're enjoying more roast beef sandwiches than you can handle. Woof woof.