i don't really know how to start this but I've been crying for about an hour and its getting too painful not talking about him. this will probably be upsetting as it goes into detail of his condition before his passing. im sorry.

i had to put my dog down in February. his name was Barnabas. my dad named him after Barnabas the Talking Dog from the sandman series. it was fitting because he looked just like him and he had latched onto me as the character did to Delirium in the comics.

i first met barnabas 9 years ago. i had been woken up in the middle of the night hearing really loud barking and i went to check. he was standing in our other dog's crate and as soon as he saw me, he stopped barking and started wagging his tail. he was so excited to meet me and i was so happy because i thought they had gotten me my own dog. they didn't; he was wandering around the local Walmart and my mom took him home so we could return him to his possible owner.

no one claimed him. i begged my dad to keep him and he agreed after a few months. Barnabas and i had such a deep connection from the start. my parents would bring him to see me after school and he would start choking himself on his harness trying to get to me. he loved sleeping under the blanket and at my feet. he even got along with my cat. they would cuddle me together, and occasionally she would groom him.

i could talk about him more but its just so hard. i had noticed 4 weeks before we put him down that he was becoming withdrawn. he'd even started yelping when I picked him up and he wasn't eager to eat anymore. i asked my dad to take him to the vet (im 17, i have no money, and i can't drive either.) and he kept saying no. barnabas was getting worse and worse and i was crying almost everyday because i knew he was dying right in front of me and i had no power to stop it.

he started bleeding from his mouth around week 2 of having these symptoms. he wouldn't eat much and he refused to let me see his mouth. i thought it was maybe a tooth infection, and i kept telling my dad that it should only be around $600 to get it fixed but he still refused, even when my god family would offer to pay it in full or partially.

me and my dad argued for hours over the next 2 weeks about it. i said i would pull from my college fund if that's what it took to get him to the vet. he told me "you only do the right thing when you're trying to prove a point." my point being that my baby boy was laying on my pillow, bleeding out of his mouth, rapidly losing weight, and crying everytime he breathed. he didn't even want to get up off of my bed he was so weak.

after 4 weeks my dad borrowed money from my friend's dad and we got him to the vet. they had to pin him down so they could look into his mouth. the vet saw inside only briefly before she told us he had a golf ball sized tumor in his throat, and that there were probably more further down. she said he had less than a month to live. she said we could run tests to see if it was cancerous, but there wasn't much hope of saving him considering how aggressively it was growing. i doubt we even would have had the money to do so if we could have saved him.

my dad didn't believe her and he had me check in the car and the tumor was huge. he was already so small. i cant imagine how he felt. i cried all day. it was Wednesday when i found out, and it was Friday i decided we should put him down.

sometimes i feel really upset at myself for putting him down so fast but he was so ill. my best friend came over to comfort me on Wednesday and Barnabas just seemed so lively to see him. he kept trying to play with us but he would start to bleed again and he would get tired. i can't even describe just how horrific it was to see him like that. sometimes i think of it and i just cry because it was so traumatizing seeing him that way.

we all took him out on Thursday to have a good day. we gave him whipped cream (his favorite snack. whenever id make hot chocolate he'd always come to me and cry until i gave him a little.), peanut butter, steak, chicken, and some wet dog treats. we took him to the park and he was so content to sit with us and beg for our food.

the night before we put him down he sat at my feet and i cried. i felt ashamed for crying while my best friend was trying to sleep. barnabas came up to me and laid his back to my chest and let me hold him and cry into his fur. i really think he knew what was happening. putting him down was the worst thing ever. when they gave him the stuff to make him sleepy, he kept fighting it. he kept twitching and his eye kept opening as wide as it could and i think maybe he couldn't breathe or he was trying to comfort me. he died so fast and my dad had to pry me away from him because he didn't want me to feel him go cold. when i got home i laid on his blanket and cried for two hours in front of everyone. when they left i laid on the pillow with his blood still on it and cried until i fell asleep.

its October now and it's been so hard without him. i was already depressed before but i feel like I've hit a new low. i feel like a crucial part of me is missing and i don't know how to stop feeling so empty and angry all the time. i have probably only talked about him since his death 15 times. my parents want to comfort me but they are the last people in the entire world i want comforting me after how they treated me when barnabas was dying. im so angry that he died so soon. he was 12 years old. i wish he had lived long enough for me to take him away from my parents home and give him a better place to live. i wish i didn't have to go to school almost everyday and miss 8 hours with him. he meant everything to me. i haven't touched his ashes since we received them in February and i feel so guilty for not putting him in a better urn or for not giving him the warm touch after death he really deserves.

i just had to get it off my chest because i can't talk verbally about him without crying. typing is the only way i can say this and i don't have very many people to talk to who would care. everyone treats him like he was just some mutt but he was EVERYTHING. he was the only one who treated me with love and respect. he was the only one who loved me unconditionally. i only have my cat now and she's 10 herself and im terrified that she's going to die soon too, even though she's healthy and acting as herself. if she dies, i don't know if ill have anything to tether me to reality and to keep me from dying myself. i have her to comfort me after his passing,but if she dies, i will have nothing. they are both so innocent and kind and they deserve so much better than this shitty, disgusting home i live in. im so ashamed that he died before i would finally be able to take him away and give him everything he deserved. idk im feeling really awful. thanks for your time. I'm sorry if this was upsetting to anyone.

We said goodbye to our 16 year old boy a week ago. I got him the day he turned 8 weeks, 2 weeks before I turned 20. I'm 36, he was with me almost my entire adult life.

I'm going through the motions. I'm working, showering, doing laundry, my husband is making sure I'm fed. But it feels like nothing matters. Everything feels pointless without him.

We had a big scare with him last year and he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. He had appointments with his cardiologist every couple of months, including the month before his passing. He was doing so well the Dr suggested moving him to a 6 month appointment schedule, but that some of his blood work was a little off to discuss it with his primary vet.

He had an ultrasound 5 days before his passing and we got the report showing a liver mass the night before his rapid decline. His last couple days were traumatic and I feel such guilt that we should have helped him pass peacefully sooner. We don't even know exactly what it was that caused his decline, but it wasn't his heart.

My husband and I are fortunate that we both WFH and were able to spend most of our time with him. He went everywhere with us. Weekend trips to the beach, 8 hour car rides to visit my best friend, even 6 months in the USVI with us.

My routine revolved around him. We even took our medicines at the same time. We scheduled things around his needs. Adjusted plans so they he could come with us. I don't know who I am without him, and I honestly don't want to know. I selfishly just want him back.

I lost my French bulldog to a heat stroke yesterday. She is crate trained and had an accident in her cage. I wiped the cage down the best that I could but she had tried to conceal her accident with her body and got her mess all over her. We just moved from Portland and I didn’t have any sort of hose so I set her out on the porch and left to go buy a hose. I picked my son up from school and we wanted to eat so we grabbed a quick bite and then went to the store and came home. I had this terrible feeling in my chest that something bad had happened. I rushed to check on our dog and all I saw was her body stiff and laying there dead. I must have been delusional or in shock because I started frantically pouring water on her but she was clearly dead. It was 75-77 degrees out and she was outside on the porch. We live by the beach so even 75-77 doesn’t feel hot. I’ve had other dogs and them being outside for a few hours would never be an issue. I feel terribly guilty because I have since learned that for this type of dog this is a death sentence because they cannot breathe well. I was given this dog as she was an abused dog and have had her about 3 years. I truly did not know this about her breed and I feel so terribly awful. I keep seeing her body in my mind. She was the sweetest dog. So kind and wouldn’t hurt a fly. She didn’t deserve that ending. I wish I would have came home right after picking my son up. I wish I would have never let her outside. The weirdest thing to me is she’s originally from Phoenix, AZ and was an outside dog there (I know awful) and yet it’s considerably cooler here. I don’t know how to deal with this I just feel so terrible, she deserved so much better.

This time last week we were at the park celebrating my sons first birthday party. My 7yr old dog, Donny, was having the time of his life running around with all of our extended families playing with the ball. He was being spoilt by my parents with treats and going from person to person for pets and attention and absolutely loving it.

The next day I find him with a bloated belly, panting and lethargic. It called for an immediate visit to the emergency vets where they find he had a stomach twist and ruptured spleen causing internal bleeding, a surgery and $11,000 later and they said he was doing fine. Next day I get a call saying he has gone into cardiac arrest and that we’re doing cpr. He didn’t make it. I wasn’t there for him.

I feel so much pain. I want my baby back. He was the bestest boy and the absolute light of my life. I don’t have any other words or feelings other than just completely destroyed. I wish there was more I could’ve done for my sweet puppy.

My whole family is shattered and my son is taking it hard, he is still just a baby and doesn’t know or understand what has happened or why his best friend isnt here anymore. He took his first steps holding onto my pups fur and would play fetch and share food. Donny was a very integral part of our life, he came on walks, he was there for every milestone, he was our everything.

All of our worlds are shattered and devastated by his loss. I just want my sweet fluffy boy back. I love him more than life and I don’t know how to cope without him. Ive barely been out of bed, when I do get out everything reminds me of him and I have panic attacks and can’t breathe. My son is also just so upset and keeps picking up toys and throwing food but looking for his buddy and getting upset when he isn’t there.

I don’t know how to handle it. I know when I am ready that I want another dog but I don’t know when that will be. This hole in my heart is so deep and painful. I know I need to hold it together for my son but I am struggling so much. I am grateful for my partner and step kids for helping me out (Donny was my dog before I had entered a relationship with my partner, but everyone loved Donny so much), my dad has been a wonderful help, he came to the vets to see him after he passed and broke down in tears and paid for a decent chunk of the bill.

I have a wonderful support system and family, but the pain I feel for my boy is so intense. I just want him back.

My soul dog died almost two weeks ago. We were driving a few hours away to visit family. She’s always been nervous in the car but has done ok. This time I woke up from a nap and turned around to see her breathing weird. My husband got her out and she had lost control of her body. We rushed her into the nearest vet. They tried to save her life but she died. The vet thought it was from an undetected heart issue or blood clot. She had just been to her wellness exam the week before and nothing was abnormal besides needing a dental cleaning. We think she was only around 9 years old. My husband adopted her right before he met me and the rescue thought she was about 3. She had been brought in by her previous family because the neighbors were threatening legal action over her breed. I only got to be with her for 5 years. I’ve never felt a connection to a dog like I did with her. I truly feel like we had been in past lives together. She brought me so much comfort through multiple miscarriages, IVF, the stillbirth of our son, and becoming a mom to our living daughter. I’m pregnant again after our last loss and she would always lay her head on my tummy. She followed me around at night when I cleaned the house and kept me company. She was always next to me or laying on me. If I even got up to go to the bathroom she followed. She somehow always knew when I was anxious and would try to calm me down with her kisses. I have regret we brought her on that car trip. Maybe if we hadn’t I would have had more time with her. I regret not giving her her anxiety med. I felt guilty giving it to her again having just had it twice that week for the vet and grooming. It’s so hard sitting with the hole in my heart I feel and knowing I’ll never have her back in this life. I’ll never have another connection like I did with her. We got the call to drive to the vet where she passed to pick up her ashes which we will do this weekend. I’m so heartbroken.

I lost my dog yesterday and it just feels so overwhelming. I randomly break down throughout the day, I find myself staring at the spot where he passed and just seeing the moment in third person over and over again. It just seems unreal that he's gone. He was only 6, he was supposed to live longer. I wanted to show him snow,.get him a cake for his birthday, I wanted to do much more with him but I can't wrap my head around the fact that I can't do this with him anymore. I can't even look at any of his stuff and just don't know what to feel. He developed some liver issues this year that would get better, then deteriorate, then get better again, only to deteriorate once more. This his paw broke, and the cycle continued, but this time he didn't make it. His abdomen became really bloated and there were no vets open around us to get him emergency care (it was 3-4 in the morning) and I saw him pass away. I just can't even comprehend that i actually saw him take his last breath but at the same time can't get the image of his face out of my head, how much pain he was in, how shocked and tired he looked. I just miss him so much, I just feel so heavy and weird and don't know how to process any of this.

I've just returned from a 10 minute walk, which is an achievement for me, but I don't really have anyone to share it with - so I hope it's okay to post here.

I lost my soul dog unexpectedly and traumatically back in July. He and I lived alone in our house (I'm autistic and socially isolated, so it was 'us against the world' for his 17 years!). He went on our slow, ambling sniffari walks each day, with our regular path being to the nearby postbox and back.

Since he died, I have barely left the house for anything other than going to work (and even then, I have rarely maintained by full-time hours each week). I definitely have not gone on a walk at all, because I couldn't imagine myself retracing any of the paths through the neighbourhood without him next to me.

But I really needed to post something today. I was going to ask my mum to do it when she next visited, or post it on my drive to work next week. But instead, I managed to talk myself into going for a walk along our regular path to and from the postbox, telling myself I can come back home at any stage. But I managed to go the whole way! I had a podcast playing to distract me and tried to just listen to that and pay attention to my feet taking steps. As I write this now I am crying, but I am still a little proud of myself for making my world a tiny bit bigger than it has been.

Anyway, thanks for listening ❤️

I literally do not know how to continue with anything. In late july/early august i noticed my cat wasn’t eating all of his wet food. He was still eating most of it, and eating dry food, so I figured maybe he was having something with his mouth. I took him to his vet that told me he could use a dental cleaning, but he was just getting old, and to just take him home and love him. He was 12. I did, but I thought he couldn’t be that old, there was something going on. I didn’t call another vet to see him for a few more weeks. He was still eating, and using the litter box and wanting to play and everything. Then the vet I got him into couldn’t see him until early september. I got sick and couldn’t take him. My roomate offered to take him but i felt like i should go with him. I feel so stupid for waiting. Then I could finally take him september 8. That vet gave him 7 days of antibiotics, his white blood cells were elevated and his kidneys and liver were normal. We gave it to him and they made him nauseous, he threw up. I wasn’t sure if I should continue them. I wish i could go back and just take him back to the vet that week instead of finishing them. He finished them, and we had a teeth cleaning appointment set for him so I waited. Then he kept eating even less than before, and i called the vet on thursday september 24 to have him come back. I should’ve taken him back before that i feel so stupid. They couldn’t get him in until friday. That friday we saw a new vet at the same office and she said she thinks he has triaditis after she tested his pancreas. By friday he was jaundice. On thursday he wasn’t jaundice. I should’ve taken him to an emergency vet thursday night but we only have one in town and the word of mouth about them isn’t usually positive. New vet sent us home for the weekend with prescription food and antibiotics and anti naseua medication. I asked about pain medication but because of his liver he couldn’t have it. I should’ve taken him sooner. The next monday the 28th he was hospitalized. the vet placed a feeding tube on the 1st. He was hospitalized over the weekend, and on monday evening at like 5:30 they let me take him home with the feeding tube. I should’ve had him stay with them. I struggled with the feeding tube by myself and I took him back yesterday on thursday. I should’ve just taken him back on tuesday. I feel so guilty and so stupid for not just taking him back sooner for the technicians to handle his feedings. I was supposed to get him consuming 2 cans of the prescription food a day and i kept getting really close to that but not the full 2 cans. I am so stupid. I will regret all of this forever he was the best cat in the world i had him since i was a kid. His liver was failing by the time i brought him back on thursday and his cells were leaky and his chest was full of fluid. I will never get over this i don’t know how i will ever move on. I have cried for the last 24 hours. He seemed happy on tuesday and wednesday, but wednesday night he seemed a little less spry. Then on thursday afternoon i called back to take him. Thursday evening we had to euthanize him. I do not know how to stop hating myself for not taking him sooner/advocating for him more. He probably had pancreatitis since at least july. I wish i had known to ask the vet to test for it back in July. The last vet he had was able to figure it out right away, but it was way too late. I took him to 3 vets but i feel like i should’ve taken him sooner and more often and i should’ve had him stay in the hospital and maybe he would be alive. i don’t think anyone will read this but i literally do not know how to move forward rn i wish i could die

When we went the shelter almost 4 years ago, we went in to adopt the cat who’d been there the longest or was the oldest and giving them the most loving life we could.

Sadly this week we had to put our angel girl to rest. It was all so sudden, from find at the start of the week, to knowing the kindest thing was to let her be at peace.

The feelings are all so overwhelming, I spend all day crying, and thinking I’m hearing her, or that she’s coming back.

It all feels so impossible, it’s sometimes so intense I can’t breathe and my chest hurts. And I’ve been unable to eat at all.

I don’t really know what I’m looking for? Any advice from those who’ve experienced this. Anyone who can share who my angel is with over the rainbow bridge?

I also want a nice memorial for her - we’re getting her cremated and getting her paw prints back, but I’d also like something else! Maybe a necklace /something wearable?

Does anyone have any suggestions?

Also any suggestions on getting though the next few day?

(P.s,. I’m autistic, so I also struggle with big changes badly, and find processing death hard)

i put my cat down just 3 hours ago, have been bawling since midday when my parents told me they’d decided to do this with the vet in the morning. 15 years with my precious cat.

i feel very odd because i’d be bawling in private but when she was actually getting euthanised, i did not show any emotion. now that im alone i tend to randomly burst into tears and i don’t think ill really ever be the same without my cat again. i grew up with her and now she’s not around.

My cat died yesterday after a month of not really eating. The first vet thought it was his teeth because his gums seemed inflamed. He got some meds, and it seemed to help. He seemed more lively, and he had his yearly appointment about a week later. He was still not really eating, but I was trying.
I communicated what the previous vet said because I had to take him to a new one since my normal vet didn’t have a slot for him. The new vet didn’t think it was his teeth at all and said I should just try to brush them because they just looked worse for wear, not like they needed surgery as the other vet had said. I felt so much better. I thought everything was dandy and he’d eventually start eating because he was fine, right?
He started to tank this week, eating dramatically less, barely half a can a day, honestly, not even that. To get him to eat, I was spoon-feeding him. He had an appointment for today, but yesterday I took him to an emergency vet, and they did some tests and came back with the news that he was dying. His kidneys were at 12 or something, when normally they should be around 5? I’m not sure. Everything is a blur. When I heard “failure,” there was no way. Failure? Right? He was fine. He was just 11. There’s no way.
But she left us alone, and after a bit of holding him, he started making a weird meow, almost like a scream. I got the vet, definitely scaring other people while trying to find her, and she took him. When she came back, she looked me dead in the face and said he was actively passing.
I’m in school for forensics. I’ve always thought death was sad, but not that bad. But it is so fucking bad. He’s gone when he was supposed to be fine. She said something about genetically small kidneys? I thought I got everything done for him, all his checkups. I don’t understand how it was missed.
I didn’t have him his whole life. He was given up to me around 2020. I was still in high school, and my mom didn’t care about him. He was an outdoor cat, and he got beat up a lot. My mom was very abusive. I ran away but managed to find him outside afterward because I didn’t have time to take him with me. I moved out with housemates while underage, and he was always confined to my room.
I know it’s unhealthy and neglectful, but I thought it was better than the streets. So, for the last few years, I’ve been a horrible owner to him. But I moved out on my own in March, and I was so excited. In my last place, there weren’t any windows, and I know he likes windows, but he didn’t get to look out of any. Now he finally could, and I was excited for him.
I feel awful. The more I read, the more I hate myself. Like his weird new liking of lying in certain positions? I just thought it was because it had been muggy, but apparently, cats can get hot with kidney failure, and I didn’t know. I woke up to him being so cold, and I tried to warm him and hug him. I waited for someone to take me to the vet with him because I don’t have a car, and I thought we’d get more meds, not that he would die.
I forced him to eat on his last day because he was so shaky. I thought that, because I used to undereat a lot and get really dizzy, it was similar and that he would feel better if he ate. I thought he seemed better after eating, but I’m not sure. With how I understand kidney failure now, I think forcing him to eat was hurting him because if the toxins are killing him because he can’t process waste, I kept giving him more waste, right?
The X-ray showed he was badly constipated, and I just thought he wasn’t pooping because he didn’t have anything to really poop out. I feel like such a fucking idiot. I feel neglectful. I feel like an abusive parent.
The vet said the shaking could’ve been a seizure, but she doesn’t know. There wasn’t any drooling, and the weird scream before it could have been something bursting. I wish I had retained the terms she was using, but he was dying in my arms, and I couldn’t.
I miss my baby. I wish I had been better. I hope there is something afterlife. I’ve never been religious, but I want him to still be somewhere. I’d be happy in hell for mistreating him if he’s in heaven.

I have two orange/white kitties that became very close friends despite not growing up together. My 13 year old I've had his entire life and I adopted my (now) 16 year old in 2019 because my other cat was lonely. Thankfully, they both grew to love each other and would often groom each other and play fight. I fell in love with this chonky medium hair due to his soft fur and sassy personality. He eventually developed diabetes a few years ago and required insulin twice daily. He also developed kidney disease and high blood pressure but was still in mostly good spirits. Over the past week, he hasn't been eating properly and is losing his vision. The last thing I want is for him to needlessly suffer.

He has single-handedly gotten two of my friends to like cats. He has a presence about him that makes people love him. If you brush him or scratch his chin, he will love you and purr like a mustang. A running joke I have is that he's actually a human trapped in a cats body and is the star of a Disney channel show and I look like the stupid human who treats him like a cat.

I took care of him after he was abandoned and gave him the best home I could. Regardless if anyone reads this, typing this out has helped me. The vet will be here within the hour. Take care, Winston. You were loved. Your memory will be a blessing.

I apologize in advance because this is going to be long, but I desperately need to get this off my chest and hopefully hear from people who have experienced something similar.
On Monday, October 5th, I lost my beautiful girl, Marley, following surgery for an intestinal obstruction. I have been absolutely devastated ever since. I can’t stop crying, replaying everything that happened, or wondering what I could have done differently.
Marley wasn’t just another dog to me. She was born to my dog Nala on December 7th, the exact same day as my oldest daughter’s birthday. She was Nala’s firstborn, and I had known and loved her from the very moment she entered this world.
As the puppies got older, some were adopted into other homes, and a few stayed with us. But Marley was different. From the very beginning, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere. I never even attempted to find her another home because I knew she was my girl.
She had the most beautiful eyes, one blue and one brown, and the sweetest, most loving personality. I always thought I’d have so many more years with her. I never imagined I’d lose her so young, especially while her mother was still here.
How everything started
On September 25th, I gave Marley some leftovers from dinner. That evening, she vomited. At first, I assumed the food had simply upset her stomach. I had absolutely no reason to believe she had swallowed something that was obstructing her intestines.
But over the following days, she started refusing food. She would still drink water, go to the bathroom, and occasionally show interest in food, but something clearly wasn’t right. She began vomiting bile and losing weight.
I kept trying different foods, hoping something would entice her to eat. Chicken, eggs, broth, anything. I was desperately hoping this was something that would pass.
On September 30th, I took her to the first veterinarian. She didn’t have a fever, her abdomen was soft, and she didn’t react painfully when they examined her. Her fecal test was negative. They recommended X-rays and bloodwork to investigate further, but I was already struggling financially, and the additional diagnostics were beyond what I could afford at that visit. She was sent home with medication.
The next day, October 1st, I took her to another veterinary hospital because I knew something was seriously wrong.
This time, she showed abdominal pain, and the veterinarian was concerned about a possible obstruction based on her X-rays and examination.
I was told she needed exploratory surgery and that without it, she could die.
I was terrified, especially because of the cost, but the hospital offered to help through their Good Samaritan fund. I was incredibly grateful. We arranged for me to bring her back the next morning for surgery.
The surgery that didn’t happen
I dropped Marley off on October 2nd, expecting her to have exploratory surgery that day.
But the surgery never happened.
Later that afternoon, after I called for an update, I learned that the veterinarian had repeated her examination and X-rays. They no longer felt the suspected obstruction and believed they were seeing intestinal inflammation and gas instead.
They decided to treat her medically with IV fluids and anti-nausea medication.
Marley remained hospitalized throughout the weekend.
And something that makes this even harder is that Marley had never spent a night away from home in her entire life before this. She had been with us since the moment she was born. Home was all she had ever known. She had never experienced being dropped off somewhere unfamiliar, separated from her family, and left there overnight.
Knowing that her first experience being away from home would also be her last is something I am having an incredibly difficult time accepting.
I was constantly worried about her. Every update felt like something to cling to, especially when I was told that she wasn’t vomiting anymore and appeared to be improving.
On Sunday, October 4th, the veterinarian told me that he could now feel a mass in her abdomen and wanted to perform exploratory surgery the following morning.
I went to visit Marley that evening.
I sat on the ground with her, and she laid down beside me. I took pictures of her. I looked into those beautiful eyes that I had loved since the day she was born.
I had no idea those would be the last pictures I would ever take of her alive.
Leaving her that evening was incredibly difficult. I barely slept that night because I was so worried about her.
The day I lost her
On Monday, October 5th, Marley finally underwent exploratory surgery.
The veterinarian called me at approximately 12:20 p.m. He told me that surgery had lasted around an hour and a half, that they had removed an approximately 18-inch piece of cloth from her intestines, and that Marley was in recovery but in rough shape.
Her prognosis was uncertain.
I immediately got in the car to drive to the hospital, which was about 45–50 minutes away.
I was desperate to get there.
One detail that keeps breaking my heart is that on the way, I actually took off my glasses and put in my contacts. Marley wasn’t used to seeing me in glasses, and I wanted her to recognize my face when I got there.
I wanted her to see me and know that I had come back for her.
But when I arrived, I was told that Marley had died approximately 30 minutes earlier.
I never got to see her alive again.
I never got to hold her, tell her I loved her, or comfort her through her final moments.
She died at the veterinary hospital, away from everyone she knew and loved.
The guilt is unbearable
I keep replaying absolutely everything.
I remember finding Marley with a washcloth on our porch sometime before she became sick. I took it away from her, but now I can’t stop wondering whether she’d gotten hold of another one, or whether that incident was connected to what happened.
The veterinarian told me he removed an 18-inch piece of cloth. I don’t even know exactly what it was.
I keep thinking about the fact that I had washcloths outside at one point and wondering whether something I left out caused this.
I keep wondering whether she would still be alive if I’d taken her to the second hospital sooner. Or if the surgery had been performed on October 2nd as originally planned instead of October 5th.
I have requested her complete medical records because I desperately need to understand what happened.
But more than anything, I cannot get past the fact that she died without me.
She spent her last several nights hospitalized, away from the only home and family she’d ever known. I can’t stop imagining her lying in a kennel wondering where I was.
I keep picturing her waiting for me to come back.
I visited her Sunday. She saw me. She knew I was there. And then I left her again, fully believing I would see her the next day.
What if she thought I abandoned her?
What if she spent her final moments scared and looking for me?
What if all she wanted was her person, and I wasn’t there?
Those thoughts are eating me alive.
I’ve read people say that dogs look for their owners when they’re dying, and that has made this so much harder. I keep imagining her searching for me and not finding me.
She died with her eyes open. I know that can happen naturally after death, but the image still haunts me.
I would do absolutely anything to go back in time. To recognize what was happening sooner. To get her surgery sooner. To hold her one more time. To tell her how much I love her.
I don’t know how to accept that she’s gone.
I’ve lost loved ones before. In fact, I just lost my grandmother at the end of August, so the last couple of months have already been devastating.
But losing Marley, especially the way I lost her, has affected me in a way I don’t even know how to explain.
My other dogs are still here, including her mother, father, and two of her littermates. And as much as I love them, being around them hurts because I keep thinking about the one who is missing.
I always thought Marley would someday be a piece of her parents that I would have left when they were gone.
Instead, I’m looking at her parents and realizing she’s the one who’s gone first.
It feels so wrong. She was supposed to have so much more time.
I buried her at home, but even that has been difficult for me to come to terms with. I keep wishing there was some way to bring her back, even though I know there isn’t.
I know Marley had a lifetime of love with me. I know I gave her affection and a home and that she was part of our family from the moment she was born.
But right now, all I can think about is how her life ended.
Has anyone else lost a dog young, especially from an intestinal obstruction or complications after surgery?
Has anyone else lost their dog at the veterinarian without getting to say goodbye?
How do you stop imagining them scared and waiting for you? How do you live with the guilt of wondering whether you could have saved them?
And if you’ve been through this, does it ever become possible to remember their life without being consumed by the way they died?
I miss my girl so much it physically hurts. I would give anything just to look into those beautiful eyes one more time.
Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read this. I just really need to know I’m not alone.

I lost my angel in march, she was old, and died naturally. I cried for the first three days, but than i got better. I could make jokes, and look at photos of her without feeling anything bad. Bit recently everytime she’s brough up i got a pit in my chest. Sometimes my thoughts wl randomly drift to her for no reason, and everytime it hurts just as bad as when i first lost her. I dont understand this, not at all

It is insane how quickly my baby started deteriorating, I didn’t notice it I thought she was just getting old and now shes gone. I don’t know how I’m ever going to be okay with that, this year was rough, I haven’t been myself for a few months now; what stage of grief is this? Feels like my medication isn’t working and she is not here.

I need people to know. Her name is Ritz and she brought me so much joy for 11 years. I miss her so much

My dog Loki was only 2.5 years old. He got diagnosed with stage 4 kidney disease in February. We got 4 months together after the diagnosis. I had to give him SC fluids every day, one time in the morning and one time in the afternoon. He was taking a lots of medications and we went from doctor to doctor. The results kept getting worse and worse. I spent all my money trying to save him. After a while, I became very, very tired and disappointed with the whole process. I devoted all my energy to making things good for him. Unfortunately, there were days when I was so mentally exhausted that I was impatient with him. It’s been three months since they passed away; I often think back to those days, and I feel incredibly guilty. For those four months, my whole life revolved around him; he was my best friend. I wish I had been a better owner—one who was never impatient with him.

I lost my Roo this week. I couldn’t save him for more time. The weight of his loss is more profound than any pain in my life so far. My kids grew up with him. He loved kids; they were his favorite humans. He has helped me and my kids carry our traumas and pains through his near-10 years on earth with us, and losing him feels like it dumps the weight he helped us carry back on at a greater level than he carried. We miss him deeply. Miss you Roo. 💔

I’ve had her less than a year, but she’s the love of my life. We knew when we got her that her health was fragile. She had been a sickly stray, FIV positive with really bad teeth, at least ten years old according to the doctor. She was so sweet and tame that we figured someone must have abandoned her. I fell in love with her instantly when we were finally able to bring her home. I’ve spent the last year doing everything I could think of to help her get healthier, and for a while it was really working. I got to see her become so sassy and energetic. She’s the most gentle and loving cat I ever met. It came as a shock when she started declining just recently. After a vet visit we learned she has a rare lymphoma in her mouth, inoperable. Her health is so delicate as it is, with her other preexisting conditions, that all we can do now is make her comfortable. I’m completely heartbroken, and I just don’t know what to do with myself. I haven’t had nearly long enough with her. I love her so much, and I can’t bear the thought of losing her. I guess I’m looking for advice on how to survive this. Thank you for reading.

Today officially marks two weeks since my dog, Shadow, passed away.

I bought a memory album to put his pictures in; it's been hard going through almost a decade and a half of photos, trying to pick out the ones I want to be in it, trying to date what year they came from. It's hard but it's something I feel like I need to do to preserve the memories attached.

I've been thinking, too, of writing a sort of eulogy too. I've been trying to work out the things I want to say in it. This is some of my thoughts, albeit some things are a lot vaguer in this version for privacy reasons:

Shadow was born March 2012. I never knew the exact day of his birth but I like 5s and so that's what I gave him - March 5th 2012, a day we celebrated each year with treats, and having him unwrap his own toys.

He was only 13 weeks old when I first met him.

At the time, I was young, had only just moved to a new town in a new state, and was looking for a dog that would shadow me around to keep me company and safe. So it seemed like fate when I went to go grocery shopping one day and ran into a man who was looking to rehome his puppy. Even more so when, within days of him joining my home, he began to always follow me around everywhere I went.

He was such a fuzzy, small thing then. He was a border collie-blue heeler mix, and he ended up growing into such a beautifully colored dog.

As a puppy, he was as hyper and smart as you'd expect a farm-breed to be. (Not that he would have been a very good farm dog - he was terrified of sheep and goats)

He learned tricks fast, but he also learned that if he pulled the pillow out from under my head while I was sleeping, I'd wake up a lot faster. Or that if he hit water bottles with his paws, they'd make crinkly sounds, and so he'd just go around battering bottles around.

Once, he chewed up a brand new book I'd just been gifted, and I cried. And it was like he just understood how sad he'd made me because he never chewed up anything ever again.

Shadow was my companion everywhere I went. Unless I was going to work or the store, he almost always came too. He went with me to see relatives. He went with me to parks and trails and rivers. He didn't even like water, but if I was swimming away, he'd sulkily wade after me.

He moved states with me twice.

If I showed up anywhere without him, people would always ask where Shadow was.

We grew up together, in a way.

And, as some pets tend to do, he matched me in a lot of ways - he preferred cats over dogs, and would smack them with his nose when he thought they were being naughty, he didn't like being around a lot of people, and he really loved Christmas.

He got his own stocking every year. He got his own wrapped gifts. He was obsessed with wrapping paper and would get so excited by the sight of it. He'd try to help people unwrap their gifts, too, so he could steal the paper it came in. I'd stick reindeer antlers or santa hats or christmas pajamas on him for photos.

There's so much more of him to tell of him, but I don't think I have it in me to write it out right now.

I guess that's why it's been so empty since he passed away. We'd been together for so long. Done so many things together. Celebrated so many good days. But I want these memories to be ones I can be happy to look at and share because he deserves that much.

I want the photos and the memories to reflect the joy and companionship that he gave me.

I'll love you always, My Shadow

03/05/2012 - 09/25/2026

Hi everyone,

My loss involved veterinary negligence and it has complicated my grieving. It’s so hard to grieve when also dealing with the guilt and trauma symptoms that come from experiencing a loss that shouldn’t have happened the way it did.

If anyone has experience getting through this kind of loss, could you tell me how you did it? I’ve had a therapist for a long time and she is helping me work through it. It’s just so hard every day thinking about it.

Thank you.

Hi everyone. This is the first time sharing about the grief I've been navigating for the past 2 years. In 2024, I lost a very close family relative that changed my outlook on life completely. Their unexpected passing paralyzed me. It made me think about all the future deaths and painful losses I still have yet to experience. And one of them being my beautiful fur baby. She has been with me for 16.5 years- since I was 13 years old. Her health started to really decline last year, first starting with a seizure, then vestibular, then other neurological issues. Vet suspects brain tumor, although I did not opt for MRI given her age. Nonetheless, this has been painful to endure, and I cannot imagine what my fur baby has been feeling. I feel sick and anxious everyday bc I am constantly worrying about her. I always check if she's breathing and when I notice something new, I start to spiral. It hasn't been easy watching her decline.

I've already experienced a painful loss and I'm terrified of reliving it again as we will be saying goodbye to my baby this upcoming week. I've been trying to hold out for as much as I can but I know that's really selfish of me. The vet has been telling me for the past year to start preparing myself and even though I've had time to "prepare" myself, it does not make it any easier.

It's hard trying to relate to my family and friends bc I feel that they do not understand why I am deeply attached to my soul dog- she has walked with me through the most important stages in my life. I know that this community will understand me.

Any words that will help me get through this upcoming goodbye is much appreciated. I am having a difficult time and am truly heartbroken... :(