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The person who knew the mill owner convinced him to let the puppies live, but he refused to keep them longer than 4 weeks. This is how Missy found us. My grandmother worked with the kind-hearted woman who had a short time to find homes for all of the puppies and convinced my parents to take her I was 12 at the time.
My sister stayed up with her as a puppy and since my parents worked from home, she was with them during the day. I eventually left for college and Missy stayed behind, having grown very attached to my Mom. As the years passed she remained fairly healthy, but as the end neared everything started to fail.
She had CHF, breathing problems and finally kidney problems. Fall came and Missy seemed to be doing better. A storm rolled in quicker than my parents thought it would and they were stuck at the camp grounds. Missy had always been scared of thunder, but since her health had gotten worse so had her fear. She looked up at my mom one last time, my mom says she moved closer to her and then let her breath out for the final time.
I never got to say goodbye and my mother blames herself to this day, even though Missy was well into her golden years and had suffered longer than she probably should have. It has taken me nearly 30 minutes to actually type this between bouts of sobbing spasms at the memory of a lost friend, but also because my big dog is laying next to the couch with his head on my foot and one big black paw draped over his nose. So much of what you say about Luke reminds me of Sirius and I have no doubt that when the day comes that he must leave me forever, all the oxygen will definitely be removed from the room.
What a beautiful post, and what beautiful comments. I only wish we humans could have a loved one give us our last ice cream cone and hold our hand and help us to the other side when the time comes. In July my dog Sophie and I were driving to the beach for an early morning swim and I saw a small orange cat on the road — weaving unsteadily.
I stopped to take a look and saw that he was in very bad shape. At first he walked away from me but I waited and he came back and I picked him up. He weighed just about nothing, his eyes were sunken from dehydration, his hair completely matted, and he was full of fleas. He was close to death. I brought him home and the first week he just slept — only woke up to eat and drink. He was very weary — he needed to rest deeply and find some strength. My vet thought he was about Oh Trisha, a knife was stabbing me, when I read your blog! Last year, our Donar, a Bernese running hound, and I left home for our daily two-hours morning trip.
He happily ran in front of me through the woods when we met another dog owner with two dogs. They played so cheerfully together. I tried heart massage and mouth to snout breathing, but … too late. I phoned the animal ambulance which took us home to my sick husband who nearly broke down seeing our beloved Donar lifeless lying in the ambulance car.
Donar was the healthiest dog he has seen, so it must have been a sudden heart death. I thought of so many people who say good by to their beloved, not knowing that it was the last time! We have now a one year old Bruno du Jura and he is the best medicine in the world!!! I lost my Grace, the first dog that was really mine and my responsibility in March.
She got me through college and vet school and getting married. She was the pup that I learned all the wrong ways to train, and then inspired me to learn all the right ways. She was gentle and fiesty and the best dang puppy raiser ever. I thought I had another few years with her at least.
But i went home for lunch one day and she was not hungry. And Grace was only not hungry one time before- when she had a spontaneous lung collapse! So i knew it was serious. I got her up to the clinic and found a large bleeding splenic tumor. I kept my wits about me until i got in touch with a friend that is also a vet and handed over the information to her.
Then I just cried as my husband drove us to her clinic. That even if she survived it would most likely still kill her within a few weeks or months. I took 3 days to lay on the couch eating only pizza and crying. My profession means that I know far too well that things happen far outside our control. I can be the level headed professional in the white coat, but I know only too well how it feels on the other side. She was half pyr, and she loved it when the cool weather hit. I cried as I watched the other dogs run the yard. I made sympathy cards with Grace on them to use at the clinic.
The cards have a short blurb on the back explaining who she is. I feel like this way I am sharing something personal with the clients. I hope it lets them know I understand. Do you guys like it when the vet includes a paw print or claw paw impression of your dog with your sympathy card? I do paw prints on colored card stock, but i know a lot of clinics that make clay impressions and paint them. Are these helpful momentos?
Lots of love to Lassie…maybe she continue on with the heart and soul of a pup for a least a few years more! He was a challenge, he was a liability. He was a godsend. He lived because we could keep him. He hated kids we never wanted any , he hated motorcycles, bicycles, and things that moved we lived in the country on three acres , he hated mean people we were very kind. I always joked that Lucky would live forever because he was doing it to spite me. Because he was just to ornery to die. As he aged, his heart murmur became more of a threat to his life. On the last day of his life, he had a great morning, ate a full breakfast, then went to sleep.
I went out all morning for errands and he awoke as I came back in. He looked up expectantly as I knelt to give him a chance to sniff my whereabouts and to rub his fur. A few sniffs later, he had a fatal heart attack. I will never be able to thank him for 1 not making me decide and 2 waiting for me to come home to help him cross. I was with him, held him, cried into his fur as he left me. Thank you for this. My girl has lymphoma and was diagnosed almost 3 weeks ago. She is slowing a little and every nite she cuddles up close and sleeps with me. But I know the steroids are amost at the point of not working….
Is it today, tomorrow, next week? And how will I know….. But it will be done when it is time, with her curled in my arms as my beautiful Rhodesian Ridgeback Karma and stay close in my heart always…. Thank you, thank you so much for this post. I lost several people, a pet rat, and 2 ferrets in the last year.
I kind of shut down for a time. My guilt and grief culminated after I lost my heart ferret in March unexpectedly. I was beating myself up for still grieving him and the others when I came to this blog to check in as I have for the last year. It reminded me that grief is not something you can decide is over. It reminded me about all the good things I enjoyed with each of the lost. To those still raw from a loss my heart goes out to you. May she live forever. Less than a month later, dear Lucky another maremma was released… he was always an anxious lad and had a terrible first year of life until he came into rescue.
After Lucinda passed he became increasingly anxious and unsettled.. I let him go without waking him.. Then in april maremma sisters Angelina and Margali both died……. My pack is diminished without them but but life has been immeasurably enriched by their presence. Even though the blog and comments are primarily aimed at dog people, I noticed a few cat persons posting, too.
My cat has terminal mammary cancer. Last night DH and I made the decision to save her from any suffering and say our goodbyes while her quality of life is still just that: Instead of a last-minute frantic rush to the ER hospital, we opted for a house visit from a vet who comes to the home.
Oh Linda, my heart goes out to you. You only have to decide one day at a time. Then spend the day making it the best day you can for her. And one more thing…. If it helps, the last 2 times I put dogs down Tulip and Pippy Tay , we made the decision and then spent days giving all of us what we needed. I took lots of time off, spent lots of time with them, did their favorite things as best we could. It was still incredibly hard, in part because I guarantee you they will get better on at least one of those days , incredibly hard, but it helped me tremendously to have that focused time to help prepare myself.
Please think of yourself too. Bless you, Trisha for commenting on my way-to-long post, The pre-bereavement counselor suggested I automatic write my thoughts each day in he form of a letter to or about Sandy. On those bad days I still dote only it comes closer to hovering and I think that tends to make her nervous, so I back off. One of her wounds has ulcerated even more and she is licking it constantly and moving less. I examined it closely. Of course I want to hold her another day,…but not at the risk of this getting even worse and causing pain.
Its comforting to know that we all grieve intensely when we lose a special animal. And I worry about all the ones that I want to get into that very special home. The grief is no less for the shelter dogs than it is for my pets at home or for even the wonderful people who have graced my life and passed on. I do think I grieve more intensely for the dogs that I feel were cheated on life. It was easier to say goodbye to my 14 year old coonhound who was retired from SAR work and therapy dog work and who had bone cancer. He never even looked up when the vet pulled in the driveway. He was ready and content and had lived a long life.
My SAR dog who died from lymphosarcoma at age 8 I think I grieved for 5 years or more until I broke down bawling at a compassion fatigue seminar. Shame on someone for belittling the gifts we give our pets in their last moments. I bought my SAR dog fresh bread when the bakery opened before the vet got to the house. He ate the whole loaf. I euthanized him and buried him in his working harness.
My hound was buried with two rawhide chewies between his paws.
He only ever got them once a year on his birthday and he never chewed them. He simply lorded over all the other dogs for 24 hours till I took them away the next day. Interesting is that despite him being gone for more than two years now, not a blade of grass, flower or paw print graces that grave. I tried to plant flowers and they always got kicked out. I blamed squirrels even though squirrels rarely dare to step into our yard. Grass never grows there. Odd to see them sidestep at a full run.
The rituals that give us and our beloved pets peace should be valued with utmost importance.
I was out of town with the other two dogs and it was the best gift I could give him…ten days to treat his girl like the princess she deserves. I hate to acknowledge that her clock is ticking louder and louder with each labored breath. The pain and it is definitely a physical pain of losing a beloved pet is made so much worse by the guilt of trying to decide when the right time is for euthanasia.
And we all decide differently. In some, we decide to end their lives on a more positive note, believing that extended life without quality is useless. Despite the fact that I truly believe we made all the right decisions for her, my husband and I both still suffer bouts of guilt and anger about some of the events of her last week of life. Some words that were shared with me after having to make the decision to put down one of my horses rang loud and clear.
It is interesting to substitute the word control for affect as well. I hope this simple message will bring some peace in your heart if you are struggling with the decisions you have had to make.
It did to mine. He had been diagnosed with lymphoma and my vet had him on predisolone and antibiotics for the last 6 months of his life. I decided not to put him thru chemo because of his age and he hated going to the vet. I cooked for him every morning and night and took him in the car everywhere that I went. I tried to make him as happy and comfortable as I could. I have incredible guilty feelings that I should have gotten a second opinion, I wonder if I should have had him on predisolone for so long, did I put him to sleep too soon.
My beloved Golden Retriever, Ellie, was a God-send, and endured heart surgery and cancer with me over the last 2 years. She patiently waited and watched, and comforted me. The hemangiosarcoma was a shock, at 7 yrs! She had the tumor removed, but was so advanced that they told me months. It is has been over 2 months. I am seeing her less active, and the tumor has regrown.
She it showing some signs of stress, and I know that it is time. Thank you for this article. I know that it is time to end the pain for her. Please pray for my children, they are devastated. I did get a puppy this last week to help bridge the gap, and that seems to be helping. I will miss her, but I know now that I owe her the gift of peace. I feel so guilty. I feel like I murdered him. He was nearly blind and pretty deaf, he was on 9 pills in the morning for his thyroid problem and 1.
He couldnt stand up for any period anymore, he had to lie down to eat, and hadnt been able to go for a walk for two years. Yet even though it sounds a hell of a list he was still my Fudge one minute and gone the next. Oh Sarah, my heart goes out to you. You could have done nothing, and let your dog begin to suffer terribly and perhaps die a terrible death, but you did the brave, courageous thing and helped him into another world.
I hope it helps to remember what I said in the blog: Cyber hugs to you. I am so grateful for websites such as this that help immensely with the healing process. He could no longer walk and had accidents in his bed. I know that I made the right decision, as I would not want to have such a poor quality of life myself. I named her Sophie because she was such a pretty girl. Sophie loved to run and run and was such a free spirit.
However, part of her running included chasing cars. My husband hooked her up to her rope in the driveway and we both knew that on a couple occasions the clasp would fail when she hit the end of the driveway, breaking away and running. She was only on the rope for two minutes while I prepared breakfast for all of my cats. That all it took for her to dash off and get hit by a car and killed.
She had gotten loose in the past, but stayed on our private road. If I could only turn the clock back and not make that fatal mistake again. We just put down our beloved Westie, Scruffy. She seemed to be a little less active age 7. She was found to have hepatic and renal failure. What do you do? Refer to referral hospital…she has renal failure…can they alter the course of end organ failure????
She is now in dog heaven we believe…. May God bless our Scruffy…. I am going through this right now. Today is Friday, but on Monday we will be putting our dear puppy 11 months down for behavior problems. He loved to go retrieve bumpers in the yard and play with the kids in the backyard. But every once in a while, for some reason, a dark cloud would come over him. Now, after several bites we have had to make the hard choice.
We know it is the right thing to do, but it still hurts sooooooooo much. Thank you for the above post and all the heartfelt responses. You feel like you are the only one that has ever had to go through this…I see that I am not. We will love our Orion forever, just as I know he loved all of us too. We will place him in the backyard so we can visit him. I hope the pain ends for all of us, and we remember only the good times. We look forward to seeing him at the bridge someday.
He was a good dog. She was an 8 yr old black lab. She was going down hill really fast. On monday, she was eating and drinking, but she was vomiting and had poops. Tuesday was more of the same, but she would eat only treats. By wednesday she stopped eating all together, but drinking like no tomorrow only to throw most of it back up. I took the day off to be with her. She laid down beside me and I rubbed her tummy. She was sooo content, but still not eating and vomiting water.
Friday came and the vet called us back saying to get Shadow to her office as quickly as possible. Thursday night, was when I knew something else was wrong. Shadow had blood in her urine. Never a good sign. I picked up my husband from work and we drove to vets, both thinking that she would be coming home. The vet gave us grave news. Shadow had hemangiosarcoma canacer of the blood vessells and arteries. A tumor that was on her spleen had ruptured and started to bleed internally. Her heartrate was up!
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My poor baby had basically hours to live. With my husband standing behind me, I gently took her head into my hands, told her what a wonderful girl she had been for the 9 months that we had her. She was in my heart always and that soon her pain would be over and she would be free.
I hope that she understood, still no tear shed my eye. Strength from deep within, held the tears in check. As I watched them inject her, time seemed to slow. I closed her eyes and softly kissed her brow. I pat her for several minutes until the vet checked her heartbeat one last time. With that the barrage of strength left my body and was replaced by waves upon waves of tears. I kissed Shadow one last time. I told her that I was sooo sorry and that I hope she could forgive me.
I was crippled by sooooo many emotions all at once. Guilt, shame, horror, grief, hopelessness just to name a few. My head knew that there was no other choice for my decision to euthanise Shadow. The vet gave her merely hours left and those hours would increase in pain and discomfort. She lungs would close up on her and she would literally try to gasp for air.
Is that what I wanted to her? Gone are the days were a wagging whip of her tail greeted me as I came home. No more kisses to give. I had to show her my greatest act of love for her was letting her go quietly and without more pain. A week has gone by. I miss her terribly so. I sleep with her collar wrapped around my wrist at night, just so that I know she is near. Last night, I even cuddled with her favorite ducky toy. Just to be near her. Still have those waves of pain and loss and guilt. Would I take away that decision to let her rest peacefully without a tragic death?
Not if my life depended upon it. Tonight, I will still sleep with her collar around me wrist, but knowing that there are others out there that have the same intense love for their dearly departed pet, calms me. I am not alone! The promise that I made to her last friday have been fulfilled! Last year in June we had to let his sister go to cancer. He has congestive heart disease and is increasingly becoming more uncomfortable, especially at night. Years ago we lost a 4 year old westie right before our eyes. Is one pain greater than another? The guilt regarding Duke is proving to be the greatest.
But thru it all and with blogs such as this, I can know in my heart, if not in my mind, that Duke will rejoin his family over the rainbow and will always be with me. I chose for him what he could not ask for; I grieve for what I will lose but cheer for all the unconditonal love he has given and for the joy he brought when our 4 year old passed so suddenly. No matter what, thanks for offering this site….
To Linda, and her Duke: No guilt, no guilt, toss it away, truly. Yes he could still wag his tail, but you prevented him from dying a painful death, and greater love hath no person than that. Vets tell me all the time about dogs who were let go too long, who ended up suffering terribly A good friend of mine who is a vet let one of his dogs go too long, and found her in a horrible state when he returned one day. I think I let Lassie go too long, wish now I had helped her on her way the night before she died.
So no guilt, no guilt. Take care of yourself. Lucky boy, that Duke. Thank you so much for this post and the many others who have added their stories. We sought help from many vets and trainers to help him overcome his issues, but unfortunately after an incident involving a child we had to make the decision to put him down.
The guilt has been overwhelming as are the almost constant moments of missing him. I have a constant ache in my stomach of guilt and sadness. Everyone else in the family seems to be coping better than I have. Knowing that time will heal and that others have experienced what I am going through helps as well. Hopefully, the guilt will subside. I can only hope that our sweet Teddy is running around in Heaven while waiting for the rest of us! Thank you for your post. It was very encouraging to me.
We had to put our 9-year-old lab down…it was so quick and unexpected — tumors on her spleen. I felt so guilty, like I killed her — causing her cancer some how. She had an infection of the uterus — took her in for that first, then they ran tests. She lost lots of weight in a week — not eating, lethargic. We thought it was the bordeom of her food or a bad tooth.
But, then in my motherly gut I knew it was something more. Somehow I knew when my husband took her in — she would not be coming home. Our other dog is so sad. She is about 4 years old. Our girls — 12 and 8 — were heartbroken to hear the news. We said our last goodbye. Now, I am feeling guilty not being with her when she actually received the injection.
I gave her a bath last Sunday — she loved it, forever I will treasure that moment. I know you have tons of emails and comments to read and you may never get to this one, but your writings about the loss of your dogs has touched me deeply and I wanted to share with you my tribute to our 14 year old collie, who I had to say good-bye to yesterday. He came to us in the summer, a wee little collie man, with a scratchy old nose and bumpy old body.
I remember the first time I gave him a bath and how pathetic he looked, dripping wet and skinny with lumps all over. But I sat with a brush and blow dryer and a little while later he looked magnificent with his silky, shiny collie coat and striking white ruff. He bounced on his front legs and barked, knowing, I think, how beautiful he looked. Merlin loved his back yard. He spent many hours laying on the back porch, watching over his world. Even when his old legs ached, he jumped up each time someone passed the yard and ran to the fence with his awkward old gait, his raspy bark warning intruders that it was his area and he would protect it.
Then he lumbered back up to the porch, eyes shining, and tail wagging, proud that he had defended his family and warded off danger. Sometimes he chased birds out of the yard. Sometimes he barked at birds that tried to fly through the air space above his yard. He took very seriously his job as guardian of his home. The things kozmo and i have done. He was the first ducking dog i trained. I made allot of mistakes with him,but the mistakes i made helped me to be a better trainder.
He and i learned to hunt fowl together. I have ownbed him since he was 8 weeks old. Should i send him to the other side b4 he starts to decline or should i wait a few months until he gets visibly ill? I know that if i do this ,i will kick myself for not letting him go with dignity and grace. Please help with some input on my plight and point me in a direction i can live with.
For shane, I putting my 14 year old Lab mix down Wednesday morning. His seizures are becoming more frequent and more voilent. The vet suggest Phenabarb but that will only make him sleep and get fat. Otherwise, he is healthy and active. I AM going to spare him the indignities of incontinence and blindness that are sure to come in the next few months. And many of my friends say they waited too late.
Thank you for writing this. In two months time she had gone from always ready to play ball and frisbee to being worn out by a walk around the yard. I truly would have done anything to help her but hemangiosarcoma is cruel and in the end all I could do was spend time with her doing what she loved for as long as she could, then help her ease out when life became increasingly difficult for her. How good that you could be there one last time for your dear dog. What a blessing you gave her. My heart goes out to you…. I made the decision to put down a beautiful rescue that had been abused.
I worked with his fear aggression and it decreased but it seemed that he was then developing dominance aggression. He had bitten times, when I rescued him. Once just snapped when he was startled out of sleep, caught the skin. Once bit the abusers hand, had to see dr but no stitches and clamped down on coowners had when she was trying to move him from kennel. Soon after I got him, he snapped, growled and bit me on reflex when I once startled him.
Not thinking the person walking him smacked him on his snout trying to get him to release it. Poor dog, he released the object and attacked the person. Understandable…he had been abused and he never should have been touched at all. I then got a trainer in to evaluate him since I have decades of dog but no experience with abuse or aggression. He turned on the trainer, who as far as I could see was not hurting him…but WAS preventing him from moving away from him. I tried to find someone with experience to take him, and was willing to do what I knew I was capable of doing.
I ended up putting him down. This dog was a perfect angel otherwise. I am now certain I did the wrong thing, based my decision on fear and I am tormented by guilt and remorse. The pain is really excruciating, I feel like a murderer. He had bitten 3 times, out of fear, snarled and growled warnings many times, and postured growled defensively a few times.
Bertie, now five, wears bow ties when he joins Kathy at work events in a nod to his namesake, enjoys swimming and playing in the dog pool and even eats cheese. View this post on Instagram. Irish News Paul Williams: Irish News 'I live in a state of misery' - husband of missing Tina Satchwell still buys her The Daily Digest Today's news headlines, directly to your inbox every morning.
Diving into the world's No. Also in World News. Woman, 84, rejects bingo in retirement to graduate from university Janet Fein could not be blamed for finally relaxing, Father loses appeal over IVF conception of daughter using forged signature A father whose ex-partner forged his signature to Mother who 'sacrificed daughter to God' found not guilty of murder A woman who drowned and burned her four-year-old I bought suits on credit card and brown boots with reassuringly clacky heels.
Once we saved up enough money, we bought a cheap-as-chips eye-gougingly lime green couch to sit on instead of the floor, we thought we were the fanciest people on the planet. We felt like a Couple, doing Big Adult Things in the world. Our rented house seemed so very big compared to our two bodies. They are a lot of responsibility honey. Let the record show over the next 13 years, I did not. Not in the practical sense. I provided cuddles and backyard picnics.
My love provided everything else needed to keep that dog alive and thriving. Or maybe a German Shepherd? First — the big, unruly dogs with a glint in their teeth, that threw themselves unabashed at the metal in their cages. We are soft people. We need a gentler dog than this. And then the tiny dogs — the quivering Pomeranians who looked despairingly out of place in those concrete cages. We need a dog who is more rugged than this. Just as I gave up hope, there at the end of the stalls was Cage Chris clipped him off his lead and he immediately ran, ignoring us, and began exploring every crevice of the paddock with great joy.
That right there is probably all you ever need to know about Charlie. He ran for the hills at every opportunity. Seven days to make sure he was a stray, that there was no family out there searching frantically for him. Maybe they just held him for as long as they needed him, and then gave him to us. I convinced my two dear work friends still two of my closest friends now! Deb and Lile to tramp down the street in sleeting, sloshing rain to meet him. His whole body alive with joy. They laughed and cooed and congratulated us, then huddled together against the rain, walked back to the dry warmth of work.
In a split second, Charlie threw his body between his seats and leapt onto my lap. He played like a puppy long after he had ceased being a puppy. And long after his desexing, he continued to romance blankets. My dog also fell in love with her. He also believed he shared many lifetimes before with her. And it was very, very obvious that he believed they were beloved soulmates. He gazed at her in a way I have never seen a dog look at a human before. Whenever she would come to visit then over the next 12 years, we grew to expect the same routine: And our dog, our companion, our little mate would disappear from our sides.
In the mornings we would find him, head on her pillow, gazing at her sleeping face. Not only that, but he set up a great arch of piss across the room, which soaked my jeans through from 2 metres away. I thought our ceiling had collapsed in the rain, but it was just his tiny, excitable bladder. One day, on a message board, my very very very favourite author appeared. SARK is my Beyonce, my wind beneath my wings, my lighthouse who showed me the way.
Life is not complete without reading a SARK book! They are a goddamn revelation! I thought about writing about the trees, the sunset, the way the alpine sky danced against the lavender mountains. And the truth was, in that moment, that Charlie had dragged an old bedsheet out into the backyard, and was making sweet, sweet love to it, while staring up at me through the window. SARK howled with laughter. She proclaimed him her spirit animal. She mentioned him in one of her books. She included a photo of him and me in another of her books. Why on earth the fuss over a silly, blanket-fucking little dog?
Eventually, after many years of being a trio, I convinced Chris we needed another dog. Our old pound dog and our younger needed-rehoming-from-abuse dog did not love each other. They barely tolerated each other. They were dogs that would growl at each other testily for the audacity of daring to intrude upon their very wide personal space boundaries. They were dogs that would, on special occasions, attack each other and draw blood. We would joke that at least when one of them died, the other one would not pine.
It would be victorious as all get out that it had finally won the competition to be the Only Dawson Dog! Charlie became very much my dog.
Angel decided Chris was the only being on earth worthy of her love and attention. Not long after that, I decided, actually, that it was time for a baby. Maybe my wish to get another dog was actually just the beginning signs of me wanting to expand our family. Chris was excited — he had always wanted marriage and kids, but had been waiting for me to give the thumbs up that I was ready.
He is nine years older than I — and we got together when I was He knew there was a lot I wanted to do before I popped ze babies out, and was respectful of that. He is also very hot. Have I ever mentioned that? I became pregnant, and as nausea swept over me, I longed for more space. After six years of sleeping all cocooned up with Charlie dog, it was time to move him off the bed.
I missed him and he missed me, but my belly began to bloom and my hips began to ache and Charlie was no longer my baby. My baby was cradled up in my womb. To the changing of something you loved for so long. Letting go of the closeness of one relationship so you can experience more. But I really, truly missed my dog and the sweet, quiet life we shared together before babies began. Two feelings can exist together. And all relationships are sacred and special and life-altering. When I came home from the hospital, there was Charlie, sitting beside me as I nursed for hours on end.
And there he was, beside us, as our lives continued to revolve and grow. There was Charlie as we moved to the year old cottage my grandmother had lived in, in my hometown. For hours, he and baby Ostara would sit by our front door, looking through the screen to the busy street outside. He would sit in the garden with us, and we would chase away the large eagles that swooped too close to him and Angel.