Lost my dog 3 years ago in a fire...still having feelings of guilt and remorse Petloss

Sorry in advance--Long post with lots of details ahead. Never really got the chance to get all of this out and it's been eating away at me.

My freshman year of high school my garage caught on fire. My 2 year old Great Dane, Daisy, had been living in the garage for a few months (it was January, and she wouldn't have been in the garage if I had my way). She had a nice wooden dog house in the garage with a fluffy dog bed and food and water as well as a space heater that was safety approved. (Fire investigation later found a refrigerator was the cause of the fire, not the space heater).

My sister and I were getting ready for school in the morning when we noticed the garage was on fire and smoking really bad. I was on the phone with 911 before I was even clothed, and the police showed up before I was even off the line. There was barely time for me to throw on whatever clothes I could find, but I knew I couldn't leave my dog alone in the garage while it was literally on fire! The cop said he would take any measure necessary to make sure I didn't go back for her. It was horrible.

I live legitimately 10 seconds from the firehouse, so I assumed that they had adequate time to put the fire out and rescue my dog. It took eight firetrucks nearly an hour just to set up to start putting the fire out. As they arrived, we had heard no noise from my dog. I was scared that she had already passed and began crying/mourning over her. (possible trigger warning--kind of violent/sad) Not too long after, and the fire was really going now, I heard her barking and crying and banging on the metal garage door with her paws. At first I was happy because now they had time to try to save her, she wasn't dead after all! Then I started to realize I was listening to my dogs death. Every time I imagine how scared and how much pain she was in I cry so hard. The metal, the smoke, the fear, and the pure heat had to have been unbearable for her! She had no one there, her humans were not there for her and she was alone with the fire. She had a workbench she liked to hide under when she was naughty, and I like to think she possibly passed away there after smoke inhalation caused her to pass out. That's the only comforting thought I can come up with when thinking about what happened.

I felt like if I had just waited a few more seconds, I could have opened the side door to the garage and yelled for her to come. If I had just had the time and the sense to do that I think I could have saved my dogs life, as well as years of heartache.

Only a few months before this happened my chihuahua was ran over by a vehicle I was in, so the death of Daisy just made it even harder.

How can I possibly try to work through my feelings of guilt of being unable to save my dog and leaving her alone to her death? It's been a while, and I thought the pain would get a lot better with time. However, it's still very prevalent in my life. Any advice would be appreciated greatly, and thanks for reading :)

Submitted June 26, 2016 at 10:54AM by angissocool http://ift.tt/28V29dK Petloss

Lost my dog 3 years ago in a fire...still having feelings of guilt and remorse Petloss

Sorry in advance--Long post with lots of details ahead. Never really got the chance to get all of this out and it's been eating away at me.

My freshman year of high school my garage caught on fire. My 2 year old Great Dane, Daisy, had been living in the garage for a few months (it was January, and she wouldn't have been in the garage if I had my way). She had a nice wooden dog house in the garage with a fluffy dog bed and food and water as well as a space heater that was safety approved. (Fire investigation later found a refrigerator was the cause of the fire, not the space heater).

My sister and I were getting ready for school in the morning when we noticed the garage was on fire and smoking really bad. I was on the phone with 911 before I was even clothed, and the police showed up before I was even off the line. There was barely time for me to throw on whatever clothes I could find, but I knew I couldn't leave my dog alone in the garage while it was literally on fire! The cop said he would take any measure necessary to make sure I didn't go back for her. It was horrible.

I live legitimately 10 seconds from the firehouse, so I assumed that they had adequate time to put the fire out and rescue my dog. It took eight firetrucks nearly an hour just to set up to start putting the fire out. As they arrived, we had heard no noise from my dog. I was scared that she had already passed and began crying/mourning over her. (possible trigger warning--kind of violent/sad) Not too long after, and the fire was really going now, I heard her barking and crying and banging on the metal garage door with her paws. At first I was happy because now they had time to try to save her, she wasn't dead after all! Then I started to realize I was listening to my dogs death. Every time I imagine how scared and how much pain she was in I cry so hard. The metal, the smoke, the fear, and the pure heat had to have been unbearable for her! She had no one there, her humans were not there for her and she was alone with the fire. She had a workbench she liked to hide under when she was naughty, and I like to think she possibly passed away there after smoke inhalation caused her to pass out. That's the only comforting thought I can come up with when thinking about what happened.

I felt like if I had just waited a few more seconds, I could have opened the side door to the garage and yelled for her to come. If I had just had the time and the sense to do that I think I could have saved my dogs life, as well as years of heartache.

Only a few months before this happened my chihuahua was ran over by a vehicle I was in, so the death of Daisy just made it even harder.

How can I possibly try to work through my feelings of guilt of being unable to save my dog and leaving her alone to her death? It's been a while, and I thought the pain would get a lot better with time. However, it's still very prevalent in my life. Any advice would be appreciated greatly, and thanks for reading :)

Submitted June 26, 2016 at 10:54AM by angissocool http://ift.tt/28V29dK Petloss

Possible pet hoarder who can't cope with loss...how can I help? Petloss

I have a family member who is keeping a deceased pet in their refrigerator. They plan to keep it there for four days before taking it to be cremated. I worry frankly that the animal will start decomposing. This is the third time I know of that they have done this. They refused to consider euthanasia as an option and allowed the animal to suffer for months. The time spent with the animal had a negative impact on their relationships with friends and family. The person rarely left the house and always compromised plans. I should add that there are nine other dogs at their house, two of whom have chronic conditions. Am I dealing with an animal hoarder? If so would it be appropriate for me to offer to get them help? This has been going on for about 15 years. The house is often unsanitary and smells of ammonia. The person has a chronic sinus condition that started after the animals arrived. Sorry to be vague about gender and the type of animal, but I absolutely cannot risk them finding out I posted this. Thank you in advance. I am at my wit's end.

Submitted April 27, 2016 at 11:38PM by Thr0wTh1sAcc0untAway http://ift.tt/1pFZS9A Petloss

Jamie Petloss

Jamie 3/12/2016

I smell like poop. It’s not from something that smells like poop it’s from actual poop. We took Jamie in today at noon to die. I still hear him. For some reason I still hear him. As the pink shot started to go in. I wanted to stop it. But I knew it was already too late. He went quietly and peacefully. With his head tucked facing the left towards Jodi, into the green and white plaid hospital blanket. The vet said that he might twitch or breath or ???? (The same vet that had told me his kidneys were failing 3 months before.) But he just laid there. He was just a bag of bones that smelled like poop. He breathing wasn’t labored it just became unnoticeable as it stopped. And then about a minute after she told us he was gone. He made a little sound, kind of a sneeze, two of them.

This morning wasn’t a good morning. When I woke up at 6 he was meowing at the door of his room. The room where he slept because he used to wake me up whenever he was hungry. And walk on my head and lick my cpap mask where the air comes out. So he got his own room. But this morning he wanted out. He was wobbly he couldn’t poop and he wanted out. So I fed him and gave him water and the senior #3 from gnc. He drank a little, ate a little, and then we came downstairs. We went to the kitchen so if, and when he peed of the floor, it would be on linoleum. I brought the bed that we bought for Stella, because he had peed on her old one, into the kitchen and laid it by the gate across from the refrigerator and his kitty gate got put in the doorway of the laundry room, with his litter-box on the floor. the doors to the washer and the drier were shut. They were shut because he had peed in both of the machines, at one time or the other. His bed was covered with a towel. Usually a fresh towel because he refused to lay on a towel that the dog had laid on. I took the kitty bed that he had peed in two nights before out of the dryer and laid it by the sink. Fresh water in both bowls the small on with ice and the big one because Stella had drunk out of it. But like I said this morning wasn’t a good morning. He was having trouble pooping he would hunker down, and nothing. And this lasted the rest of the morning. Only drips would come out. Little grey drips. He would then walk around and meow. This lasted all morning and didn’t stop.

Around 10:00 I picked him up and flipped him over and rubbed his cheek and he closed his eyes and I cried. We stayed like that for what seemed like an hour. He purred and went to sleep. I wanted him to go then. Not at the vet. I wanted him to drift off in my arms, and just stop purring and breathing. But nothing is ever the way it should be. Nothing is ever easy. I figured it was time to wake up Jodi so she could hold him and say her good-byes. So I do what I do and snipped some fur off his tail for a locket. And woke up Jodi.

We talked it over and they close at noon on Saturdays so we decided and I called the vet. I knew he could have probably made it through the weekend. But if it turned into being painful I wouldn’t want him to go through that. I went and got dressed , I have all the shirts that I wore when I put the others down. I don’t know why I just do. I always think I'm going to make a shadow box with some reminders, but I always just have the shirt somewhere. So I looked for a shirt to never wear again. I looked at the shirts that I never choose. The ones that are torn and have paint on them. But I couldn’t pick one of those. I couldn’t pick something that I was already never going to wear again something I am going to throw away. I Picked my favorite shirt the one that I wear in pictures and the one I wear to get-togethers. The one that I don’t want to never wear again. Because it’s not fair and it shouldn’t be, it’s about loss. And love and it needs to be one that I didn’t want to loose. Then came down and took him while she get dressed. We went the back way to the vet.

At the vet, as he died Jodi said “night, night kitty” just as she has always said to him, as I would cradle him in my arms as I carried him off to bed. It was nice to hear, and I hope it was nice for him as he drifted off to sleep.

I’m not really a cat person. But I will miss that always talking, ice water drinking, peeing on the carpet, telling me it’s time to feed him NOW, peeing down the heater vent under the tv, nose kissing, treat loving, Protecting me from my CPAP, standing in his water-dish, litter eating, Red hating, clean laundry laying in the basket, non mouse catching, Stella snubbing, trying to trip me. only fish flavored catfood eating, jumping from the 3rd step on his way down, putting his face in anything I’m drinking, stealth going up the stairs, always purring, should have given him a better life. kid. I love you buddy.

Submitted March 13, 2016 at 02:33AM by rexsuede http://ift.tt/1RdU3wP Petloss

My heart really is heavy Petloss

On Friday, I had to make the decision to put my dear 18 year old boy, Lestat, to sleep. His quality of life had slowly been declining and on Friday he just couldn't breathe. I made the decision along with input from my fiance that it was time to put him down.

When I was 19 I decided to adopt a cat. I knew that I wanted an all black male kitten. He was the only one available for adoption and I changed his name to Lestat. While he was sweet during our initial meeting at the Humane Society, he showed his true colors when we got home and lived up to the name Lestat a bit too well. He grew to 20lbs and had strength that really couldn't be matched. He really was a mini-panther that could jump from the floor to the top of the refrigerator without a running start.

He might have been mean to and frightened other people, but he loved me. I still remember the first time I got an ear infection in college. I lived by myself and just sat on the couch, crying because it hurt so much. He came over, sat on the couch behind me, put his large paw on the top of my head, and just started purring. Whenever I was ill in any way, he wouldn't leave my side.

What am I going to do without him? He was more than just my cat, the closest I could come to naming him is that he was more like my familiar; he was part of me, and I feel so lost.

I've lost pets before, namely Lestat's companion, Louis, who I had for 10 years before he passed away last year. And, though it hurt to lose Louis, this is different. I am honestly lost. I have cried, but not as much as I did before, the grief is too deep.

I know it'll get better, it has to.

Submitted November 11, 2014 at 01:22AM by Damsell http://ift.tt/10ROJpX Petloss