Ripple... RIP.

[Red and White Zider]

People that have never had Pets just dont get it when one dies or you have to get them put to sleep and always seem to be light hearted about it and joke about. It really is devastating when they go, having been a part of the family they are like another relative. They respond to your ways and pick up habits.

When I lived in Torrington before I moved to Bristol 10 years ago I grew up with a Golden Retriever (my favourite breed of dog) called Misty and she although was a working gun dog was absolutely soft and gentle with people and wouldnt harm a fly when home and about and rarely barked too. She would sit outside shops without the need to be tied up, when you told her to sit and stay whilst I would go into the shop she would and not move a muscle. I always used to take her with me on my morning paper rounds to give her a walk and like all Retrievers seem to be she was a born scrounger (particularly loving toast) but loveable with it, I absolutely adored her. So when I moved to Bristol I did my first 2 months training for my Platform job and on the day I did my final rules and assessment sessions and passed them, I was of course elated to have passed my training. I switched my mobile on to recieve a voicemail from my sister Lou to say that same morning our Mum had come down the stairs to find Misty dead on her side at the bottom of the Garden steps where it appeared she had some kind of fit and had been frothing at the mouth, she was 11. My elation of passing my rules turned to utter devastation when discovering this news and wont mind admitting I left the station to go home in floods of tears. I had spent 10 years of my life since I was the age of 9 with this dog since she was aged 1, been on many walks and given her many pieces of my toast

Its been almost 10 years since Misty died but I do still think about her from time to time and if I ever get an opportunity to have a pet of my own then it will definitely be a Golden Retriever, they are such lovely dogs.

 

[Dobley]

Is it weird that the Op, despite being 4 years old, made me a tad emotional?

We had two cats a couple of years back, two sisters - fought like, erm, cats and cats, but oh werent they family?

They were an odd match. Patch was all mouth. Would hiss if disturbed from her slumber, wasnt comfortable in the arms of the family, and would only seldom deem to grace the presence of someone's lap. She would raise her hackles from behind the kitchen window at the neighbours cat invading our garden and hiss and spit for hours. Sandy by comparrison was as soppy a feline as you'd ever come across. Would happily be swept up and stay in your arms for as long as you cared hold her. And when you put her down, she would amble quite casually out to the food tray, partake in a poriton of Whiskers, and then mossey on back and select a suitable lap to park on. She would also - quite incredibly I thought - be the one that, whilst her sister sat at a distance essentially being a mouthy chav, wander without any theatre up to whatever happened to be in the garden, and proceed to smack it across the chops until the foreigner retreated at pace.

Patch liked to think she ruled the roost. She would barge Sandy out the way at feeding time, kick her out of a sleeping spot (often without any real or obvious motive), and sit on the inside of the cat flap stopping her from coming in. And yet Sandy would be the one to wander over to an under-the-weather Patch, snuggle up alongside her, and groom and clean her. Don't get me wrong, Patch wasnt an unloving creature, but Sandy was the one to show it.

When Sandy went it genuinely broke my heart to see Patch restlessly moving from one spot to the next, crying out, hunting out the old places where her sister used to hole up. The day that Sandy made a one way trip to the vet, Patch went from being a disinterested almost selfish cat to one on a constant mission. Although she lasted two years further, I really don't think she ever quite gave up hope; she would check behind the armchairs in the living room daily.

As an aside, aren't they amazing creatures? As I've said, Patch was an, *ahem* independent soul. Where Sandy was docile and happy to find human company, Patch was for ever doing her own thing - never really sought out attention from the family, never one to sit on a strangers lap, always in the quietest room in the house. I grew up with the pair for 14 years and can probably count on my fingers the amount of times Patch willing came and sat beside me, sat on my lap or snuggled in at my side whilst I was in bed. About 3 years before the fateful day, I did the whole growing up and moving out of home thing. Patch took it all in with a detatched indifference. My fleeting visits to my parents house were met with the a cursory glance, a knowing purr and flick of the tail as she stuck her head through the lounge door, and then she'd be off again, knowing my vacated bedroom was the pick of the rooms for peace and quiet.

One evening I popped around to my parent's house after work; it was a quick visit - I think I was blagging a free meal before going out. Patch, quite out of the blue, was all over me. Whereever I sat, she was on my lap; dinner table, sofa, wherever. She followed me outside into the drizzle for a cigarette, and followed me back in again, drying herself on my trouser legs before following me through the conservetory, through the kitchen and into the lounge, jumping onto my lap before I had even properly sat down. When I went to move, she give me one of those indignant looks only cats are capable of. When I picked her up to give her a cuddle, there was no desire to escape, no squirming or kicking. She just sat there. Although mildly amusing at the time, I actually found this unexpected interest tiresome and laborious after a long day at work and wishing to go out and get drunk.

How guilty do I feel now.

Less than 72 hours after visiting my parents house, I recieved a text from my mum saying Patch had fallen ill quite suddenly, and had subsequently made exactly the same journey across to St David's vets her sister had a few years previously.

That memory will stay with me forever.

 

[Dobley]

Sorry, long. Defence; alcohol.

 

[LammieLammieLammie]

Sorry, long. Defence; alcohol.

No apology needed.

Alcohol? Coping strategy.

Great post, as is RaWZ.

 

[ECFC Nursey!]

God its dusty in here!
I will never forget the day my mum phoned me to tell me our family cat had died - she was 21. We had her from a kitten. Mum was sooooo upset and buried Holly in the garden. The tree that we put there in her remeberence is still there now and I think of the mog every time i visit!

They truely are a member of the family!

 

[Stuffy]

Jack my border collie was put to sleep about four weeks ago. A large cyst came up on his chest and started to weep, then finally his back legs went. The look in his eyes told me he'd had enough.

Take on a pet you take on heartache.

 

[Grecian_In_Exile]

OK who's the bugger in here peeling onions then? :'(

Reminds me of our first ever family pet, Duke, Heinze variety, cross between labrador & spaniel, jet black & size of a spaniel. I used to take him everywhere with me, I was the only one who could walk him along without a lead, without him running off, I was about 4 when we got him as an 12 week old pup, we had to have him put to sleep 19 years later. I had already left home, but frequently went back, more to visit Duke than the parents lol It was on one of these such visits that I found him ill on the chair, he had messed (something he had not done since those puppy years, & had been sick, poor thing couldn't get up, he had, had a stroke, back legs were gone, & had gone blind, I cleared up the mess, which was surprising, as back then I had a very weak stomach for such things, but had to do it for Duke, before mum came home, we cried buckets when we came out of the vets without him.

 

[Ian Sideman]

Jeez...no more please. I can't deal with this on a monday morning.