#petdeath — Public Fediverse posts

Farewell, Choco — Lee Min Ho’s beloved dog passes after 16 years of loyal companionship.

#LeeMinHo #Choco #PetDeath #KoreanActor #DogTribute #OmniscientReader #TheProhecy #PetLoss #ActorNews #KDrama #Condolences

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday, I finally said goodbye to my beloved friend and Emotional Support Animal, Bella. The in-home euthanasia service was lovely, and she went quietly with her favorite people petting her while comfortably at home. I want to thank everyone who contributed to my Go-FundMe for that expense again. Without all your help I would not have been able to give her as comfortable a send-off as she had. I meant to write about her yesterday, but by the time I got back from burying her beside her mom in my ex’s pet cemetery, I was too exhausted to function. But I want to tell you all about her, and let her memory live on, for she was the best girl anyone could ask for.

The first animal my now ex-husband and I got together was a pure-bred German Shepherd we named Holly, barely a month before I became pregnant with my son. We raised her, then bred her after a suitable period of time with my in-laws’ purebred male dog, Max. We wanted a puppy out of Max, as he was one of the best dogs. Holly gave birth to 6 live puppies, of which Bella was one. My hands were the first to ever touch her, and some of the last as well. She was mine from start to finish.

We didn’t always plan to keep Bella. We had picked out one of her sisters who was perky and playful and seemed good-tempered. But as the puppies grew, and we began noticing things about them individually, we noticed one who hung back. Who was afraid of all the humans, who hid, whose ears lowered and tail drooped at the slightest provocation. And we realized, this anxious, scared little dog, could not be sent out to some other family who might expect her to be the Fierce German Shepherd, and separate her from the people she had slowly learned to trust and her mother. So, we kept her and named her Bella.

We soon realized that Bella had other difficulties besides anxiety, specifically very severe skin allergies. She was allergic to the flora in the state in which she’d been born. But we loved her anyways, and it soon became apparent that she understood how to comfort me when I was experiencing mental illness episodes. During one complete breakdown she stayed in bed with me, cuddling me and giving me the support and unconditional love I needed in that time.

But as much as Bella was my dog, she was also my son’s. The Teen was a year and a half old when Bella was born, and they were raised side-by-side. My son had no siblings, so he played with Bella endlessly. The one human in the whole world she wasn’t even a little afraid of was The Teen. She treated him like a litter-mate, and he to this day believes in his heart of hearts that he is a dog. They were companions most of their lives, and The Teen was here at the end, sitting beside her and petting her ears as she drifted off to her final sleep.

Now, my apartment feels empty without Bella, despite the two cats and a turtle who remain to keep me company. Her things are still scattered about, food and water in her bowls, her bed at the foot of mine. I haven’t had a chance to clear them out and trash what can’t be saved and find new homes for the things that can. So I keep expecting her to approach me where I sit on the couch and ask for pets or to go out and go potty. I feel like I’m forgetting to do something when I get home and don’t immediately have to take her out to potty, or when I go to bed without first taking her out. But there is also relief. Relief from the strain taking care of her was putting on me, financially and physically, and relief from the guilt of seeing her struggle and not being able to do more to make her more comfortable. Of course, a little guilt remains, that I could have petted her more before the end, done more to make her last days comfortable. But now that she’s gone peacefully, that guilt has abated a bit. Mostly what is left is a sense of peace that she had a good life, the best life we could give her, and she knew she was loved until the very end.

The cats are keeping me company, and I’m not despondent. But I miss her, with her soft ears and understanding eyes. I’ll probably never own another dog, my body unable to keep up with the demands of caring for a dog, but even if I do, I’ll never get another one as special as Bella. Truly, she was the goodest and prettiest girl, forever in my heart. 🐕💚

#aboutMe #death #dogPictures #dogs #petDeath #pets

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday, I finally said goodbye to my beloved friend and Emotional Support Animal, Bella. The in-home euthanasia service was lovely, and she went quietly with her favorite people petting her while comfortably at home. I want to thank everyone who contributed to my Go-FundMe for that expense again. Without all your help I would not have been able to give her as comfortable a send-off as she had. I meant to write about her yesterday, but by the time I got back from burying her beside her mom in my ex’s pet cemetery, I was too exhausted to function. But I want to tell you all about her, and let her memory live on, for she was the best girl anyone could ask for.

The first animal my now ex-husband and I got together was a pure-bred German Shepherd we named Holly, barely a month before I became pregnant with my son. We raised her, then bred her after a suitable period of time with my in-laws’ purebred male dog, Max. We wanted a puppy out of Max, as he was one of the best dogs. Holly gave birth to 6 live puppies, of which Bella was one. My hands were the first to ever touch her, and some of the last as well. She was mine from start to finish.

We didn’t always plan to keep Bella. We had picked out one of her sisters who was perky and playful and seemed good-tempered. But as the puppies grew, and we began noticing things about them individually, we noticed one who hung back. Who was afraid of all the humans, who hid, whose ears lowered and tail drooped at the slightest provocation. And we realized, this anxious, scared little dog, could not be sent out to some other family who might expect her to be the Fierce German Shepherd, and separate her from the people she had slowly learned to trust and her mother. So, we kept her and named her Bella.

We soon realized that Bella had other difficulties besides anxiety, specifically very severe skin allergies. She was allergic to the flora in the state in which she’d been born. But we loved her anyways, and it soon became apparent that she understood how to comfort me when I was experiencing mental illness episodes. During one complete breakdown she stayed in bed with me, cuddling me and giving me the support and unconditional love I needed in that time.

But as much as Bella was my dog, she was also my son’s. The Teen was a year and a half old when Bella was born, and they were raised side-by-side. My son had no siblings, so he played with Bella endlessly. The one human in the whole world she wasn’t even a little afraid of was The Teen. She treated him like a litter-mate, and he to this day believes in his heart of hearts that he is a dog. They were companions most of their lives, and The Teen was here at the end, sitting beside her and petting her ears as she drifted off to her final sleep.

Now, my apartment feels empty without Bella, despite the two cats and a turtle who remain to keep me company. Her things are still scattered about, food and water in her bowls, her bed at the foot of mine. I haven’t had a chance to clear them out and trash what can’t be saved and find new homes for the things that can. So I keep expecting her to approach me where I sit on the couch and ask for pets or to go out and go potty. I feel like I’m forgetting to do something when I get home and don’t immediately have to take her out to potty, or when I go to bed without first taking her out. But there is also relief. Relief from the strain taking care of her was putting on me, financially and physically, and relief from the guilt of seeing her struggle and not being able to do more to make her more comfortable. Of course, a little guilt remains, that I could have petted her more before the end, done more to make her last days comfortable. But now that she’s gone peacefully, that guilt has abated a bit. Mostly what is left is a sense of peace that she had a good life, the best life we could give her, and she knew she was loved until the very end.

The cats are keeping me company, and I’m not despondent. But I miss her, with her soft ears and understanding eyes. I’ll probably never own another dog, my body unable to keep up with the demands of caring for a dog, but even if I do, I’ll never get another one as special as Bella. Truly, she was the goodest and prettiest girl, forever in my heart. 🐕💚

#aboutMe #death #dogPictures #dogs #petDeath #pets

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday, I finally said goodbye to my beloved friend and Emotional Support Animal, Bella. The in-home euthanasia service was lovely, and she went quietly with her favorite people petting her while comfortably at home. I want to thank everyone who contributed to my Go-FundMe for that expense again. Without all your help I would not have been able to give her as comfortable a send-off as she had. I meant to write about her yesterday, but by the time I got back from burying her beside her mom in my ex’s pet cemetery, I was too exhausted to function. But I want to tell you all about her, and let her memory live on, for she was the best girl anyone could ask for.

The first animal my now ex-husband and I got together was a pure-bred German Shepherd we named Holly, barely a month before I became pregnant with my son. We raised her, then bred her after a suitable period of time with my in-laws’ purebred male dog, Max. We wanted a puppy out of Max, as he was one of the best dogs. Holly gave birth to 6 live puppies, of which Bella was one. My hands were the first to ever touch her, and some of the last as well. She was mine from start to finish.

We didn’t always plan to keep Bella. We had picked out one of her sisters who was perky and playful and seemed good-tempered. But as the puppies grew, and we began noticing things about them individually, we noticed one who hung back. Who was afraid of all the humans, who hid, whose ears lowered and tail drooped at the slightest provocation. And we realized, this anxious, scared little dog, could not be sent out to some other family who might expect her to be the Fierce German Shepherd, and separate her from the people she had slowly learned to trust and her mother. So, we kept her and named her Bella.

We soon realized that Bella had other difficulties besides anxiety, specifically very severe skin allergies. She was allergic to the flora in the state in which she’d been born. But we loved her anyways, and it soon became apparent that she understood how to comfort me when I was experiencing mental illness episodes. During one complete breakdown she stayed in bed with me, cuddling me and giving me the support and unconditional love I needed in that time.

But as much as Bella was my dog, she was also my son’s. The Teen was a year and a half old when Bella was born, and they were raised side-by-side. My son had no siblings, so he played with Bella endlessly. The one human in the whole world she wasn’t even a little afraid of was The Teen. She treated him like a litter-mate, and he to this day believes in his heart of hearts that he is a dog. They were companions most of their lives, and The Teen was here at the end, sitting beside her and petting her ears as she drifted off to her final sleep.

Now, my apartment feels empty without Bella, despite the two cats and a turtle who remain to keep me company. Her things are still scattered about, food and water in her bowls, her bed at the foot of mine. I haven’t had a chance to clear them out and trash what can’t be saved and find new homes for the things that can. So I keep expecting her to approach me where I sit on the couch and ask for pets or to go out and go potty. I feel like I’m forgetting to do something when I get home and don’t immediately have to take her out to potty, or when I go to bed without first taking her out. But there is also relief. Relief from the strain taking care of her was putting on me, financially and physically, and relief from the guilt of seeing her struggle and not being able to do more to make her more comfortable. Of course, a little guilt remains, that I could have petted her more before the end, done more to make her last days comfortable. But now that she’s gone peacefully, that guilt has abated a bit. Mostly what is left is a sense of peace that she had a good life, the best life we could give her, and she knew she was loved until the very end.

The cats are keeping me company, and I’m not despondent. But I miss her, with her soft ears and understanding eyes. I’ll probably never own another dog, my body unable to keep up with the demands of caring for a dog, but even if I do, I’ll never get another one as special as Bella. Truly, she was the goodest and prettiest girl, forever in my heart. 🐕💚

#aboutMe #death #dogPictures #dogs #petDeath #pets

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday, I finally said goodbye to my beloved friend and Emotional Support Animal, Bella. The in-home euthanasia service was lovely, and she went quietly with her favorite people petting her while comfortably at home. I want to thank everyone who contributed to my Go-FundMe for that expense again. Without all your help I would not have been able to give her as comfortable a send-off as she had. I meant to write about her yesterday, but by the time I got back from burying her beside her mom in my ex’s pet cemetery, I was too exhausted to function. But I want to tell you all about her, and let her memory live on, for she was the best girl anyone could ask for.

The first animal my now ex-husband and I got together was a pure-bred German Shepherd we named Holly, barely a month before I became pregnant with my son. We raised her, then bred her after a suitable period of time with my in-laws’ purebred male dog, Max. We wanted a puppy out of Max, as he was one of the best dogs. Holly gave birth to 6 live puppies, of which Bella was one. My hands were the first to ever touch her, and some of the last as well. She was mine from start to finish.

We didn’t always plan to keep Bella. We had picked out one of her sisters who was perky and playful and seemed good-tempered. But as the puppies grew, and we began noticing things about them individually, we noticed one who hung back. Who was afraid of all the humans, who hid, whose ears lowered and tail drooped at the slightest provocation. And we realized, this anxious, scared little dog, could not be sent out to some other family who might expect her to be the Fierce German Shepherd, and separate her from the people she had slowly learned to trust and her mother. So, we kept her and named her Bella.

We soon realized that Bella had other difficulties besides anxiety, specifically very severe skin allergies. She was allergic to the flora in the state in which she’d been born. But we loved her anyways, and it soon became apparent that she understood how to comfort me when I was experiencing mental illness episodes. During one complete breakdown she stayed in bed with me, cuddling me and giving me the support and unconditional love I needed in that time.

But as much as Bella was my dog, she was also my son’s. The Teen was a year and a half old when Bella was born, and they were raised side-by-side. My son had no siblings, so he played with Bella endlessly. The one human in the whole world she wasn’t even a little afraid of was The Teen. She treated him like a litter-mate, and he to this day believes in his heart of hearts that he is a dog. They were companions most of their lives, and The Teen was here at the end, sitting beside her and petting her ears as she drifted off to her final sleep.

Now, my apartment feels empty without Bella, despite the two cats and a turtle who remain to keep me company. Her things are still scattered about, food and water in her bowls, her bed at the foot of mine. I haven’t had a chance to clear them out and trash what can’t be saved and find new homes for the things that can. So I keep expecting her to approach me where I sit on the couch and ask for pets or to go out and go potty. I feel like I’m forgetting to do something when I get home and don’t immediately have to take her out to potty, or when I go to bed without first taking her out. But there is also relief. Relief from the strain taking care of her was putting on me, financially and physically, and relief from the guilt of seeing her struggle and not being able to do more to make her more comfortable. Of course, a little guilt remains, that I could have petted her more before the end, done more to make her last days comfortable. But now that she’s gone peacefully, that guilt has abated a bit. Mostly what is left is a sense of peace that she had a good life, the best life we could give her, and she knew she was loved until the very end.

The cats are keeping me company, and I’m not despondent. But I miss her, with her soft ears and understanding eyes. I’ll probably never own another dog, my body unable to keep up with the demands of caring for a dog, but even if I do, I’ll never get another one as special as Bella. Truly, she was the goodest and prettiest girl, forever in my heart. 🐕💚

#aboutMe #death #dogPictures #dogs #petDeath #pets

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday, I finally said goodbye to my beloved friend and Emotional Support Animal, Bella. The in-home euthanasia service was lovely, and she went quietly with her favorite people petting her while comfortably at home. I want to thank everyone who contributed to my Go-FundMe for that expense again. Without all your help I would not have been able to give her as comfortable a send-off as she had. I meant to write about her yesterday, but by the time I got back from burying her beside her mom in my ex’s pet cemetery, I was too exhausted to function. But I want to tell you all about her, and let her memory live on, for she was the best girl anyone could ask for.

The first animal my now ex-husband and I got together was a pure-bred German Shepherd we named Holly, barely a month before I became pregnant with my son. We raised her, then bred her after a suitable period of time with my in-laws’ purebred male dog, Max. We wanted a puppy out of Max, as he was one of the best dogs. Holly gave birth to 6 live puppies, of which Bella was one. My hands were the first to ever touch her, and some of the last as well. She was mine from start to finish.

We didn’t always plan to keep Bella. We had picked out one of her sisters who was perky and playful and seemed good-tempered. But as the puppies grew, and we began noticing things about them individually, we noticed one who hung back. Who was afraid of all the humans, who hid, whose ears lowered and tail drooped at the slightest provocation. And we realized, this anxious, scared little dog, could not be sent out to some other family who might expect her to be the Fierce German Shepherd, and separate her from the people she had slowly learned to trust and her mother. So, we kept her and named her Bella.

We soon realized that Bella had other difficulties besides anxiety, specifically very severe skin allergies. She was allergic to the flora in the state in which she’d been born. But we loved her anyways, and it soon became apparent that she understood how to comfort me when I was experiencing mental illness episodes. During one complete breakdown she stayed in bed with me, cuddling me and giving me the support and unconditional love I needed in that time.

But as much as Bella was my dog, she was also my son’s. The Teen was a year and a half old when Bella was born, and they were raised side-by-side. My son had no siblings, so he played with Bella endlessly. The one human in the whole world she wasn’t even a little afraid of was The Teen. She treated him like a litter-mate, and he to this day believes in his heart of hearts that he is a dog. They were companions most of their lives, and The Teen was here at the end, sitting beside her and petting her ears as she drifted off to her final sleep.

Now, my apartment feels empty without Bella, despite the two cats and a turtle who remain to keep me company. Her things are still scattered about, food and water in her bowls, her bed at the foot of mine. I haven’t had a chance to clear them out and trash what can’t be saved and find new homes for the things that can. So I keep expecting her to approach me where I sit on the couch and ask for pets or to go out and go potty. I feel like I’m forgetting to do something when I get home and don’t immediately have to take her out to potty, or when I go to bed without first taking her out. But there is also relief. Relief from the strain taking care of her was putting on me, financially and physically, and relief from the guilt of seeing her struggle and not being able to do more to make her more comfortable. Of course, a little guilt remains, that I could have petted her more before the end, done more to make her last days comfortable. But now that she’s gone peacefully, that guilt has abated a bit. Mostly what is left is a sense of peace that she had a good life, the best life we could give her, and she knew she was loved until the very end.

The cats are keeping me company, and I’m not despondent. But I miss her, with her soft ears and understanding eyes. I’ll probably never own another dog, my body unable to keep up with the demands of caring for a dog, but even if I do, I’ll never get another one as special as Bella. Truly, she was the goodest and prettiest girl, forever in my heart. 🐕💚

#aboutMe #death #dogPictures #dogs #petDeath #pets

Hey, universe.

Playing that particular Sarah McLachlan song just as I step into the store the evening after I had to say goodbye to my sick kitty? Thus causing me to turn and run out to get back to my car before I have a complete hiccup-crying snot-full breakdown?

Not remotely cool. Quit that shit.

#catsOfFedi #petDeath

Hey, universe.

Playing that particular Sarah McLachlan song just as I step into the store the evening after I had to say goodbye to my sick kitty? Thus causing me to turn and run out to get back to my car before I have a complete hiccup-crying snot-full breakdown?

Not remotely cool. Quit that shit.

#catsOfFedi #petDeath

Hey, universe.

Playing that particular Sarah McLachlan song just as I step into the store the evening after I had to say goodbye to my sick kitty? Thus causing me to turn and run out to get back to my car before I have a complete hiccup-crying snot-full breakdown?

Not remotely cool. Quit that shit.

#catsOfFedi #petDeath

Hey, universe.

Playing that particular Sarah McLachlan song just as I step into the store the evening after I had to say goodbye to my sick kitty? Thus causing me to turn and run out to get back to my car before I have a complete hiccup-crying snot-full breakdown?

Not remotely cool. Quit that shit.

#catsOfFedi #petDeath

Hey, universe.

Playing that particular Sarah McLachlan song just as I step into the store the evening after I had to say goodbye to my sick kitty? Thus causing me to turn and run out to get back to my car before I have a complete hiccup-crying snot-full breakdown?

Not remotely cool. Quit that shit.

#catsOfFedi #petDeath