Hiya from RL
Hello my dear friends,
RL things have kept me from LJ for quite a while. If you’ve got pets and no kids, maybe you can understand my state of mind.
Maybe you remember that the last time I posted I bragged off with all my pets - I remember how proud I was of my little zoo. Well, shortly after posting in May the nightmare started.
Toby, my dog, was already 17 years old, and his age started to tell. He was already deaf, but that was no problem, as we had taught him sign language at the age of 10. But suddenly he was behaving like someone demented - he forgot why he went to the kitchen, stood there for a long time, went back to the living room. That was at the beginning not startling. It was terrible when he repeated those walking tours about fifty times. There simply was no way to stop him.
When strolling through the woods, he lost his path, he suddenly went off, and from then on we had to put him on a leash (there hadn’t been a need for it for years). At nights he started whining, and the yelping sounded as if he was in fear. He could climb up the stairs, but couldn’t get down again, he jumped instead, stumbled and landed on his stomach with his four legs spread out. He woke up from sleep and searched frantically for us, absolute disorientated. And then, of course, he couldn’t keep his excrements any more.
Of course we were aware that dogs are lucky being about 15 years. So we expected signs like that for a long time. And of course we went to the vet. And she told us in June that “he was still looking fine, but when the time came, we would know.” So we waited for “the time”, gave him medics which didn’t work, and went on waiting. And hoping. And caring. And held him while he ate, cause his hind legs would no longer hold his weight.
Schnupp, one of my eight bunnies, always has been a weakling. But he managed several diseases with an energy that was simply astounding for such a small creature. And as he was the weakest and bravest, he was my favourite. I never wanted to feel like that, but I did. I loved him the most. Then his tear duct was stuffed (sp?), then he was littered by mite, and then, in July, he got head tilt. This diagnosis, for bunnies, is of course a sentence of death. But I, of course, couldn’t accept it, and he, brave as he was, couldn’t accept it, too. I took care of him every day, and he fought like a lion. Even as his hind legs were paralyzed he still tried to crawl towards me. But as long as he took food, there was hope. And I believed that his energy combined with my will power & care would make him one of those who survived.
Early October there were moments when I started to allow myself moments of weakness. And this was the best I could do. I cried my head off, wailed, bawled. I just sensed both wouldn’t make it. But still there was this special brightness in both of their eyes…
On Thursday, 11th October, hubby found Toby lying on his stomach in the entrance hall, his legs sprawled out, right in the middle of dried excrements. He must have lain there like this for at least one or two hours. He couldn’t get up by himself any more, hubby massaged his muscles for a long time to get him up again.
Schnupp was getting better, it was a miracle, his hind legs weren’t paralyzed any more, his head was straight.
On Friday, 12th October, Toby looked up at me. Call me an idiot, a pompous ass, hallucinating or whatever you want. But it happened exactly as the vet had said. When the time comes, you’ll know. It was time.
Schnupp was eating heartily.
On Saturday, 14th October, the vet told us that recently Toby had another seizure and gave him extra medics. We were supposed to return on Tuesday.
Schnupp was feeling fine.
On Monday, 15th October, I was searching the net for cremating services. I had already discussed euthanasia with the vet, and she had promised to do it at home. So I planned.
Schnupp was getting weaker, but I didn’t notice.
On Tuesday, 16th October, Toby broke down at the vet. She took one look at him and asked silently: Why not now? It took me several seconds to understand what she meant. My wonderful plan - all nonsense. No visit at home, in peace. She put him to sleep shortly after, hubby and me by his side, touching him, hugging him, helping him. And he went to sleep peacefully. He did. And then we took him home.
I can’t remember how Schnupp looked like this evening.
On Wednesday, 17th October, I took a day off. Toby was lying in a cool room, and I washed him. I spent a lot of time in this room this day. Now I know why it was a custom to have the dead at home in the old days. It helps to say goodbye at your own pace.
Again I can’t remember Schnupp.
On Thursday, 18th October, we buried Toby in our garden. 1,20 m deep with lots of stones on top to shield him from foxes.
Schnupp was weak, and I wondered if we hadn’t better left the grave open? But I was sure I was hallucinating, receiving another “look”. But he felt so weak in my arms…
On Tuesday, 23th October, Schnupp was put to death when I took him to the vet. He was afraid, as was I. But I stayed with him until he, like Toby one week before, went off to sleep.
On Wednesday, 24th October, I washed the tiny corpse. His kidneys had broken down, so he was looking a mess. And I was frantic that no pet of mine will cross the rainbow bridge filthy.
On Thursday, 25th October, I dug the grave for Schnupp myself, on top of Toby.
Since then two candles are glowing on the grave in our garden, sheltering their bodies with their light.
Maybe you think I’m exaggerating. Those just have been animals. Plain creatures. But not for me. Every creature has its right for a happy living.
I have no kids. My pets are my babies. But don’t get me wrong. My pets are treated as the animals they are, not as tiny humans. Those two have been a part of me. I loved them dearly, and they returned this love a thousand fold.
RL things have kept me from LJ for quite a while. If you’ve got pets and no kids, maybe you can understand my state of mind.
Maybe you remember that the last time I posted I bragged off with all my pets - I remember how proud I was of my little zoo. Well, shortly after posting in May the nightmare started.
Toby, my dog, was already 17 years old, and his age started to tell. He was already deaf, but that was no problem, as we had taught him sign language at the age of 10. But suddenly he was behaving like someone demented - he forgot why he went to the kitchen, stood there for a long time, went back to the living room. That was at the beginning not startling. It was terrible when he repeated those walking tours about fifty times. There simply was no way to stop him.
When strolling through the woods, he lost his path, he suddenly went off, and from then on we had to put him on a leash (there hadn’t been a need for it for years). At nights he started whining, and the yelping sounded as if he was in fear. He could climb up the stairs, but couldn’t get down again, he jumped instead, stumbled and landed on his stomach with his four legs spread out. He woke up from sleep and searched frantically for us, absolute disorientated. And then, of course, he couldn’t keep his excrements any more.
Of course we were aware that dogs are lucky being about 15 years. So we expected signs like that for a long time. And of course we went to the vet. And she told us in June that “he was still looking fine, but when the time came, we would know.” So we waited for “the time”, gave him medics which didn’t work, and went on waiting. And hoping. And caring. And held him while he ate, cause his hind legs would no longer hold his weight.
Schnupp, one of my eight bunnies, always has been a weakling. But he managed several diseases with an energy that was simply astounding for such a small creature. And as he was the weakest and bravest, he was my favourite. I never wanted to feel like that, but I did. I loved him the most. Then his tear duct was stuffed (sp?), then he was littered by mite, and then, in July, he got head tilt. This diagnosis, for bunnies, is of course a sentence of death. But I, of course, couldn’t accept it, and he, brave as he was, couldn’t accept it, too. I took care of him every day, and he fought like a lion. Even as his hind legs were paralyzed he still tried to crawl towards me. But as long as he took food, there was hope. And I believed that his energy combined with my will power & care would make him one of those who survived.
Early October there were moments when I started to allow myself moments of weakness. And this was the best I could do. I cried my head off, wailed, bawled. I just sensed both wouldn’t make it. But still there was this special brightness in both of their eyes…
On Thursday, 11th October, hubby found Toby lying on his stomach in the entrance hall, his legs sprawled out, right in the middle of dried excrements. He must have lain there like this for at least one or two hours. He couldn’t get up by himself any more, hubby massaged his muscles for a long time to get him up again.
Schnupp was getting better, it was a miracle, his hind legs weren’t paralyzed any more, his head was straight.
On Friday, 12th October, Toby looked up at me. Call me an idiot, a pompous ass, hallucinating or whatever you want. But it happened exactly as the vet had said. When the time comes, you’ll know. It was time.
Schnupp was eating heartily.
On Saturday, 14th October, the vet told us that recently Toby had another seizure and gave him extra medics. We were supposed to return on Tuesday.
Schnupp was feeling fine.
On Monday, 15th October, I was searching the net for cremating services. I had already discussed euthanasia with the vet, and she had promised to do it at home. So I planned.
Schnupp was getting weaker, but I didn’t notice.
On Tuesday, 16th October, Toby broke down at the vet. She took one look at him and asked silently: Why not now? It took me several seconds to understand what she meant. My wonderful plan - all nonsense. No visit at home, in peace. She put him to sleep shortly after, hubby and me by his side, touching him, hugging him, helping him. And he went to sleep peacefully. He did. And then we took him home.
I can’t remember how Schnupp looked like this evening.
On Wednesday, 17th October, I took a day off. Toby was lying in a cool room, and I washed him. I spent a lot of time in this room this day. Now I know why it was a custom to have the dead at home in the old days. It helps to say goodbye at your own pace.
Again I can’t remember Schnupp.
On Thursday, 18th October, we buried Toby in our garden. 1,20 m deep with lots of stones on top to shield him from foxes.
Schnupp was weak, and I wondered if we hadn’t better left the grave open? But I was sure I was hallucinating, receiving another “look”. But he felt so weak in my arms…
On Tuesday, 23th October, Schnupp was put to death when I took him to the vet. He was afraid, as was I. But I stayed with him until he, like Toby one week before, went off to sleep.
On Wednesday, 24th October, I washed the tiny corpse. His kidneys had broken down, so he was looking a mess. And I was frantic that no pet of mine will cross the rainbow bridge filthy.
On Thursday, 25th October, I dug the grave for Schnupp myself, on top of Toby.
Since then two candles are glowing on the grave in our garden, sheltering their bodies with their light.
Maybe you think I’m exaggerating. Those just have been animals. Plain creatures. But not for me. Every creature has its right for a happy living.
I have no kids. My pets are my babies. But don’t get me wrong. My pets are treated as the animals they are, not as tiny humans. Those two have been a part of me. I loved them dearly, and they returned this love a thousand fold.