Pet Loss Help

Flynn Franklin Jones Scott was the biggest ball of fluff in the world. He was always smiling and ready for a good time. He was an excellent boy and would stay with you off-leash from day one! He was quite a charmer with those stunning good looks and a peaceful personality. 

Even though it was a bit naughty, it always made me laugh when he played the role of a lightning-quick "sneaky ninja food bandit!" (Who could blame a guy with great taste in treats and a grumbly stomach?) He excelled at this trick!

Flynn shared my birthday and I called him my "birthday baby" or "birthday twin." What an amazing gift - the gift of unconditional love! His "gotcha day" was on my son's birthday - so there was a universal and serendipitous connection from day one.

Flynn (Flynn flan, Flynnie, Floofers, Fwin Fwanklin) was loved and adored by his two human siblings, his mommy, and his fur siblings alike. Friends and even strangers were unable to resist his boyish charms, his willingness to shake hands, and his never-ending happy tail wag!

His sweet demeanor and love will always remain in our hearts. The lack of Flynn's full-body snuggles will always be missed. Oh boy, when he snuggled! 50 pounds of body slammin' lovin' served up hot! The time wasn't nearly long enough with the sweet angel due to his congenital health issue. But the love he left behind will carry us until we meet him at the rainbow bridge. Fly high floofy boy and get all the heaven burgers you can handle!

17 Dec 2020 - 8 Feb 2022

Tiny came to my life one afternoon in October of 2002.  My mom brought him home as a gift for my eight-year-old niece. When I saw the dog I said no, absolutely not, we were already hiding a cat from the landlord and dogs as we all know are louder than cats and very difficult to hide.  Since my mom was (may she rest in peace) as stubborn as they come, insisted “the dog stays”.  I was sure I was going to get rid of it the next morning somehow; but of course I fell in love with him that same night thanks to my niece Pebbles bringing him into my room to sleep with us and who named him Tiny (eight-year-old who didn’t realize he would grow a bit).  The next day I came home with all sorts of goodies for him; collars, leash, bowls, toys, treats, food everything and anything.  From that moment on he became my little baby.

 I had a relationship with him like no other, he was my SON a person I loved and cared for deeply.  I looked after his every need.  In 2003 I moved out to my own place so it was just me and him, and my niece Pebbles of course, she was his second Mom and stayed with us on weekends.  My Tiny was the man of the house, everything I did revolved around him.  I would get home and let him out and cook his homemade chicken breast, because he didn’t particularly care for dog food.  I spoiled him terribly.  He had ownership of every corner of the house.  He slept in my bed and was allowed on all surfaces, couch, lazy boy which ever corner he preferred.  He was also very fond of marking his territory and Mommy was okay with it LOL.  I loved that he was always attentive of me, he loved to be carried around and welcomed all kind of shows of affection. 

 Tiny was with me for many hard moments in my life; he was there when I lost my mom in 2007 comforting me.  Always laid in bed next to me reminding me that I was not alone that he was there to give me warmth and comfort.  We shared a special relationship.  He knew when he saw me crying, to come lick my tears away and remind me that no matter what I was going through or who broke my heart that I always had his unconditional love. If I went out I always ran home as early as possible because I knew he was waiting for me eagerly to go out and do his business and then be with me until we both fell asleep cuddled in bed – yes, we cuddled – and watched TV together.

 I enjoyed seeing him grow up, he went from my little Tiny – a very fast paced and bubbly speedy Gonzalez type of dog – to my slow can’t walk anymore senior dog.  When he was 12 years old he hurt his back jumping off the bed (since he has short legs) I took him to the vet and I was shocked to know that dogs generally live 12-13 years depending on the breed. The doctor said it was common for dogs to hurt their backs at that age because they are seniors and that I should make sure he didn’t jump off the bed so he could heal.  So for six months I slept on the floor so he didn’t get hurt trying to get on the bed with me. Thankfully he got better.  Unfortunately, he continued to age and when he was 14 years old his back got hurt again.  I got him stairs which he used for a bit but even that got hard for him so eventually he just stopped trying to get on the bed all together.   As days and months went by it took a toll on my poor baby. I eventually took him back to the vet who said it was time to let him go.   Sadly, and terribly hard for me and Pebbles on July 16, 2018 we had to say good bye to my baby.

It was by far the hardest thing I have ever had to do; I still can’t recover from it.  Once he was put to sleep they brought me in and I kissed him goodbye.  He looked so peaceful and rested that it brought me comfort to know I had finally after 16 years allowed him to rest in peace.  My older sister paid for a private cremation and I got his remains.  It hurts so much to not have him.  My therapist says I need to grieve but it is so painful.  My heart is broken and I want him back.  I want him back because he is and will always be my forever love, my son, a little piece of me.  It is almost three months now and I have not been able to get rid of his bed, his bowls and his blanket.  I actually have the blanket on my bed rolled up right in between my pillows.  Still now as I jot down this immortalization of my beautiful Tiny I am holding back the tears, and feeling such a burning pain in my chest.  I feel his absence in everything I do; when I leave work and don’t have him to rush home to, when its raining and I don’t have to worry he will get wet outside when let him out.  I miss him following me all over the house, him wanting me to give him a taste of whatever it is I’m eating.  Every corner of my house is a constant reminder that HE is not here.  He filled so much in my life. He was my most faithful companion.  I honestly loved him more than I love many of my family members.

 Tiny my beautiful love, MOMMY misses you, and wishes she could hold you like she did so many times, but yet still needs to hold and kiss you EVEN more.  I will never get over not being able to hold you and more importantly, I will never be able to fill your absence.  Papi, you leave an empty place in my heart.  I hope that maybe one day, it can be filled of the happy memories of our time shared together.

 Love you always and forever.

After our previous cat Smokey was euthanized in 2013 at the age of almost 20 we swore we could never go through the grief again.

However fast forward to July 2014 and a neighbour alerted us to a story of 2 cats (2 years old brother and sister) who needed rescued as the owner had addiction issues and was no longer living at home. As cats protection were full and the poor things were booked in to be put to sleep we had to step in. And so arrived Missy and Smudge. Despite their less than ideal start to life you could not have dreamed of a more adorable, affectionate and loving pair of cats. Both identical, except Missy a bit smaller than Smudge. Smudge had a left front white sock, Missy had the right sock !

Soon after moving in Smudge's wonderful affectionate character became apparent. Very much a sleeper during the day he would roll on his tummy for a cuddle any time you passed whatever bed, box, chair or other weird and wonderful place he had chosen to sleep that day ! So cool and laid back, never a hiss or scratch. Just took everything in his stride. Occasional boisterous playing with his little sister but always the best of friends together, sometimes sleeping on our bed with my wife and I, leaving us little room. We didn't care !  As we live at the end of a very quiet single track road with maybe 2 or 3 cars a night passing, we let Missy and Smudge go out and do their thing, albeit always anxious when they were out and looking for them if they were the slightest bit late. LED collars with long strips of reflective tape always fitted at night for maximum visibility to cars. Some bells had to soon be added to Smudge's as he was very keen to pay his keep bringing home mice, rats, rabbits and other weird and wonderful presents ! The bells helped a bit but he was still a rascal for catching things and wanting extra big cuddles when he brought them. He was very much a night owl, going out for 4 hour stints and knocking the window to get back in. Many a night of broken sleep I had letting him in and out not that I minded. If you ignored him he could actually push up the window handles, put his weight against the window, open it and let himself out ! So clever ! Later on we had a GPS collar on him sometimes and he covered an astonishing distance on his night time adventures !

We loved his naughtiness and placidness at the same time. I tell no lie when I say he would never hiss or be nasty no matter what you did to him. Just an angel. At the beginning of this year we took Sammy in, a poor neglected stray who turned out FIV + when we had him health checked, so he was kept separate from Missy and Smudge within the house. This didn't phase Smudge at all he just got on with doing his thing. Every day we told them all how much we loved them and often said to each other how lucky we were to have such adorable cats in our lives and how we couldn't bear to think of the day they'd be gone. No need to worry now though, that day was at least 14 or 15 years away. After all, Smokey was nearly 20 when his health failed and we had to let him go....

On the 28th of August 2017, a day that will forever remain etched in my memory, everything changed. I work offshore on oil rigs and at half past midnight on the 29th my wife sent a whatsapp message that Smudge had been out since 18.30 and hadn't returned. I knew straight away it was bad - he always did 4 hour stints maximum. After a sleepless night hoping for the message to come saying he was home - it never came. I made arrangements to head home that morning as I was in no fit state to be working. Meanwhile my wife, family and friends searched for Smudge, hoping against hope that he had just got locked in someone's garage and would soon appear. At around midday as I was just packing my bag awaiting my helicopter transit back to the beach, I got the message from my wife that  Smudge's body had been found in the grass just about 10 feet off the road, right across the road from our house. Not a mark on him, but obviously run over by a driver who didn't stop.

So followed the worst day of my life, travelling home in a state of shock and grief I cannot describe. I finally arrived home on the morning of the 30th and my wife and I spent the day lying beside and clinging to Smudge's lifeless but beautiful body before burying him in the garden that evening. What followed and has still not abated as I write at the end of October was sorrow beyond description. Guilt and regret saying 'if only we hadn't let him out that evening / if only he'd crossed the road a minute sooner etc. etc. He must have crossed that road without incident thousands of times in the 3 years and a month we were lucky enough to have him, but whatever happened that night, his luck ran out and as the driver didn't stop, we will never know exactly what happened.

I torture myself trying to work out exactly what might have happened, feel grief and guilt that I was away from home for the last 2 weeks of his life. Every time we look at the hundreds of photos we have of him it just breaks our hearts and we cry. This has just utterly crushed us. I cannot put it into words how much we miss him. We have to just try to adjust and be strong for our other adorable cats as I cannot see at the moment how one 'gets over' this. It's so strange that even with the other cats around, the house seems so eerily quiet without Smudge's presence. I'm self employed and couldn't face work for nearly 2 months after Smudge's passing. Now back at work offshore for the first time since, Smudge still dominates my every thought. When busy it goes away for a while sometimes, but then hits like a knife in the heart. It is helpful to talk about this on here as so few people understand how you can feel this way about a pet - they just don't get it.

We were so lucky to have our darling boy for the time we did, albeit so very short. And we will miss his affection and cuddles forever. Rest in peace beautiful Smudge until we meet again xx.

Chester Bighead, CGC, TT

2004 - 2018

Beloved Family Member and Teacher

Chester came into our lives in the fall of 2004 when Cydney Cross who was then working at Mohawk Hudson Humane Society asked if we would consider fostering a severely demodectic pitbull puppy.  The puppy had a large head on a very thin body and virtually no hair.  After Dr. Amy Plavin witnessed the introductions between our Honeydew and the puppy, one lick and it was a go.  We adopted him soon after and he physically grew into a stunning brindle dog thanks to the veterinary help of Dr. Plavin and Dr. Carrie O’Loughlin.  Behaviorally, he was more of a challenge.  I am grateful for the guidance of Kristin Vanderpool, Chris Danker and Pat Miller who led me from a path of harsh corrections to one of kind communication.  It paid off – we competed for five years in the agility ring and while we were not stars – mainly due to my poor handling skills – we had fun.  I will especially remember the pairs class we did at the Saratoga USDAA with Bonnie Kelleher and Mighty Joe. 

As Chester aged and had two TPLOs, he retired from the competitive life to continue to enjoy playing with Paul and his Cuz, hiking around the property, attacking his tire, laying in the grass and playing tug with Helen of Troy.

But over the last few weeks, despite the great therapeutic care he received from Dr. Kristin Gundersen and staff, his age caught up with him and Chester could no longer walk without assistance.  A large mass was found in his spleen.  We elected to make his last days as comfortable as possible and Paul and I learned how much closer we could get to our boy.  Today, with the kind assistance of Dr. O’Loughlin - who saw Chester successfully through several serious crises including the hay in the gut episode - and Kathy, we let our boy go.

I am grateful for the wonderful memories that we have recorded in pictures (thank you Barry Rosen, Heather Bohm-Tallman and Dieter Gehring), artwork by Neil McClain and Ann Watkins, a gorgeous pin likeness of him by Elaine Bloom, a pendant by Cindy Crounse, and a book by Julia Szabo.  I am grateful to Cydney, Barb Nizinkirk and other staff at MHHS for saving him.  I am grateful to the wonderful women at Fitter Critters and Alden Beane at True Balance Animal Wellness for their physical therapy skills that definitely enhanced Chester’s life.  Thanks also to Barbara Hollis who welcomed Chester for his stint being a therapy dog.  Thank you to the staff at my old job who welcomed puppy Chester especially Nick, Molly, Maria  Jeanne, and Ed.  I remember fondly the hours we spent at Mahogany Ridge – particularly with the late Irene Derreberry in her freestyle class dancing together to My Guy.

I am grateful to Mary of Oak Hill Grooming for her tender and patient pedicures; Dr. Tanya Holonko who alleviated Chester’s upper g.i. issues; to his many human friends who always elicited his smile – among them Mary Gleason, Kevin and Melissa McGrath, Mark and Missy Frey, Deb Ferguson and Frank Murphy, Susan Veach, Stephen and Susan  Stone, and Traci Landauer.  Thank you also to Trish Marciano and more recently Kelsie Krein for their excellent care when we were away.

I decided to name Chester after my beloved late brother and consulted with Leslie Rosenberg before I went public with that name – she advised, “based on the love, respect and care you give your dogs, no one will be offended.”  I think she was right.

Most of all, I am thankful to my husband Paul who loved Chester as much if not more and for the sweetest boy who gave us 13 ½ years.

March 26, 2018

Strength ,dynamism , adaptation, those are the words and qualities that come to my mind when I think about my Simba, a lion disguised as a cat that I was blessed to have with me for almost 4 years; to me Simba was more than just a companion, to me he was some kind of a master, I always tried to learn from him because in my life I had been failing so many times trying to adapt to situations and carry on , instead he showed me what it is to fight back and what it is to precisely take the things  into a lighter way, into a carefree way that I always wish I had on all my human problems.

Simba was some kind of a prince, you could tell just by looking at him, sometimes me and my sister would just go by him and  lay down and pay our respects to him like if he was a divinity because in all truth he was our little amazing divine prince and he will always be; Simba never lost his dignity or  temper for anything , he was very regal in pretty much anything he did “you close the door in front of me?, fine i’ll just meow for one minute and most likely go find something else to do and ignore you for the rest of the day, i won’t drop onto my knees to beg you to open again the door” , that’s pretty much how he would most likely think.

Simba was a very social cat, he was an indoor cat but coming from the thing I had taken him from the street at the age of 3 months, he still would want to try to get out sometimes and meet the other cats, sometimes he would just look at them by the window and talk to them for a long while; he was very gentle he would never hiss at any other cat unless that cat happened to be a dog, he was the most amazing creature I had ever seen before.

Simba would always do his “ cat duties “, that’s how I would tell my sister, meaning that Simba would always come to cheer up anyone in the house who was not feeling well, he would always come to greet visitors or watch them in case they tried to do anything bad; he never broke anything in the house never a single problem never a pee out of his box, he was absolutely the synonym of perfection, I have not had other cats but believe me if I had a way I would add his picture next to the word -perfection- in the dictionary.

Simba was just that unlucky to get a mortal disease,feline leukemia, for which  he was religiously vaccinated yearly, a thing that was just so not expected a thing that rushed into his life and in a window of time of 35 days took him away  but oh my dear feline friend, you should have seen how he fought that thing.. you should have seen how he went through two transfusions trying to fight the thing off, you should have seen how with an hematocrit of 9 he would still find the force to come on my desk and come snuggle me, and 2 days before leaving he would still find the force to hop on top of the printer and wait for all the family to come home, because in that very night we were gonna celebrate his fourth birthday; you also should have seen how into his last days, the night before I had an important test at university, he found the strenght to jump onto the library and get a little sample bag of dry food I had there stored randomly and just run with the bag into his mouth as a little dog and breaking it with his amazing teeth to get the food out of the bag, I was so sad and devastated that night but I saw him fighting like that and it also gave me the strength to keep pushing in what I was doing.

A few nights after that, he suddenly rushed into a very bad metabolic acidosis, all his precious blessed tissues were not getting anymore oxygen because the cursed virus had his bone marrow anihilated, I did recognize how bad he was suffering that night and I rushed him to the clinic so that iIcould immediately end the long and amazing fight of the best friend I could ever have.

Please if you happen to roam onto these words I have poorly organized onto this little stream of my consciousness, please spend five seconds of your time to send a little wish for my Simba, the prince of cats, please I ask you to honor him as I would honor every single creature of this world, I have nothing left to do now that just honor him for the rest of my life and let others know who he was and what he did.

Simba I don’t know if there’s another place after this, a bridge or a city or a garden but please just know my darling  that I will have you with me in my mind and in my heart until the last breath of my little sometimes empty mortal life. I love you very much mio grande piccolo pezzo di gatto.

I never wanted a Bullterrier. After all, they have a "reputation". Vicious, unpredictable dogs, right? Wasn't I unprepared for the conversion I was to undergo.

Just under 11 years ago my husband took my then 8 year old daughter to "look" at some puppies, ostensibly for his dad. They arrived home that evening with a little furry rugby ball with needles for teeth. Well what was I going to do - send them all packing? Within an hour of her arrival this little girl had stolen my heart. Shall we just gloss over the chewed shoes, gardening disasters and other teething troubles we experienced during Blaze's puppyhood? I think so... Let me concentrate rather on her loving disposition, her endearing, sometimes frustrating need to keep at least one human in sight at all times, her fondness for physical contact (usually entailing her planting herself bodily on one's foot). She loved everyone devotedly, but no one more than her master... my husband. Should he ill-advisedly leave her to go to the bathroom and not let her in with him, she would plaster herself up against the door and adopt her very effective "abandoned orphan" face and pose. Upon his reappearance she would greet him excitedly as though he'd returned from exile in a far away place.

Through the years she made many human friends visiting our home and on her walking routes who grew to love her and look forward to a chat with her. She took all adulation as nothing less than her due. She would talk... Complaining of insufficient attention, or demanding walks, a game or a share in whatever one might be eating (sulking balefully if you refused her anything albeit bad for dogs). She loved anything with wheels - cuddling up to the refuse bin, vacuum cleaner or wheelbarrow like they were pals. She snored like a tractor, could produce odours so noxious they could obliterate a small village and would wipe her mushy mouth on the cat after eating. At 30 odd kilogrammes believed she was a little fluffy lapdog and in spite of her typical stiff bullterrier physique loved to cuddle. She was afraid of the dark too. Her sweet nature and affectionate ways completely changed my view of her breed and made me a bully advocate.

Her illness started reasonably quickly and after a month of return visits to the vet and slight improvements reversing a bit more each time, we woke up one morning to a clearly suffering pup. The vet told us that it was either liver or heart cancer and Blaze wasn't going to get better. My husband made the heartbreaking decision to say goodbye and Blaze slipped peacefully from our lives. We will never forget our girl... She was my daughter's partner in crime, my cuddlebug and my husband's shadow. Rest well Blaze... There never was a dog like you.

German Bread Mantel Great Dane - My lifeline of support for nearly 7rys

 Formally: Registered Name, Tuxedo Button – Balu was acquired 10/05/06 from a breeder, mainly as a playmate for another American Breed Mantel Great Dane “Bula.” Their reasons, were that she didn't grow tall enough to be a show dog. Within just a few days it was clearly apparent that Balu's previous life had been traumatic, she showed signs of; head ducking, food hording, barking aggression/stalking towards men built like the male breeder and wearing a ball cap. At first it was a very scary situation at the dog park wondering if she would have further aggression, but thankful she never showed this behavior.

 Instead, Balu was always the comedian! She had never been introduced to toys, so she knew nothing of playing with a ball or fetch. But within just days she latched onto a small fleece pillow and until her death her “woobies” were her security blanket. I couldn't leave a room without her being right on my heals, even stepping on flip-flops walking thru the house, and showing signs of always wanting to be nearer to me than anyone else. Which I certainly didn't mind!

On 11/07/2007 I was injured on the job, chronic in bed for over 8 months, and didn't work for 3 years. After 3 months my X left me and Balu with me. This was a very difficult time in my life, I could barely care for myself and had trouble with mobility. Balu instinctively knew I needed her help and would assist me in getting up from the bed or sitting allowing me to put my weight on her getting around the house.

TJ found me the week my mother died. She was injured, small, and alone, looking for someone to take her in. It took 2 days for her to at last be caught and our love for one another was solidified. She was my best friend and a great mouser, playful and loyal. She followed me everywhere and if I was not home, would meow out of loneliness for me. She also would come when her name was called or when I sang the Meow Mix song or even if I just meowed to her. She was by far the smartest cat I've ever had the pleasure to be owned by.

2 ½ years ago she was diagnosed with 2 inoperable brain tumors. She was given the slim prognosis of lasting even 6 months and the vet felt it was more likely she wouldn’t live past a month. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to my best friend. Vitamins and prednisolone extended her life as did her big heart and a whole lot of love.

I will miss her more than I can say. The emptiness is almost unbearable right now-she’s not at the door when I come home, not rising up to greet me when I get up, not meowing at me to pick her up to sit beside me on the couch. The hole in my heart is huge, and I still need her to comfort me. TJ, I love you-I know I will see her again someday.

Skye was an absolutely incredible girl who brought so much love and joy to our life. From our first minute together until our last, she gave our family so much. I believe that her spirit will continue to guide our family, as she has done for the past 11 years. We are grateful that she was able to enjoy a full life and that her passing was peaceful and quite beautiful.

She was the most loving and patient dog anyone could hope for. She liked to entertain and was a goof ball - but a gentle one. She loved with her whole heart and brought so many smiles to everyone who met her. Always eager to please and always up for an adventure. She was everyone's best friend, especially mine, as the two of us grew up together. Always ready with a kiss or a slipper or a mitten or whatever she could find, Skye was a unique dog whose personality and special soul will never be forgotten.

I will always be thankful for what Skye brought to my life. She will always be loved and always be remembered. 

She came into my life Thanksgiving time 1997 and gave me a lifetime of reasons to be thankful.  The last of the litter, left behind by those who had picked through the pups before me, yet I know there was no better “pick”.  I named her “Chance”, because I was bringing her home to be a companion to my cherished “Bailey”, I had no idea if the chance I was taking would go well, but they quickly became fast friends and the three of us became a family.

After a year of adjustment, it was time to find a new companion for Chance, and so, Tucker joined our family.  That first day, a tiny 6 week old Lab puppy chased a fearful giant German Shepherd around the dining room table and I thought we were in for a long road; but within 15 minutes the chasing became a game, and right before my eyes, Chance blossomed into a Mom, tolerating the teething little terror who now pounced on her head and pulled at her ears.  She showed the patience of a saint and gently raised the little pup with gentle nudges and nibbles of love.  The two dogs became inseparable for all the years we were granted of Chance’s life.

When our time together was coming to its end, she fought beyond what was comfortable for her to stay by my side, and I returned that love, by letting her go.  The cord that bound us in life is now stretched between two worlds, but it is no less palpable.  My many memories, her final kisses, volumes of photos, and special keepsakes help to patch the hole in my heart, and I take comfort in knowing that she is at peace and out of pain.  Tucker and I will always miss our Angel Chance, but we are grateful for the time we shared together as a family and we will honor Chance’s life and memory with our eternal love.