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*works on something special for Swirly* ninja whee ninja

I can't give it to you yet officially. This is something I did for a shop hiring event. If I don't get hired and I'm allowed to keep one for a friend, she'll be yours. Surprise!

Yuuka - so beautiful, I love her *cuddles*

Das - you made poor Swirly cry all over again.. I know how absolutely heartbreaking the decision is.. it's like having to decide if you'd give that shot to yourself.. ;o; *snuggles*

I'm glad you like her. ^^ I'm sorry she doesn't have a shiny. I can't draw anything to save my life. sweatdrop

I'm just happy you like her. ^^

Isn't it simply amazing how a creature can come into your life and change everything for the better? How having that confidante that accepts and loves you for who and what you are, unconditionally, no boundaries, no expectations, just love love love.



This is Angel. She's my love, the one I can tell anything to and I know she'll never tell. My sweet red girl, a golden retriever who never really was gold. She was always a vibrant red color, often confused for an irish setter.



My step-dad decided that getting a dog would be a good idea. He wanted her to be my half-siblings dog, and I was to never sleep with the dog in my room. This rang true until the kids didn't want to give her the attention she deserved, and Angel became MY dog then.



My sweet girl. Years passed. The family moved and took her with them. I was heartbroken, lost, upset. I missed my girl. She was the only pet I'd ever bonded to like I did with her. A few months went by and I got a call from my mom.

"Your dad wants to get rid of Angel. You have to come pick her up. He was angry at her the other night and kicked her, sprained his toe and wants to take her to the pound. Come pick her up."



I flew, promising my mom I'd never let anything happen to Angel. That I'd keep her, protect her, she was my best friend and I'd never let anything happen to her. Even now, years later, after the passing of my mother in '04, this beautiful dog is the last thing I have that keeps me in contact with my mother.



My mom loved this dog, but being the only breadwinner of the house she didn't have time for her aside from a quick pat on the head or a little bit of fetch. She knew she could trust me to keep Angel "in the family" and I promised her I would. When she had a stroke in '04 and passed away 2 weeks later, I could tell Angel knew. She grieved like the rest of us did.


(Most recent picture of her and her white face. My old lady dog.)

She's 15 years old this year. Never had a lick of health problems in her life, but I can see the way she's gotten worse and worse. Always a pristine girl with immaculate bathroom habits, she's gotten a bit scatterbrained and often makes potty in the house. She's so ashamed after the fact, but I never yell at her. She's a good girl, loving and still my best friend. She's sore, achy, cries sometimes when she's got to stand up... it's so hard.

We're going to make the decision to let her go soon. My boyfriend is quite attached to her and he's a part of the decision-making process. It's not easy. I'm dreading it with every fiber of my being, but I know it'll be what's best for her.

I guess the point of my story is that despite having your wonderful dog for such a short amount of time, an unfair amount of time, she made your life better. Pets are amazing, they add a sparkle to our lives that lingers even after they've gone. Their sparkle remains for true and for real, and we are blessed to have them in our lives.

Never forget that sparkle, and most importantly, remember how blessed you were to have her, and she you.


Angel as a puppy a few days after we brought her home in '95.

Such a sad story Swirly.

I've got a few stories, all rather short.

First is Mr. Wookie. My mom and step-dad were going through a rough point, he had moved out, they were planning on divorcing, and so we had decided to get a dog. My mom wanted either a really tiny or really large dog. We ended up finding a little mutt on craigslist. They said he had been dumped at their groomers. We drove an hour or more to meet them in a parking lot of a mall. He was horribly thin, a red flag these people were lying to us as his picture he looked plump and happy. He was terrified but the sweetist little thing ever. We took him home, our cats loved him, he refused to mess in the house, and he wouldn't leave us alone. We went to bed soon after wards since it was late and the next morning set him up in my mom's bathroom for the day. My mom came home after work and he wasn't moving. At all. She rushed him to the vet and when she got there it was discovered he was really sick, the worst of which was Parvo. When my mom told me about this I searched and searched and found out he was not likely to survive as dark colored dogs, for whatever reason, had a harder time surviving. We went to school the next day like normal and when we were picked up my mom told us the news. The vet had stayed until 2am with him before going home. When they returned at 7am he had passed on. We'd had him less then 24 hours. That night we picked up a new dog, since we couldn't not have one, it hurt that bad. Roxie has been with us since then and is going strong, thankfully. I've gotten Mr. Wookie as a little Usida. He makes me smile when I see him.

Then there was Tinkerbell. A sickly little kitten, once more, off crigslist. She was my step-dads present. Horribly dehydrated and starved we knew we could take care of her. After all I had vet tech experience, I knew how to handle sick animals. She got better and better, we were all thrilled, then one night suddenly she was going down hill fast, We didn't know why but my parents turned to me to decide what they should do. I said take her to the emergency vet and they did. Her heart was enlarged, nothing they could do, they had to put her down. We had had her a few weeks, at most. We got two new kittens, one for my step-dad, one for me, a few months later. Both of them are going strong and crazy as any cat ever was.

Finally, my bunnies. I had four of them for FFA. I only needed them 6 months and then I was suppose to find homes for them. I had three boys, Sleepy, Moose and Usagi, and a girl, Bacon. The boys seemed to all get sick and they passed away within days of each other. Bacon however just grew and grew, became a sassy little brat, and while she was such a pain to deal with at times, she became my favorite. I started bringing her in during the day, since it was so hot outside. Then one day I went out and she was laying there. I knew something was wrong and when I got closer, I saw she was no longer alive. I didn't expect to be so upset over a rabbit that was never meant as my pet. But I was, still am. I got her as a little Usida as well.


Best of luck to you and just hold on to the memories. No matter how sad they may be, they can still bring you joy.

Aw, Swirly, I cried while reading Kai's story. Such a sweet thing to lose so young...

I've had a similar experience with two dogs - Tippie and Oppie.
Tippie was a beautiful English springer spaniel. My dad got her a few months before I was born, without telling my mom. He just brought home a sweet little puppy one day. I grew up with her. She was always shy, and almost deathly afraid of thunderstorms. Even when she went deaf, she could feel the vibration rolling through the ground and cowered next to whoever was sitting on the couch during such a storm - usually me. Eventually, her eyes got foggy, but she could still sniff around fine. She knew each of us by our scent - I could have sworn that dad was sawdust, mom was hay, and I was... well, she would've identified me by the smell of my cat, who's still around, probably hanging out on my bed, tubby as ever. Last year, my mom took Tippie to the vet without telling anyone but my dad, and they put her down. The vet's cat curled up in her lap while she cried.



I think that's the only picture we have of Oppie, our little rat terrier. You can't see it, but he has a rabbit silhouette on the back of his neck. We had Oppie from the time he was really little until he was around 6. He loved to cuddle with us, but he had really pointy elbows ^_^ He was a sweet, sweet boy, always ready to give his neighbor (human or otherwise) a good ear-cleaning. He was lost to the coyotes on September 9, 2006. And I'll always remember that day because it was my first day in a new school and he didn't come when we called him.

I've never had real issues with animals and death and crying, but talking about this here is the first time I think I've cried about them.

I hate to end it this way, but that's all I can tell for now... I'm being called.