r/Petloss

My husband and I just lost our 8 year old German Shepard mix, our soul dog. He had been his normal self all day surrounded by family who was giving him tons of love and attention. Then late last night as we were getting ready for bed he suddenly collapsed on our kitchen floor. He convulsed for a minute and we tried desperately to resuscitate him but he was gone quickly. We rushed him to the emergency vet praying for a miracle but within seconds they confirmed he had already passed. My brain has been unable to process this. He wasn’t sick at all. We had just taken him to the vet to get his annual and everything came back normal. He was still so active and full of energy. The vet said an ultrasound on his heart pointed to a heart attack. Probably from a heart issue that we were not even aware he had.

We were able to say goodbye but I still couldn’t process it. It took a good 30 minutes of sitting with him, his body growing cold before I just fell to my knees sobbing. When we got back home, I couldn’t walk into the house. His toy, blankets, beds, hair…all over every inch of our house. He was our baby. Our worlds revolved around him. I really thought we had more time. I thought at least 2-3 more years. We had a camping trip planned in two weeks with him. It’s been something l had wanted to do before he got too old. And he was taken from us. I don’t know what to do.

My husband and I are curled up on our dog’s side of the couch with his blankets and pillows. My husband has fallen asleep finally but I can’t. Every time I drift off I snap awake in a panic. That feeling of dread and despair comes right back. I’ve never felt this kind of pain before. I love my boy in a way that words cannot describe, but it’s a kind of love that I cannot feel for anything else but him. I’m truly shattered and I don’t know how people pick themselves back up after experiencing this kind of loss. This whole night I’ve just been sobbing “I don’t know what to do”. I’m angry, I’m heartbroken, I feel dead and numb inside one second and then I can’t control an outpouring of emotions the next. Thank you though if you’ve read this far. Typing this out has been the only thing I can think of to cope in this moment.

I love you with all my heart and soul, Cloud. Always and forever my bestest boy ❤️

He's 18 years old and his kidneys are failing. My family found him when he was a baby barely able to open his eyes. He's got a lot of gray aging fur now, but you can still see he's white-ish chest, like a tux. I already miss the way he'd follow me through the house. Today I say goodbye to my handsome old man and one of my last friends. I love you Midnight, thank you for your years of love.

I feel incredibly broken right now. We put our beloved cat to sleep this past Wednesday, and since then, I haven’t been able to sleep. The guilt and the "what ifs" are absolute torture.

Back in January, after a long search for the cause of her health issues, she was diagnosed with widespread lymphoma. She had small tumors on her hip that made it difficult for her to walk, and her back leg was constantly swollen. The first vet advised us to euthanize her then, saying there was no hope for improvement. We weren't ready. We got a second opinion, but the diagnosis was the same.

We chose palliative care because we couldn't let go yet. We gave her strong opioids (Buprenorphine) 1–2 times a day to ensure she wasn't in pain. It was so hard to tell if she was suffering; she was such a fighter. Over the months, she lost so much weight and her limp got worse, but she still sought our company, purred, ate, and drank.

Things changed at the end of March. For about 1.5 weeks, she had constant diarrhea, barely ate or drank, and her face just looked... different. She would sit in her own mess because she couldn't get away or clean herself, and we had to wash her. We felt that because cats are such clean animals, this was a loss of dignity for her.

We scheduled the appointment for Wednesday evening. But on that final day, she was so active. She ate, she drank—it was a "good day." I felt so much uncertainty. We had scheduled and canceled so many appointments before, but this time felt final.

The vet came to our home. He did a quick exam and said she seemed more "absent" than usual, but he only saw a snapshot of her. I feel like I should have spoken up more, shown him how active she had been that morning. I feel like I let myself be pressured into the decision because I thought it was "time," and even the vet agreed.

But I wasn't ready. And now, the guilt is consuming me. I feel like I lied to her, betrayed her, and went behind her back. I keep seeing the images of her final moments and wondering: What if she could have had a few more beautiful weeks? What if she didn't want to go yet? Did we just take her life away when all she wanted was our love?
I’m also struggling with the morality of it all. Was I even entitled to make such a decision for her? Shouldn't I have just stayed by her side and cared for her until the very end, no matter how hard it got?

I keep wondering if she might have just passed away peacefully on her own in her sleep. I feel like I played God and took away her natural end. I feel like I owed it to her to keep nursing her, but instead, I chose to end it. How do I live with the thought that I may have cut her time short when she was still fighting to be with us?

I don't know how to deal with this. It’s tearing me apart.

3 dogs. I came home to 3 dogs. I fed 3 dogs. It was supposed to be 4.. My sweet little baby went to heaven tonight. I held it together for the most part at the emergency vet. But when they told me her lungs were full of cancer it nearly took me out. I held it together still. My husband was at work so it was just me making all these decisions. This is my husband's baby. He's had her for almost 16 years. I've been with them the last 8 and still I managed to hold it together. Idk how. They told me there wasn't anything they could do. My husband got to leave work temporarily to come be with her in her last moments. Thank you God for allowing that to happen. My husband does not cry.. and he sobbed his heart out when he saw her. Oh how I could hold it together no longer. We held her until the end. Our sweet baby. We brought her home so that our other babies could see her so that they could understand she was gone. Oh how I broke. Our sweet sweet girl. I hope you are at peace and not in pain any longer. We love you baby girl ❤️

I was supposed to be spending the night with a friend & my mom begged me to come home. it was around 12:15 when i got home, got out of my car, i saw a black cat on my front yard? i was like thats strange. we have a neighbors cat that comes up to our house alot that looked just like my cat pluto. . I thought the neighbors cat was chilling outside our front yard. I was tryna get the cat to come here, made noises and wasnt moving… I went inside and asked my mom “Wheres pluto?” No answer. I asked agian “oh hes inside somewhere” So I went back outside to check, tried to call the cat again. No response, a few secs later the neighbors cat came to say hi. My dad went out and checked the cat that was laying outside. and it was MY cat, my baby dead on my front yard. No bleeding or nothing. His body was still warm which means he had died less than an hour ago. I am still in shock. My cat hasnt even turned 1 yet, he was going to this year in a couple months. He was the most sweetest loving cat, was super clingy and always wanted to cuddle me and be with me all the time. I have no idea what happend to him im still in shock. Im so heartbroken. Please can someone tell me it will get better. He was probably looking for me before he died thinking wheres mommy? I will always love you my baby boy 💔

Does anybody else feel like they got shot through the chest and are just walking around with this giant hole, waiting for it to slowly close up? There's nothing to speed up the process so you're just hobbling around in this pain you can't ignore.

People may or may not choose to address this obvious wound. And if they do, they are telling you that it will get better with time. I know this to be true, but in the meantime you're standing there with this gaping hole where your heart used to be and are like ok well...what do I do? Just wait it out?

How am I supposed to do anything when so much of me is missing and there's an indeterminate amount of time until I'm somewhat whole again?

I've already adopted another dog to help me heal, but then there's this looming threat of being shot again at some point in time.

Give me my dog back.

I've had my cat, Tigger since I was in high school and I'm in my early 30s now. My parents found him, his mom, and siblings outside and we ended up taking them in. We got his mom spayed after the kittens were weaned and we kept Tigger plus his mom(we rehomed his siblings). He was never really supposed to be my cat, my little sister loved him because he was orange so of course she named him Tigger and wanted to keep him. The problem was he really didn't like attention or people, at least when he was younger. For some reason though, he liked me. And as time went on he liked only me and wouldn't tolerate anyone else, so he kind of just became my cat. When I moved out I took him with me, he's gotten me through some of the lowest points in my life. Multiple break ups, jobs, moves, falling out with my parents. My little sister, the one that demanded we keep him and named him, passed away suddenly and unexpectedly a few years ago. So as dumb as it sounds, it also feels like I've lost my best friend and a piece of her. He wouldn't even be in my life if it weren't for her, my parents initially planned to rehome all the kittens. She insisted we keep him and my parents gave in. I'm so glad she did because I think that cat saved me as melodramatic as it sounds.

I can't even imagine a day without him. I almost feel like I've been mourning him while he was alive, because the past couple of weeks he just was not himself at all. He stopped greeting me at the door, stopped sleeping in his favorite spot, would hide behind the couch, and would hardly eat. He lost so much weight that he hardly even looked like himself anymore. I don't know what I'm going to do without him. I don't even think I'd be here today if he wasn't by my side. I told him while I was holding him for the last time to "Please find me again." My chest feels so weird and empty, I feel out of it and like I'm in a daze. I wish I could have taken five years off my own life and given it to him, just for some more time with him.

I lost my soul dog, April O’Neil, on March 24th a month after celebrating her 11th birthday. She was my whole world. My sweet, beautiful baby girl. My Apsie Boo. I miss her so, so much.

She was fine that weekend. She’d been to the vet a few weeks earlier and was diagnosed with arthritis and put on Galliprant. She was doing well. Then, on Monday, the 23rd, she didn’t want to stand up to go outside in the morning. I was able to coax her with her favorite treat and she seemed just fine. I thought it was just stiffness. My sister forgot to give her the meds in the morning when she fed April before she left for work, so she tried after she got home. She didn’t take it. When I got home, she wasn’t getting up and moving around again. Again, I thought it was just pain in her leg.

We were able to get her to take her meds and gave them a few hours to kick in. Still not really moving too much. When I tried to get her to eat dinner, she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t even take a greenie at that point. So we loaded her in the car and went to the ER.

They ran a few tests and found her HR and BP were both low and her Potassium levels were high. Everything seemed reversible, based on what the vet was saying, so they started treatment, said they were going to run some more tests with the cardiologist in the morning, and sent me home at about 10 or 10:30.

By 12:40 she had stopped breathing/arrested and they called saying they’d been doing CPR for a few minutes and she wasn’t coming back.

I was devastated. I am devastated. She was with me from the time she was 5 months old. My life feels empty without her. Yes, I still have the cat I share with my sister and yes, I still have my sister’s dog in my life every day, but it isn’t the same. April was all MINE. Peaches isn’t. Cheshire isn’t just mine. And neither of them loves me the same way April did.

I’m so, so jealous of my friends who still have their own dogs in their lives. Which is stupid. It’s not their fault. It’s nobody’s fault. It just…happened. And my brain is being really fucking stupid about it.

I know I want another dog soon. I know I can’t live without a dog of my own. But I don’t want April, wherever she is, to feel like I’m replacing her. Besides, I can’t find any dogs that really meet my requirements in my area because I’m stupidly picky (I want a puppy, GSD, BC, or Aussie or some kind of mix of those, preferably female), but I also don’t want to go to a breeder. Unfortunately almost everything in the shelters where I live is some kind of pittie or hound and they’re not for me.

This week started out great, mentally. I had been feeling the best I had since April passed. Then yesterday it all devolved. I found some puppies in Mississippi early in the week that looked so similar to her when she was little, only they were black and white, instead of brown. Found out one of the ones I was looking at was likely adopted already. Also had a dream someone was telling me not to rush into getting another dog and just…lost it. Idk. Spent a good half hour crying at my desk at work because none of the puppies I’ve been seeing are for me and there aren’t many puppies to begin with and I can’t afford a purebred from a breeder and I know my friends would judge because they are all big “Adopt, don’t shop” people.

I just want my girl back. Not just her ashes. That’s what I want at this point. And it is impossible. And it sucks. And I don’t know how to move forward because having my dog was, like, my entire life and I have so much love to give to a puppy but none of the ones I have seen online feel right and with April I saw her on Petfinder and just knew she was the one.

TLDR; I am sad. And lost. And the grief fucking sucks.

I lost my beautiful girl two months ago. For nine years she was my everything. Then I had a baby.

This last year has been so hard for me. I was dealing with preeclampsia and postpartum anxiety, and my child had a congenital condition. As a result, I didn't give her the attention she deserved and didn't notice that she was getting skinnier and weaker until it was too late. She had IBD her whole life which often resulted in her having weight fluctuations, but I should have noticed that it was getting worse and taken her to the vet sooner. I loved her so much and I can't shake the guilt of how I let her down the last six months of her life. I claimed often that I would do anything for her, but when she needed me, I failed her.

I thought I was bringing my cat to the vet to get an antibiotic or similar, but would have never imagined I wouldn’t bring her home with me. My 9 year old cat had a slight change in her behavior over 2-3 days and was hiding under the bed & decreased her appetite / water consumption so I made a vet appointment. Her blood work (which had just been totally NORMAL just 3 months ago) showed red blood cell loss not compatible with life, she was on the brink of dying.? We were sent to the ER where we were quoted $10,000+ just to admit her to begin a blood transfusion, but were told “she’s the sickest animal here, she more than likely has cancer” and that even with aggressive treatment she would not be saved. I had to make the impossible decision to put my baby down, thinking the whole time she’d be coming home with me, never imagining this would be her fate. I can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that she was “fine” according to her bloodwork just a few months ago but yesterday she was dying and I didn’t even know it. Now she’s gone forever, in the blink of an eye. I bottle fed this cat, I raised her from a kitten, I need her back. I don’t know what to do from here. I still have 2 cats, it’s hard to even look at them right now and I feel horrific 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

My dog Luna put down roughly 2 months ago, and the grief is overwhelming. I spent days crying following her death, and missed several days of work. I just couldn’t function. I also was inconsolable when I walked the walking path we used to take for the first time without her.

I think about her and miss her everyday. Work kept me busy for a good month and a half. But since work has died done, I find myself thinking about her more and more.

I feel guilty and regret a lot of my behaviour towards her at times. Like running up the stairs and closing my door before she could come in and whine for my food. Not giving her more attention. For us leaving her alone at the house while we all went to work or school. However, the pandemic gave all of us more time to be with her during the day since we worked from home.

I got a tattoo of her in my arm this past Monday to honour her, and I’ve been going through all the pictures I have so I can make an album of her.

I don’t want to keep living without her. I’ve been crying every night without her, especially lately.

She had a beautiful soul and was my absolute best friend.

I am so conflicted with my feelings: On one hand, I feel like I should just let the grief take over since it feels wrong to continue life without her. On other hand, I feel like she supported me and got me to where I am now, and I feel like if’s disrespectful to not keep living.

All I know is that l will never see her or be with her ever again, unless the afterlife is a real thing. I can’t bear it, I hate the thought of that.

I don’t want my memories of her to fade with time. It’s my ultimate fear. She was the love of my life. I’ve never cared that deeply for someone that much. She was my everything.

I have to believe there is an afterlife. It’s the only thing that keeps be going, the thought that one day we will be reunited. Even so, I’m having a hard time thinking of all the years I have ahead of me that I have to endure without her.

Has anyone else that’s put a pet to sleep felt indescribable guilt?

My sweet boy was almost 15 years old. he wasn’t officially diagnosed, but based on his symptoms the vet thinks he had some sort of cat dementia. he stopped using the litter box/ would use the bathroom all over our house. I even put puppy pads down so he could use those. he wandered around, almost like he was confused. at night, he would meow so loudly like he didn’t know what was going on. if i found him to comfort him, he’d run away. again, he was almost 15. these behaviors were so out of the ordinary for him.

my breaking point was him trying to jump on the couch, he’d just scream in pain sometimes.

My husband and I made the decision to put him to sleep 2 days ago…and all I feel is guilt and regret. What if it wasn’t really his time…i feel like i killed him. He was purring and so loving at the appointment.

im so depressed. idk how to get over this feeling.

We put my dog of 12 years to sleep yesterday. He was my best friend, and he had been with me since I was in college. I trained him from a puppy, and he was with my through so many changes.. so many moves, job changes, etc. All the big moments in my life, he was there for me.

He was a German Shepherd and everyone always commented on how great he looked for his age. His labs were pristine and his organs were in great condition.
Over the last 2 years, he has been slowing down. When I first noticed it, I took him to the vet. He had a MRI and was diagnosed with lumbosacral stenosis and IVDD. However, it was overshadowed by the cancer he was diagnosed with at the time. He was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer- anal sac adenocarcinoma. He had the mass removed and had 6 rounds of chemo. He followed up every 3 months for over a year at the vet with ultrasounds, X rays, labs etc. He was cancer free and healthy. However, his back issues were not the main concern during this time. We did take him to acupuncture and physical therapy, when we could, however. We recently moved across the country and have been unable to get him into physical therapy or acupuncture here.

Over the last few months, he started to decline more. He seemed very happy still, but he was not a cuddly dog by nature and got most of his joy in life from walks and food. We couldn't really take him on walks much anymore, because he was scraping his back paws/claws. He was falling as well if he got too excited. For a while, we had used a wheelchair, but I think he must have had some arthritis in his front shoulders too, so I didn't want to put him in pain by shifting weight onto his front end. He looked so sad when we would take my other dog on walks and leave him behind, but I couldn't bear to see him struggling and hear his back paws scraping so much. He had scraped down his back claws basically to nothing since he has been having weakness back there for so long.

Yesterday, he seemed worse. He was scraping his back paws pretty bad to the point of knuckling them, lost his balance a few times, etc. He was very wobbly and was tripping a bunch when I let him out to go to the bathroom. He seemed to have some difficulty getting up but was still able to.

We have discussed for a while wanting to let him pass with dignity and not letting him get to the point where he couldn't walk or was in his own urine/feces. I just felt like I could not do that to him. I loved him so much and was so terrified of having his final moments be scary or bad. I feel like we made a pretty quick decision to put him to sleep yesterday though.

I fed him a bunch of human food (including ordering him a steak from a nice restaurant), fed him a 3 big bones, took him on one last trip for a pup cup, and I let him walk me around the block until he didn't want to walk anymore. Usually he would want to walk forever, even if he was struggling. But he seemed to know that it was "enough" and that he couldn't really get around the block well. The vet came to our house to euthanize him, and we let him go in our backyard.

I am struggling big time, because he was so happy yesterday. At one point, he even tried to do a little run over to me for a bone.

I feel like I betrayed him. I am beating myself up because I feel like I should have asked about surgery for his back 2 years ago. Or I should have done more to keep it from getting to this point. I wish I had taken him back to the vet to see if he could try a different medication or pushed harder to try to get him into physical therapy here. I just feel like I gave up on him and that I didn't try hard enough and just made a snap decision to let him go. Since he was so happy, maybe it was just a bad day and tomorrow would have been a good day for him again, and I just chose too soon.

I read all this stuff online where people say they made the decision when their dog wouldn't eat or drink or truly couldn't walk, and it makes me feel so guilty that I basically killed my happy dog and my best friend.

I am devastated. I cannot look at his bed. I don't want to get out of bed. I am just crying and completely heartbroken. I just kept crying and telling him I was sorry after he was gone. I almost wanted to stop the vet in the middle of the appointment. I have all of these pictures of him from yesterday before the appointment smiling so big, looking so happy and like he was having the time of his life. I just hate myself now for not doing everything to see if he would get better first. This was the first pet I have had to make this decision for, and I was so scared of doing it too late that I think I did it too soon, and I can never forgive myself.

I just found out yesterday that my dog of 13 years has a huge tumor on his liver, the tests are very bad, his urine, poop and vomit all have blood and everything has escalated so quickly in the last 24 hours. I swear he didn't seem to be this bad a few weeks ago. The vet said he can live 2 weeks to 1 month maximum and told us to think about eutanasia. So we booked an appointment to do this today and I don't know how to do this. I spent the whole day yesterday and today with him and tonight I will have to take him there. How can I just get him out of his bed, get him in the car and drive him to his death? I feel like I'm taking away his life on purpose and I feel very guilty and very bad. At the same time I don't want to risk having him in pain or getting worse and worse, I want the best for him. It's like a conflict in me and I feel helpless, I feel like everything changes so quickly, like a few weeks ago he seemed fine and now I will take his life in just 48 hours? I thought about keeping him for a few more days/weeks but my mom is already in a very bad mental state and I don't know if I can handle him going worse and worse and eventually having to euthanize him anyway.

Please if you have any advice for me from your experiences or anything like that please help me because I feel like I'm losing my mind.

I adopted my dog near the end of her life without knowing, we had one very happy year and then one year of knowing she would die soon. She was senior age but just barely so I thought we'd have more time. I adopted her from her original mom who had her since she was a puppy, it was a tough situation but she was doing so well after some time to grieve and miss her old life. She was the best thing that ever came into my life and changed it for the better in so many ways. Then she started having symptoms and everything became sad and scary. I just want to ramble about her a bit a lot because I'm listening to a song that always reminds me of her, The Night We Met- Lord Huron.

She had degenerative myelopathy, so she was losing mobility over time until it progressed far enough up her spine that euthanasia was kindest. All of the song lyrics feel like they're written about my dog. I know it's supposed to be more of a love/breakup song but nah it's definitely about my dog.

She used a wheelchair eventually but most of her walks would still be with me holding her up in her help-em-up harness attached to her butt. WE chased squirrels, I did my best not to slow her down lmao. We were such a good team, we really moved as one! We always had so much fun even in the last year when her back legs weren't working, she never seemed to want to be done until the very last few days of her life.

I hate that I always think of the last year first, the hard times are what my mind goes to and I have to dig to get to the happy memories. It's the same feeling as when I learned her prognosis, now there's a shadow over the memories like there was over everything for the last year of her life. I'm so happy to have had her in my life, I just want to feel only that when I remember.

She was the first major death in my life, I know that means I've been lucky but it really doesn't feel like it. I'm still too sad to get another dog and afraid to face a disease like DM again. But I did go to therapy after she died and we worked on being able to think of her without being overwhelmed by sadness, fear, and guilt, it helped a lot. I can listen to songs that remind me of her and I'll definitely cry like a baby but it's not an all day thing if that makes sense. I can look at pictures and feel sad but not dwell on it too much.

I still struggle with things like should I have let her go sooner? I took over her care after 8 years of a happy life and then she's gone after 2 years with me? Like her disease was somehow my fault. I've always struggled with my mental health (walks were amazing for that! but I don't walk at all without a dog). The first year with my dog was the first time I felt like life might turn out ok, and then I lost it, and really spiraled after her death. It'll be 4 years soon and I've only started to feel like I've recovered from it in the last year or so.

I'm not "over it" but I think I'm doing ok now. She would most likely have died from old age by now and I wonder how different things would be. She was my best friend, she was so smart, I think she had a real sense of humor. She was so LOUD and she made me feel so safe, my guard dog. She really gave me a run for my money every day, I miss her a lot.

Ever since my pet passed, I’ve had this weird fear of forgetting the little details.

Not the big stuff — I’ll always remember those. But like… the way they looked at me, little habits, random moments that didn’t seem important at the time.

I’ve been going back through photos and trying to hold onto those pieces somehow. Even started writing small notes to go with them.

One thing that’s been unexpectedly comforting is being able to see everything kind of in order — like watching them grow up again over time. It makes it feel less like scattered memories and more like a story.

I don’t know if that’s a normal thing to do.

How do you all deal with this?

Do you keep albums, write things down, or just leave everything as is?

TW: explicit detail on pet death.

I had to let my 4 year old baby girl Ruby go 2nd April 2026. She had a mediastinal thoracic lymphoma. We were beyond devastated to lose her, but there was nothing that could be done to save her.

When we began to leave after putting Ruby to rest, a vet nurse came into the room to "collect" Ruby....and realistically, I knew what they needed to do with her beautiful little body....

I saw on Ruby's history under her PTS procedure notes, "red plastic bag in freezer" and it made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew what it meant, and it made my blood run cold. I couldn't bear the thought of my sweet girl being wrapped in a plastic bag and put into a freezer, despite me knowing deep down, the reality of why this needed to happen. We had opted for individual cremation....the crematorium being a third party to the vet clinic.

All I want to know, is....do vet staff treat our dearly departed babies with love and gentleness right to the very end? I'd feel so much better knowing that the people handing my baby after she'd gone, truly cared and gave her every inch of love and respect she deserved.

I was watching the BTS concert with headphones on. And all of a sudden my nervous system was waiting for some tippy tappies on the wooden floor or a scratch on my bedroom door. My soul was scanning the sounds I still expect to hear.

When we spend years attuned with a loved one, our nervous system builds a Neural Map. You know when they are looking for you and when they are near.

But I am actually grateful that I still experience these phantom sounds. I am reminded that sushi lives on in my mind and soul. The scan is complete. I found you in my heart 🩷🐾👼

I had to say goodbye to my dog three weeks ago and it has been so difficult. I got him just a few months after graduating college, and less than a month after getting married. In many ways, it feels like he was the embodiment of me becoming an adult. He was only nine years old. I've anonymized the people and place names below, but the rest is my letter to Petey that I wanted to share with anyone who would hear it.

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Dear Petey,

It's been a few weeks since we had to say goodbye to you. I still miss you so so so much. I still have to catch myself, thinking you'll be there. Today I was eating lunch and dropped a piece of food. I quickly turned around to grab it because I was expecting you to lunge for it.

We say it's hard because it happened so fast. Or because you were still so young. Or because we didn't give you the attention you deserved in your last year. In truth, it's hard for a million reasons. We just don't want it to be true.

You were "just a dog" but you also felt like my child. We joked all the time, calling you our first baby. You really were. We got you less than a month after we got married. Graduating college, getting married, moving across the country, and then getting you... before we even had a bed frame, we had you.

On the very first night, I told Claire, "He sleeps in the kennel, not in the bed with us." It took me less than fifteen minutes before I changed my mind. You slept against me all night long. I woke up soaked in your pee. Thinking back, it's kind of funny how we went full circle there. I wasn't mad, though. I never was. I knew you didn't mean to.

The first year in Portland went by quickly, but we still have so many fun memories of you in the puppy stage. Hiding on the couch because you wouldn't stop biting us... you pulling the milk carton out of the recycling bin to play with like a chew toy... throwing the bouncy ball down the hall and watching you bound after it... getting stuck in the bathtub because you jumped in and couldn't get out... you sleeping under our tiny little side table because you were so little and fit under it just perfectly.

And then we moved to California. You loved it there. We got to go on walks every day around the apartment complex and see all the ducks and other dogs. You made lots of friends and got to chase squirrels (your "tree brothers" as we called them). I also remember how scared I was the day you dug a hole under the fence and ran across the parking lot. Even though it was just thirty feet, I was terrified that we'd lose you forever.

Then we moved back to Portland. Before long, we had a house. When we got the house, you were just over three years old. You got to spend the majority of your life calling this place home, even though it has felt like such a short time. I'm glad you got that consistency.

We set you up with a perch on the second floor so you could watch cars and people go by out the window. Looking over now, I still see a hundred of your nose prints where you'd stick your face against the glass and watch. I never want to clean those off.

At some point, we learned that you also loved to sleep on the top of the couch near the front door. We got some security cameras, but they all faced indoors just to watch you for the rare occasions when we went somewhere without you. Our little Petey cams.

The years of COVID came and it was probably incredible for you. Suddenly we were home all the time. There was nothing else to do other than go on walks with you. After COVID, I got a remote job, which meant I spent almost every single day of the last six years of your life with you. That's another reason why it hurts so much now... I probably spent more hours in a day with you than any human in the world, even Claire.

Even though I wasn't always playing with you, I loved having you near me all the time. I think you also liked being near me. I'd often turn to you to give you a couple pets or scratches, or if I finished a block of meetings, we'd go in the yard or on a short walk. On nice sunny days, I'd take off work an hour early and go on a long walk with you. It's been hard to do that recently. Not because I don't have a reason to go on those walks, but because going on them just makes me think of you and miss you. The weather is nice, so I know you'd love them.

We have so many memories of you over the years, but the part I love most is the mundanity of it all. Yes, we took you on the occasional hike or to an "event" but what I loved is just always having you at our side. If we were in the office, you'd be on your perch or in our laps. If we were watching TV, you'd be in front of the fire or right beside us. If we were making dinner, you'd be lying in your kitchen bed or standing on the couch trying to beg. Every time I'd take my plate down after lunch, you'd run to the door so I'd let you out in the yard for a few minutes. If I went to work out in the basement, you'd bring me a toy to throw until you got tired.

In February 2025, Eliza was born. You were so excited to have a baby in the house (to begin with, at least). We knew we'd spend less time with you, but we still felt guilty about it. We still went on walks every day, but it definitely felt different. Nevertheless, you were always by her side. In the thousands of pictures we have from 2025, you're always nosing your way in or hiding off in a corner, curious about the new human growing up in our house.

In September 2025, we took you in for your annual check-up. The one note we had was, "It's hard to describe, but he seems kind of depressed?" At the time, we thought it was because you weren't getting as much attention with the new baby around. Looking back, there were signs of what was really happening. You played less (he's getting old!). You ate less (he's getting Eliza's scraps!). You went for more frequent bathroom breaks (he's just doing mini-pees so he gets more treats!). The vet told us you had early symptoms of kidney disease (normal BUN: 7-31. Yours: 76). There was no cure.

While devastating to hear, we thought we still had plenty of time left with you. We'd continue to monitor you and if symptoms progressed, there were steps we could take (like putting you on a special diet). For the time, there was nothing else we needed to do, though -- just continue to love and support you.

In December, something new started happening that was weird... you began to wet the bed almost every night. We were traveling to Indiana at the time, so we weren't able to see our regular vet. There was some suspicion that you may have a UTI. They did blood work and while your kidney values were still very high (BUN: 107), they weren't that much worse than September (and your creatinine was still fine; normal range: 0.5-1.8. Yours: 1.6), so we had no reason to think things were getting bad.

We started taking away water from our bedside table and they gave you some medicine. We also made sure to take you out late at night right before bed and then first thing in the morning when we woke up. It seemed to have fixed the issue, so we didn't think any more of it.

On March 7, we had a party and many friends came over. We made sure to take you on a nice long walk beforehand so you could get some energy out. You got lots of pets and plenty of attention all night long. You had a great day.

On March 9, you started vomiting. You stopped eating. You started spending a lot of time curled up in your pineapple bed, clearly not feeling well.

We took you to the vet later that week. You had vomited a few more times, but you were still drinking water and seemed alert. They did blood work, but it was the weekend, so we wouldn't hear back until Monday.

On Monday morning, the vet called. The news was very bad.

We took you to the animal emergency hospital on March 16 where they put you on a 24/7 IV. Your kidney values were off the charts (BUN >200, creatinine >9). Our best hope was that you had an infection and flushing your system would help you recover. The prognosis seemed grim, though.

Claire came to visit you that evening. She spent lots of time petting you and loving you.

I stayed home with Eliza. I wish I had come to see you when Claire got home. I wish so much that I could spend one more minute with you.

We both came to see you the next morning. We got thirty minutes in a room together. We held you and told you how much we loved you. It was clear that you were feeling very sick.

The vet told us to call after noon because they'd have the new results from your daily blood tests. We left and waited a few hours until we'd get those results.

When we called, the vet told us that things looked really bad. After 24 hours of IV treatment, your kidney values were still too high for their machine to even measure. To make matters worse, you had anemia which was progressing since your kidneys weren't working properly, which meant the IV was just diluting your blood.

The only thing the vet could do would be to give you a blood transfusion. While it may have helped you feel better in the short term, at best it would have given you a few weeks before you'd start feeling horrible again since your kidneys could no longer function properly. There was nothing more we could do.

I called to schedule an appointment for at-home euthanasia. They said they'd arrive by 5pm.

We checked you out of the animal hospital at 2pm. I know you never liked the vet. I told you we'd never bring you back, so you could be happy about that.

We tried to make your last few hours perfect for you.

It had been raining all week, but shortly before we arrived home, the clouds parted and we got some sun for the first time in days. You didn't like the rain, so that was nice.

We went on a long walk with you on your favorite route. You were too weak to walk at this point, though, so I carried you the whole way. We sniffed the bushes. We went to the lookout. We crossed the bridge. We walked down Main Street. We stopped in the pet store to get a toy. We crossed back towards home two blocks before the vet so you wouldn't get stressed about being anywhere near it.

We tried to give you any sort of food you loved... peanut butter, cheese, treats. You wouldn't eat any of it. It broke my heart to know you still felt so bad you wouldn't eat any of your favorite things.

It was nice and sunny. We went upstairs, opened the blinds, and lounged on the bed, just like you loved to do. We sat there for an hour, just petting you and telling you how much we loved you. You were trembling, which also made my heart break. I wanted the pain to be over for you.

At one point you seemed to find some peace and you laid down on my chest with your eyes closed. It was like you fell asleep on me like you used to. I took a picture and I have it taped up on my desk. I look at it all the time and think of you.

I went to pick up Eliza from daycare. When we got back, there was a package from the Millers. They knew you weren't feeling well so they sent a toy chicken to you. One of your favorites. For a few short seconds, some life sprung into you and you tried to play with the chicken. You got tired again, though, and it seemed like you couldn't decide if you wanted to play or just sit down again.

I told you, "It's okay buddy. We'll play later."

It was 5pm now. The vet arrived. I took Eliza next door so we could be alone with you. We spent a few more minutes telling you about how much better you made our lives. We sat in front of the fireplace with you in our laps. Your favorite place in the world.

You got a shot to make you relaxed and happy. Your little legs twitched a couple times, and I imagined you dreaming about chasing rabbits around the yard like when you were younger.

Then you got the second shot. And with that, it felt like a massive chapter in my life ended.

I love you, Petey.

In the following week, I felt like it wasn't real. You were still around us. I said, "It's like he's always in the next room. I can never be in the same room again, but I just know in my heart, it's like he's sleeping one room away, waiting for us to come get him."

I miss you so much, Petey.

We got your urn back a week later. I'm so grateful to still have that piece of you. I tell you good morning every day when I get up. I tell you I miss you and I love you every time I pass it. I come by just to say hi when I'm feeling sad.

It's not fair. I know that's just how life goes, but it doesn't make it hurt less. I wanted you to be Eliza's first dog. You will always have that honor, but it hurts me that when she grows up, she won't remember you since she's so young. Even then, I can always tell her that one of her first words was, "Dog!" She'd shout it every time you walked into the room.

Claire had said, "It was always us and Petey," but I corrected her, "No, it was always us. But 'us' included Petey."

You were so much more than a pet. You were our family. I will never forget you. From the children we saw on walks to the many travelers greeting you in airports, you left a lasting impression on everyone you met.

Petey, you made life brighter for me. I thought I had more time. You showed us so much unconditional love. I hope you felt a fraction of it back.

I love you, Petey, and I miss you so much. We'll play later.

Today we put our dog to sleep. He was 10 years old and only a year old when we rescued him. He was always on the look out and making sure we were safe. lots of energy and lots of love. He had a bone cancer that was causing him a lot of pain and shattered his leg. long story short his house of cards was coming down.

I know time heals all wounds but time has a funny way of slowing down at the worst of times. I'm sad and empty without him but I know he isn't suffering any longer, and that he knows that he never wavered from his post.

love you forever buddy ❤️