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Remember Your Beloved Pet
Sadly, it was my father, the one who pride himself of finding me my sweet pet, that broke the story that Feist was no longer alive. I'm sickened with the image of my small, short-legged angel's lifeless body, with no emotion or wag in her tail. I don't understand this occurrence. I haven't experienced a death in a very long time with a loved one that I was truly close to and I can feel myself handling everything wrong. I am mad at the wrong people, I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I feel guilty lying to myself that everything will soon past. I know it will, but at this moment I can't contain my confusion.
It all ended when my father noticed a slight difference in Feist's behavior and her unusual change in appetite about three days ago. With his internal instinct, he took her into our local veterinarians office that same night around 7pm and by 7:30pm she was dead. He told me on the drive to the vets she was completely noiseless in the backseat and had a look of exhaustion in her eyes. He got her to the vet within ten minutes and placed her onto the table after being immediately checked in. The vet did the normal routine of reassuring everything was working properly: no dehydration, no breathing problems, no odd symptoms that could reflect that she was ill or sick. Nothing. But clearly something was wrong because within the half hour time frame Feist's eyes rolled back and she died.
The reason why I began this discussion is to gain some sort of assurance that horrific things like this happens. I feel like I have been living in the clouds, expecting nothing to ever change negatively. Then suddenly my best friend dies and my immediate response is mediocre at best as I can't even understand my own thoughts. And the worst part is...I wasn't even at my parents home when it happened. I couldn't say goodbye, or hug her, or feel sorry for her. All I could do is hear my dad balling his weak tears of guilt as he told me what happened and apologizing for not taking better care of Feist. My dad is so tender hearted, of course he would feel guilty. And I know he is only being a great father and taking larger sums of responsibility for his only daughter than he ought to, but I am upset. I wanted to be there for her. And at the same time, I want to completely forget this ever happened. I just don't want this to overshadow my collection of perspectives, but I am so mad because she didn't deserve to die.
My father said this is the price that we pay for loving someone. I hate that he said that. Because now I wonder, why should we love anyone?
I'm so sorry about Blue's health problems and it must have been hard watching your best friend go through any sort of pain, especially when you can't do anything about it. Even when we are given a warning of some kind when a pet becomes ill, I suppose we can never prepare or overcome the idea of losing them. But I have realized over the past few days that sad things like this happens, and although I don't feel like it was fair that I lost her so quickly in her young life, at least I know I loved her and treated her as an essential part of my family. I don't know if I will be ready any time soon to take on another dog or pet, but I know that I loved her greatly and she will be happy no matter where she is. And although I wish I could be with her, I know she was a happy dog and that motivates me to begin my acceptance with her death.
The only thing I really do wish is that Feist could of lived a much longer life, such as Missy's, and allowed a larger collection of memories for me to save. But unfortunately, unexpected things like this is just the pace of life. I'm still so upset about her and I think about her when I'm alone and can't help but cry! And I'm sure you're right about not being able to completely overcome her death, but I have noticed that I don't cry as long or as hard as I did when I first heard the news. I suppose this is what it means by forgetting it more and more as each day goes by.
I lost a beloved friend a few years ago. He was the best, most awesome cat I've ever met and he was my friend for almost eight years. He was still comparatively young when he died of Valley Fever and I couldn't even get him to a vet to save his life. I felt that I failed him and I had to watch him die. He taught me so much during his life though. In his death, he taught me one more thing- he's still not gone. I hold his memory within me. Sometimes, late at night, I feel him lying down beside me or feel his fur against my leg. My spouse senses him more often than I do but he's still very much a presence in our lives. He lives, so long as we honor his memory. It hurts to remember him but I am grateful for the short years we did have together.
Your love for Feist is still there, so in a way you are still together.
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