Your Pet Loss Diaries

July 17, 2011

by Tom Martin
(Beaufort SC USA)

All I have left of Sam's life are the photos I took of her while she slept in our bed, rode in our car, and anything in between. I have her bowls, her brushes, her bed, and her collar is on my car mirror, and her tags are on my key chain. I can't part with them.

I'm glad I have them, but it just hurts so much because the wonderful thing was the love she gave me.

I have terrible guilt because I feel like I took the easy way out. She was sick, no idea what caused her to lose so much weight, but she was clearly starving to death but ate bowls and bowls of food every day. The money to do tests and pay for them was gone. I would have given her years off of my life if I could have.

I chose. Yes, I chose to end her life, and that's what I did. I ended her life. I prayed that she would die in her sleep, so I wouldn't have to end her life. I would still miss her terribly, but I wouldn't have the guilt.

I think she was hungry when we went to the vet's office that morning. There was a small morsel of meat loaf in her bowl, and she gobbled it down before we left. I pray the last thing she felt wasn't hunger. How will I ever know?

I miss her so much, and I'm so very angry that pet care is so d*** expensive. I wish I could have done more!

Worst of all, my faith in "the afterlife" is waning rapidly. I think we humans have made up a really fine story about the afterlife to comfort ourselves when someone we love dies.

But she's gone, and if someone told me I did the wrong thing, I still couldn't undo it. Or the right thing.

I will always love you, Sam, beautiful girl.

Your human,

Tom