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4.5
First of all let me say that this is my first review of anything. However, I find that writing about this topic has helped me cope with the loss of my best friend.This book is not a cure, a solution, quick fix and most likely you will not agree with everything in it. Some chapters will not apply to your situation and who you are as a person. Reading it will most likely make you cry and maybe laugh a little. I read the reviews and I do not understand what the nit picking is about. This book was not written for us individually but I feel their is some good in this book for everyone. It may be 10 percent for some 90 percent for others and everywhere in between. If you have an open mind and want to try and start walking down the road to feeling better this will help to some degree. It provides perspective, that we are not alone and that the number one killer is GUILT. I knew subconsciously that my dog would most likely not outlive me. That a terrible day was in store for me at some point in my future and we never want that day to come even though we knew it was part of the deal from the start.I miss my companion more than air and I am very sad and do not have much motivation for anything else right now. It has been 2 weeks and I could have still had her here today with me, but would it be for the right reasons? For our own feelings we say of course what I did was wrong and I should not have given up on her. We say this because we feel so awful that it must have been the wrong decision. My wife says she knows in her heart that she did the right thing though it was the hardest thing she had to do in her entire life she is at peace with it. The fixer, problem solver in me is not so lucky and confident with what has transpired.My Scratchy loved looking out the window, car rides, going to the park, chasing bunnies, playing tug, steak, carrots, chocolate and hanging out on our roof deck. I spent the last day doing all the things she loved that she could still do and then did the unimaginable, I said goodbye and let her go to heaven. If deserving I will see her again.Until then she is immortalized in a oil on canvas painting, in a Humane Society calendar, on a wine bottle, a self made painting and hundreds of pictures.I have read this book and had e-mail communication with a pet-loss counselor over the past 2 weeks and though I am still very sad I feel that these outlets have helped make my days a bit better.Below is a bit of my story. It may help, it may not. If it does and you can relate or have more questions perhaps we can help each other and your comments and perspective are welcome.I never had a pet of my own growing up, nobody close to me had passed away and my worst day was when my dirty, torn blanky disappeared when I was 5. I was raised by my grandparents, never knew my dad and the thought of finding him or getting a pet were the furthest things from my mind. In 1997 I starting dating my future wife and had just moved into my own home. In 1998 she moved in with a bunny rabbit in tow. I did not really like the bunny and saw him as too much work, a distraction and his pee was stinky! She had him since college and I new it was going to be a tough road for me. Being the master problem solver I offered a solution. Can we find a good home for the bunny if we can get a dog?She agreed and with a Petsmart across the street from my job, I headed over for the first time and saw this black skinny 45lb shepard/lab mix with the biggest radar ears you have ever seen. She was there from the local Humane Society and something about her instantly drew me in. I went home got my girlfriend and went to to the Humane Society. She liked her as well and the deal was done. Her name was Jan at the shelter; however that did not fit so while in the car we provided her with her forever home and her forever name: "Scratchy". She had separation anxiety and being a new dog owner I was not even sure what that meant but I learned quickly. Our first 6 months together proved to be difficult at best. The problem solver (me) was feeling like I out smarted myself and almost wished the bunny was back. The door trim was destroyed, she houdinied her way out of her crates, bent them to be they were almost unusable without a master lock. Slid the tray out of the bottom, moved the entire crate across the room and would bolt out the door without warning at everything that moved. She pulled on her walks like a freight train and was a sensitive eater. We all made through and she became the most amazing companion and I cannot remember my life without her.In 2003 My Grandfather who was always there for me and who I depended on for so much of my life went to be with the lord. It was the first experience at 31 that I had with true loss and it was devastating. I developed health issues and I prayed daily that if the Lord could help with through this I can make it through anything life has in store for me. I did get through it but I was wrong.In a way Scratchy became me and I was my Grandfather. She depended on me and it was my job to be there for her, provide for her, give a warm place to sleep, food, walks, and playtime. Scratchy provided unconditional, nonjudgmental love in return. Neither parents nor kids are perfect but we do the best we can with what we have.Kids are suppose to outlive their parents, however dogs are with us for such a short time and medical science as is with people and pets can keep them alive much longer than they can provide a good quality of life. At 14+ a 70lb lab/shepard mix has lived a long life and i would have kept her going till the end.However my wife who saw things in a different light kept telling me that enough was enough. My poor Scratchy could no longer do the stairs, then was tripping and falling on her walks, then stopped getting up to greet us, needed my help to go potty and could no longer stand to eat. Her Arthritis was bad and her legs were weak. Mr. Problem solver (me) was trying everything and kept saying she is still having good days, please give it more time. My wife saw me as selfish and was stripping our Scratchy's dignity away from her and this is not how she should be remembered. I would have carried her anywhere and done anything, but was it for Scratchy or for me?Regardless, guilt steals our joy and our loving memories with poisonous thoughts that keep us in the dark. One more day was never going to be enough and whether it was one more week, or one more month the day I dreaded was coming soon one way or another. Either way guilt was right behind it. I do not feel we can escape it; however we must learn to fight it. Our best weapons are our happy memories, knowing we do not have to fight alone and time.Thanks for reading.
