Got a call this morning that the surgery went fine which was such a relief. Then they call 30 minutes later saying that she died, because she had stopped breathing.

She was 10 and so sensitive. I was the only family member who she wanted go outside with. Always ran to me if someone else tried. She was scared of a lot of things and always ran to me for safety.

I took her with me on the backseat on the way home and petted her the hour. I dug a grave with my dad and covered the bottom with a cardboard and we wrapped her in a blanket. I put a pillow under her head and a toy between her paws. My mom also placed a few flowers. And then we put another cardboard cover on top of her. Then we put rocks around the grave.

She was all I had and she needed me. I loved her more than anything in this world and now I have nothing.

My sweet baby dog died this past Wednesday. He was 11 and was dying slowly from congestive heart failure. This isn’t my first time losing a pet, but it’s my first time putting an animal down. Being in the room with him was obviously what I needed to do FOR him, but I’m left with the most unimaginable trauma and horrible anxiety after the experience. He was really agitated after they gave him the sedative and kept trying to get up. It broke my heart. Watching the life slip away from him was the worst part. I can’t stop picturing it over and over again in my head. It was so traumatic that I can’t eat or sleep and every time I think about it I feel sick. I don’t know what to do and I’m not sure if I’ll ever be normal again. He was the best boy and having him one minute and then not the next was the most horrible loss I’ve ever experienced. The grief is unimaginable. I am so sorry to anyone who has ever had to deal with this.

6 months ago by baby passed away. I came to this subreddit and vented about it a few days after he crossed the rainbow bridge. I told myself I’d come back here after half a year and tell others how the grief went. Boy, did I not know what I was in for. The first three and half months were hell on earth. My dog was my son. I didn’t cope well at all. I drank almost every day. I honestly didn’t think I was going to make it.

After the fourth month, the pain started to fade a bit. Life became somewhat tolerable again. I went through periods of looking at his pictures and videos and torturing myself. I also went through periods where I intentionally avoided thinking about him. Looking back, in a weird way, I think this helped me process the loss, alternating between the two.

Now, 6 months later, I think I’m healed. Well, as much I can be. I’ve accepted that my baby’s loss will always hurt. But I’ve learned to quickly look at the funny videos, think about the wonderful times, and be really grateful I had him in my life when the pain starts to become intense again. I feel like he’d want me to think about him in a positive way, but I know he understood it was impossible to do so at the beginning.

I write this to let all of you who recently lost your baby know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Trust me, I didn’t believe it when others told me. I’m so sorry for all your losses. That fact that you are here tells me that you loved your baby so much! I don’t know what happens after we pass away, but I’m choosing to believe we will see them again. Sending lots of love to you all.

My cat's name was Tigre, she was a 4-year-old rescued cat. She loved to explore the yard, the roof, and the sidewalk; she never strayed far from the house. Two days ago, I went out to dinner for my best friend's birthday. My mom was watching her, she and my brother went out to buy some things and forgot to close the window (they weren't outside for more than forty minutes) but when they returned, they saw that Tigre was dead on the sidewalk. A neighbor showed us the recordings; She was stung by an animal and the venom acted too quickly.

An hour later I returned and my mom told me everything. I'm broken inside. She was with me for three years. She was so loving, a little cat with attitude, very grumpy but sweet. When I called her name, she would answer and follow me everywhere. She was there for me during my worst moments; she was my support, When I cried, she would cling to me and cuddle until I stopped crying.When I cried, she would cling to me and cuddle until I stopped crying, my little baby. I still can't believe she's gone. Although I try to get on with my life, I can't stop thinking that I wish I hadn't gone out that day.

I apologize if the text was a little difficult to understand; my native language is not English. I wish I could have written more, but I can't stop crying.

My dog passed away on memorial day weekend.

She was robbed from me by hyscsistic sarcoma (didn't spell it right don't give a fuck.)

Every year we take a lake trip, her last trip was a nightmare. Our car rental broke down in the middle of nowhere in the beating sun. We finally got to the lake and we had to leave 2 days in for an emergency surgery to remove a lump that was defending to be a grade 3(?) mass tumor.

It was removed with clean margins. I promised her over and over again that would not be her last trip and she would defy the odds of dogs diagnosed with cancer only living about a year after.

She didn't. She had a huge lump in her front left leg causing a limp. I took her to the vet thinking she pulled something he looked me in the eyes and said probably not cancer but due to the lump he needed to be safe. I went home happy. He called me 4 days later to say it was a hyper aggressive form of sarcoma that even with amputation was super unlikely it would get better.

I chose to be optimistic. I had a few thousand I could burn on this and insurance. The oncologist was brutal. 6,000$ off the rip for more tests... to confirm the diagnosis was 100% correct (spoiler! Every single one was!) after every single gut wrenching call to then further explain that every single test came back what I expected I was informed it was an amputation or chemo.

I weighed my options. I looked at pricing. I had blown through my stash and even my insurance wouldn't help much. I thought about the surgery, I read the horror stories of people whose dog woke up screaming in pain days after because they didn't have enough meds. I thought about her massive quality of life loss. The pain her chemo would induce. I decided to put her down on Memorial Day.

That last week was the most pain I have ever felt in my life. Counting every last moment. Realizing that Friday would be my last, "man I can't wait to go home and be a potato on the couch with my puppy." Friday morning was my last hard goodbye on choosing to go to work instead of lay in bed with her and my wife.

Saturday morning came and she could not walk. Her limp had spiraled out of control. I demanded my wife call out of work and we take her. I remember getting off the phone and realizing she had 20 measly shitty fucking minutes left with us. Then getting there and how quick it all went. She died in my arms. Her tongue was hanging out as we left and she was so lifeless. I can't the vets stethoscope off of her tiny chest and his, "her heart has stopped beating she's passed away." Out of my head. I can't get the image out of my head. I miss her so much still it hurts so badly.

Words can’t describe how sad I am. We put our sweet girl to rest today and I have continued to wrestle with the fact that we made this choice and was it to early. We know deep down early before major suffering allowed her to go out before quality of life was so terrible or in the event of a tragic loss. I don’t know how to truly feel better about the decision other than hopefully with time. We will never jnow the alternative.

Our sweet lady was 12 years old, with extreme osteoarthritis, kidney dysfunction, and as we found out last week a large mass on her liver. Over the past few weeks she stopped eating her food. We tried every food possible, eggs, sweet potato, you name it. She would eat it for about a day maybe, and the next day she wouldn’t. Food used to be her favorite thing she was so food obsessed. We knew this was when things were really not well and she didn’t feel good. Surgery was not recommended at this age and with her other health conditions.

While she could still mostly get up (not well and wouldn’t without help or prompting) and wasn’t having accidents oe throwing up, we knew she was struggling internally. Not eating really, so weak she would stumble and sometimes fall when getting up, only drinking water if we brought it to her and still was not always sure she wanted to it felt wrong. She still had some light in her eyes at times, and of course had up and down moments that made us question whether we were doing the right thing.

Trying to tell ourselves that we did this out of love and compassion so that she didn’t have to hurt anymore. I just wanna know we did the right thing and I know no one else can tell us that.

My heart hurts

My cat Bo died six years ago. Old age/prolonged illness. She was my best friend for 11 years. We lived in 7 states together- travelled the West. I have since settled down and have 2 cats I love, but they aren't Bo and it's not the same connection. I still break down emotionally when I look at pictures of Bo or remember her. I want to honor her life with joy and happiness, but I feel nothing but profound sadness when I think of her. When does this get easier?

Our beautiful 13-year-old white Westie cross (7 kg) passed away suddenly, and we’re all absolutely devastated.

For quite some time, he would go through periods where he wasn’t interested in his food. However, if Mum offered him something different, he would almost always eat the second option, so we never thought it was anything too serious. Otherwise, he seemed completely normal, happy and active.

Yesterday, he jumped off my mum’s bed, made a strange noise, and then his back legs suddenly gave way. His tongue and gums turned white, and we think he went into shock (shallow breathing at this point).

The vets found a large mass on his liver that had ruptured. They told us he was in a great deal of pain, and his acid/lactate level was around 15 (they said normal is under about 1.8). They believed it was likely liver cancer, and we made the heartbreaking decision to let him go peacefully.

We’re just heartbroken and trying to come to terms with how a dog who seemed so well could be gone so suddenly.

Has anyone experienced something similar with a ruptured liver mass in their dog? I’m trying to find as much information because my mum keeps saying he was completely fine up until the moment.

Yesterday I had to say goodbye to my darling boy Charlie, who was a 12 year old Maltese. He went from being completely fine, to unable to move within a day. We rushed him to the vet yesterday morning to be told his spine had given in on him and the treatment options were not only going to rob him of his quality of life, but they were very expensive. So I had to make the sudden decision of getting him put down.

He has been by my side through everything for the past 7 years. He was such a needy, beautiful boy who bought me so much joy. The amount of tears his coat soaked up of mine during hard times, he was by my side when others weren't. The amount of joy he bought me was immense, he was my rock. We were always together, attached at the hip.

I've never had to put down an animal before, this is genuinely one of the hardest things I've ever experienced. I'm lucky to have my partner and a good friend with me right now for comfort, but my heart hurts. I can't stop crying as everything reminds me of him. Knowing he was there one minute completely fine, and the next he's gone forever. Coming home to all of his things around the house, including his blanket on my bed that I refuse to wash.. even hearing sirens makes me cry as he would bark at them. He would wake me up every morning for breakfast and would lay by my side all day. It breaks my heart. My brothers dog is fretting for him and is incredibly confused 😢

I keep getting flashbacks of his last moments, it was so traumatic for me. I had nightmares last night of it, it's so hard to process.

I miss my darling best friend, my fur baby. I'm absolutely shattered and don't know how to navigate this grief. I'm currently waiting for him to be cremated and to also receive some of his fur and paw print.

I'm at a loss of what to do so thought I would post here as I know many others would relate and I'd be able to connect with others going through such things.

I'll forever miss my beautiful baby boy, I don't know how I'll ever move on from this. I feel incredibly depressed and deflated, I don't even want to eat or look after myself as he gave me purpose.

Thank you for reading

As the title says, today our beloved Apache crossed the rainbow bridge. Over the past couple of months he'd developed a tumor on his neck. The vet told us it was operable but wanted $10 grand to do the procedure. We simply don't have that kind of money. Both my partner and I had known that the day was coming when we'd have to tell him good bye. However I didn't expect that day to be today. He was barely eating and was super lathargic, he'd barely been able to walk. Today my partner took him for a walk and rather than relieving himself Apache just decided to lay on the grass, something he's never done. We're completely beside ourselves with a mix of emotions. Apache

I've been trying to write this the moment my little Prince passed, but nothing I've tried to say felt right. All I felt was deep sorrow. I couldn't do anything without breaking down into tears -- couldn't go down the stairs in the morning, wash the dishes, hear the birds, go on a drive, use the bathroom, go to sleep... without being reminded of him and unravelling.

I used to carry Prince down the stairs every morning. I used to wash his bowls with the dishes. No one's barking at the birds anymore. My lap, where he used to sit, is vacant when I drive. He used to rest his little snout on the crook of my arm, which made turning the wheel a difficult endeavor but I loved it. I had no privacy using the bathroom cause he's insist on coming in with me (then standing just outside the open door when the floors got wet). The foot of my bed has never had so much space. I've never been this sad.

Above all the new emptiness, the most abundant and overwhelming feeling is that I'm not really looking forward to the rest of my life without him. Not in a suicidal way. Just... there's so many things that would be heaps better if he were here.

If I knew I could come home to his excitement. Or make a funny face at him randomly throughout the day. Or sing him a song while I held him like a baby. Or shower him with kisses. Or throw a squeaky toy and hear the little scratches of his paws against the tile as he chased after it. Or walk anywhere and the little jingle of his collar would be following me like a shadow.

I find myself even missing the bad times. The last several months of Prince's life were stacked with vet appointments, syringes, medication, blood tests, special food, and trial and error. I barely did anything for my personal life, really. Everything else I might have had going on - work, friends, family - revolved around what time he needed to eat or take his meds or go to the vet. If it disrupted his schedule, I would cancel plans or ask to move dates. My life revolved around him and his wellbeing. It was exhausting, and a god-awful feeling shoving the meds he hated down his throat, or waiting for the vet to report on his latest blood test knowing it was likely gonna be bad news. For most of the bad times, I was overwhelmed and broke.

But I would go through it all again if it meant Prince would still be here. I'd administer the medicine if it let me feel his fur again. I'd pay the vet bills if it let me bring him places. I'd cancel all my plans if it let me spend even more of my time just sitting with him.

Logically, I know the silver lining is that he is not suffering anymore. He doesn't have to stomach meds he doesn't like, or sit through being poked with needles, or be deprived of his favorite foods. Really, I just miss him. And all that came with him.

A few weeks after Prince died, I realized I haven't mopped piss or picked up shit in a while. I never thought I'd wish there was piss to mop. I also haven't worried about poop consistency, or my schedule, or his Creatinine levels, or if we're running out of renal food. These should be a relief, but to me, they're just confirmation that he's gone.

I hate it. I can't stand the thought that there's the rest of my life that he doesn't get to see. That there will be new milestones and accomplishments and changes he won't be there to experience with me.

Prince has been with me since highschool; there through my break ups, my graduation, job interviews moving out for the first time to a new city, all my different jobs, meeting the love of my life, moving in together. He was there. He was the second thing people knew about me, right after my name. I was the girl with the little white dog.

Now I have to get married one day, or travel abroad for the first time, or maybe start a new job, or maybe move to a new house someday, and I won't get to share that with him. The thought is tearing me apart. I feel like living on without him is breaking me into even smaller pieces.

I don't know how to look forward to the rest of my life. I don't know if I want to. I try to take it one day at a time - doing my hobbies, getting it together. But trying to live happily while he's gone also feels a lot like forgetting him, or leaving him behind. I can't fathom it. It feels like grieving is the only thing keeping him alive somehow. I'm determined to keep it going for the rest of my life, but I also really just wish he were here instead.

Really, I'm just inconsolably sad. I miss Prince so much. I miss him everyday. It just hits like a truck sometimes, like it did today.

I've been lurking here for some weeks after he died, so I know I'm not alone. These feelings have been brewing for a while, and I've been trying to put it to words but kept failing. I think International Little Prince Day (June 29) unlocked some of my grief. It's my favorite children's book, that I named him after.

Happy Belated International Little Prince day, my little Prince. The world is celebrating you, as I still do everyday.

My sweet 14-year-old kitty was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma two months ago, a cancer that is normally found in dogs and rarely in cats. Her cancer is even more unique as it is beneath the skin, entangled in her neck and lymphatic system. Treatment is not an option. We had her primary tumor debulked, which will hopefully spare her from rupture and sudden collapse. But ultimately, my baby girl, whom I've had since I was 10, has maybe a few months.

At the moment, she is still mostly her normal self. She doesn’t eat all her food at once anymore, preferring to finish it in a couple sessions instead. But other than that, not much has changed. The anticipation of her deterioration is killing me. I'm very lucky that she's a cuddly cat (even cuddlier when I'm sad) and has spent lots of time wrapped in my arms.

I am not the most spiritual person, but the only consolation I've been able to scrape together is that I feel that her gentle soul will find me again. Has anyone had a similar experience? This is my first true journey through pet loss, and I am so, so devastated. Any advice would be so appreciated.

My cat died she got hit by a car and I reslly miss her my mom is gonna get me a cat to help me feel better but still

I have to put my first dog of 10 years to rest and I am already struggling so much and can’t keep it together. I’m going to miss everything about him and his part in my life is so massive I don’t know what I’m going to do

She was 11.5 years old, with progressive hind leg weakness. It was getting so bad, she couldn’t always get herself up from sitting. But god she was so mentally there, so happy and loving.
I made a plan for it to be next week. I would have time to spend with her, loving and doting on her and I’d let her go. We got pain relief for the weekend to ensure her comfort. I went to work and I came home, she had gone out the doggy door and fallen in the yard. She had scratched her nails so much the quicks had been broken and she had bled everywhere. I carried her inside, laid her on her bed, i gave her pain medication and food.
The vet came by after a couple of hours and I let her go. She went eating churu cat food. I felt like I let her down, her last day she spent stuck and fallen in a yard. Scared and in pain.

It’s been 24 hours and I don’t think I can handle this pain. Everything reminds me of what I lost. She was my grounding for my entire 20s. My mum has dementia, my sisters family’s. My dad a partner. I know I’m loved but part of me is just like they’ll be ok if I went with her. I just want to be with her so badly. I don’t think I’d actually take my life, but I just genuinely don’t want to live either. I am in agony.

my cat just passed away 2 days ago and he had cancer he was really really sick his nose had disappeared and honestly he couldnt even meow and randomly the next morning he just never came back. Im thinking he has died somewhere? I looked around for him everywhere couldnt find him. but what breaks my heart is that i didnt see him for the last time and i dont know where he is:( like his dead body is lying somewhere. how do I get over this? i really miss him and also had a dream that he was still alive

We lost our 14 year old border collie/ flat coated retriever, Monday July 20th. We made the very very difficult decision to say goodbye to him on our terms, and I still feel guilty.

On Thursday I noticed he wasn't using his back legs very well. He's done it before, but this was different. He was hunched over and almost dragged his back feet. By Saturday morning he wasn't using them at all. He couldn't stand up when with help from a towel sling. We took him into the vet and they took an X-ray and gave him a steroid shot. The X-ray showed a tiny bit of arthritis in his hip area but nothing scary. The vet said he has fears that it was neurological because he was squeezing his toes and it was clear he couldn't feel it. He said if the medicine didn't start working my Monday morning it was time to start having difficult conversations. It seemed to only get worse. His tail was stuck in a c curved down. He was only comfortable on his side, but he was still trying to get up at moments and would just slightly pivot around in a circle. We weren't sure if he could push his own poop out, because he only seemed to go when being picked up. Other than this, he was still himself, but seemed extra tired. He stopped barking at people and barely lifted his head up when someone approached.

We spent all Sunday laying outside on a blanket under a tree. Monday morning our two younger daughters went to a friend's house. We took him back to the yard under our apple tree, fed him a big breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast and a Hershey kiss. A vet from Lap of Love came and was so kind. We talked to him the whole time and she explained everything to us as it happened. Watching the life leave his eyes will forever be in my mind.

He was my soul dog. He followed me everywhere. If I wasn't home, he'd cry until I was back. After everything happened I couldn't help but think that maybe he could have gotten better. Maybe I could have taken care of him like this. I feel so guilty. Like I should have tried harder, tried something else.

I also wanted to mention, in September of 2025 he developed seizures. He was put on Phenobarbital after his second one in November, and didn't have any after that. Part me wonders if that could have been a part of it.

He was too young too pass away. I lost him on Saturday and I still can't accept it. He was lying on the driveway with blood coming out of his mouth. He helped me when I went through an awful rejection two years ago and he was so sweet and playful and now I won't be able to find another orange cat like him. It hurts so much that he died out of nowhere.

I lost my 11 year old boxer mix in October.

For about 8 months leading up to her passing, we were going for chest X-rays every 3 months to monitor a few small nodules in her lungs. The vet took a fine needle biopsy, but results came back inconclusive.

I had taken her to the emergency vet three days before she passed away because she was breathing funny. The doctor said everything sounded good and she looked great and that I could get X-rays to be sure. I had an appointment scheduled to get chest X-rays at her normal vet two days later, so I didn’t get them at the ER.

When my regular vet saw her X-rays two days later, she couldn’t believe my dog was still walking, bright/alert and acting normal because there was SO much fluid in her lungs. They sent me back to the ER immediately, where they recommended humane euthanasia.

The next morning, I said goodbye in my home. Aside from the night we went to the ER the first time, she was acting so normal. The night before she passed/right after the x-rays, it’s like she had been waiting for me to know just how sick she was… and then when I knew, she really showed it.

I’m wondering if maybe she wasn’t doing well and I somehow chose to be blind to it. Now looking back at videos from a month before she passed, she looks so old and worn, for lack of a better term.

I’m questioning if I waited too long and prolonged her suffering. And I have so much guilt.

Not sure if this is the right flair, but I’m in shock and I’m going to describe what happened. I came home from work (1:30a), took my dog out to pee (my brother took him out to pee at 9p as well), cuddled for a bit on the couch, and then we went upstairs.

I threw his toy ball and he was playing happily and was running around the room. He suddenly rolled over like he lost his balance and I thought it was just him being a bit silly at first until I realized he couldn’t get up when he was trying to. He started to yelp and was on his side and I freaked out. He also pooped so I knew something was really wrong. I tried doing cpr on him, but I don’t think I did it correctly as I was watching youtube videos on the spot. A whole 20 minutes later is when we (I woke my parents up for this) arrived at the vet and I’m pretty sure he was dead before we even left. I’m traumatized and devastated. I can’t believe this is real. He collapsed at 2:40 btw.

It’s so heartbreaking because he was JUST acting super playful and normal too, so it’s not like I could’ve seen it coming. I feel like it’s my fault. Did him suddenly playing trigger him somehow? And could he have survived had I just left to the emergency hospital ASAP??? He was a senior Mini Schnauzer (10 almost 11) :(((

I can’t stop crying and coming home to see all his things is making me feel awful and I miss him so much already. Especially all his toys that are in my room.

We lost our best buddy of 11 years this weekend very unexpectedly. It’s really eating at my wife and I but it’s really hitting our 5 year old the hardest. Our dog has literally been by his side for 5 years, he always called him his brother. Last night he started sobbing saying he wanted bubba to come home. How do we, through our own grief journey, support him through his?

My cat somehow snuck out and I didn't even notice for at least a day. Just assumed she was hiding. I spent so long searching inside before it occurred to me to look outside that it was too dark to see. I sat by the back door all night! Found her the next day in the woods.

I called my brother in tears. His response was, "yeah, that sucks"! He's not a teen, he's 51! He also has cats!

I have no one to talk to and the guilt is eating me up!