<p>Berurah-
When Nikki died, the vet made a plaster imprint of his paw, wrote his name in the plaster (its about 4’ in diameter or so) and gave it to us to keep. It sits, with his doggy tag attached, by a photo of him on a shelf in our den. It is very special, and I highly recommend you get one.</p>
<p>lifting up a prayer right now…for peace for all of you in this.</p>
<p>I know Patch will have that, and he has been one very lucky dog.</p>
<p>jym: that is a wonderful idea…our old pooch still lives in our memories and stories and it has been nearly 10 years since she died…I would have loved the plaster pawprint.</p>
<p>jym~</p>
<p><em>THANK YOU</em> for the suggestion. I’m heading out now to get some plaster 'cause I don’t think our vet does this…My family thinks it’s a GREAT idea, and so do I!</p>
<p>love, ~berurah</p>
<p>Berurah,
When my 17 year old dog died I made a little “shrine” - it sounds dumb, but it was just one of those multi-picture photo frames. I enjoyed looking at all her pictures and picking out various ones for the “shrine.” Then I hung her collar and tags on, put it in a prominent spot, and we all enjoyed looking at it. Just a thought.</p>
<p>Sorry for your troubles.</p>
<p>So very, very sorry to hear your news. A year ago this last Thanksgiving we had to make this same terrible decision with our 14+ year old golden and many moons before that the same circumstance with our first golden (who also fell just short of his 15th birthday).</p>
<p>Certainly sounds like your guy has had a great life and you’ve done everything you can. If I can just be blunt ('cause I don’t know how you can sugar coat this)- just do whatever is best for Patch and no one else.</p>
<p>Here’s a little “prayer” that was passed on to me when we had to decide to “put down” our dear friend. Hope this helps in some way…</p>
<p>Treat me gently beloved master, and I will love you with a full and happy heart.</p>
<p>Show me patience and I will learn to understand your every word and action. I will even protect you with my life if yours is at any time in danger.</p>
<p>Speak to me often, for your voice is music to my ears and I await even the simple sound of your footsteps, knowing soon you will be near.</p>
<p>Shelter me from nature’s bitter cold and wet and I in return will warm your feet beside the hearth. Or, if life should be unkind, I will find a place of comfort for us both, for your pleasure is my dearest wish.</p>
<p>Play with me, for I seek your challenge just as I seek to please you. I will follow a thrown ball to the ends of the earth if you choose it and I will swim the seven seas just to see you smile.</p>
<p>Fill my bowl with fresh water and see that I’m well fed, for I cannot speak to ask you and am completely at your mercy. But my trust in you is so complete, I know you will never do me wrong.</p>
<p>And beloved master, when I grow old and the time comes to say farewell, hold me gently in your arms and I will go without a whimper. For with you I am safe and secure. A dog who gave love and received it with a grateful heart.</p>
<p>Berurah-
It really is a remarkably special memento. I am getting choked up just thinking about it, and we had it made - gosh- 2 yrs ago almost to the day (he died 2/5/05). I am sorry you have to go through this. </p>
<p>weenie-
A dear friend of mine bought a picture frame thing with revolving pictures ( you flip them around – its not a digital thing) . Anyway it sits on the coffee table. She took a bunch of pictures of our dog when she babysat for him, and presented this to me for my birthday. It is as wonderful as the plaster footprint.</p>
<p>Here’s the beginning of a poem by Rudyard Kipling, “The Power of the Dog”. It’s a bit long to print here, but the complete text is at <a href=“http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/kipling/power_of_dog.html[/url]”>http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/kipling/power_of_dog.html</a></p>
<p>There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.</p>
<hr>
<p>Rest easy, Patch. Good dog.</p>
<p>Moominmama, I can’t believe I have never read that poem. It is so true. I’m sitting here crying–thinking of Patch and my ones that are gone.</p>
<p>I’m sure everyone has read “The Rainbow Bridge”–but I always envision a reunion like it promises.
<a href=“http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rainbow_Bridge_(pets[/url])”>http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rainbow_Bridge_(pets)</a></p>
<p>I can’t write about this just yet as my heart is hurting too badly right now, but I will come back later this evening to tell you about it. Everything went as smoothly as possible, and I am absolutely, positively CERTAIN that we made the best decision.</p>
<p>much love to you all, ~berurah
p.s. <strong><em>THANK YOU</em></strong> for all of the beautiful sayings, prayers, and poems. They make me cry, but in the best possible way. You’re the BEST cyberfriends ANYONE could EVER have.</p>
<p>It was a loving act, berurah. Remember him well.</p>
<p>Berurah, I just read this thread and I’m so sorry for your loss of Patch. Reading over your updates I was really moved by you and your family’s love and concern for your pets–the post about Karma really touched me. </p>
<p>I had a dog growing up, but until we brought home our Lhasa Apso, over four years ago, I had almost forgotten what a wonderful source of (and outlet for) love a pet can be. Our Lhasa puppy helped turn 2 of our 3 kids from being absolutely terrified of dogs to being enthusiastic dog lovers. And even though she still has a little mischievous streak in her (my kids’ socks are a better chew toy than a nylabone anyday 
)she’s every bit a beloved member of our family.</p>
<p>Patch sounded like a very, very special pet and, in turn, he was obviously blessed to have spent his life in such a warm and caring family. Wishing you and your family comfort in memories of the happy times that you shared with Patch.</p>
<p>I am very sorry that you and your family had to go through this most difficult situation. Our beloved dog was diagnosed with terminal cancer last spring and dealing with her final days was one of the hardest things we have faced as a family. Our sadness lasted quite a while, and I still miss her and always will. I am now focusing on our new puppy and trying to enjoy the traits in the puppy that remind me of the dog we lost.</p>
<p>Berurah-- what a rough night. After your reports the last few days it’s not really a surprise, but it is very sad. </p>
<p>I was reading recently about a woman who said something to the effect of “it’s not the thought of dying that’s so hard, it’s the separation.” I think it’s one of the most perceptive things I’ve come across, and I think it can definitely apply to a beloved pet as well.</p>
<p>Until the kids came along, there was NO one who I spent as much time with as my dog. If I was home, he was next to me, and even came along to work sometimes. Losing Patch will probably leave a void in your household, but I also hope that your ‘found’ dog is a comfort to you and the children, whether she’s a temporary guest or more–
Last, you’ve probably seen it, but if not, you might want to look up the poem “The Rainbow Bridge” online-- as noted by mkm. Our vet’s staff sent it to us when I had my dog put down (also at 13) and it was very sweet.</p>
<p>God bless you and your family, Berurah. I am so sorry to hear of your loss.</p>
<p>Hi my dear friends~</p>
<p>Once again you have all come through for us in the most thoughtful and comforting ways. I have shared so much with you all about our journey through Patch’s two weeks since his accident that I feel it would not be right to leave out the final part. It is, after all, part of the story of his life…and of our lives as well.</p>
<p>As I told you earlier, we (my oldest D, her bf, and I) went to visit with Patch this a.m. It was a terribly difficult visit as we were counting down his “lasts”…such an emotional task as we who have had growing children and graduating seniors well know. My D and I were both pretty upset after the visit, but we managed to calm each other down, and I even convinced her to have lunch out with me. We needed the time together, and we managed to think and talk about some things unrelated to Patch’s situation.</p>
<p>When the kids got home from school, it was time to go to the vet’s. Our entire family (except my college son) went, along with D’s bf. When we got there, Patch was cleaned up and resting on a thick comforter. As soon as we saw him, we all broke down…all of the kids (including D’s bf) and dh and I were all crying. Each of us spent several minutes with him, caressing him, whispering to him, telling him how much we loved and cherished him and how glad we were to have had him in our lives for this past nearly 13 years. I took some pictures of him…alone, and then with each person individually. Normally, he’s not overly fond of having his picture taken, but today, he was <em>SO</em> good and patient and seemed to know that we needed to do this.</p>
<p>Per jym’s suggestion, I had gone to buy some plaster to take his paw prints, but I actually ended up finding this <em>really</em> neat set that had a double frame and some white clay-like stuff that you simply spread out in 1/2 of the frame. You then take the prints and bake it in the oven for 15 minutes to set it. In the other half of the frame, you can place a picture. I figured that this would be a wonderful memento for our family.</p>
<p>While the kids were visiting with Patch and feeding him his favorite treat…hots dogs…D’s bf and I rolled out the clay to prepare for taking Patch’s prints. The kennel attendants thought that was the <em>coolest</em> thing and I suggested to them that they might want to start a tradition of offering this for the people in our position. When we were finished telling our precious furry friend good bye and taking the pictures, the two kennel attendants gently picked up the entire blanket on which Patchy was resting and brought him into one of the rooms where they placed him on the table. </p>
<p>In all of the confusion of 10 people in the small room, it was hard to see what was going on, but one of the kennel attendants approached me and when I looked up to see what she was saying, her face was STREAMING with tears! Looking around, I noticed that the other attendant was also crying for Patchy. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me that the people who had been caring for him this past week had grown to love him so much. The woman who approached me said in a hoarse whisper, “Just watch that he doesn’t roll off the table,” and then she darted out quickly as she was really beginning to lose it Of course this made me lose it all the more.</p>
<p>We decided that this was a good time to take his paw prints, so I gently took first one paw and then the other in my hands and pressed them firmly into the white clay. I pressed on his paws firmly enough to get a good print, and I was afraid that he wouldn’t like that, but he was, once again, SO patient and accomodating. It’s like he just <em>KNEW</em> that this would mean a great deal to his family.</p>
<p>At this point, Patchy was at chest level for the kids, so they could hug him and place their little heads against his weary body. They comforted him, petted him, and again told him how very much they treasured them. We took a few more pictures with all of the kids and Patch, and then the vet came in.</p>
<p>He told us that any of us who wanted to could stay for the injection. None of the kids opted to stay, but my D had expressed to me that she wanted me to be there on her behalf as she feared that she didn’t have the strength, but she KNEW that we felt the identical way about Patchy, so it would comfort her to have me there. Dh wanted to be with Patchy and me, so he stayed too.</p>
<p>The vet gently and patiently explained the whole procedure. He said that he would be giving Patchy an injection that would first have the effect of an anesthesia and then stop his heart. He told us how Patchy might react, including the possibility of his having a final, gasping breath, and he told us not to be alarmed. When each of us had stroked him and kissed him one last time, we were finally ready.</p>
<p>The vet tied a tourniquet about Patchy’s slender arm and injected the medicine. Within seconds, he became still and relaxed, as if in the most pleasant of slumbers. The part that I was fearing, dreading really, that gasping breath–it never came. Instead, our precious Patchy drifted off softly and silently, the most serene look on his sweet face. His weary body was at rest at last, and there was an aura of peace surrounding him. </p>
<p>It was at that moment, at that very SECOND, that I realized fully and completely that we had made the right decision. It was the most ethical and humane thing that we could have done. Patch himself told us through his countenance and through his gentle surrender. This was the most precious and lasting gift he could have bestowed upon us…the knowledge that we had made the proper decision for so cherished a family member.</p>
<p>We stayed for a bit afterward. I asked the vet to cut a few tufts of his fur, both colors, for keepsakes, and the vet was happy to do so. He then left dh and me to say our final goodbyes. I leaned down and placed my body on Patch’s, holding him, taking in his shampoo-fresh scent. I laid my head across his soft fur and wept for this brave animal who had faced his own passing with such grace and dignity. Dh laid an arm across my back and stroked my hair.</p>
<p>After awhile, we gave Patch our final caresses and kisses and walked out to where our D and her bf were waiting for us. Our other D had taken the littles home already. </p>
<p>When we got home, I immediately baked the clay with the paw prints (we had also inscribed Patch’s name and his dates of birth/death in the clay). I printed out one of the pictures I took and placed it in the other half of the frame. This beautiful memento is now sitting on my computer stand, and even now, as I write this, I am glancing up periodically to see the face of our beloved Patchy and his darling little paw prints, set in clay. Jym, thanks again for this wonderful suggestion…this memento has already brought us much comfort.</p>
<p>Today was rough…one of our roughest ever as a family, but now, we feel that we are on the road to healing. The blessing of having been able to care for Patchy for the past 13 years will always be with us, and he will forever be a part of our famiily…and our family history.</p>
<p>Once again, I thank each and every one of your for your care and concern, the relief of our burden by your sharing in it, and the love you have shown to Patchy and to our family. </p>
<p>With much love, respect, and neverending gratitude, ~berurah, family, and menagerie</p>
<p>thank you for sharing berurah</p>
<p>Your story has been hard for me to read- but I wanted to share this site which was a comfort when our cats ( who were both in their 20s) died within a year or so of each other.
<a href=“404 file or page not found default page”>404 file or page not found default page;
<p>Thank you for letting us know about Patch, Berurah. I’m so sorry for your loss. I lost my two elderly dogs since my D started college and I can sympathize so much. We have two wonderful young dogs now, but you always still miss the ones who have gone on. </p>
<p>There is a lovely children’s book called Dog Heaven by Cynthia Rylant. Your family might like that. (I would send it to you if I knew your address!)</p>
<p>I suspected that there would be sad news when I checked on this tonight. So sorry about your loss. This must have been so hard for you to do this. But thank you for sharing your moving and beautiful good bye with us. It was the right thing to do. I’m glad that you have no doubts. Yes, that was a wonderful gift for Patches to give you, that peace of mind. He was truly a magnificent creature.</p>