Quite Possibly the Most Touching and Saddest Photo I've Ever Seen - Page 2
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Thread: Quite Possibly the Most Touching and Saddest Photo I've Ever Seen

  1. #11
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    It'll be really sad when Molly, my black lab, passes. She's starting to get old. Funny thing, though, I got too old to hunt waterfowl before she did. We still hunt doves, though. That ain't so athletic.
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  2. #12
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    It is sad. I agree 100%. I just lost mine 2 weeks ago. I still get weak knees.

  3. #13
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    Quote Originally Posted by holster View Post
    It is sad. I agree 100%. I just lost mine 2 weeks ago. I still get weak knees.
    Some of the hardest things we go through. My condolences.
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  5. #14
    cnj
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    Jesus. I should have never opened this thread. My last loss was a color-headed white Sheltie, and the coolest Main Coon cat ever. And I am not a cat person. Now I am weeping like a little baby. We now have a sweet little Huski-mo (Husky/American Eskimo) girl and a very loving Shussie (Sheltie/Australian Shepherd) boy, and I simply don't know how I will ever be able to deal with the loss when they go.
    Last edited by cnj; 02-16-2020 at 06:47 PM.
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  6. #15
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    I can't get my photos to post.

    Keeps saying "broken image".
    Last edited by lurpdog; 02-17-2020 at 09:42 PM.

  7. #16
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    Quote Originally Posted by lurpdog View Post
    We just lost (13 Feb 2020) our Chihuahua. She was a rescue, about 2-4 years old and we had her for 12 more years.

    She developed a case of doggy flu and even though she was drinking water, she lost most of her appetite.

    Three days of going to the vet for an IV each mornong and picking her up at 5:00.

    She was sitting on a potty pad on the bed, between my wife and I.

    She stood up, stretched and stood up on her hind legs, licked and kissed my wife, walked over to me and lay in my lap, and just quit breathing.

    Our baby was gone, without ever crying out, whimpering in pain or gasping for breath. She was just gone from this mortal life.

    Of course it's tough, but we'll live on with her, and the other Fur Babies we've lost over the decades, but without sadness, we'd never know happiness.

    Itzy Bitzy Baby Ladybug
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    We lost our chihuahua back in 2014. We had had him since birth when he looked like a dustball rolling down the hall. About 6 months before he died he went into heart failure and his heart muscle got stretched to twice normal size. He had a flailing mitral valve and with each heartbeat you could heal a loud honk and could feel the vibration on his chest. Treated this but it progressed and he developed seizures about a week before he died. Got up one morning and let him outside. He had a seizure at the door but got up and shook it off. Went for a bite of food then put him back up on his spot on the bed. He suddenly looked up into my wife's eyes, stood up and had a seizure and collapsed. He then looked up into my eyes with the look you would expect to see when someone knew they were gonna die. I grabbed him, hugged him and he took his last breath during the hug.
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    My favorite dog was the one I had to be talked and guilted into taking. My vet had a pet store next door to his office and any dumped pups and kittens would end up in there, along with the birds he actually was trying to sell. I went over there to buy food for my two almost 9 year old dogs, a yellow Lab and a Lab/Beagle mix. There were two strange looking pups there, a white and black brindle female, and a reddish brown and white male. My dogs seemed to have fun with the pups, and my vet's stepdaughter started working on me to take one of them, "Doc's gonna give them the needle, they're getting too big and eating a lot!", etc. Finally I cracked and took the male one. He was bizarre looking, and a whopping 14 pounds:

    His original name was going to be Popeye, due to the thick legs and because his eyes bugged in and out when he chewed and he chewed constantly. Since there were 2 other Popeyes in the neighborhood, we decided to go with the name of my first dog again, Gus. The first five days were rough, my Lab Joe wasn't a big fan at first:

    Thankfully, on the fifth day, he suddenly fell in love. Gus grew, one direction at a time. First he got longer and longer, looking like a big Dachshund with a rapidly growing head. He ended up almost exactly the same length as 96 pound Joe, but was a super skinny 35 pounds. Then he finally grew in height, to about 1" shorter than Joe at the shoulder, and a still skinny 45 pounds. Then almost overnight, the muscles came in, and he filled out to a rock hard 75 pounds with a massive head and neck. Even before he bulked up, he was amazingly strong, both in body and bite power. Just playing with him my friends could tell how crazy strong he was even when he was looking like a Dachshund. This pic is him at about 2 and a half, next to a beginning to fade Joe, and cowlike Blackie, and at 10 by himself:



    I could put my entire hand into that mouth, without touching the sides or the back of it with the bend in my wrist on his front teeth. Joe would go first at just shy of 13, Blackie at almost 14, and Gus aged very nicely, making it to almost 14 and a half. At that point, I was "waiting for the bomb to drop" and him to go from one thing or another. It was cancer, and less than two weeks after he was diagnosed, we put him down when he began acting strangely. He never showed any signs of pain, even though the vet said "If it was you and me, we would be screaming for morphine, Gus wants to go for a walk!". We gave him a lot of junk to eat, and he visited friends of ours who he had known over the years, and had about as nice a "sendoff" as was possible. My next dogs were much much less destructive, and super easy to housebreak, but Gus is the one I miss the most.
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    Lost my sisters 13 year old pug last week.Had babysat him since he was a pup and he lived with me for the last 6 or 7 years when she had to move and could no longer have pets.Pudgy was the dumbest pug I have ever had but you couldn't help but love him.He was the class clown who never listened but was also the happiest to see me when I got home.
    Ironically she was supposed to come pick him up that evening but she didn't show.Within an hour he went from fine to unable to stand on his own and laboring heavily trying to breathe.I gave him water with a syringe and stayed by his side until he quit breathing.He was struggling to breathe but when me or my two sons rubbed him his tail would wiggle.They were sad but got to say their goodbyes and each took a pic with him.That was a tough night.
    Now my lone rescue pug Gypsy has us all to herself and she is pushing 11 years old and has an occasional seizure.Not looking forward to that day.
    Vengeance is mine sayeth the .45

  10. #19
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    I've always liked this photo;

    "Can we play too?"

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