Your pets...

[GirlzRule]

Post any stories about your pets here =3 (I didn't see a recently created thread for this, sorry though if it's a duplicate.)

I have one, but it's rather sad. Don't read it if you don't want to upset yourself.

~Cinder's Story~

Before my parents adopted me, it was just them in the house. My mom had cats ever since she was a little girl, and she missed them. So that Christmas, my dad adopted a kitten from a friend of his at work whose cat had given birth to kittens, and brought her home as a surprise present. My mom was ecstatic, naturally, and named her Cinders after her shiny grey fur. (Grey, not gray, it's much more elegant)

 

Cinders was soon joined by another cat who was much older than her. His name was Bluey, named after his pale blue eyes and white fur. He was my mom's mom's cat before she died, and he came into my parents' care because she had no other siblings besides her sister, who was violently allergic to cats.

 

A few years later, my parents adopted me. The very first day I came home, only three months old at the time, she came right up next to me on the couch and fell asleep. And so began the love of my first ever cat. I loved Cinders. Loved her so much. I played with her every day. I loved her so much. She'd come whenever I called her. I'd brush her fur and stack my stuffed animals on top of her and do little-kid things like that.

 

Unfortunately I don't remember Bluey, who passed away when I was two. He died at the ripe old age of twenty, which is like living to be one hundred if you're a person, so don't feel sorry for him.

 

One day when Cinders was about fourteen, I think, she was taken to the vet. I was seven. Cinders had cancer. My old cat, my one real, true friend practically my whole life was going to die.

 

She suffered. And suffered. We had to give her pills. She was dying. The cancer got so bad it came through her belly skin. She bled wherever she went, not that she went very far. My cat was in so much pain her last few weeks.

 

I knew my parents were anticipating Cinders' death. My dad had dug a hole out by the pine trees, my mom had lined a box with grey satin, lighter than her fur.

 

I remember the day she died. My mom decided it was time to put her out of her misery. I had school that day, it was Monday. Cinders always came when I called her, I wanted to say goodbye. She wouldn't come. I called and called for an hour and there was no trace of her anywhere.

 

My goodbye was a shaky yell "Goodbye, Cinders!" as my mom walked me out the door. It was snowing. Somewhere in my house, a cat waited to die. I cried and cried all day at school but my mom couldn't come get me.

 

She told me after school that Cinders was sitting right at the top of the stairs when she came home. Waiting to see me. I never got to see her again.

 

The hole wasn't big enough to fit the box, and the ground had frozen. My dad had to chop at the side of the hole with an axe. Dirt flew everywhere. I clung to my mom and cried.

 

Cinders has a lovely grave in our backyard now, lined with stones and flowers hand chosen and planted by my me and my parents, under the pine trees where she'll lay forever. She died at age fifteen.

I have two kitties and a puppy now and I love them with all my heart. Got them at the same time, about two months after Cinders died. One's a boy named Butter, and one's a girl named China. The puppy's name is Hershey. Butter's a mutt, China's a half Siamese, and Hershey is a purebred Brittany Spaniel who we got extremely cheap because he was the runt.

My kitties are three months apart in age, they're five now. Hershey is about fifteen months now. He's more than a year old, meaning he's an adult dog now, but he'll always be our puppy.

Animals aren't just pets. They're family, treat them like it. Remember to love them with all your heart <3

 

[IlyaneYanie]

I was literally crying.. My cat... oh dear!

__________________________________

~Bobby~

---

Bobby, Short for Robert Deniro.

Bobby was a beautiful cat with soft, Black fur on his back, and his other parts were white and fluffy. His eyes were a beautiful hazel. Bobby wasn't an ordinary cat, though. He was... special.

 

He was more like a watchdog, or it's called a watchcat. I was SUPER young, and my cat stayed in my room in front of the bed, and if anyone decided to abuse me in any way, Bobby would come up right to attack. It was like he was protecting me, and would turn against its owner(My mom, or my brother) If they hurt me in any way.

 

We soon grew up together, I would comb him all the time. Whenever Bobby got sick I would mourn for hours and hours. He was my brother. I would go to school constantly bragging about my wonderful cat, and how he was my brother. Only two of them believed me, and got to see him. But they didn't see the good side, he just hissed and hissed as he tried to protect me...

 

But when that dreadful day came I decided the world was over for me. And my mom was the one to blame. Why? She decided the cat was stupid and dumb because it would urine and stuff all around the house, and my brothers slapped him, and my mom even worse. She brought him to the vet and they decided to... yeah.

 

And my mom asked me the following night, "Do you hate me?" I wanted to mutter a "yes" but I knew it wasn't true, I was just angry at her... But I screamed and screamed as I tried to calm myself, and finally I went downstairs, got a cup of hot water, (Okay I'm going to admit it, I'm scared of water in my face) and splashed it. I felt refreshed, but also very scared, but it calmed me down. But I was still banging my head against the wall, in anger...

 

The worst part was to go downstairs and usually see my cat running around in the night... But that time, it felt the house was in immense darkness, and... the cat wasn't there. It felt like Bobby had betrayed me, But actually, sometimes I still see the silhouette of my cat scrambling around. It's really neat, and I see him in my dreams, everywhere I go he follows me, which is pretty much why I blank out in school.

 

For his memorial, about 2 years after I made a hankercheif to wipe my tears when I was sad, and it literally soaked my feelings.

Another sad story... about a FISH.

_____________________________

2 fish actually.

---

One day year old Goldeen (Pokemon X3)

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She died of being greedy, but I loved her.

---

5 month year old Sapphire

---

Loved her very much, knew how to do tricks, nibbles your finger. Doesn't really have a story.

 

[`Krystal]

I read both of your stories. Bluey, Cinder, and Bobby sounded wonderful.

Me? I've had several pets in my life, but the most important to me was Tessie.

Tessie;

Oh, gosh, where do I start? Tessie.. an absolutely beautiful Golden Retriever. She'd been with me for as long as I can remember. I have a picture of her and me. I was probably only 6 years old, and she was a little puppy sleeping in my lap. The smile on my face really showed how much I loved her. How much I still love her.

 

We played all the time. She was like a sister to me. If she was outside and I wasn't, she'd claw and the door because she wanted to come inside where her 'family' was. It was adorable. We loved her.

 

She was a typical dog. She begged, she did things she wasn't supposed to, she cuddled, she chewed on bones. But she was special. Really special. She had this.. personality. Just the way she looked at us sometimes when she wanted something was so funny. If she needed to go outside, she'd come up to us and stare. If she knew it was time to eat, she'd come up to us... and stare. Ah, we loved her.

 

In July 2007, on a very hot day, I noticed her breathing was a bit.. off. It was sharp, and almost struggled. I told my parents. My dad knew something wasn't right, so he took her to the vet. 'Please, oh God, no. I love her.'

 

Me, my older brother (Dustin), and my mom were at home. We got a call. It was my dad. Mom picked it up. Dustin and I waited for her to stop talking to Dad and tell us what happened. She hung up. She came to us and said quietly, "Tessie has some sort of cancer in her kidneys. Dad's going to take her to a specialist about an hour away." Dustin and I looked at each other. 'God, please. Save her. We love her.'

 

I went in the basement. The ugly, cold, wrecked basement. I couldn't stand it. I had to be away from it all. I sat down with my pet bunny that lived down there. I wasn't crying. Yet. I held back the tears, because I knew there was hope. What, with all the technology today, I thought maybe they could save her. The precious sister I love.

 

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't realize how long I'd been down there. Dustin, who at the time was 14 years old, came down in the basement with me. He talked to me for a little while. He's so much stronger than me, and that's what I needed. He took my hand and told me I should come back upstairs. So, we went back upstairs together. Mom was on the phone again. 'No..'

 

This time, I went in the bathroom. I splashed my face with some cold water and came back outside into the kitchen. I walked by my crying mom. No, bawling mom. I felt my throat tighten. Dustin came down the hall and, much stronger than my mom and I, said, "Tessie's dying. Dad's going to bring her home tonight so we can say goodbye, and then he's putting her down at the vet tomorrow morning."

 

Tears filled my eyes and poured down my cheeks. Dustin wrapped me in a warm embrace that reminded me that he felt the same pain. He just didn't show it. I never even saw him shed a tear, but I know it hurt. It still hurts..

 

I begged Mom to tell Dad just to put her down now. I didn't want to see her again. I couldn't cope with the pain. I didn't want to see my sweet sister sick. With cancer. But she didn't listen. So Dad brought her home. 'Dear God, why?'

 

Tessie was.. well, you could tell she had cancer. My heart felt like it had a knife lodged through it. I could barely touch her.

 

I don't even remember eating dinner that night. Dustin kept my mind off of it all for a little while. He helped me make a Tamagotchi seat out of clay (haha<3). I realized it was about bed time. I wanted to sleep in Dustin's room that night. I couldn't be alone. Tessie was in the living room with my mom before I went upstairs to go to bed. Dustin said he'd watch a movie with me. I walked slowly over to Tessie on the floor and collapsed. 'Why is this happening?' I stroked her golden face and placed a kiss on her head. Tears filled my eyes once more but I refused to let them fall. "Goodbye, Tessie. I love you." Choking on my own tears, I had to let them down.

 

While I was walking up the steps, my mom said, "Why don't you watch a funny movie with Dustin to cheer you up?"

'Yeah right,' I thought. But I quietly said, "Nothing can cheer me up..."

 

I gave my dad a hug goodnight and as I was walking away he said, "You okay, sweetie?"

"No," I whispered and went into Dustin's room.

 

We watched a movie and I fell asleep on my sleeping bag on his floor. I had nightmares all night. I knew Dad was taking her to the vet at about 8 AM the next morning.

 

I woke up. I felt sick to my stomach. I looked at my watch. 8:00. I heard his truck start, and drive away. I buried my face in my pillow and cried another good hour.

 

Princess Tessie, we called her. And she was nothing less.

Sorry that was so rambly. I really needed to get that out.

 

[GotchiGirl96]

Smokey

Smokey was a beagle. A fat, lazy beagle. He was such a mush. Never bit anyone, but would always howl and cry when he was alone. He hated being by himself. The living environment for Smokey was always changing. He lived with my Uncle a lot, but after my Uncle moved out of that house he stayed with my grandma. My grandma would always come down and visit us. She stayed for months at a time, and always brought Smokey with her. Sometimes, even after she left, Smokey would stay with us until my Uncle came to pick him up. So he didn't always live with us. He couldn't, really. We lived in an apartment. We were lucky that we got as much time with him there as we did.

 

Smokey had been with me my whole life. He was part of an average sized litter, and my grandfather owned his parents and bred them. All of the dogs in the litter were given away except for Smokey. He was really very cute. He loved food, and whenever someone was holding food in their hand he would jump up and start following them. When we fed him, he got so excited. I remember more than once his food bowl almost dropping out of my hand as Smokey would jump up and try to take it from me. He wasn't a bad dog, he just loved his food. We would jokingly call him a "chow hound."

 

I never remember him as a young dog. Considering he was born in the year 1987 and I was born in 1996, he was nine years my elder. He was already old when I was born. But he was always healthy. As he aged, however, he started having problem with incontinence and we stopped letting him in the living room where he could soil the carpet. He was confined to the kitchen and hallway. Our apartment was very small, and I always felt bad that he could only really be in one small room. I always played with him. Petting him, giving him treats. He was very calm. Didn't move around much while in the house. He was always sitting or laying. I remember him falling asleep on me once. So cute. He loved to go for walks, but he had trouble getting up and down the stairs of our apartment building. He had some arthritis, so that limited his mobility a bit.

 

When I was in third grade, I called my grandmother who was back at her own home with Smokey to wish her a happy birthday. It was then that she told me that Smokey was acting really sick and she was worried. I was worried too. My uncle took him to the vet where he stayed for treatment. I dont' remember anyone ever telling me exactly what was wrong with him. I don't think I wanted to know. The only thing I did know was that he was going downhill fast. We all knew it. He was seventeen years old. We all had the awful, gut wrenching feeling that he wouldn't make it. I cried for that entire week. On Monday, a week after hearing the news that he was sick, my parents told me that Smokey died in his sleep on the way home from the vet. At first, I couldn't feel anything. I didn't cry right away. I guess I had just accepted the fact that he was gone before, so hearing the news wasn't very surprising. But that night, it finally hit me. I cried every night for the next two weeks. The thing that haunted me the most was that I never got to say goodbye.

 

Smokey and I were very close. My parents, and my dad especially, didn't like him too much. I loved him the most, and I think he loved me too. I still have my memories, which helped me cope with his death. Now, when I think about Smokey, I'm filled with joy instead of sadness. It makes me smile instead of cry. I know he's been relieved of his pain and suffering. He's buried out back behind my grandmother's house (which we also live in now). I will always love Smokey. He brought joy to my life, and made my early childhood great. I miss him, but he will always be in my heart.

Writing all of that down, I actually started to cry a little bit. I haven't cried for Smokey since he died five years ago. Thanks for this topic. It feels good to recap all of these memories.

I never got another dog after that. I would love to have a dog or cat, but for now my parents won't let me. Smokey was the only pet I had ever had.

 

[SailorRosette]

Oh guys... I only had the heart to read the first one right now... Sad much. I'll come back and read your other stories.

Makes me miss my Ol Siamise Cat, Stinky... His real name was Toby. Then my dog Frekels...Cocker Spaniel.

 

[BurntSnow]

I'm sorry, SailorRossette, there's more.

Truffles

As a little kid, I always wanted a dog. Every day, I would come home from Preschool and just learn about another breed. It was actually very interesting to me. The only problem was that my dad was allergic and, well, he didn't want us to get a dog. My mom stayed out of it because she used to have a dog named Chompy, so she knew how much I would love a dog. It would be a perfect match- me and a dog. Finally, my dad cracked and said yes. I had to find a hypoallergenic dog, though. Online, I learned that the poodle was a dog that didn't shed. Also, it would have been best for the whole family if we got a toy poodle. So, we searched so many places for the perfect dog. The last place left was the internet, and that's the start of how I found Truffles.

 

We had contacted 3 places that were all about an hour away for a toy poodle. One didn't respond and one had just sold their last pup. The last place left was the home of a nice latino family that had a pooch with a bunch of problems.

 

When we got there, we saw that the puppy was very sad, slow moving, and had no tail. I was blinded the fact that I wanted a dog and begged for it, but my mom and uncle (dad couldn't come, he was at work) refused. We started driving back home when we got a phone call from the family that didn't respond. They said they had the whole litter left and told us their address.

 

Finally, we arrived. The puppies were so energetic, but one immediately bolted at me. I fell over the couch and he licked my face like a maniac. Before even saying hi, I said, "This is the one." Surprisingly, he was the only male of the litter. When I became calm, he slept in my lap. While my mother and uncle were discussing with the owners, the dog started licking my arm. Normally, I would be grossed out by this. And I did have a caution for dogs ever since an aggressive one tore my finger and tried to rip it off. This dog was just...calm. He was cute, sweet, and small. Therefore, we named him Truffles.

 

Truffles was an I-do-my-own-thing kind of dog. He wouldn't be trained and frankly, I didn't care. He had a great personality and his juvenile attitude towards everything made me laugh. Whenever there was a big day coming up and I would have to sleep, he would walk over me and then squish himself between my arm and the wall. When I wanted him on my bed, he would turn his back to me and sleep on the cold floor. No matter what, he was my dog and I loved him more than anything.

 

We had just started crate-training him. He hated it, but this was literally over the hundredth time he had bolted out the door. I had to chase him for 5 blocks with my neighbor. He needed some discipline. I wish we hadn't given it to him...

 

Truffles followed me from the door and rolled on his back out of nowhere. I had such a warm feeling inside. Normally, he would jump on me and try to bolt out the door. Then, when I would bend over to pick him up, he would roll over. Not this time. "See?" my mom said as I was walking out the door. "He just needs a bit of discipline." I lovingly said goodbye to Truffles while petting his head. That was the last goodbye I would give him.

 

The bell rung and I quickly grabbed my books, hurrying to leave. I just ran my way out of a detention. I walked down the stairs and instead of seeing my uncle pick me up, I saw my mom. This was unusual because she would be at work right now. "What are you doing here, Imale?" I asked. Imale just means mom in Hebrew. "Kaparanialecha jin, a mother can't visit her own son one day?" I still don't know what kaparaniawhatever means. She calls me that sometimes.

 

In the car, my mom spilled the beans. "Roey, I know that you're going to be able to handle this," my mom said, "but you're going to have to be mature. Truffles ran outside today." Tears started swelling up in my eyes. "Instead of going right, he went left. Where the cars are. He ran across the street to visit the fire department again, but he got hit by a car." I started crying. "No, NO! Ima, is he still alive?!" I think I screamed that sentence. "He was alive. Avi got him right away and they drove him to the vet. He was totally paralyzed."

 

They had to put him down...

 

I finally got my best friend and that was the last I had ever seen of him.

 

I have a new dog now, but I'll never forget my first. Truffles.

 

[GirlzRule]

All such sad stories...

Cinders, Bluey, Bobby, Goldeen, Sapphire, Tessie, Smokey, Toby, Frekles, Truffles, and all other animals that have passed on, this post is for you.

Imagine you're three again. Still young, still innocent, still a child.

 

Think of life as a museum, with exhibits all around on the walls. A lot of people are in front of you, and a lot are behind you. Some are ones you love, some are ones you hate, some are ones you don't really know.

 

Everyone is in a single file line, looking at an exhibit and then moving on to the next. Then they exit through the big scary double doors at the end of the room. But it looks so far away, it will be a long time before you reach them. A long, long time.

 

People walk through the doors all the time. You don't really consider it, it happens all the time.

 

Suddenly you look up and...where's Grandpa? You start to cry, not knowing where he went. And now Grandma's gone, too. And Aunt Abigail, your best friend Joey, Mom and Dad...

 

And now it's your turn. You look at the last exhibit and take a glance back at everyone behind you. You can't believe you made it through the room and now you're leaving. You can't believe everything you've seen and how much you know.

 

And then you walk through the doors into the next room.

"I'm not gone, I'm in the next room, and I'll be waiting for you until you can join me."

 

~Some Dude Who Wrote A Book

 

[TamaMum]

I don't have a very long story to post.

Last Friday I visited a Dog Rescue centre with my family. It's based on a large farm about an hour and a half by car from our home.

We saw several dogs that we liked but our favorites were either already reserved or had problems with behaviour that we thought we would not be able to take on - except Charlie.

We went back to the centre on the Sunday and took Charlie out for a long walk around the farm. He is a stray dog, approx. 8 yrs old, a Golden Retriever and he had problems controlling his instinct to "chase" - ducks, squirrels - basically very strong gun dog instincts, so he would need a lot of re-call training.

After a long walk and lengthy consideration (about 15 minutes...) we adopted him.

We collect Charlie from the rehoming centre on Sunday, so I suppose you could say that a new chapter in his life story starts this weekend

 

[GirlzRule]

Ahh...<3 He's so cute!

I'm certain Charlie has a wonderful home with you now <3