Our Heart's are Broken

[AprilLove]

I am so very sorry for your loss. It is hard to lose our little loved ones, and words can't always ease the pain, it is time that gently replaces this grief and sadness with all those happy memories from the years we spent with them. I understand the grief you are feeling. Big hugs, rest in Peace Bailey

[lisaly]

I am truly sorry for the loss of your sweet baby girl. I can tell how much you love her, and how painful it is for you without your Bailey at your side. We lost our baby girl, Ashley, four months ago right before her seventeenth birthday, so I understand how lost and sad you are without Bailey. Nothing could ever prepare you for a loss so great. Bailey will always occupy a big part of your heart, since love lasts forever. I hope that, in time, the memories of Bailey will comfort you and bring you happiness.

I hope these passages bring you a little peace.

Rites of Passage (from Chicken Soup For Dogs Lover's Soul)
By Robin Downing, D.V.M.

Some of the most poignant moments I spend as a veterinarian are those spent with my clients assisting the transition of my animal patients from this world to the next. When living becomes a burden, whether from pain or loss of normal functions, I can help a family by ensuring that their beloved pet has an easy passing. Making this final decision is painful, and I have often felt powerless to comfort the grieving owners. That was before I met Shane.

I had been called to examine a ten-year-old blue heeler named Belker who had developed a serious health problem. The dog's owners - Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane - were all very attached to Belker and they were hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family there were no miracles left for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for the four-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt Shane could learn something from the experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.

Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why." Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me - I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to live a good life - like loving everybody and being nice, right?" The four-year-old continued, "Well, animals already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."


Saying Farewell to a Faithful Pal (Philadelphia Inquirer 1/06/04)

John Grogan
In the gray of dawn, I found the shovel in the garage and walked down the hill to where the lawn meets the woods. There, beneath a wild cherry tree, I began to dig.The earth was loose and blessedly unfrozen, and the work went fast. It was odd being out in the backyard without Marley, the Labrador retriever who for 13 years made it his business to be tight by my side for every excursion out the door, whether to pick a tomato, pull a weed, or fetch the mail. And now here I was alone, digging him this hole.
“There will never be another dog like Marley,” my father said when I told him the news, that I finally had to put the old guy down. It was as close to a compliment as our pet ever received.
No one ever called him a great dog — or even a good dog. He was as wild as a banshee and as strong as a bull. He crashed joyously through life with a gusto most often associated with natural disasters.
He’s the only dog I’ve ever known to get expelled from obedience school.
Marley was a chewer of couches, a slasher of screens, a slinger of drool, a tipper of trash cans. He was so big he could eat off the kitchen table with all four paws planted on the floor — and did so whenever we weren’t looking.
Marley shredded more mattresses and dug through more drywall than I care to remember, almost always out of sheer terror brought on by his mortal enemy, thunder.
Cute but dumb.
He was a majestic animal, nearly 100 pounds of quivering muscle wrapped in a luxurious fur coat the color of straw. As for brains, let me just say he chased his tail till the day he died, apparently convinced he was on the verge of a major canine breakthrough.
That tail could clear a coffee table in one swipe. We lost track of the things he swallowed, including my wife’s gold necklace, which we eventually recovered, shinier than ever. We took him with us once to a chi-chi outdoor caf and tied him to the heavy wrought-iron table. Big mistake. Marley spotted a cute poodle and off he bounded, table in tow.
But his heart was pure.
When I brought my wife home from the doctor after our first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, that wild beast gently rested his blocky head in her lap and just whimpered. And when babies finally arrived, he somehow understood they were something special and let them climb all over him, tugging his ears and pulling out little fistfuls of fur. One day when a stranger tried to hold one of the children, our jolly giant showed a ferocity we never imagined was inside him.
As the years passed, Marley mellowed, and sleeping became his favorite pastime. By the end, his hearing was shot, his teeth were gone, his hips so riddled with arthritis he barely could stand. Despite the infirmities, he greeted each day with the mischievous glee that was his hallmark. Just days before his death, I caught him with his head stuck in the garbage pail.
Life lessons learned.
A person can learn a lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours.
Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things — a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in a shaft of winter sunlight. And as he grew old and achy, he taught me about optimism in the face of adversity.
Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty.
When his time came last week, I knelt beside him on the floor of the animal hospital, rubbing his gray snout as the veterinarian discussed cremation with me. No, I told her, I would be taking him home with me.
The next morning, our family would stand over the hole I had dug and say goodbye. The kids would tuck drawings in beside him. My wife would speak for us all when she’d say: “God, I’m going to miss that big, dumb lug.”
But now I had a few minutes with him before the doctor returned. I thought back over his 13 years — the destroyed furniture and goofy antics; the sloppy kisses and utter devotion. All in all, not a bad run.
I didn’t want him to leave this world believing all his bad press. I rested my forehead against his and said: “Marley, you are a great dog.”

[bellababy08]

Originally Posted by lisaly

I am truly sorry for the loss of your sweet baby girl. I can tell how much you love her, and how painful it is for you without your Bailey at your side. We lost our baby girl, Ashley, four months ago right before her seventeenth birthday, so I understand how lost and sad you are without Bailey. Nothing could ever prepare you for a loss so great. Bailey will always occupy a big part of your heart, since love lasts forever. I hope that, in time, the memories of Bailey will comfort you and bring you happiness.

I hope these passages bring you a little peace.

Saying Farewell to a Faithful Pal (Philadelphia Inquirer 1/06/04)

John Grogan


In the gray of dawn, I found the shovel in the garage and walked down the hill to where the lawn meets the woods. There, beneath a wild cherry tree, I began to dig.The earth was loose and blessedly unfrozen, and the work went fast. It was odd being out in the backyard without Marley, the Labrador retriever who for 13 years made it his business to be tight by my side for every excursion out the door, whether to pick a tomato, pull a weed, or fetch the mail. And now understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.

Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why." Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me - I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to live a good life - like loving everybody and being nice, right?" The four-year-old continued, "Well, animals already know here I was alone, digging him this hole.

“There will never be another dog like Marley,” my father said when I told him the news, that I finally had to put the old guy down. It was as close to a compliment as our pet ever received.


No one ever called him a great dog — or even a good dog. He was as wild as a banshee and as strong as a bull. He crashed joyously through life with a gusto most often associated with natural disasters.


He’s the only dog I’ve ever known to get expelled from obedience school.


Marley was a chewer of couches, a slasher of screens, a slinger of drool, a tipper of trash cans. He was so big he could eat off the kitchen table with all four paws planted on the floor — and did so whenever we weren’t looking.


Marley shredded more mattresses and dug through more drywall than I care to remember, almost always out of sheer terror brought on by his mortal enemy, thunder.


Cute but dumb.


He was a majestic animal, nearly 100 pounds of quivering muscle wrapped in a luxurious fur coat the color of straw. As for brains, let me just say he chased his tail till the day he died, apparently convinced he was on the verge of a major canine breakthrough.


That tail could clear a coffee table in one swipe. We lost track of the things he swallowed, including my wife’s gold necklace, which we eventually recovered, shinier than ever. We took him with us once to a chi-chi outdoor caf and tied him to the heavy wrought-iron table. Big mistake. Marley spotted a cute poodle and off he bounded, table in tow.


But his heart was pure.


When I brought my wife home from the doctor after our first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, that wild beast gently rested his blocky head in her lap and just whimpered. And when babies finally arrived, he somehow understood they were something special and let them climb all over him, tugging his ears and pulling out little fistfuls of fur. One day when a stranger tried to hold one of the children, our jolly giant showed a ferocity we never imagined was inside him.


As the years passed, Marley mellowed, and sleeping became his favorite pastime. By the end, his hearing was shot, his teeth were gone, his hips so riddled with arthritis he barely could stand. Despite the infirmities, he greeted each day with the mischievous glee that was his hallmark. Just days before his death, I caught him with his head stuck in the garbage pail.


Life lessons learned.


A person can learn a lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours.


Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things — a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in a shaft of winter sunlight. And as he grew old and achy, he taught me about optimism in the face of adversity.


Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty.


When his time came last week, I knelt beside him on the floor of the animal hospital, rubbing his gray snout as the veterinarian discussed cremation with me. No, I told her, I would be taking him home with me.


The next morning, our family would stand over the hole I had dug and say goodbye. The kids would tuck drawings in beside him. My wife would speak for us all when she’d say: “God, I’m going to miss that big, dumb lug.”


But now I had a few minutes with him before the doctor returned. I thought back over his 13 years — the destroyed furniture and goofy antics; the sloppy kisses and utter devotion. All in all, not a bad run.


I didn’t want him to leave this world believing all his bad press. I rested my forehead against his and said: “Marley, you are a great dog.”

Awww Thank you so much...and so sorry for your loss as well R.I.P Ashley. You know its never easy to loss a family member. I will heal in time and when I look thru all my photos of Bailey and think back at all the memories...I know it will bring laughter and not the tears that I have now...and Thank you for those passages you posted they are very heart warming and did bring some comfort...I love that movie Marley and Me...my daughter and I watch it everytime she comes to visit just about...and everytime we cry at the end so with that I say...Bailey, you are a great dog.

[miss_Khloe]

I'm sorry for you loss I know how hard it is to lose a furbaby. Just remember you were a great mommy to her and she had a good life

[miabellaamoure]

I am so sad to hear of the passing of your precious Bailey!
Hugs!

[lynnelily]

My heart is breaking for you. I had to make that decision in May for my 16 year old Holly. Not a day goes by that I don't think about her. I'm so sorry for your loss.

[roseslevi]

So sorry for your loss of Bailey.....sending

[anniernc]

I know your heart is breaking and I'm so sorry for you and your family. It's so hard to lose our little angels and life will never be the same without them. I hope sweet Bailey meets up with mine at the bridge and they have a grand ole time. My thougts and prayers are with you. Rest in Peace sweet baby girl.

[bellababy08]

Hello. I've been expecting you for quite some time.
Here, come sit beside us for awhile .
and let me tell you about this old friend of mine.

She might look tattered or maybe old
But I won't say goodbye until you've been told.
She had the brightest eyes I had ever seen, And wore a beautiful fur coat that would out shine a queen .
She was never prissy but walked with an aire ......
And oh so polite, you would take her most anywhere.
She could run like the wind and could catch anything she chased
But she protected and sat with me when I had problems to face.
You could not find a friend nearly so dear.
Because no matter the trouble she always stayed near... She has never asked for much from me;
Just to love and respect her and I think you'll agree .
To give her a good meal plus a nice warm bed is not much to ask ;
When she has given me all her love and to her this was no task.
Now I understand you have a schedule to keep.
But I have a small favor before she nods off to sleep.
Please fold your Wings around her and let her feel young while in no pain ;
Dear Guardian Angel of Pets ,
please keep her safe and happy until I see her again.

In Loving Memory of my sweet sweet baby girl!!
I miss you so much, no words can explain.
Bailey
March 8, 1996 - Oct 16, 2010

[celstu1]

I am so sorry for your loss. My heart aches for you. RIP sweet Bailey

[babbsiam44]

BB08 I am so sorry for the loss of your little Bailey. When I first opened this thread my heart sunk when I saw it was you who was the OP. I can see by your last post here that you are still hurting. I wish I could make you feel better.

Your friend...............Barbara

[Jinger]

I'm so sorry for your loss. Such a terrible thing.

[bellababy08]

Its been 5 mos now but I still miss her so much, words just can not explain.

She was my first Yorkie and only Yorkie for 12 years than I got Bella in 2008...for 12 years I didn't think I had enough love for another cause we just loved her so much...Hubby was really upset with me when I got Bella, he wouldn't even look at her in fear of cheating on Bailey LOL...but he learnt just as I did, we had enough love for all...Our Bailey went to Rainbow Bridge Oct 16, 2010. I just wanna keep her memory alive here on YT and in our heart. She was the best dog ever!! and deserves nothing but the best!! then and now.

[Buster Brown]

What a beautiful tribute to Bailey. I wish I had words to help heal your pain..but there are none. I like to think when you feel the air stir and there is no breeze, when you feel something lightly caress you and there is nothing there. It is Bailey with her angel wings hovering above her sweet family paying a visit. She is waiting for that special time when you will all be reunited. Smiling and laughing playing in heavens great yard. May God bless you and comfort you.

[bellababy08]

Awww Thank you all so much for helping me keep my Bailey's memory alive...God Bless all!!

Buster Brown...Thank you, that was so loving and kind...and the next time I feel that air stir and there is no breeze I will know its my sweet Bailey thanks you