Have I finally found my friends? (Palmer has crossed over the Bridge)

Hi-
Just checking in. I've been fighting pneumonia for the last 7 days. I finally seem to have the upper hand.

A neighbor just got a puppy. It's a pure bred-but I don't remember the type, right now. Her name is Zoe and she just bounces from one spot to the next. She's very inquisitive. It's great to have one around.

I just filed the remaining papers for Palmer.......the final bill, all those test results for the last month, etc. I tried not to focus on them.
When Palmer was here, he was almost always with me. If I got sick, he'd be curled up right next to me. I really miss him. We got this really nice card from a neighbor's sister.....she had met Palmer on one of her visits. On the front it says "A pet is a special part of your family who will always have a special place in your heart." One the inside it says - They are gone from our sight,....but never our memory, Gone from our hearing....but never our hearts, Gone from our touch....but their presence is felt, and the love that they gave us never departs.

I have looked-I know it's on the site somewhere........does anyone have the poem, or writing that is written from the pet's point of view-The one that says something about at the end you gave me the greatest gift.......I know that's way off, but I'm sure some of you will know what I am talking about. I'm struggling with having given the vet the permission to inject Palmer. I "know" what I did was best, I just am having a really hard time without him. The last ten days of his life went really fast and I didn't really have time to prepare myself for losing Palmer.....I'd thought about it, but it really did take me by surprise. I'm feeling badly about not having recognized how he wasn't eating, sooner. Not that I could have changed anything.

It's just rough sometimes.

-Susan

One of the poems on this page may be what you are looking for.

http://www.petsonthenet.co.nz/poemsanticipatedloss.htm

Jenny

Susan, I am sorry to hear that you are struggling but it does take time, try and remember the good things about Palmer. We are here to hold your hand and to listen so keep posting okay?

Although I have not had to do this with a dog I have had to make the decision to end my cat's life at 18 and my horses life at 22 and as hard as it was at the time now that I look back I can see that what I did was a gift to them so that they were not suffering anymore.

Hope you feel better soon,

Love and hugs,

Hi Susan,

Here's another collection of poems that might contain the one you are looking for (I'm thinking it might be the one entitled "The Last Battle?"):

http://www.petloss.com/poems/poems.htm

My heart aches for you over your lingering questions and pain. I will never forget my own days of searching and doubt after my husband and I made the decision to release our Cushpup, Barkis. Not that it helps in any way to say this, but I do believe that the questions and regret are inevitable when we make this final decision on behalf of our beloved companions. "Was it really the right time -- should we have waited -- did we wait TOO long?? -- did we give up when there was more that we could have done...:( :( :("

The only answer that I can give you is the answer that I repeated in my own mind in order to comfort myself: you made your decision out of your love for Palmer, and therefore it had to be right. In those first days without Barkis, I would walk alone around his favorite lake and cry. Out of desperation, I made up this little mantra that I kept repeating to myself. "We loved him dearly. He had a wonderful life. We didn't let him suffer." I would say that over and over with every step. And finally, over time, the pain of those last frantic days and hours started to drop away and I started remembering some of the good times every time I said to myself, "He had a wonderful life." But it took a long time for the doubts and the regret to recede. They still remain to this day, but they are tucked much farther away, finally overlaid by the happier memories and images.

When we release them, the emptiness that is left behind is so sudden and so profound. It is a huge space to try to reclaim and it is so natural to mentally replay the ending in the wish that things could be different. It is a testament to how much we loved them and how much they will always mean to us. I remain so very sorry for your loss.

With many hugs,
Marianne

Hi Susan,
Some of my guilt had to do with not letting Lady go sooner....did I keep her too long....just because she had such a great appetite and she and I were so good at getting all that medication into her, pills and insulin too.
But I know that I did the best that I could for her and we had 13 fascinating years together.
Talking together on this forum about this part of our journey helps us all....take care,
Jo-Ann & my Dollydog angel

Hi guys-
Jenny-I think that may be the poem....if not, it's really close. Thanks.
I'm feeling pretty comfortable with taking Palmer to the vet the last time.
The more I think about it, the clearer it becomes. That morning went by so fast........but I had noticed how Palmer didn't want to look anyone in the eye-very unusual for him, and how he just wanted to be close. Don't bug him, just let him be near.
About the not recognizing the not eating sooner....we really kind of did...we just didn't put it all together. Had we been able to do that I think the only difference would have been that all of that testing would have happened sooner.....and maybe we would not have had the last 2-3 weeks that we enjoyed with Palmer. This was going to wind up where it did no matter what.
Marianne-it has been helpful to reread where you wrote that I had done the right thing because it had been done out of my love for Palmer. I would not have gone ahead at that time had I not been comfortable with my decision...in that it was the best and right thing to do. The little guy was just worn out. He hid his aging really well.
I gave him a bath when we brought him back from the hospital. He never liked baths, but he tolerated them. Boy did he like AFTER baths! He would run around and tug at the towel, bark and act like a mad dog!:D I made that bath as quick as I could....I knew he would feel better to be cleaned up. After the bath he ran just a bit. Then he hopped up on the recliner I was sitting in, worked his way up to the back of the chair and sat on my head! He stayed there until I encouraged him to come down to the seat portion of the chair.....I didn't want him falling off the back of the recliner.
If we came inside from having been out, when it was raining or snowing, whenever he got wet - he went crazy also. He turned back into a puppy and would run and bark and pull at my shoes.
The evenings are still the hardest. It gets so quiet then and I let myself think about Palmer. I read a number of the poems that were on the links provided (thank you all) and was really struck by the theme that some had about how you could let yourself cry but not to let it go on too long. That your loved one would be upset if they knew how their parting upset you. That the fun times, the precious times and the silly times were where I should spend my thinking.
I don't know exactly when it was...maybe nine months ago, maybe a year, and I got a call from the vet that basically said to me that Palmer would never make 17 like Peaches had. The vet didn't say that to me....it just "hit" me. After I hung up the phone (I was stretched out on my bed and Palmer was at the opposite corner, as he always was,) he walked over to me all on his own, put his paws on my chest and looked me in the eyes. We then got him to get on top of my chest and talked for awhile. It all just seemed to be a message I was getting... and he knew it.
I have another funny story.....If I would be stretched out on my stomach-either on the floor or on the bed- Palmer came up to me and started "digging" on my butt! I have no idea what he thought he was doing, he just seemed to think it was fun. We were very fortunate to have so very much time that we could spend together....the two of us.
When I would sit at the computer he would get in his bean bag, He'd go around in circles, fluffing it up. He'd be content for awhile and then he would decide I had spent enough time on the computer. He would come to the front of my chair and look up at me. I'd pick him up and, with him on my lap, keep doing my computer stuff. Then we'd reach a point where that was really uncomfortable for me and he'd get down. He'd go back to one of his fluffy beds. Sooner or later, we wound up going somewhere where we could stretch out together.
That last day, or next to last day, I thought he'd enjoy going for a walk. He always loved the idea of going for a walk , but unless we were going to ride down to the boardwalk to walk.....where he could greet his friends, he lost interest in the walk very quickly. There were times his arthritis would bother him so bad that I'd pick him up and carry him home. That last time I asked him about going for a walk, he got excited for just a moment or two and then he sat down. He did not want to go for a walk.That was not a good sign. So we cuddled together on the recliner.
I just want him back..........
but some of the poems and some of you wonderful friends have talked about how once over the bridge, they are young again, nothing hurts and they run and play. One of them read how when I would cross over the bridge that Palmer would be playing with his friends, but once he spotted me he would run over and act all crazy as he always did when I returned from somewhere. He won't forget me.
We're coming up on one month tomorrow. I will think of Palmer as he would run around the house, in the yard, and chase my son. Ryan is the only one who has enough speed to stay ahead of Palmer, at least for a little while.
He was so sweet, so soft, so comfortable. I am so very fortunate.....and kinda sad.
-Susan

Susan,
Oh honey, just wish there was something to say to give you some comfort or ease your suffering. Just know that we are all here for you, now and forever, whenever you need us.
Enjoy your precious memories of Palmer, and know that he is always with you, carried in your heart forever more
HUGE (((((HUGS)))))
Jane, Franklin and Bailey xxx

Dearest Susan,

My (((((hugs)))) go out to you today and will continue.

Take your time, there is no set rules for grieving such a tremendous loss. You will continue to think about the last day, the last minute and the sadness you feel; but as the days go by, the smiles will come more often when you think about your wonderful life together. Your sweetie pie will watch over you.

Take care
Terry

Hi Susan,

This is one of my favorite poems -

The Fourth Day
by Martin Scot Kosins

If you ever love an animal, there are three days in your life you will always remember.

The first is a day, blessed with happiness, when you bring home your young new friend.

You may have spent weeks deciding on a breed. You may have asked numerous opinions of many vets, or done long research in finding a breeder. Or, perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may have just chosen that silly looking mutt in a shelter ... simply because something in its eyes reached your heart.

But when you bring that chosen pet home, and watch it explore, and claim its special place in your hall or frontroom - and when you feel it brush against you for the first time - it instills a feeling of pure love you will carry with you through the many years to come.


The second day will occur eight or nine or ten years later.

It will be a day like any other. Routine and unexceptional. But, for a surprising instant, you will look at your longtime friend and see age where you once saw youth.

You will see slow deliberate steps where you once saw energy.

And you will see sleep where you once saw activity.

So you will begin to adjust your friend's diet - and you may add a pill or two to her food.

And you may feel a growing fear deep within yourself, which bodes of a coming emptiness.

And you will feel this uneasy feeling, on and off, until the third day finally arrives.


And on this day - if your friend and God have not decided for you, then you will be faced with making a decision of your own - on behalf of your lifelong friend, and with the guidance of your own deepest Spirit.

But whichever way your friend eventually leaves you - you will feel as alone as a single star in the dark night sky.

If you are wise, you will let the tears flow as freely and as often as they must. And if you are typical, you will find that not many in your circle of family or human friends will be able to understand your grief, or comfort you.

But if you are true to the love of the pet you cherished through the many joyfilled years, you may find that a soul - a bit smaller in size than your own - seems to walk with you, at times, during the lonely days to come.
And at moments when you least expect anything out of the ordinary to happen, you may feel something brush against your leg - very very lightly.

And looking down at the place where your dear, perhaps dearest, friend used to lay - you will remember those three significant days.

The memory will most likely be painful, and leave an ache in your heart -

As time passes the ache will come and go as if it has a life of its own.

You will both reject it and embrace it, and it may confuse you.

If you reject it, it will depress you.

If you embrace it, it will deepen you.

Either way, it will still be an ache.


But there will be, I assure you, a fourth day when - along with the memory of your pet - and piercing through the heaviness in your heart -there will come a realization that belongs only to you.

It will be as unique and strong as our relationship with each animal we have loved, and lost.

This realization takes the form of a Living Love -

Like the heavenly scent of a rose that remains after the petals have wilted, this Love will remain and grow - and be there for us to remember.

It is a Love we have earned.

It is the legacy our pets leave us when they go -

And it is a gift we may keep with us as long as we live.

It is a Love which is ours alone -

And until we ourselves leave, perhaps to join our Beloved Pets -

It is a Love that we will always possess.


Hugs,
Leslie and the girls - always

Jane, Terry and Leslie....thank you for your words of encouragement and support. I guess if we follow and are true to our own hearts, we can't go far wrong. I'm nowhere near ready to "move on" from Palmer...nor do I want to be. It is so reassuring that those many of you whom have shared really know what this is like.

Leslie-I now have a new favorite poem. What you shared is absolutely wonderful. I thank you. (I hope you were able to copy and paste that :) )

It's really nice to feel that Palmer's spirit is still here.....and will be here.

It's one month. It's a beautiful day. Something physical is missing, but all seems much better now. I still want him back. :( I know that is but an indication of my deep love for him and his for me. I wouldn't have missed this ride for the world. The tears still are coming and with your encouragement I will just let them run their course.

I thank you.

-Susan