Cemetary for Pets

Continuing the Memorial for Ranger.

Sunday evening, we went to the Veterinary Clinic where Ranger had passed away, to retrieve his body. We had a kind of "wake" for him at home, where both humans and the other dogs could come and pay their respects, and come to terms with the tragedy. He spent the night in our cool basement, guarding the rest of the family one last time.

Monday morning the Cemetery van came and picked Ranger up. A very quiet, gentle and kind man who understood our grief. He treated Ranger with respect, which was a huge comfort to us.

We followed the van thinking that a cemetery didn't feel right for us, we wanted his ashes in a urn. But that just wasn't an option here, unfortunately. How could a sad place heal us and how could a sad place look "pretty"? We thought about the garbage problem, and how people have to live with that surrounding so how could a Cemetery for pets be nice?

On our way we saw stray dogs roaming around on the streets, garbage piles and empty ugly houses, a very sad environment that we live among.

Suddenly the van made a left turn off the road, and then a right turn into a park. A wonderful green park with beautiful flowers, and nice cut bushes, a water-fountain gave a relaxing sound. We walked out of our car and were greeted by a happy three-legged Yorkshire Terrier followed by his friend; a red cat. Behind them a big gray Mastiff (7 months old) wobbled out of his small dog house, and loped toward us on his huge paws. Some other pets greeted us and their love and healing felt so wonderful. We laughed while our tears ran down our cheeks.

Two men gently lifted Ranger out of the heavy plastic bag (that the hospital had put him in and I hated)--he had lost a lot of blood and flies became attracted--and put him on a big piece of fabric up on a table. Todd had put Ranger's red collar with tags on him. {Ranger Mercer, 910-868-6424. Reward for Return, "I Am Loved"} He had bought a raw-hide chew bone ("He will be hungry at the Rainbow Bridge", Todd said), and together with his little, red teddy-bear and favorite blue blanket we could "see" and be with him for the last time. That meant a lot for us to stand in peace with him; we are thankful they gave us the time to say good bye.

They wrapped him in the fabric and put him gently on a cart and we walked to the grave we had selected for him. Throughout the process, the cemetery people were respectful and reverent. He was a loved soul in their care, and they took their task seriously.

With Ranger placed kindly into his grave, Todd shoveled the first spade of dirt, then the men finished burying our boy. Olivia had a white flower that she gave to him. I thanked Ranger for letting me into his life and I recalled how when Todd was in Iraq, Ranger slept on the sofa snoring so it sounded like Todd was home. It was then a relaxing, comforting, wonderful sound; and now a fond memory!

Todd read the poem about the Rainbow Bridge and said good bye to his dear, old friend, and thanked him for being a wonderful and patient buddy, "He was always so loving and patient, waiting days and weeks for promised walks, rides in the truck and play."

The funeral process done, we wiped our eyes and sniffled back the continuing tears. Olivia had to go to the bathroom, and we walked away from Ranger's grave toward the cemetery office. Still, we didn't want to leave. Over the next 30-40 minutes, we individually and together gravitated back again and again, to say one more thing to Ranger, reminisce or to weep some more. All of us.

It was comforting for him to be in such a beautiful, serene, honorable place. He's among other obviously loved and missed pets. In that way it is nice. But he can't come and nudge our hand over his head for a much-needed pet; can't slobber over us in loving ecstasy, and can't solemnly tolerate Olivia climbing on him any more. He's with us in spirit, we know, and his love for us remains. But he isn't with us in body. And that's what really hurts.

Gosh, Ranger, we are so heartbroken without you. Our Amore Goof!

Going Against Intuition

When is the time to say good bye to our four legged friend?

That is a difficult question that many people ask me. Many times they call me and ask me, "Is he ready?"

You know when the time is there, you can feel it. But sometimes other people interfere with their eyes and logic instead of their gut feelings and that interference disconnects the intuition. Animals know. They prepare themselves and leave the pack so they are not a burden any more. That is still unconditional love from them into the end.

Some people are watching with their eyes, "He is not in pain, he is not howling."

Animals go into a state of mind were they start to close the world off. They have to be strong right up to the last minute. They can not "scream," they are protecting their pack from attracting enemies, and to scream would signal weakness and vulnerability.

When mourning you start to go through, if and whys. Questioning and re-questioning decisions you made, or didn't make, that maybe contributed to the end result. It eats at your mind and your heart, everything is aching. You wish, you hope, you want to wake up from a bad dream.

Saturday, Max's baptism was a wonderful day. We had our four dogs on the back side of our house. No one would go into the back yard and bother them. The Barbecue started and at some time, someone threw in a rib to the dogs. Ranger, our Black Labrador ate one. A person who no doubt thought that "he" did something nice, instead started a chain of events with a deathly outcome. also believe a plastic cup blew in where the dogs were, and Ranger smelled something wonderful and took a bite that would later lodge in his throat, and yet later when he vomited, he would aspirate into his lungs, eventually sawing his lungs up and causing internal bleeding.

Later we heard him coughing, clearly something was stuck in his throat. People said, "If he is not good 'till Monday I will show you were the ER veterinarian is"

Later, too much later, I said "He wont make it through the night, he is getting worse, something is cutting him."

People said, " No he probably scratched his throat."

Later, was too late!

When he threw up with blood, after everyone else had left, it was finally crystal clear that he was in dire circumstances. Todd called to get the friend out of bed to show us where the 24-hour clinic was (note, always know this when moving to a new location), and he sped Ranger there.

Emergency surgery took care of the rib in his throat, and took out some other stuff from his stomach: plastic, a balloon, whole olives. But the physical damage to his lungs was apparently too much. He continued unconscious under anesthesia for about 7 hours, but when he should have been transitioning out of the anesthesia, he went into respiratory distress, followed by failure. The vet clinic says they tried several things to revive him, and actually had him for about 30 seconds, but they lost him in the end.

Try to always go on your gut feeling. When it comes to your friend, your connection with him is stronger than stranger's eyes.

Our Big Amore Goof! We Are so sorry we didn't listen to our heart. We are so sad without you!

In Memorium

Our beloved Ranger passed away on Sunday morning, 11 May 2008, Mother's Day. His departure has left a huge hole in all our hearts that we are yet only beginning to comprehend.

Born 12 July 1999 in Killeen, Texas

Died 11 May 2008 in Naples, Italy

Lived and loved along the way in Fayetteville, North Carolina and Bowling Green, Ohio.

AKC registered name: Jackson's Texas Ranger

Known lovingly as Ranger, Little One (Grandma's name for him),Little Buddy, Ranger Buddy, and Rar-Rar (Olivia's name for him).

He was 2 months and 1 day shy of his 9th birthday. Far too young to leave us, far too loved to be replaced. He never woke up from anesthesia after emergency surgery to remove a rib bone from his esophagus; he had apparently inhalated plastic or bone fragments into his lungs, and his efforts to remove the obstruction from his throat caused the sharp pieces to saw into his lungs. His huge heart just couldn't overcome the injuries.

A big, gentle, loving goof of a soul; a water dog that hated the water; a retriever that would chase after the chaser, but not retrieve anything himself; a Labrador that drooled like a Saint Bernard. He was not the dog of my youth, but he will forever be the dog of my heart.

Rest in Peace, my beloved Ranger. Your work here is done. Your little sister Shiloh is lost without you. Your family misses you so much already, you have left a huge hole in our heart and lives. Wait for me at the field before the Rainbow Bridge. I will be there for you one day.

Todd
Mia, Jackson, Olivia, Maximillian
Tjojs, Shiloh & Clyde

Can We Learn From Them?

A veterinarian was called to examine a 10 year-old Blue Heeler named Belker. The dog's owner--Ron, his wife, Lisa and their little boy, Shane--were all very attached to Belker and they were hoping for a miracle. The vet examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. He told the family there were no miracles left for Belker, and offered to preform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.
As they made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told him they thought it would be good for the 4-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt Shane could learn something from the experience.
The next day, the vet felt the familiar catch in his throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that he wondered if Shane 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. They 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, pipped up, " I know why."
Startled, they all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned them. The vet had never heard a more comforting explanation.
Shane said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how to be good-like loving everybody and being nice, right?"
The 4-year-old continued, "Well animals already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."

This is Amore!

I found this story but it didn't say whom wrote it. I get a lot of e mails about when is the time to say good bye to our four legged friends.
More to follow!

Memories from Bosnia

When you socialize with death every day, you get used to its presence. Before long, you stop fearing death.

It is painful to witness an animal’s death struggle in front of your eyes. The only thing you can do is cry; cry over your own helplessness. It is cramping, with it’s eyes starring into your own eyes asking for mercy.
I feel doomed over not having the tools of either rescuing or killing the animal. My hands are just empty. I do not have the equipment for anything, not even a jeep were I can quickly transport the suffering animal to shorten its struggle.
Certainly no taxi will allow me to take the animal with me. The peoples’ religion says that if you bring an animal inside, no angels will ever come in.
The only power I have is to pray and walk away from the animal. Praying for a fast death for him. Praying for his soul. Praying that the madness will stop. The feelings of hopelessness and helplessness are killing me slowly and the more I get closer to God, the heavier the burden seems to rest on my shoulders.

To see a dead animal is not a comfortable sight but not as scary as to see the death solidifying its grasp on an animal’s still warm body. The anguish as its soul struggles to leave the carcass that moments before was its vessel. In my stomach I could feel the animal’s angst, worries, fears and horror. It is a terrifying picture I will carry with me for a long time.
I can even still smell the cloaked atmosphere of terror caused by the people’s cruelty. The sense of guilt is knocking on my shoulder.

We are all guilty if we turn away from anything breathing.