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Animal Lovers ... Tell Me I'm Not Crazy!

Everybody is saying the right thing, but I just wanted to said it myself. You are not crazy, Kestra. Family is family, be them with two or four legs (or in the case of the real Miss Chicken, three).
 
I still have Buffy's little coat (she died several years ago) and collar. I think I also have Ginger's (she died a couple of years before Buffy) collar around here someplace. Buffy was approximately 15 1/2 - 16 years old when she died; Ginger was almost 17 when she died. I have a picture of them on my entertainment center. I still think of them often even though I now have other pets (2 gerbils and a guinea pig).
 
Why can't you?

One would think the notoriously anti-pawed-animal policy that exists with about 98 percent of Chicago landlords.

Well, we're not in Chicago yet but we're trying to sell our place to move to the city. And yeah, it would severely limit where we could live. What with me going back to school and the cost of living downtown, we need all the options we can get.

There's also the fact that while they're adorable, they are also little terrors and my husband would likely want to leave me if I took them in!
Too bad. :( Are they going to live with people that you know or are related to?
 
Other people around me are sad, but nowhere near the extent that I am. Is it that strange to get so attached?

Absolutely not. I grew up with an adorable miniature schnauzer named Max. We were the best of pals for the longest time, and when I went off to college, my parents said he slept at the front door almost every night. Whenever I visited from college, he and I were inseparable.

He got ill, though, later in his life, developing diabetes and then some eye problems. He also developed a tumor in his stomach. Not long after he had surgery to remove the tumor, he went blind from diabetes-related complications. He was able to function for a while, as he had partial sight in one eye, but eventually it was completely gone. It culminated during a time that I was home from college.

That happened at precisely the time that my mother and my sisters were vacationing in the upper peninsula of Michigan, about 9 hours away from where we lived in Chicago. They were four days into an 18-day trip.

Max had gotten so sick that he had lost himself underneath my computer desk, and kept on walking into the sides of it (and the wall). He had no idea where he was or where to go, and my dad and I sat down and decided to take him to the local vet, who had treated Max since he was a puppy, and have him checked out. At the end of our discussion, my dad said that not only was I going to be going to the vet's office alone, but if we were going to put Max to sleep, it had to be my decision.

I took Max to the vet, and the doctor checked him out, and he informed me that Max was fully blind in both eyes and his blood work was showing that his diabetes was out of control. He asked me if I wanted to take him home, or if we should put him to sleep.

I flashed back to Sam, my grandparents' old mutt who lived to be 23, until he developed numerous tumors and skin diseases, and eventually my grandfather took him out into the woods, gave him a hot dog (his favorite food) and then shot him. I knew that if Max was going to go away, I had to be with him. So I told the doctor that we should put Max to sleep; he went away and started preparing the materials, and I began hugging Max and telling him that I loved him and that he was going to feel better soon. I kept on doing that while the doctor made the injection, and as Max's eyes became glassy and then finally closed, I howled like I've never cried before. I was an unbelievable mess for twenty minutes, just holding Max, crying.

At the time, I was 20 years old.

I finally composed myself, paid the bill (such a horrifying thing to do -- I swiped a Visa to pay for killing my little buddy), and drove home. I kept his collar.

When I walked into the house, my dad was at the computer (which was right by the garage door). I was teary-eyed and holding nothing but Max's collar. He got a little misty and I completely broke down. And in that time, that time when I just needed a hug and an affirming word, my dad said, "If I had known that he was going to get so sick so quickly, we would never have paid so much money for his surgery."

So, no. You are not ridiculous for feeling that attachment. Not one bit. And I say that as I have my cat, Spike, sleeping on my recliner with me as I type.

edit: I still have Max's collar

max.jpg

Jesus, Timby, I'm a mess. God bless ya. :(
I'm sitting here looking at my 14 year old black lab who has a few vision problems, and a fatty pocket and tumor, and I just dread the day. I dread it. She is my little buddy, too, and she has made my life whole these past 14 years. Ah, I cry just thinking about it.

I'm going to go spend some time with her. :(


John
 
Not crazy. I'd be a wreck too.

My parents called me to tell me my childhood cat (I'm now 29) died at around 21-22 years old last weekend. It was a kick in the gut. Ruined my day off.

They have a 12 year old Golden Retriever, who I lived with the first several years of her life who is slowly going downhill. I can't imagine what it will be like when her time is up. Lots of crying and a cheap pint of scotch for starters.

I've got a chocolate Lab who really is part of the family. We bring him everywhere we can. I've got a dog friendly New England book so we can pick out fun places to go where we can bring the pooch. I love that dog. There's nothing better than when I get home from work, sit down on the bed to take my shoes off, and he jumps up and rolls into my lap and slobbers all over me.

There's a real connection between people and their pets that some people don't understand or underestimate.
 
Too bad. :( Are they going to live with people that you know or are related to?

People I was once related to through marriage. Basically I know they'll be well cared for, which is an incredible comfort. But I also know that I will never see them again.

These are the lovely terrors I've been talking about:

091-1.jpg
 
No,Kestra, you're not crazy at all. Pets are like your children and when you get attached to them it's the worst if you have to give them up or they die. So sorry to hear that they are gonna be leaving you. Why not keep them yourself or take them in? Or give them to a distant relative that lives nearby if possible?
 
Too bad. :( Are they going to live with people that you know or are related to?

People I was once related to through marriage. Basically I know they'll be well cared for, which is an incredible comfort. But I also know that I will never see them again.

These are the lovely terrors I've been talking about:

091-1.jpg

Oh, I didn't realize we were talking about little 5 lb yappy furballs. I retract all my earlier statements. Send 'em to Califonia. Heck, send 'em to Timbuktu!

OK I'm kidding. I do hope you can find some way to hang onto them. I'm just not a big fan of toy dog breeds in general.

Are those Bichons?
 
Too bad. :( Are they going to live with people that you know or are related to?

People I was once related to through marriage. Basically I know they'll be well cared for, which is an incredible comfort. But I also know that I will never see them again.

These are the lovely terrors I've been talking about:

091-1.jpg
Yeah, they're cute, all right. :)

It's good at least that you know the people and know they will be well taken care of.
 
Seriously, dogs are like perpetual two-year-old kids. KT said her pets are her kids, and I can understand that. I've always wanted children but that never happened in my relationship, and so pets fill that place.

Dogs, moreso than cats, are completely reliant on you. How can one not become emotionally attached at a profound level? I mean, I cried more at the age of 14 when my dog died than when my parents split up.

I once made a status update on my FB that said "My dog cheers me up better than anyone I know," which pissed off my best friend at the time, but it was true. Unconditional affection, a startling amount of awareness into my emotional state, and a knack for getting in my face and making me remember what things in life are important and what I should just allow to roll off me like water off a duck's back...that's what my Lily is to me.

So no, as many others have said, you're FAR from crazy, Kestra.
 
I have four cats and they are very dear to me, so here is another person who understands...

I like animals okay, but I love my cats!!

A couple of years ago I had a short term transfer to a city about 6 hours away. The company rented me a nice apartment, but they didn't allow pets, so my kitties stayed home with my husband. It was the worst three months of my life. No cat to wake up to, no cat to nap with, no cat to keep me company and worst of all no cat when I came back to the apartment in the evenings. Awful.
 
No cat to wake up to, no cat to nap with, no cat to keep me company and worst of all no cat when I came back to the apartment in the evenings. Awful.

I'd love a 3-month vacation from my cat. Mean spirited, rotten creature that he is. But, I married into it, so I'm stuck with him for another 10 years!
 
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