What will help my grief? Burial at home or individual cremation

lowis

so sorry for your loss

i found an attended cremation really helped my grief. it costs an extra £50 to attend the crematorium my vet uses (Cambridge Pet Crematorium) but i found the whole experience very comforting and dignified. when Storm died the vet arranged everything and i went up on the day and saw her again, lying in a little pet-coffin, spent 10 minutes with ehr and then they cremated her. i waited to collect the ashes (about 3 hours - they have to cool down).

when timmy died my vet arranged everything again, but this time i took timmy to the crematorium myself (after my vet kept his body safe in cold storage for a few days until the date of the cremation). again it was a very peaceful and dignified process and that last 10 minutes with my little furry friends was so special, getting to say a final goodbye...they looked so peaceful and it did give me some sense of closure. Storm and Timmy are now on my shelf, in beautiful mangowood pots.

if it isn't too late you may want to consider asking your vet if it is possible to attend the cremation?

x

EmptyPockets

virgin_moneysaver wrote: »

A little of her history: I was walking to work one filthy, cold November morning when I came across a shivering, muddy non-descript dog cowering against a shop window, took her to the local vet on instruction of the Dog Warden, & to cut a long story short this bedraggled mess became mine a week later after being unclaimed, the local pound do not destoy healthy dogs & they had brought her up a treat, one lovely Black & White English Springer Spaniel, who was not nuts like so many of her breed, but we immediately had an inseparable bond, strangers used to comment on how she used to look at me, with such trust. After living in a testosterone fuelled house (1 hubby, 2 sons) she was my little girl, pink collar to boot, they used to add her name to my Mothers Day card

That is a lovely story.

Nell obviously decided you were the human for her. What a lucky girl too.

You loved her and gave her the best life a dog would wish for. That's all that matters now, and no one can ever take that away.

DansMum_2

I am so sorry to hear about dear Nell. She was such a lucky girl to find you. Her spirit will be with you forever and she'll always be in your and your husbands hearts. It is terrible when we lose them. I had the same thing with Misty although I didnt stay with him when they put him to sleep, I asked the nurse to close his eyes, but they couldnt. I took him home as I didnt want him to be lonely, and i buried him in the garden and bought him a stone. On hindsight I wished I'd had him cremated as I dont want to go through leaving him behind, or bringing him with me. My other babies (1 dog, 4 cats and 2 horses) will all be individually cremated and will stay with me, although horses are a little different and I wouldnt want either of them left in a field for days before they're collected....

Froglet - beautiful words.

Much love and hugs to you xxx

virgin_moneysaver

at the moment I have everyone home, but next week the eldest is back to Uni & the youngest back to 6th form so the house will feel very quiet, just me on my days off - but I'll be a week further along the line so hopefully a bit stronger when I pick up her ashes, actually, no, I'm gonna get the other half to do that - at first I thought I'd bury her urn in the garden but I'm gonna keep it with me & see how I feel at a later date - I've given the practical stuff like her food & frontline to my sisters dog, but I can't part with her collar, lead or bowls yet. I have my young nephew to stay at the moment so he is distracting me somewhat from constantly moping around the house.

Thank you to all, especially Emptypockets, who have given me advice & comfort on this thread, your support has been tremendous x

EmptyPockets

virgin_moneysaver wrote: »

Thank you to all, especially Emptypockets, who have given me advice & comfort on this thread, your support has been tremendous x

You are more than welcome.

People here helped me through this terrible time and if I can do the same for others, I will. As I said before, I am always available via PM, Facebook or MSN if you ever feel like a chat.

undaunted

virgin_moneysaver wrote: »

Yesterday, at 4.45pm, we had to let my gorgeous girl go, Nell was an English Springer Spaniel whom I found on my way to work just under 4 years ago.

I feel so guilty in signing the form and taking away her life even though she was going downhill quite quickly, the look on her face as she was being examined on the table, was her usual, 'Come on Mum lets get out of here'

I wasn't prepared for how quickly the injection worked or that she died with her eyes open, its all I can see in my mind, I thought at the end she would look asleep.

I made the mistake of reading on this site last night to come across some posters comments on the treatment of the pets once the owner has left. I then spent all night worrying about what they were doing with her, and whether I had made the right decision in arranging for an individual cremation so I could have her back, as our lovely vet said I could also take her home to bury her.

I haven't eaten since and sobbing uncontollaby, as I am now, I keep looking for her as she was my shadow and I feel so guilty and lost - what must she be thinking - I keep thinking they don't know she doesn't like closed doors and she snores!

My husband doesn't think bringing her home to bury is a good idea, even though I offered to dig the hole. Everywhere I look I see her and it starts me off - I just can't believe I'll never hold her again

I'm so sorry to read of your loss. There is rarely a good way or time & I'm not sure what the answer of Nell is to your question (as it's a very personal thing). Personally I buried both of my own girls, just as they were, but some prefer cremation and to scatter, bury or even keep ashes in a casket somewhere.

Whilst you decide you may find some comforting thoughts here.

http://www.indigo.org/rainbowbridge_ver2.html

"No one ever really dies, just as long as there is someone here to remember. When there is no one left to remember, it only means that we are all back together again."

IF IT SHOULD BE!
If it should be, that I grow frail and weak,
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then you must do what must be done,
For we know this last battle can't be won.

You will be sad, I understand,
But don't let grief then stay your hand.
For this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.

We've had so many happy years,
What is to come can hold no fears.
Would you want me to suffer? So,
When the time comes, let me go.

Take me where my needs they'll tend,
Only stay with me until the end,
And hold firm me and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know, in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me,
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.

Do not grieve, it must be you,
Who must decide this thing to do.
We've been so close, we two, these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.

May I Go Now?
May I Go? May I go now?
Do you think the time is right?
May I say good-bye to pain-filled days
and endless lonely nights?

I’ve lived my life and done my best,
an example tried to be.
So can I take that step beyond
and set my spirit free?

I didn’t want to go at first,
I fought with all my might.
But something seems to draw me now
to a warm and loving light.

I want to go. I really do.
It’s difficult to stay.
But I will try as best I can
to live just one more day,

To give you time to care for me
and share your love and fears.
I know you’re sad and so afraid,
because I see your tears.

I’ll not be far, I promise that,
and hope you’ll always know
that my spirit will be close to you,
wherever you may go.

Thank you so for loving me.
You know I love you too.
That’s why it’s hard to say good-bye
and end this life with you.

So hold me now, just one more time
and let me hear you say,
because you care so much for me,
you’ll let me go today.

— Susan A. Jackson

LIVING LOVE
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 animal 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 front room – 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, 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.
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 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 joy-filled 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 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.

LAST NIGHT
I stood by your bed last night; I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying; you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly, as you brushed away a tear,
"It's me, I haven't left you. I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here."
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea;
You were thinking of the many times your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at the shops today; your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care.
I want to reassure you, that I'm not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently laid my paw on you, I smiled and said, "It's me."
You looked so very tired and sank into a chair;
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.
It's possible for me to be so near you every day,
To say to you with certainty, "I never went away."
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew...
In the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over... I smile and watch you yawning,
And say "Good night, God bless, I'll see you in the morning."
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I'll rush across to greet you and we'll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see;
Be patient, live your journey out... then come home to be with me.

DONT CRY FOR ME WHEN I'M GONE!
Three score years are given to man,
But ours is a much briefer span.
So, though I give you all my heart,
The time will come when we must part.
But all around, you will see
Creatures that speak to you of me;
A tired horse, a hunted thing,
A sparrow with a broken wing...
Pity and help, (I know you will),
And, somehow, I will be with you still.
I shall know, although I'm gone,
The love I gave you lingers on!

http://www.bluecross.org.uk/web/site/AboutUs/PetBereavement/PBSSIntro.asp



RIP Nell :A

undaunted

virgin_moneysaver wrote: »

you are right, the way I feel at the moment, I never want to go thru this again, this was my 1st experience (and last) at putting an animal to sleep, to me she was a member of the family and I just want to turn the clock back and have her with me - I've tried looking at photos today of when she was well, to try & put the mental picture of the vets table out of my mind, but it just sets me off, ever little thing to do with her sets me off

It's very understandable & natural for you to feel this way right now, many of us have been there too, (though not me of course, who would be so soppy? )

Sadly however there will probably always be more dogs (and other animals) desperately looking for a chance in new homes and to avoid a premature death as unwanted than there should ever be

In time maybe you will feel like you would like to give one of those animals that chance as your own special tribute to Nell?


You asked what Nell might be thinking & I wonder whether it may have been her way to show a

LIVING LOVE
When humans die, they make a will
To leave their homes and all they have
To those they love.
I, too, would make a will if I could write.

To some poor wistful, lonely stray
I leave my happy home.
My dish, my cosy bed, my cushioned chair, my toy.
The well loved lap, the gentle stroking hand,
The loving voice.
The place I made in someone's heart.
The love that at last could help me to
A peaceful, painless end,
Held in loving arms.

If I should die, Oh do not say,
"No more a pet I'll have,
To grieve me by it's loss"
Seek out some lonely, unloved dog
And give my place to him.
This is the legacy I leave behind -
Tis all I have to give.


You could never replace a much loved & lost pet but in time you may find that another can take a special place of their own in your heart, right there alongside your dear Nell

Sagaris

I felt exactly the same way OP - never again to go through the final moments in the vets with another dog - especially as the vet didn't do it properly and it took 3 attempts and 40 minutes to put poor Clio to sleep.

Then I read the above poem and it got me thinking that the best tribute to her would be to give another deserving dog a home. Not as a replacement - but as another companion - it's horrible coming home to an empty house when you have been used to being bowled over by the front door.

We now have Sammy Completely different to Clio but just as loving, and she fills the dog shaped hole in our lives very nicely.

I know it's said so often, but time really is a healer - and when you feel up to it, another deserving dog might just help?

Quinny_2

EmptyPockets wrote: »

That is a lovely story.

Nell obviously decided you were the human for her. What a lucky girl too.

You loved her and gave her the best life a dog would wish for. That's all that matters now, and no one can ever take that away.

Couldn't agree more.

Judging by that story, it was fate that brought you together, and that's what probably makes you more sad at the loss of her.

Whatever your decision, would you be so kind as to post on here afterwards, and let us know what you have done? I think it's fair to say that we all share your grief, and would like to know where Nell's final resting place is.

Ken.

gratefulforhelp_2

virgin_moneysaver wrote: »

Yesterday, at 4.45pm, we had to let my gorgeous girl go, Nell was an English Springer Spaniel whom I found on my way to work just under 4 years ago.

I feel so guilty in signing the form and taking away her life even though she was going downhill quite quickly, the look on her face as she was being examined on the table, was her usual, 'Come on Mum lets get out of here'

I wasn't prepared for how quickly the injection worked or that she died with her eyes open, its all I can see in my mind, I thought at the end she would look asleep.

I made the mistake of reading on this site last night to come across some posters comments on the treatment of the pets once the owner has left. I then spent all night worrying about what they were doing with her, and whether I had made the right decision in arranging for an individual cremation so I could have her back, as our lovely vet said I could also take her home to bury her.

I haven't eaten since and sobbing uncontollaby, as I am now, I keep looking for her as she was my shadow and I feel so guilty and lost - what must she be thinking - I keep thinking they don't know she doesn't like closed doors and she snores!

My husband doesn't think bringing her home to bury is a good idea, even though I offered to dig the hole. Everywhere I look I see her and it starts me off - I just can't believe I'll never hold her again

Quicker is better, honestly. Our vet couldn't find a vein, it took forever, and we cried and cried.

Its been over a year and I'm blubbing my eyes out reading.

Don't worry about her remains, its just her "old overcoat" she doesn't need it anymore.

And how much poorer would your lives have been without each other?

Lots of hugs. I still hear my girl's paws padding along the hall.