We had to put down my wife’s cat a few years ago. Luckily, she was out of town. I don’t think she could’ve stomached it.

It may help to know the process if your vet hasn’t explained it yet. For my experience, they brought me to “goodbye room”. Not a clinical space, more cozy. Brought in the cat in a blanket. I was able to hold her and be alone with her for awhile. When you’re ready, you press a button which lets them know you’re ready. The vet comes in and gives the first drug which essentially puts them into a deep sleep. Once they’re fully sedated, they administer the second drug that ends their life. I was told this is completely painless and they simply drift off in their sleep.

On one hand, we should all be so lucky to pass away peacefully with members of our pack. On the other hand, I’d rather remove my own kidney with a spoon than be in the room again.

We have a 12 year old dog that’s my best buddy. Pure Velcro dog. She wants to share every moment of my life I’m willing to have her around for. She’s very fit for her age, and impresses the vet every time. But she’s starting to slow down. Her back legs aren’t what they used to be. She still wants to play and be active, but she gets to panting fairly quickly, and lets me know when she’s done. Our walks wear her out now, where she used to have more energy once we got home. She needs help getting in the truck. It’s all starting to add up. And I’m honestly not prepared for the next stage at all.

I’m generally the calm one in tough moments. I can put my head down, make clear and pragmatic decisions, and process the emotions of it later. But I don’t see how I’m going to function through what’s inevitably coming.

OP, nothing that breathes, does so forever. Loss sucks. Loss of unconditional love, sucks unconditionally. I’m sorry for what you're going through. Sounds like Coco was well loved, and shared many adventures with you. Take comfort in the joy Coco gave you, and in the joy you brought her. We all get to make this trip exactly once, and it sounds like you made Coco’s a fun and happy one.

Cheers

Here she is getting laser therapy. She had to wear eye protection lol

She has always taken whatever comes. Always adapts. Shes moved with me 4 times, bonded with the many other dogs of the family, and kept me in line.

We buried the dog we lost two years ago in our Japanese garden, the most beautiful part of our yard. I planted Creeping Jenny on the mound above his grave. The Creeping Jenny is so plush and bright. It comforts me to see life rising from his lost life. You might want to consider something similar.

Coco enjoying her morning television. She only has 3 mornings left.

Coco passed away peacefully on Thursday afternoon. She got to spend the morning outside in the sun. She got lots of treats, cheese, and chicken. Her last meal was cut up hot dogs, shredded cheese, a scoop of ice cream, and some melted peanut butter. I held her in my arms as the vet did the deed. Seeing her at peace brought me so much joy and relief, but it also left a deep scar. I feel completely heart broken and gutted. She was my baby of 15 years.

Thank you everyone for the words of advice and kindness while I was going through this. Now I guess I just have to wait for time to do its healing.

Lynn and I are both sad that Coco passed but happy to know she had a great life with you and yours.

There's a lot of pride in knowing you both took such good care of each other for so long. In time I hope you'll smile everytime you recall all those Coco stories.

Stay Well.

Maybe go fishing.

A-Jay

1 hour ago, Jar11591 said:

She was my baby of 15 years.

That's a long time together. She was lucky to be your baby for 15 years.

1 hour ago, Jar11591 said:

She got to spend the morning outside in the sun. She got lots of treats, cheese, and chicken. Her last meal was cut up hot dogs, shredded cheese, a scoop of ice cream, and some melted peanut butter. I held her in my arms as the vet did the deed.

You gave her the perfect good-bye.

1 hour ago, Jar11591 said:

Seeing her at peace brought me so much joy and relief, but it also left a deep scar.

Yep. Tears.

I also want to add, if anyone has the opportunity for in-home euthanasia, I can’t recommend it enough. That’s what we chose for our Coco, and it made the ordeal so much better than if we were in a veterinary office. She was surrounded by her people, on her own doggy bed, and drifted off as I fed her spray cheese. Being in our home made the situation as good as it possibly could be given the circumstances.

So sorry for your loss.

1 hour ago, Jar11591 said:

She was surrounded by her people, on her own doggy bed, and drifted off as I fed her spray cheese. Being in our home made the situation as good as it possibly could be given the circumstances.

I utterly agree.

Sorry for your loss, sounded like a really awesome friend.

I'm going through it now with my 13 year old Border Collie and it's been a magnificent dog.

It's had 2 complete knee replacements and is currently battling arthritis.

We are currently going through the various drugs that are helping tremendously until they wear off.

The good news, he eats and drinks well.

The bad news, I personally don't handle the loss of a close companion well at all and end up shattered for quite some time.

Today he's having a very good day.

Well....it was our turn a few days ago. We had to put our cat, Bella, down. The vet found a tumor in December and said she had 3-12 months left.

She lasted 4

We are devastated. The home is quiet, cold, and empty without her.

She was a Siberian, and if you know anything about them, you know that's an entirely different level. They're more dog than cat - very loyal, calm, athletic, and extremely intelligent. We trained her to fetch, come when called, ride in the truck, and walk on a leash, among other things.

This is going to sting for a very long time. It feels like we lost our child.

Sorry for your loss just doesn't cover it for me. Hearing of someone having to say goodbye to a loved and trusted companion always tears the scab off for me.

I've had to say goodbye more times than I'd like to count and probably more times than most. It's always really rough for me. When we say goodbye we are always by their side when they finally close their eyes and take their last breath. All our fur babies who cross the Rainbow Bridge get a private cremation and their name embossed on a dog tag that I wear all the time. Many came to us treated like yesterdays garbage and we introduced them to a loving and safe environment. When they leave us, they leave with dignity and love.

The following has proved helpful in coping with grief.... I hope it proves helpful.

"Grief is not just an emotion—it’s an unraveling, a space where something once lived but is now gone. It carves through you, leaving a hollow ache where love once resided.

In the beginning, it feels unbearable, like a wound that will never close. But over time, the raw edges begin to mend. The pain softens, but the imprint remains—a quiet reminder of what once was. The truth is, you never truly "move on." You move with it. The love you had does not disappear; it transforms. It lingers in the echoes of laughter, in the warmth of old memories, in the silent moments where you still reach for what is no longer there. And that’s okay.

Grief is not a burden to be hidden. It is not a weakness to be ashamed of. It is the deepest proof that love existed, that something beautiful once touched your life. So let yourself feel it. Let yourself mourn. Let yourself remember.

There is no timeline, no “right” way to grieve. Some days will be heavy, and some will feel lighter. Some moments will bring unexpected waves of sadness, while others will fill you with gratitude for the love you were lucky enough to experience.

Honor your grief, for it is sacred. It is a testament to the depth of your heart. And in time, through the pain, you will find healing—not because you have forgotten, but because you have learned how to carry both love and loss together." - Jim Carrey

Thanks man, that is helpful. Some people are like "It's just a cat/dog" but losing a cat isn’t a “small” loss—it’s the loss of a daily companion, a routine, a presence that quietly shaped our life. Grief for a pet can hit just as hard as losing a person, sometimes harder because they’re woven into your everyday moments.

The pain is the cost of loving something that gave you a lot back. There’s no shortcut around that. I wish there were, because this really sucks.

19 hours ago, Glenn said:

Thanks man, that is helpful. Some people are like "It's just a cat/dog" but losing a cat isn’t a “small” loss—it’s the loss of a daily companion, a routine, a presence that quietly shaped our life. Grief for a pet can hit just as hard as losing a person, sometimes harder because they’re woven into your everyday moments.

The pain is the cost of loving something that gave you a lot back. There’s no shortcut around that. I wish there were, because this really sucks.

Oh so very true. It does suck, but that is the premium we pay for unconditional love.

I've learned several things being that we've gone through these cycles too many times. Firstly, we are stronger than we allow ourselves to believe. The pain might seem unbearable, but we will manage to bare the weight of grief and survive. The second thing I've learned is a little more complicated. As mentioned, we've had to say goodbye so many times, I always thought that somehow I would be stronger the next time those words were spoken. Maybe stronger, maybe develop a thicker skin, maybe develop a protective shell of sorts. I was so very wrong in thinking it was going to be easier and less painful. In fact, it became much harder for me each subsequent time. I just could not make sense of it.

The answer came to me when we had to say goodbye to our beloved Amber. Amber was a truly unique girl different from other cats. She was a long haired tortie, who embodied love in everything she did. She never just walked from place to place, She trotted or bounded from here to there. She was always in her own world of love and wanted to share it with everyone. When we had to say goodbye to her, I was a mess, couldn't eat and felt physically ill. While mourning our loss, for a brief moment the veil of sadness lifted to allow clarity and the answer as to why this kept getting more painful. When we say goodbye for the last time to a loved companion, we realize how fragile and precious life really is in a very real way. We respond to this knowing by loving those still with us in this 4D world even deeper and more fiercely than ever before. Doing so, we experience love like we've never have, an entirely new level of love. The next time we say goodbye, the void left in our hearts is deeper and the grief is more intense than ever before.

So why continue going through these cycles? Simply, if you stop loving, you'll never experience the greater levels of love. Our brain basically squelches emotions like love and I'm here to tell you that there are levels of love that defy human comprehension. That's just my take on it all.

Sorry for your loss @Jar11591 and @Glenn . Unfortunately it’s my turn today. Cassidee’s body has given out and she can no longer stand for any longer than it takes for her to go to the bathroom and needs help getting up to do that. She wouldn’t eat most of yesterday but I made her some rice and scrambled eggs and she ate the whole bowl of that. She wouldn’t do anything but lay on her side yesterday and couldn’t hardly lift her head off the floor when I leaned down to pet her. She still has her smile, still wags her tail at me, but her old body is tired. It’s been emotional for the whole family, she’s been such a great dog and she’s been here my boys entire lives, it’s going to be a rough day.

@Bluebasser86

Keeping you and the family in my thoughts. You have a lot of good memories there.

So sad for you and your family, Clayton.

I love what you wrote, Crow Horse.

@Jar11591, I think you handled your situation with Coco well. All we can do is give them our love and keep them from unnecessary pain which you did.

I have stayed away from this thread until today because of how raw my emotions are still. We lost our beloved border collie, KC, on December 2nd of last year at age 10. In mid-October we noticed her lymph nodes were somewhat swollen and took her to the vet. We were advised that it was likely she had lymphoma and had approximately 40 to 50 days to live with no treatment. We took her to Blue Pearl Oncology to run tests to confirm the diagnosis and the type of lymphoma she had. After testing we were told she that she indeed had lymphoma but it could be treated. The treatment would last approximately 5 months and the likely result would have been only 5 more months of life after completion. Though KC was a well-behaved dog she had certain anxieties and riding in cars was one of those. We could not see taking her on weekly one hour drives for treatments and checkups for 5 months to only gain 5 more additional months afterward (10 months including the time in treatment). The treatments also typically cause some painful side effects that also have to be treated. We didn't want to put her through that. So we chose to give her prednisone to ease the symptoms until she passed. Prednisone initially takes away all the swelling and your dog will seem normal, but by the second month it starts to lose its efficacy and the swelling comes back. KC did pretty well through Friday, November 29th, eating well and playing, though her endurance was slowly ebbing. On Saturday, November 30th, I awakened to KC lying with her head down on the floor and not wanting to move. I knew that it was time. I called our vet to setup euthanasia for the following Monday. By mid-day she had come out of her stupor and was a bit like herself. The next day, Sunday, she was worse but by mid-afternoon had recovered somewhat again. Monday came, along with a snow storm, and the home euthanasia appointment had to be rescheduled to Tuesday. On Tuesday, December 2nd KC was euthanized with my wife and I by her side at our house. We buried KC down by the woods and creek at the back of our property where she spent many fun days. I could go into a long soliloquy about all of the things that made KC the best dog we have ever had, but instead I will just say this. If dogs don't go to heaven, then there is no heaven.

I’m so sorry to hear, @Bird, @AnonymousSoreMouther, @Bluebasser86, @Glenn, and @senile1.

@Crow Horse I also love what you wrote.

I appreciate the validation and confirmation of just how bad this hurts, and feeling no less grief than other kinds of loss. The truth is, I feel now as though I was woefully unprepared for this. I kept telling myself I would be ready when it comes time, but I also never stopped to realized that the time would actually come one day. But now I guess I realize there is no “ready”. The emotional pain has become physical, and these last few days have been among the hardest of my life. I can’t bring myself to look at pictures of her yet. I am hoping when we get her ashes back, the house will stop feeling so empty. I worked some overtime today, and it was a nice distraction. I have a feeling I’ll be picking up lots of OT hours these next few weeks. I also have to get my butt on the lake.

I just returned from picking up her ashes. We also have her footprint and a tuft of hair. She's back with us, and there's slight solace in that at least.

The vet gave us a pamphlet from this: https://www.petparentgriefsupport.com/

Others here may find it useful too.

8 hours ago, senile1 said:

If dogs don't go to heaven, then there is no heaven.

I've said the same thing many times.

Tears for all who are suffering. Truly.

My condolences…..I wish I knew any words that would ease the heartfelt feelings. Even time didn’t change the way I felt, but it did make it easier to cope with.

I truly am sorry for everyone involved.

On 4/25/2026 at 5:29 AM, Jar11591 said:

I feel completely heart broken and gutted. She was my baby of 15 years.

Jesse,

I understand completely, and I'm sorry for your loss. I lost my black Lab Kaya of 14 1/2 years to cancer. I'd had plenty of dogs before her, but this time I 100% committed myself to training and raising her. With that, we became very connected. That bond somehow grew even tighter when I carried her up and down stairs for 4 months after ACL surgery when she was 9. Such a sweet girl. So smart and communicative. Very vocal.

She was diagnosed with cancer at 14. We did everything we could for her. Surgery. Chemo. At about 14 1/2 the seizures started, and the cancer progressed. Most days were good, but some weren't. She was mostly just good otherwise which is what we'd hoped for. We promised each other that we'd let her go when the bad days outweighed the good. I was set on home euthanasia when the time finally came, but men make plans...

One terrible night my mother-in-law collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. She needed emergency surgery in order to survive. By about 5 am we were told we could leave and get some rest and made our way home. We found Kaya in the bedroom seizing in a mess of excrement and vomit. I got her out of her seizure, but the decision had been made. Given what was happening at the moment with mom, and the extent of this terrible suffering Kaya had gone through by herself for who knows how long, we called the 24hr emergency vet where she had her surgery to make arrangements.

As necessary as it was at the moment, I hated not being able to wait, and we left to go there immediately. She despised the car, so she shook the whole way there. I held her every minute of the ride, and every second during the procedure to help her pass. I had her wrapped in her blanket, so at least she didn't depart on a cold metal table.

I was utterly unprepared for the amount of grief I felt for the next month. It was as bad as anything I'd felt previously. I was inconsolable really, and the suggestions of getting another dog was for me an impossibility.

I even had a dream one day where I heard something rustling in the back yard, and when I looked out the sliders, I saw her there. She ran right to the door. I let her in, picked her up, then the tears started flowing. I put her down and had her follow me upstairs to our bedroom where my wife was watching TV. When she saw Kaya, she was shocked and asked how this was possible? I told her that I'd traded some of my time for her. Then I woke up. The tears were real. At that point in time, if there was a world where a deal like that could've been made, I might have made it as crazy as that sounds.

I don't know exactly why this was so different for me with this particular dog, but it was. Maybe because the kids were out and we were empty nesters when I raised her? Who can say?

A month or so after her passing, and after me refusing a few times, my wife finally convinced me to take a ride to see a foster family to take a look at a young dog who'd just been rescued from a kill shelter. After hanging there for 2 1/2 hours, I acquiesced, and we brought her home. She'd clearly been abused by a man as she was tentative with me and the foster father, and starved. She was a mess of skin and bones and scared of everything. I devoted myself to bringing her back, and it was a ton of work. She's a willful breed, but I raised her with patience, love, and respect and her fears evaporated. What an amazing being. That was 13 years ago, and it was the best thing we could've done. We often said back then that Kaya sent Lillie to us. They're so alike in so many ways, except that Lil loves the car. Loves going to Home Depot.

But here we are again, nearer to the end. Just did PRP on her right legs and will do another round next month on her lefts. Were just buying time, we know, but besides the arthritis, she still very much herself. Yet, that hard decision is on the horizon once again. It will be a terrible day. But just like Lillie brought a light back into our home after Kayas passing, we'll slowly move on and do it all over again.

I'm not suggesting that you do the same but try not to rule it out in time. I think it may be the best cure for a broken heart.

1 hour ago, PhishLI said:

I even had a dream one day where I heard something rustling in the back yard, and when I looked out the sliders, I saw her there. She ran right to the door. I let her in, picked her up, then the tears started flowing. I put her down and had her follow me upstairs to our bedroom where my wife was watching TV. When she saw Kaya, she was shocked and asked how this was possible? I told her that I'd traded some of my time for her. Then I woke up. The tears were real. At that point in time, if there was a world where a deal like that could've been made, I might have made it as crazy as that sounds.

I cried through your entire post, but I felt ^this^ in my bones and belly.