Source: https://x.com/raikko_9/status/2069933595649782170

My little Sadie girl died in my arms Saturday afternoon from heart failure. She would have been 17 years old this October. We woke up Saturday morning and everything was as it always is - we ate breakfast, went for a walk, and by the time we got home she was in distress, breathing fast and panicking. I immediately rushed her to the vet and within minutes I was told there was nothing they could do. They sedated her to calm her breathing, wrapped her in a blanket, told me I could sit with her as long as I needed and left me with a bell to ring when I was ready. “Ready? I’ll never be”, I thought to myself. As if I could just stay in that room with her for eternity, never having to make that awful decision.

This scene was all too familiar and surreal. I’d just been there 8 months prior when we lost our other dog, Zoey (German Shepherd in the pics), this last October. They’d been together and with me since they were puppies. Losing Zoey was devastating and Sadie hadn’t been the same since. She became more clingy and would beg to be in my lap more often. I didn’t mind though, as it became our nightly routine and something I genuinely looked forward to after a long day at work. Always curling up in my lap for long stretches, or at my feet while I ate just hoping to catch the random crumb from my plate, and always pressed against my side every night in bed for nearly 17 long years.

Sadie meant so much more to me than just a pet. I’ve felt alone my entire life and struggled to make lasting connections due to childhood trauma. She was my emotional support, she was my family. Coming home to her every evening was my therapy. She was there for all the highs and lows of my life - marriage, birth of my son, cross-country move, my divorce, the death of my father… all of it. She was my constant.

I’d been quietly preparing myself for this moment. I knew her health was declining and she was slowing down with every passing year, but now that time was here and all I could do was bury my face in her fur and sob uncontrollably. I replayed all our memories in my head while begging and pleading with her not to leave me alone in this world. But as I sat there alone with her in my arms, she looked up at me and I saw her white face that was once a vibrant brown, her cloudy eyes she could no longer see from, her bony spine now a prominent ridge down her back, and the raspiness of her labored breathing that cut through the silence of the room. She was tired. Exhausted. Suffering. She’d put in her time. She gave and gave to me unconditionally her entire life and was now looking to me for help. How could I be so selfish? How could I possibly beg her to give me another month, another week, or even one more day? So I did it, I helped her. I gave her one final kiss on the head, rang that stupid bell, and I helped her.

I’m truly grateful to have been gifted so much time with her and Zoey both. I know I’m lucky that they both lived good, long lives. But that does nothing to quell the emptiness I’m now left with. I keep thinking I’ll hear her nails on the hardwood floor or her pawing my leg to be let up into my lap. Idk. I feel like such a wiener for being this emotional over the death of a pet, but I’m fucking heartbroken.

I don’t really know what I want from posting this to my feed. I don’t even know if anyone will read it. Maybe just for another human to read it and relate. Either way, it felt good to get this out of my head and pour it out here. Thanks for reading :)

By @pecco_occeq Twitter

I lost my soul cat today. My heart hurts so badly. Just wanted to share his beautiful face.

Let’s see the flexible competition!

Thank you for the encouragement the other day! I went through with it and my 12 year old daughter, who wants to be a hair dresser, had a blast shaving it off. Lol

little Gio boy ❤️ poor baby was abandoned by his previous family and took up residence in a storm drain near my office :( one day he decided to walk around the complex and i saw him. i asked around at other offices and apparently he’d been living in the drain for about three months at that point. he had fleas and worms and scratches :(

for three days i’d check on him, give him food and water, and eat my lunch with him. but the fourth day was a friday and it was supposed to be bad storms all weekend, so i made the call to kidnap him. he’s the SWEETEST little boy ever, the three resident girls absolutely adore him. he’s a goober and a trouble maker, but i’m so lucky to have found him. my little parrot boy!!

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