People don't realize how much they love something until it's gone. So true.
About two months ago, I got a beagle named Daisy. Before we even got her, things weren't going well. Everyone except me was regretting getting the dog. Then we got her, and she never got house trained. She learned how to sit, and that was it. Her pulling on the lease made my shoulders ache while I drew, which annoyed me, because I always am drawing. My mom and dad were irriatable, more so than usual. My brother constantly complained. Daisy picked up on nothing, had no attention span, destoryed everything that came in her path- toys, napkins, rugs, paper. Yet she was a quiet dog. Sweet, affectionate, cute.
I knew it would come. Yesterday I learned we were getting rid of her. My dad had had the last straw after she doodooed twice in her crate- her own doggy form of protest for being forced into that cage every night. Of course, she was forced into the cage so she'd be easier to house-train... Had to wrong effect, I guess.
My sister had cried. She had been complaining about Daisy, blaming our having her on me, joked about sending her back to the shelter where we got her. Now that we're getting rid of her, she spends all her time with the dog. Talking to Daisy, petting Daisy, following Daisy everywhere. Praising her everytime she blinks.
I don't feel much sympathy. I'm the one that should feel all the sadness, but I guess I saw this coming a mile away. But I even think my mom and dad are having second thoughts. But I think getting rid of her is the right thing. She is an outside dog, and we don't have a fenced yard, so she doesn't spend as much time outside as she'd like. We're always yelling at her, making her go into the crate. We just aren't the right owners. We're getting rid of her maybe tomorrow, maybe Sunday.
At the same time, I will miss her. I will. I teared up a little when I found out she was going back to the shelter.
Why is it you don't realize how much you like something until you loose it? When have you found you actually liked something after you lost it?
I had that...but it wasnt with a dog :/ I think its because you dont relize that you actually like doing one of the things taht makes it special/bad/ blah so you miss that and that gives you a feeling of sorrow and you start to love it. I'm sure thats the same thing i had...but.....no....i dont think ya'll want to hear mine.
I know how you feel. Even though I was too little to understand why, I had to leave my border collie, Canica, back in Mexicao when we returned to the States. I was practically screaming when we had to leave for the airport. I never realised how mush I loved her until I had to leave. I've experienced that all my life, and it's not a nice thing to experience. And I may experience it yet again with my cat, but we're not sure.
It's true. You never realize how much you love something until it's gone. I hope that you'll be okay...=^:^=
Oh my god man..I'm gonna cry..:'(. No but really, that's sad..ok well there was this girl at my school that I wasn't very fond of..she truly thinks I'm a "heart-throb". She follows me everywhere, and constantly annoyed me. Then I had found out she was moving. She was crying so much because she said she was going to miss me. I felt TERRIBLE for telling her to leave me alone..I practically shoved her out of my life, and there she was crying saying how much she was going to miss me. I miss her too, that ol' annoying kid..
[I'm a proud Nayrulian!] [Raised by Manga Oni-Link and Kittie Kara.] [Awesome Golden Sun siggy by Lioness! And Avy courtsey of DarkTachyon]
It's no where near as bad as losing a pet-but I had a very large stuffed rabbit that a family friend won for me when I went to the circus. This was when I was 4 years old and I;m ow nearly 19. My mom decided to tell me JUST before I had to take an aptitude test for a job that she'd thrown him in the bin. ;_;
I hated myself for not paying attention to the rabbit until it had gone.
Believe me, my plushies mean a lot more to me than you think...
Well, I never really had a pet....but I did find a family of kittens in our backyard. I found them one glorious day when I was mowing the yard. Lucky for me I was looking on the grass in front of the lawn mower or I would have ran over them. So I took in the family of kittens and asked if I could keep them atleast until they were grown, reluctantly my mom said yes.
They were adorable, They were still nursing. The mother we named Snickers because she was black, brown, and a carmely color. Her three kittens were black, light orange, and dark orange. The names were Felix, Oscar, and Garfield-the dark orange one had long hair so it made him look fat,lol. But out of all of them Oscar was my fav.-he never ran away when you came to pet him, he was just plain sweet. So this continued for about a year-and my mom said we had to give them away. I cried. My mom drove Snickers to the humaine society *(she was meowing mornfully the whole way)* and I never saw her again-but my mom told me when I was little that she had found a family and that they would not kill her untill they did-yeah right....So eventually we had to give away the kittens as well. But I had had it. I was never going to let my mom take them away. (the only reason why is because our whole family is allergic to cats/animal fur except me-lucky huh?) So my mom let me keep one. I choose Oscar-but I was not happy to let the others go. Never saw them again either.
So for about 3 year s we had Oscar. My mom let me keep him fortuaneatly. But I could not let him in the house, I had to feed and play with him on the back pourch. So everry day before school I would go out to feed him and check up on him in the morning. He would always go outside after breakfast for about an hour and explore,and then come back in as if to check up on me.lol. But one day he never came back after breakfast. My mom took me in the car looking for him but we never found him.......
That was about 5 years ago....I have never seen Oscar since.
I cried for a while but I had to let him go my mom said. So I guess you are right, Miniblin, you do not realize how much you miss something until its gone...and I am never going to get another pet. Because I am still waiting for Oscar to come back.
A stuffed rabbit..*cracks up* err..I mean I feel for ya h'ey old pal..*laughs*
Well, I did say it wasn't as bad as losing a pet you know. It's not like the rabbit was my whole life, but it still sucked to lose him without being told-my mom doesn't normally do things like that.
Did you have to be so insensitive? I was bullied when I was a kid for having eczema and liking Sonic, so it was hard to make friends. Also, 'old pal'? You know I'm a girl right?
I hope you're both doing ok...
*hands cookie to DekuQeen and Miniblin*
I hope Oscar does come back, it must feel horrible, the not-knowing what happened to him, I hope he's ok though. :/
And I guess the answer to your inital question is that maybe it's just human nature to take things for granted? That everything will be ok until something goes wrong?
Ok Ok I'm sry h'ey, *apoligizes* I shoulda put j/k in there.
Edit: Okay and now I just read something in your post COMPLETELY UNFAIR,IT WASN't YOUR FAULT!!! Bullying for having ezcema, that's TRASH!!! My friend has that disease, rashes pop up random places and itch alot! And you don't know it's going to happen! It's not your fault you had ezcema! You couldn't prevent it, and they bully you, wow I would just wanna give'em a sucker punch right in the gut!! I'm REALLY sorry for being so insensitive..really..
[I'm a proud Nayrulian!] [Raised by Manga Oni-Link and Kittie Kara.] [Awesome Golden Sun siggy by Lioness! And Avy courtsey of DarkTachyon]
DekuQueen, I know how you feel.
I found out about two years ago that my dog (the one mentioned before) was pregnant at the time we left to return to the states. So you can imagine how pissed off I was. I demanded to know what happened to the puppies, and my uncle told me that they all died except one, and that he gave it to his next door neighbors. Of course I went to go see him, and I was absolutely pissed when I saw that they had cut off his tail and half of his ears. I couldn't bear how they were treating my dog's son. And then I found out that Canica died shortly after the puppies were born.
I wonder how Pinco is doing now. I hated to leave him like that. I haven't seen him in three years. I hope you're doing okay about Daisy, Miniblin. And H'ey, I know how important stuffed animals can be to someone. *gives papyas to everyone here* Have a papaya.
Well I had the same sort of situation, except that it was my uncle not a pet. While I wasn't as close to him as I should've been, I still cared very much for him. I don't know what happened to him but my mom said it had something to do with my aunt sending him to a mental institute when nothing was wrong with him, then after he came back he was 'messed up.' I never really thought of him till he passed away, now that I think of it I really do miss him. Don't worry though soon you will probably forget all about it if it happens.
I feel sorry for all you guys...whether it be people, animals, or plushies (), Losing things we care deeply about is a real drag. I've lost a LOT of pets in the past.
Let me start by saying that I used to live on a farm--not a farm with animals like pigs and cows and horses, just a farm setting that had barns and sheds and stuff. We used the barns to store stuff but...whatever. Point is my old house was a farm in the sense that we had a couple big red barns and a large penned-in area that was originally for cows.
With all that space, we of course needed some animals to fill it up. Not animals like cows, we wanted...dogs, or cats. Well, first thing we did was buy two puppies from a someone in the newspaper. The dang things were in a litter of about 15 or so, I can remember picking them up (I was about nine at the time). The owners weren't home, so we had to open this huge kennel with all those little crazy dogs in it and somehow get only two of them. Needless to say, some got out and we had to drag to the kennel. After a lot of work, we finally picked out two, put them in a box, and took them home.
We loved those little guys. Well, girls actually...they were both female. We named them Sammy and Patches. Sammy was a yellow lab/golden retriever mix, and Patches was a German Shepered/black lab mix. Mutts, but cute mutts. We kept them in a very large, fenced area that connected to a barn--a huge area for these dogs to stay in. We got them little doghouses that we kept in the barn, as well as water and food bowls. It was a good setup for them. We ended up having them for all the nine years we lived there. Good times were had with those dogs. We loved them a lot. Every night I would fall asleep to them howling and barking at God knows what. It sounds like it would be annoying but somehow it was soft and soothing.
Well, about a year ago we moved away from that farm, to a more suburban area...so obviously we had to get rid of Sammy and Patches. At our new house there is no room for them anywhere. We had to hand them over to the Humane Society, where they were undoubtedly put to sleep...two mutts that don't have a snowball's chance of getting picked up by a family...sounds like a shoe-in to me. Anyway, moving from that house and getting rid of those dogs was very sad for me...I had known them since I was a kid.
And don't even get me started on cats...we have owned (and lost) so many cats over the years it's absurd. I can remember a few...keep in mind these were all outside cats, as the only reason we got them was to keep the rodent population down in our huge yard.
Caesie: Pronounced "Kessie", this was our first cat. A very pretty one, with brown and black fur. It was the sweetest little thing you've ever seen. Always affectionate, friendly, loved to be pet. One time, it ran away. We were devestated. Three whole months later, it came back. Bedraggled and skinny, it came waltzing down our driveway one evening. Quite amazing. A few months later, Caesie was diagnosed with feline leukemia and had to be put to sleep. Never saw her again (duh).
Mandy: We got this one shortly after Caesie. Not a very attractive cat, it was just a plain gray tabby. We had this one for quite a while. It got pregnant a few years after we got it, and had a whole big litter of kittens. Now those things were adorable. There were so many of them, we played with them all the time. (This is when me and my siblings were nine and ten remember). After a couple weeks though, Mandy ran away with all her kittens, never saw them again.
Snowball: This was a short-lived little kitty. We got him in Caesie's absence, he was a kind of bad-tempered little guy--he reminded me of a moody teenager. I can remember one time I was holding him while my dad lit a very loud sparkler on Fourth of July, the guy ripped out of my hands so fast he cut a chunk of skin off with his claws. Very high-strung.
This may seem awful, but Snowball was killed by our dogs. He got into their pen somehow and predictably, he got slaughtered. I didn't know until about a year later when I was mature enough to handle it. Until then my parents just said he ran away. I don't blame them.
Sirus and Orion: Two kittens that we got from a neighbor. Cute little buggers. One was white and black if I remember right, and the other was darker colored. They were spry little guys, alway running around and climbing on our woodpile when we let them. We had them for a short time before they met the same fate as Snowball. My dad was so angry he was thinking of giving the dogs away; he thought they were doing more bad than good. He said that out of anger though, we never really considered giving them away.
Katt: Our last cat. Also the best cat. He was a plain gray tabby like Mandy, but built differently--short and stocky instead of lanky and skinny. He also had a big head. Katt was (and is, as far as I know), one of the most intelligent cats I've ever seen. Not intelligent like trained, intelligent like he knew what the deal was. I think he knew why we we got him (to kill mice), and made sure he did that. He always brought his spoils to the doorstep, as to make sure we knew he killed something. Some days there was just a clump of bloody fur outside our door and we knew that Katt had killed another mouse/rat/rabbit/bird or whatever. Sometime during the period of time when we were moving (as in packing all the stuff up in our barns and moving boxes), Katt ran away. We thought that he figured we were leaving the house and couldn't take him, so he left. Let it be known that if Katt had not ran away, we would have given him to the Humane Society, where he would have been put to sleep.
Katt almost met the same fate as Snowball and Sirus and Orion. One night, when me and my dad were up working in one of the sheds, we heard awful noises coming from the dog pen...something was getting the beatdown, and we suspected it was our cat. We ran our asses down there and were shocked.
In the dog pen, there is a large machine coming out of the side of the barn that it's connected to--a sort of conveyor that was used, in its day, to bring food from outside the barn to inside. On this machine (it was a long, metal arm-type thing that ended in a hollow metal cranny) was our two dogs, barking furiously at the metal cranny on the end. They were also trying to shove their heads in but the opening was too small. We shooed the dogs away (furiously; my dad kicked at them), and locked them in the barn. In the metal compartent at the end of the machine, we found Katt, bleeding and shivering, scared out of his wits. But alive. He had escaped the wrath of our dogs by doing something none of our other cats had done: being quick and hiding somewhere the dogs could not possibly reach him, a small compartment at the end of the largest structure in the kennel. We were amazed.
We got him out of there somehow and gave him food and water. He cleaned his own wounds, like any cat would. Seemed pretty calm too. Considering he just narrowly escaped getting torn apart by two wild dogs, that is.
Well, like I said, we moved from the farm about a year ago. And when we moved we thought Katt had left for good. But in the months following moving to the new house, we had to continuously go back to the old house to move some more boxes, clean out another storage area, help the new owners with a problem in a barn...normal stuff. But one day, when we were moving junk out of a final barn, we saw Katt.
He just walked right up to us. Cool as ice. Started meowing and stuff. We of course started barraging him with pets and scratches behind the ears. The wierdest part was, he wasn't skinny or gaunt or anything--he looked fairly healthy. We guessed that the new owners of the house had been feeding him. It was the wierdest thing.
That was about three months ago. I haven't seen Katt since. He's probably being fed and loved by the owners of the new house...either that or he ran away and is dead somewhere. I sure hope not. He was one of my favorite pets. Since we moved into the new house, my parents have thought of getting a dog (a basenji to be more exact), but the idea died off. We moved here to make our lives simpler...my parents were getting too old to maintain a farm. A dog would just cause more headaches; I think we can all agree with that.
Wow, sorry that was so long. If you didn't read it all I understand. Once again, my sympathies to you if you've ever lost a pet, family member, or anything, that you loved a lot. It hurts.
Whoah... Nighthawk, that's a lot... Sorry buddy! *Huggles*
It reminds me of my daddy's stories. He went through about five dogs from the time he was a baby to the time he was eight. Lemme think...
Two were afgan hounds. One was a nervous wreck, so they got rid of it, and the other... I forgot about the other, but there was something wrong with it too. I don't remember the rest of the dogs, but there were a lot.
Also he had cats, even though he's allergic to them. Two died from distemper, a nasty brain disease (If I know my animal diseases.) He stayed up with them all night while they howled in pain, and in the morning they were as stiff as a board.
One died falling off a roof, another ran away, another was poisoned, another was killed by the neighbor's dogs, etc, etc. Cat after cat.
Finally he got Tessie, a supposed "German shepard pure breed", although it more resembled a golden retriever. They kept that dog, though it had epilepsy (sp?) and had seizures. Tessie sounds like the sweetest dog (He got her when he was eight), and I think that may be one reason my dad's getting us a new dog. He wants us to experiance it.
My loss was not much compared to some of yours... I'm sure Daisy will go to a new home. One that's better for her. But life seems so empty, like there's a big hole. Everyone's... quiet. I walk into my kitchen and Daisy isn't jumping on my leg, sliding down it with her claws digging into my leg. She's not barking in the morning. She's not demanding to go outside just to try and kill Polo. Oh, yes. Polo. I consider him a pet. Polo is from a bunny litter that was in our front yard (I could tell him apart from the rest because of a big white splotch on his forehead). We sent the rest to the woods so they wouldn't destroy our yard, but we kept Polo because he ran away so fast. They all could fit in the palm of your hand and just sat there. Soft as anything. Polo's name comes from Marco Polo, of course. Because he's an explorer! Anyway, Daisy, being a beagle, would bark at him and go wild on her lease trying to reach Polo, though I wouldn't budge. Polo, on the other hand, just sat there, staring. He didn't bother to move. And then, when he felt like it, he'd flash his little white tail and hope across the yard to stare at Daisy. She'd go even more wild, barking and panting and howling. Polo just sat there. I'll miss that ._.
But I think I'm okay now. I've lost a dog before. Jack. We only had him for three weeks, and even though I'll never forget him, I got over it. And I know I'll get over Daisy.