Why Cant they Live Longer?

Discussion in 'Off Topic [BG]' started by MAJOR METAL, Dec 14, 2005.


    MAJOR METAL HARVESTER OF SORROW Staff Member Supporting Member

    Dont you wish that Dogs and Cats could have a longer life span? , i sure do. Tonight at 8 pm i am going with my very good friends to say good bye to their Yellow Lab Orla before she is put to sleep. She is 13 years old and she is having some pretty serious breathing spasams that would take extensive surgery to fix and at her age it dosent seem like it would be fair to put her through all that.Orla and i had a very special repour since i would very often give her dinner , when i would be their i would announce at 4.30 pm " Feeding Time " and she would do a whole dinner dance till she got fed. Animals are special. :)
  2. couldn't agree more. Sorry to here about Orla.
  3. IotaNet

    IotaNet Supporting Member

    Sorry to hear that, MM -

    The remorse of a pet dying always seems kinda silly/trite until you go through it. Like it or not, they become "members of the family" and you (really!) do miss them when they're gone. :(
  4. Gard

    Gard Commercial User

    Mar 31, 2000
    Greensboro, NC, USA
    General Manager, Roscoe Guitars
    Kevin, I'm with you...when my cat Anniken had to be....sent to the next life....:bawl:....I missed a full day of work.

    My present cat is 15, and has recently been diagnosed with kidney failure. It isn't terminal yet, but he requires a LOT of attention now, IV fluids several times a week, a few medicines, special food. When he stops being happy with his life, which he is very happy right now, I will give him the same respect and kindness that your friends are giving Orla tonight.

    And I will :bawl: for several days afterward.

    They are like my children, and I totally agree, WHY can't they live longer, they are such a huge part of our lives.

  5. bigbeefdog

    bigbeefdog Who let the dogs in?

    Jul 7, 2003
    Mandeville, LA
    Not silly to me. I've missed each and every one I had... and I'm set up for a lot of misery at the moment, with three dogs and three cats living at my place at the moment.

    The one that will hit me hardest is when my 140# Great Pyrenees reaches that point. There's no way to really thank her for what she did that day a guy dressed as a repairman tried to first talk, then push, his way into the house when my wife and kids were home.

    My condolences, Kevin. If there's any silver lining, it's that a space is now opened up for another one who's currently homeless.
  6. Brad Barker

    Brad Barker Supporting Member

    Apr 13, 2001
    berkeley, ca
    yeah, definitely. both of my childhood kitties succumbed to cancer over the past year. :(

    if there's anything good out of the short life spans of dogs and cats is that they allow for all of the varieties we see today. :meh:
  7. mikemulcahy


    Jun 13, 2000
    The Abyss
    Every living organism has a life cycle, no getting around it.

  8. only if they aged slower to accomadate the longer living...
  9. lbpark

    lbpark Supporting Member

    Apr 23, 2005
    Mobile, Al.
    I had a cat who died when he was about 13. He was a large mancoon and very good with kids. After he went missing for a day, we found him under the porch having severe breathing problems. I missed school that day. :bawl:

    On the positive side, my present cat is about 18 years old. I took her to the vet. a few months ago and apparently the cat has the metabolism and heart rate of a one year old cat. :hyper:
  10. Muzique Fann

    Muzique Fann Howzit brah

    Dec 8, 2003
    Kauai, HI
    Well, look at it this way...
    13 dog years = 77 human years.
    So your pooch lived a pretty long life :)

    MAJOR METAL HARVESTER OF SORROW Staff Member Supporting Member

    Unfortunetly she had a major breathing spasam before we were all set to go to the clinic tonight and they had to let her go before i could see her. RIP Orla you were a great friend.
  12. I feel your pain :(

    My friends cat Scooter was 18, and got FIV. The last little bit before he got put down he was really skinny and it was obvious he was in a lot of pain. It didn't stop him from laying on me in the middle of the night though like he always did, so whenever I stayed over I would wake up with a wide awake cat staring right at my face. It was freaky the first two times, and no matter how many times I stayed over there, I would always wake up with good old Scooter laying on my chest. I miss him tonnes.

    Orla is always going to have a spot in your heart, whether you like it or not :)
  13. jive1

    jive1 Moderator Staff Member Supporting Member Commercial User

    Jan 16, 2003
    Owner/Retailer: Jive Sound
    My condolences Kevin. My bud Bozo is now 12 or so years old, and he ain't a puppy anymore. He's still happy, even though he's having a little harder time getting around. He's a great dog.

    It's not often you have a buddy that walks 40 miles to find his way home. That's what Bozo did. I found him near Mt. St. Helens, and I brought him back to Boulder, Colorado. My room-mates lost him at Red Rocks Ampitheatre. Since I only had him for a week, I figured he's just one of those stray dogs. Well, the next morning we heard scratching and clawing at the apartment window. It was my buddy Bozo who walked from Red Rocks Ampitheatre to Boulder, Colorado (approx 40 miles). He was wet and dirty, he licked all of us once and then fell fast asleep.

    12 years later, and I find that there is no replacing this friend. We went from being wild pups to gentle old hounds together.
  14. JimK


    Dec 12, 1999
    Ten years ago, my yellow Lab-mix was stolen & I missed 2 weeks of work as I scoured many, many neighborhoods 24/7.
    (We got her back after posting a sizable reward in the paper...people's greed cannot be underestimated; the cops didn't want to pursue the matter, they did bitch me out for paying the reward, though).

    I guess the planet would be overrun by cats & dogs?
    I'm somewhat content that God only gives us x-amount of time with these nice creatures...
  15. jetsetvet

    jetsetvet Banned

    Mar 24, 2005
    I am a vet, and am witness to, and steward of, the end-stages of many pets' lives. Although I must maintain a level of objectivity and detachment in order to best do my job, I feel the sadness of every one of my clients that lose their pet, and truly understand and embrace their pain.

    I don't know why pets don't live longer than they do, philosophically speaking. But in my experience, the birth, life, and death of my pets helped put the transience of my own life in clearer perspective, and has fortified my reverence for life, in general. In this way, I believe that for anyone, especially a child, to lose a pet, there is a lesson to be learned and an emotional cleansing to be experienced that in the long-run, is enriching and empowering. It clearly is a good thing to understand at an early age that life is surpisingly fragile, shockingly brief, and more precious than any worldly possession.
  16. Nothing like losing a good pet. I can't imagine a better cat than Sam... he will be the gold standard against which all cats are judged from now on. There was something special about him, I don't know if it was the Thai food, or the popcorn, or the incredible trust and eagerness to obey me. The rush to greet me when I got home. A truly rare cat.

  17. FireBug


    Sep 18, 2005
    By Jim Willis

    When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.

    My housetraining took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed, listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

    Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

    She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

    As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them, especially their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

    I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams. Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being your dog to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

    Now you have a new career opportunity in another city and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

    I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog or cat, even one with "papers."

    You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

    After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

    They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

    I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table, rubbed my ears and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

    She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"

    Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. With my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.

    May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

    For the record, this is the saddest thing I have read to date. It is extremely well-written and I have yet to read a piece which evokes so much emotion.
  18. mikemulcahy


    Jun 13, 2000
    The Abyss
    Oh I have read better :bawl: :bawl: :bawl: .

    Now let me go hug my own dog,

  19. spectorbass83


    Jun 6, 2005
    Agreed...it's sad and I hate to see it happen.
  20. Tash


    Feb 13, 2005
    Bel Air Maryland
    I lost my kitten Sniff to kidney disease in September. I still miss him a great deal.

    Animals are important, they give a loyalty and love few people can match. Its never easy to let one go.