Grief and guilt
I don't usually write things like this, but I'm having difficulty and think I need to get it out. I had to put down my dog Willow on Monday (two days ago, as of writing), and I am not okay.
This is not the first pet I've lost. Several childhood pets, but those weren't really mine, they were my parents', and so I didn't have the same level of responsibility over the animal as I did with Willow.
Even of my pets, this is not the first loss. In 2022, I adopted a retired working dog Yukon and an elderly cat Gomez. We lost Yukon in May 2024 (aspiration pneumonia due to megaesophagus) and Gomez in May 2025 (renal failure). The renal failure was a prolonged decline, and so while we tried to manage the disease we had some time to come to terms with things. The pneumonia was very fast decline and more of a shock. I loved them both, but this now feels much worse. I guess because I only really knew them 1 1/2 and 2 1/2 years respectively. I feel guilty about that, like it shouldn't matter and I should have grieved for them the same, but I don't.
This was the first pet that was mine, in the sense that my wife and I have had full responsibility for her the entire 10 years we've had her. She was the best behaved dog I've ever had. Always by my side at home. Especially when I worked from home during/after Covid lockdowns I took her with me wherever I could. Loyal. I just killed her.
Well, I didn't do it, we took her to a vet and they did typical euthanasia. It doesn't feel like the difference matters.
Willow also had renal failure, which we learned about at stage 3 (already severe) in January. The past few months have brought back a lot of pain about Gomez since it was the same disease. Realistically, the fact she made it all the way to May still walking on her own is remarkable. Meals have been challenging for the past month or so. Since late last week she refused to eat, and her condition deteriorated quickly over the weekend. We knew this was coming, but childishly it somehow felt like she'd just keep going forever because she'd been doing so well. Of course that's not how it works, but I guess it's easier to imagine that things are normal.
I think we gave her the best final day we could. We took her to the same pet stores, park, restaurants we used to take her to when she was in her prime. I got her some drive-thru chicken nuggets, her favorite, and she actually ate all of them! She must have been hungry. I want to believe I could have kept feeding her fast food for a few more days or weeks or months, but I know it's simply not true. She moved slow, but still walked on her own at the park and pet store. By the time we arrived at the vet she seemed satisfied, tired, and ready for a nap.
I don't know.
As I say, I've done this before and I roughly know the "usual" advice about grief and how it seems to work for me. My wife and I support each other. We still have other pets, and it helps a little to hold them. Enduring a death the same month three years in a row is taking its toll. All our other pets seem healthy and relatively young, and I'm not superstitious, but some deep emotional part of me can't help but fear May 2027. I think I'm just tired.
Our cat Pinto, still a 9-month old kitten, we've had since she was newborn and abandoned by her mother. We think she was abandoned because she couldn't latch properly to nurse, so we fed her on bottle day and night. Given how much it hurt about Yukon and Gomez after just a couple years, already old when we adopted them, and how much it hurts now about Willow after 11 years, who was a young adult when we adopted her, I am terrified of losing Pinto. I know it'll happen. I don't know what I'll do.
The quality of the pain doesn't really feel new, but the quantity is so much worse than I expected. Feeling guilty about that is new. The fear is new. Not really sure how to process it. You're not supposed to have favorites but I guess you do anyway.
I don't really know what I'm trying to get out of posting this. Pity? Not really. I guess I just need to get it out of my head. I'll probably look back at this thread in a few days to see what people have said but I think I just need to get this out and step away from it for a while and process.
I'm really sorry to hear about your loss. I had to do this with our family dog that we had since he was a puppy last fall and it took me months to fully get over it. I think you know you did the right thing here. It is natural, or at least common, to second guess yourself about everything you did for you pet and beat yourself up over it. I surely did it to myself. You should try to give yourself some grace. You loved your dog and did everything you reasonably could for her. I takes time to grief and recover from loss. Just try to not let it steer you in any crazy directions.
Same position here. Overcome with all the feelings of "If I just would've had more money we could've kept trying." But as someone on this site told me once, "it's better to let them go a day too early than a day too late." You did the hardest thing, but it was still important.
I'm sorry for your loss friend; carrying that grief just means you loved fiercely and the memories are evidence of that.
I'm going through the same thing. We let go of my lil buddy Monday. Batman was the first guy that was ours. He was about 17, dude had an insane constitution, oh the stories I could tell. We got Robin second but she was the first of ours to pass, a couple years ago now, somewhat suddenly. She had neurological problems, but an event during Thanksgiving was when she departed.
Batman got the best final day we could muster, chicken nuggets included. The weather was nice. He liked flashy anime with big swords.
Such a mix of grief and guilt, I'm not OK either, collapsing sobbing several times a day. Thing is, you feel guilty for doing it, but you'd also feel guilty for waiting too long. I don't think there's any "beating" the guilt when you're responsible for them, I hope processing the grief helps you move through it. We gave him the best life we could, I'm sure you did the same for Willow.
I'm so sorry for your loss, I hope it feels a little less lonely hearing someone else going through it too. It isn't fair, it fucking sucks.
I am so sorry you are suffering with this. (and carrow, too.)
I am old enough to have dealt with this a lot. Pets are family to me, and like you, the responsibility and the grief are deep. Last year we lost our 3 senior cats in a 3 month period-- cancer, multiple organ failure and kidney disease. They were 18, 20 and 21, but that really didn't matter. If anything we were more attached and their loss was tangible. I lost two dogs to the same very rare blood cancer 7 years apart.
Here's the thing. Euthanizing them is killing them, but they were going to die, no matter how well you cared for them or how much you loved them. Maybe they would have had a few more days or more, but they would have been days of suffering. you took that suffering from them, and in a way took it on yourself. That is love. The pain you feel is love. The guilt, well that is the byproduct of forgetting for a moment that you could not have stopped the process, all you could do is make is as gentle for them as possible. You bore your responsibilities to them all the way to the end.
When I was young, my first cat had kidney failure and I kept her going for years. I could not bear to put her to sleep. She died having seizures on the way to the vet. That first dog with the rare cancer? She died from seizures the next day while we were waiting for the lab results. We tried rushing her back to the vet but didn't make it. The look in her eyes between seizures--confusion, terror...I would not wish such a thing on any creature. I was my mother's caretaker when she died of cancer, during Covid. It was not painless or gentle. What we do for our pets, when we can do it, is in my opinion, the best gift we can possibly give them.
Thanks for writing that, that was very good insight into the process. All of the honest and painful comments in this thread are interesting and useful. It sounds like you learned in a very painful way, thanks for writing it out and sharing it.
Thank you for your comment!
I'm so sorry for your loss. I have two dogs and two cats and I am a wreck every time. One of my cats is my loyal sidekick and I imagine I will have a similar issue when the time comes.
As for not being sure as to why you wrote this post, writing about grief is a great way to help you process grief. My mother was a social worker and it was her go to when helping her clients. I found this workbook talking about it if you're interested at all.
We rescued 2 senior cats named Marco and Des a number of years ago and only had a few years with them and I was absolutely devastated when we had to say goodbye even though I knew it would happen eventually, and sooner than if we had adopted a younger cat. They passed about a year apart from each other and I kept feeling so emotional that Marco didn’t have his brother Des around that last year. It gave me some solace when he passed that they were ‘together again’, but I still carried this guilt that I did something wrong and didn’t try getting him another friend until it was too late and he was too old, and the new cat was too young and they didn’t get along. We had to keep them separated due to his health and I still feel emotional when I think about how he couldn’t sleep in bed with us like he always wanted to, even though near the end I was sleeping on the couch with him due to the guilt.
I know it’s a bit corny, but time really does heal. Let yourself grieve, it’s natural. These aren’t just animals, they’re our companions. Looking back I know I did the best I could in giving them a loving home in their sunset years, and most of what I was feeling at the time is me projecting my own complex human emotions onto an animal that might not be able to experience such feelings as deeply as I. I’m sure you did your best too.
Someone in /r/seniorkitties told me to be kind to myself, and it has stuck with me, and I want to say the same to you. Be kind to yourself friend.
I had to put down my dog earlier this year also. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I've only cried a handful of times as an adult, and that was the most visceral, brutal sobbing I've ever experienced. I was sad as I knew it was coming up, but I didn't expect to be so overwhelmed by sadness and grief in the moment when the vet actually did it and his eyes closed.
He was my best friend and was with me for some of the hardest struggles I had. Just like your dog, he was the best behaved dog I've ever owned, ever even interacted with. He never annoyed me or frustrated me, he was just such a good boy and he had such a unique personality.
It took me a while before I was functional, a few weeks I'd guess. I still always think about him though. I think I'm going to miss him for the rest of my life in some way. Every so often I come home and expect him to be there, but then remember that he isn't and won't ever be, and it leaves me with this hollow feeling inside.
Everyone says it gets better with time, and it really does, but I don't know that it ever goes away. In my experience with grief, there will always be that little dog shaped hole in your heart that will feel like its missing, unfortunately.
I know from personal experience that the regret of waiting too long to end your pet's suffering is way worse than the grief and guilt associated with choosing to do it before it gets to that point. I can tell that you love your pets, and I just want you to know that I fully believe you made the right decision.
I am so, so sorry for your loss. My dad is a vet, and I grew up working in his clinic. Seeing it from that side is not the same as knowing what you are going through, but I want to echo @ahatlikethat 's excellent words and say that you did the right thing, the best thing you could do for a friend.
I don't think you're seeking pity. I think you don't want to be alone while you're grieving. I hesitate to speak for all Tildepolitans, but we're honored to be here with you. I'm so sorry that happened to you, all of it. Life is rough.
So much else that needs to be said has already been said here, so I'll leave it there.
I'm fully with you on that I'm honoured to be a small part of TangibleLight's grieving process, and to be invited to a small memorial held in the honour of Willow and Gomez and Yukon as well. Goodbye small friends, I wish we lived in a different kind of world where tears and goodbyes and suffering does not happen, especially to little ones so innocent and full of love and deserving of much much longer lifespans.
There are some English words that I find tricky without understanding why, and I found this quote from Reddit might explain a little:
I certainly feel sympathy, in this case, but I do not feel like this event defines their way of pet ownership or them as a whole, I think.
I went though the same thing last year. She wasn’t my parents dog she was my dog.
A year later and I still cry when I think about her. I still think about the silence that she left behind. And I still think about how rough her last year with me was. When she died I listened to a specific song over and over and I associate her death with that song now. So whenever that song comes up for me I immediately cry. I don’t know if it’ll ever soften. I miss her often.
It might sound strange to say, but I am so grateful, happy even for my vet's euthanasia offerings. (Heavy subject matter below, please do skip if you don't feel up to reading it.)
The reason stems from a prior pet I had, named Harley. He was named because he looked like a Harlequin (black and white) but it gradually became a silly nickname for 'Harley Davidson.' He liked to play-bite, and was both very affectionate and a bit of a trickster at the same time. Lots of late-night struggles to get him inside over the years. We had our scares with Harley too, over his life--most prominently, the time he either got attacked by an animal or hit by a car. There were no wounds, but his hips were shattered. He couldn't walk, and I had actually seen him laying in a field as I had walked by earlier that afternoon. I felt so bad when the other person living with me had realized he was hurt and brought him inside, like I betrayed him somehow even though I honestly didn't realize.
His prognosis was grim, but we wanted to try and heal him. It was painstaking, long and difficult--especially for him. But Harley was walking again, eventually running and jumping like before; just a little more carefully now. He warmed up even more to me since my bedroom was where he recovered in; he knew it was a safe place.
Some years later, he comes in one night as he often did. After awhile, he started drooling heavily, then with the biggest eyes you could imagine he began running. Back and forth in the room, looking up at me then elsewhere. Clearly, he was panicked. I didn't know what to do in that moment beyond 'get him somewhere isolated' so I brought him in the bathroom while I opened up my phone and tried to figure out what he might have and what I could do. Then, he had his first seizure of that night.
What followed was me searching for any open clinics (at the time, none were open and nearby) while trying to rationalize that the symptoms weren't that serious, all while doing my best to comfort him. When he had his second seizure, and was looking so haggard afterwards, I had to confront what I didn't want to admit: he might not survive until we can get him treatment. Even if he did, what state would he be in?
Out where I live, it's not unheard of to euthanize your own pets or livestock. Not common at all, but it's a rural community and sometimes that's just the least-bad option for both animal and person. So I did. I won't mention what method I chose or the gruesome details, only that Harley's last moments were not peaceful like I had wanted them to be, whenever they had happened. I buried him outside immediately, sweating and aching as I dug a deep hole in a hot, humid summer night so I could at the very least put his body to rest, as if that mattered at that point.
This is all to say that, while before I had thought it merely a 'nice service' and 'helpful' that vets offer euthanasia, after that? After failing the cat I had at my side for over a decade, who I was responsible for all that time? The ability to give our pets a peaceful, happy final day, to be with them and hold them in their last moments as they drift off to sleep forever before the pain grows too intense, before they're left broken and feeble by their sickness is something I hold sacred now. I've handled several other pet euthanasias since (I'm often the one to take the pets and be with them for certain relatives who don't have the heart for being there) and it's so much better. I'll never forgive myself for Harley, but I can take solace in knowing that it won't happen again now that there's an emergency clinic open nearby.
So I guess what I'm saying is, you handled Willow how I wish I handled Harley. It sounds like Willow had a blast, and that's ultimately what matters. She didn't suffer, and was surrounded by her loved ones. Time does and will help, even with pain never felt before. But it's okay for it to hurt now; it's half of how we heal, with the other half being exactly what you're doing with Pinto. Helping others, especially pets is one hell of a way to quiet grief--in my personal experience, at least.
I'm really fucking sorry for your loss :(