For all pet lovers

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Tonight thinking about an ill Amanda (who refuses to eat and take her medicine), I thought about a poem I'd read some time ago, and decided to look it up. I'm sure some of you are familiar with it already, but here's the poem at any rate for those who haven't seen it. This was written by a woman to her sister, who had lost a loved pet.

Request From Rainbow Bridge
by Constance Jenkins
In Loving Memory of Isolde Jenkins

Weep not for me though I am gone
Into that gentle night.
Grieve if you will, but not for long
Upon my soul's sweet flight.
I am at peace, my soul's at rest
There is no need for tears.
For with your love I was so blessed
For all those many years.
There is no pain, I suffer not,
The fear now all is gone.
Put now these things out of your thoughts,
In your memory I live on.
Remember not my fight for breath
Remember not the strife.
Please do not dwell upon my death,
But celebrate my life.

[auntAgonist]

1. beautiful sentiment.

I hope Amanda decides to eat and take meds..

here's a :hug: for you.

[BikeWriter]

2. Beautiful! Best wishes to your Amanda.

[NMMNG]

3. Such a beautiful poem

Every time I read or hear of someone's beloved pet who is aged and/or infirm I am reminded of my friend Paula's cat Boots. Boots used up all of her nine lives and then some. She escaped from a loose screen in our fourth story apartment and jumped from the roof of the three-story building. Fortunately she suffered only a sprained hip, although she later developed arthritis as a result. She got lost at a rest stop while we were traveling because she sprinted out of the van when one of us got out and we didn't notice her black furry body slinking out in the dark. It wasn't until morning when we got home that we discovered her absence (she'd spent the whole trip hiding under one of the seats, so her not being in sight wasn't a tip-off). Paula immediately went back over our route and ended up finding her--Boots was not the type to go with strangers and was waiting patiently for her "mommy" near the entrance to the restrooms.

There were many other adventures in Boots' life. Ultimately as she grew to be what her vet referred to as a "geriatric" cat she developed kidney dysfunction, and repeated UTIs in addition to the arthritis and various intermittent issues. It got to a point where she couldn't take water orally and Paula was faced with a decision-euthanize her or hydrate her intravenously every day. Paula was not ready to let go so each day she hooked up an IV bag of solution. This lasted for roughly a week, then Boots became so feeble that every time she attempted to eat food the food would just fall back out of her mouth. She could neither chew nor swallow.

At that point Paula realized that the only humane thing to do would be to end Boots' suffering. With a heavy heart she took Boots to the vet's office and held her in her arms as the vet administered the injections. There is a dent in her garage door from the day she came home after that event. She was so distraught she misjudged her distance and bumped the door.

I miss Boots myself. She wasn't my cat but I loved her as if she was. It broke my heart when she had to go, and I miss her still. :cry:

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4. I know how that feels

My Dax got lost in Williams, Arizona on the moving trip cross country. I opened the door to get into the van, and he got out along with my Jessica. I went after Jessica, and my sister's friend who was driving the moving van, went after Dax. He was never recovered. We spent that night there to try and find him to no avail. We got hold of the animal control officer who set out traps to see if he could get him, and it never happened. So I lost him for good. It's been two and a half years now, and I still really miss him. :(

And then, 8 months later, Dax's sister, Kira, got out of the apartment while the plumbers were working, and even though we're in a fairly urban area of town, I never found her either. It hasn't quite been two years now, and I still cry about her.

I think if they had died, I would have felt better. At least I would know what happened to them. Not knowing, making speculations, especially when I have an extremely vivid imagination, hurts so bad.

I think about this poem and when I first read it, and I started to cry. I read it now and again to give myself a moment of relief, rather than self-flagellation, even though I do tend to blame myself over and over again for the fact that both are gone.

I already have three little jars filled with ashes of those who passed away--my old ladies, Sandi, Alyn and Piccolo, who were, respectively, 17, 16 1/2, and 18 when they passed away.

As far as Amanda, she still refuses to eat, but I'm going to try to forcefeed her again today to see if I can get some nourishment into her. It's all I can do, I guess.