Skip to comments.Levin: We dog lovers understand, and weep, and mourn
Posted on 05/18/2020 9:36:02 PM PDT by conservative98
We dog lovers understand, and weep, and mourn pic.twitter.com/frmZ4NEOVJ — Mark R. Levin (@marklevinshow) May 18, 2020
(Excerpt) Read more at twitter.com ...
I understand this. Like the old song goes...after 20 years he still grieves.
Yep we do. You come home without your best bud and he is everywhere and nowhere. His dishes and his sleeping spots are empty. His favorite toys are here and there. No more play. His leash is hanging by the door. No more walks. It is gut-wrenching.
Six months later if you can do it, you have a new pup. And he steals your heart. Twelve years later, he’s slowing down, can’t play like he used to, sleeps for hours, and can’t hear you calling him inside anymore. You use hand motions to call him in. The Sherriff isn’t on duty so much anymore. God, how you love that good dog. And you know you don’t have years left anymore. That’s where I’m at now with my Riley.
I know there are people who think Levin is a moron for mourning that dog. But I get it. Completely.
I just lost my Maine Coon Bijou 4/4/20. There is not a day that goes by without me weeping for the loss of her. My heart goes out to Mr. Levin, because we’re both going through the same thing now.
I don't know how she did it but somehow she'd get up on the bed without us feeling it and we'd wake up with her at our feet or between us.
Every great once in awhile as I'm drifting off to sleep, I hear those toenails clicking on the floor and I hear her plop down on her bed and sigh. And then I fall asleep.
It is very moving.
Totally get it. We have lost six. NONE of them was easy, but the last death was the most difficult pet death I have ever tried to get over.
The Art of Racing in the Rain.
Or Boz right behind me on his bed, a rescue Boxer now twelve years old.
Yes, that’s what the Twitter link goes to. Jimmy Stewart reading the poem on the Johnny Carson show. I’ve seen it before. Makes me cry every time. And I’m a big strong tough guy.
And, spoiler alert, the book begins with the dog dyint. From the very first page of the book you know he's going to die and I still sobbed uncontrollably. My wife refused to go see the movie. She knew I would embarrass her.
I wonder if it's on Netflix yet. It should be.
I’m retired and have a 7 y/o Labradoodle. We are together 24/7. I’m already dreading the day that he leaves and goes to heaven. It’s going to be hard. Real hard.
I cant read The Power of the Dog without my eyes tearing up remembering old friends
Condolences to Mark Levin.
All but one of our cats and dogs have either come from a shelter or were abandoned in our woods. It takes a lot of time to earn their trust, but so rewarding when they finally decide we’re worth it.
It always hurts immensely when we lose any of them, but we always have that hope that their years with us made up for whatever they endured before. Tough guys have hearts too and help those in need, be they pets or people.
really, any pet owner who loves their pets.
For me, it’s been 21 years.
Every great once in awhile as I’m drifting off to sleep, I hear those toenails clicking on the floor and I hear her plop down on her bed and sigh. And then I fall asleep.
Im a grown ass man, but that almost made me cry.
I get it, too. My childhood dog, Heidi, died when I was fifteen, and she was nineteen. We’d carry her up and down the stairs to do her business, because she was still there upstairs, but her body was failing; she kept having strokes. We had to euthanize her on my birthday. Worst ever.
Three months later, we took in a dog that a friend of my little brother’s had, and the dog was abused. A 3-month old American Eskimo Dog. She had a ton of energy, and the family had no clue what to do with her. They were the types that bought puppies and they dumped them when they were no longer baby-cute.
Juneau was with us for sixteen years, but both her mind and body deteriorated. The dog that laid around with me when I was home from school, puking in kidney failure, was not the same dog. She was doing her business inside, and she would walk into a corner and just cry unless someone was holding her. That was really hard, because I’d stay up at night and keep an eye on her. A couple of days after Easter, we brought her into a veterinary ER and she had to be euthanized.
The following September, I adopted a Boxer Pitt mix from CACC in Chicago. She’s incredibly sweet, and she’s become my shadow. She knows when I’m sick and will keep me company, or try to comfort me. She’s also a therapy dog, and I’m working on training her to perform some service dog activities. I’ve had her for almost two years, and she’s been wonderful. She and I are so attached to one another, so I dread putting her down. I almost hope she dies at home, where things are familiar and comfortable.
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