In memoriam of our beloved pets 💖🕊️

[Laura_BelgianBantams_63]

All pets mean a lot to everyone

They help us through tough times, comfort us, and provide love and enjoyment.

But unfortunately,
No pet can live forever.

There always comes a time when they have to cross the rainbow bridge - a bridge that leads them to a beautiful afterlife.

The place is full of food, water and fun - plus, new friends to meet.

I, for one have lost pets before, like many other people too. I have lost a few chickens, a dog and a horse. It's tough, but somehow...after all that crying and grieving and taking one look at their picture and bursting into tears...

I managed to remember the good times.

I wanted their story to be heard, talk about the good times. And grieve when they had to go. I wanted to remember them. I wanted others to, too.

Here, is a thread where people can hopefully, tell their pet's story. They can talk about the good times, what happened, and all their memories. Everyone can support one another. You post will be in memoriam of your lost pet (s).

R.I.P
To those who we have lost through our lives

-Laura

 

[Callender Girl]

Ever year, I hope all my critters will make it through unscathed. This year, I lost one on Jan. 2.

Eliza was a beautiful miniature goat, mostly golden-colored with a big white band around her middle and lovely curved horns. Her previous owner and his wife adored her, but they raised Katahdin sheep and Eliza had the bad habit of slipping into the adjoining pen and eating everything in the creep feeder. They insisted I leave the bell she wore on a collar around her neck, and I was happy to do so.

Although I had to change her original name (Bessie, since I already had a Katahdin named Betsy in the next pen), she quickly learned to come when called and was so friendly and sweet. I often "accidentally" let her out of the pasture so she could eat in the yard without competition from a couple of the larger wethers and pushy does. The rest of the group protested loudly when they saw her enjoying her freedom.

What I wasn't told when I bought her was that Eliza had a serious breathing problem, likely -- according to my vet -- because she had had a respiratory infection at some point. In the summer, her breathing would be so labored that I worried every breath could be her last.

I never expected her to pass in the winter. The vet said she had either slipped on the ice or had been hurt in a scuffle with one of the other goats. There were no external signs of injury but she clearly was in pain. I was willing to do whatever it took to keep her going, and he made two visits, left injectable meds and assured me she wasn't going to die. Two days later, I found her dead, inside the infirmary pen I have set up.

Of my current flock, she was my favorite goat because she was so good-tempered and friendly. I find myself still looking for her in the mornings when I go out to feed. I carried her into the house and put her in the freezer. I will bury her in the spring.

 

[Laura_BelgianBantams_63]

Ever year, I hope all my critters will make it through unscathed. This year, I lost one on Jan. 2.

Eliza was a beautiful miniature goat, mostly golden-colored with a big white band around her middle and lovely curved horns. Her previous owner and his wife adored her, but they raised Katahdin sheep and Eliza had the bad habit of slipping into the adjoining pen and eating everything in the creep feeder. They insisted I leave the bell she wore on a collar around her neck, and I was happy to do so.

Although I had to change her original name (Bessie, since I already had a Katahdin named Betsy in the next pen), she quickly learned to come when called and was so friendly and sweet. I often "accidentally" let her out of the pasture so she could eat in the yard without competition from a couple of the larger wethers and pushy does. The rest of the group protested loudly when they saw her enjoying her freedom.

What I wasn't told when I bought her was that Eliza had a serious breathing problem, likely -- according to my vet -- because she had had a respiratory infection at some point. In the summer, her breathing would be so labored that I worried every breath could be her last.

I never expected her to pass in the winter. The vet said she had either slipped on the ice or had been hurt in a scuffle with one of the other goats. There were no external signs of injury but she clearly was in pain. I was willing to do whatever it took to keep her going, and he made two visits, left injectable meds and assured me she wasn't going to die. Two days later, I found her dead, inside the infirmary pen I have set up.

Of my current flock, she was my favorite goat because she was so good-tempered and friendly. I find myself still looking for her in the mornings when I go out to feed. I carried her into the house and put her in the freezer. I will bury her in the spring.

Thank you for sharing - a heart breaking story, but she will always be remembered, after all - thats what this thread is all about.