r/Petloss

My sweet Hillary was left in our apartment home with two snakes and a bunny. We went on vacation 5 hours away, with sitters coming to check on the animals daily.

We've had a problem with our AC randomly going up in temp. It's been "fixed" but then suddenly it is broken again and goes from 64-80+. The last time it was fixed, we were assured and confident it would be the end of the AC troubles. It unfortunately was not.

When we returned home on Sunday, during a weekend ranging between 90-107 degree heat, we opened our apartment door to a wall of heat. The AC was blasting 90+ heat into our apt on top of 95-97 degrees from the outside heat.

My bunny, Sasha, managed to escape his enclosure thanks to one of the sitters leaving his door unlatched. I found him in a dark place between my bed, his muzzle drenched in sweat from the heat. He was thankfully OK, but dazed and hot. My roommates ball python, Monty, managed to survive as well.

Unfortunately, his other snake, Lisa, and my Hillary, were boiled to death by the excessive heat. I'm devastated by the loss of my girl, who I saved from a neglectful home and took care of for almost a year. She wasn't that old. She had so much life, and she was curious and loved to relax in my sleeves and pockets. Imagining how uncomfortable and hot and in pain she must have been deeply hurts me.

I'm trying not to blame myself. I know none of this was in my control, that nothing could have been done. I'm glad the surviving animals are ok. We have a temporary ac in place just in case the fix unfixes again. We're hoping the apt complex will do something to resolve what we've been through, but we're still in talks. Our lease ends soon, and I can not wait to leave all of this behind. Those animals didn't deserve to die so soon and in such a torturous way such as overheating to death.

After your pet passes, do you believe they stay with you forever or do you believe they move on and see you when it’s your time? Or do you believe they move on but still stay with you forever? I pray she is with me forever but also in peace. What are your thoughts on what happens when they pass? I need some comfort over this.

I came home today to the most heartbreaking discovery, one which has left me feeling so horribly sad, angry and completely lost.

My male ringneck was decapitated and eaten by a water rat right in front of his 'girlfriend' last night whilst I was away.

I can't begin to imagine how horrible his last moments alive would have been like, not to mention the trauma his partner was forced to witness.

I have 5 other birds that I am now terrified I may loose in a similar way if I can't stop the culprit immediately.

I myself am shaken to the core by what I found on my arrival home today and the guilt i am feeling is eating at my soul.

I feel sick just thinking about the horrible way he lost his life, I failed my poor bird not being home to save him, not being there to save his partner the trauma of seeing him suffer in that manner and just the fact that I lost my beautiful bird that way is messing with my heart and my head.

I can't stop crying, I can't sleep, I am checking on my remaining birds every 5 minutes and I am consumed by sadness.

I dont know what to do, I don't ever want to loose another one of my birds in that way but I can't stay awake forever.

Any helpful advice would be appreciated.

Three days ago I lost my beautiful dog Puntino for a grass seed that went to his lung whilst chasing his ball on the fields. I battled this for 5 weeks. He had several x rays and ultrasounds, he had two CT scans and two operations. When it seemed they finally found it, something went wrong after the surgery, they think he developed a thrombus and he was gone within hours. The last time he saw me I was leaving him in a cage. It devastates me. I re-live those walks on the fields when he was chasing his ball, he ran and jumped so high, he was the embodiment of the joy for life. I can’t believe I was so stupid to let him run on that dried grass. Now I look online, I talk to people and everybody seems to know how dangerous this is. Yet I didn’t. He was only about 2, or less. I rescued him 8 months ago after a difficult start in life. He deserved so much better. I feel so responsible for what happened to him. I’m inconsolable.

I am so devastated, last night was the worst night of what has been by far the worst year of my life. My puppy, Aurora (nicknamed Twig) slipped out during a thunderstorm and after a short pursuit across the neighbourhood, she ran around me, out into the street, and got hit by a car right in front of me. She was only 6 months old and genuinely the cutest, sweetest li'l pup I've ever seen, white and fluffy, like an arctic fox. I don't know what to do anymore, I just feel so sad and scared and confused. I don't blame the driver, it was just the wrong place at the wrong time but please stay attentive on the road. This is the most traumatic thing I think I've ever been through, and I've been through some shit. This is the second time this year my best friend died in my arms. At least with my last dog, Biscuit, who passed away at the start of the year, it was bittersweet because I know I gave her the longest, happiest life possible and got a peaceful goodbye. But Aurora was taken way too soon. They always say things will get better but lately, every time I feel like I'm finally finding peace again, it's cut short. I just wanna wake up from this nightmare. Rest in Peace Aurora, I'm sorry I couldn't save you. 😞

The death of my baby was so sudden and traumatic for me that I don't think I could ever stomach another pet again. It also deterred me from any career involving animals, because I can't stomach their death. My parents have 3 other cats and a dog, for now I'll do my best to take care of them, then after I move out, I am done.

I'm sick of people giving me flippant comments like "you just gotta live with it" "that's just life" "I thought that too until I got my new baby", or even the profound sounding quotes about how "it's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all". Not when that loss freaking gutted me and left me a hollow shell of myself. I'm pretty sure I will never be the same cheerful person again. We used to have the same silly personality, he really felt like my fluffy soulmate. Now that part of me is dead too. So thanks but I never want to live through this again.

I was walking my beautiful 10 month old dachshund, just a normal walk around our area and I accidentally dropped her lead and she ran onto the road and was hit by a car.

I’m completely traumatised. She was screaming and screaming and dying in my arms on the way to emergency where she passed.

SHES MY WORLD. My absolute everything. I cannot believe I dropped her lead, I hate myself so so so much. Hearing her and seeing her like that has ruined me. I don’t know how I’ll ever get over this. Please share any wise words with me. I cannot believe this is real. I love my baby so much

Have to say goodbye this morning to my dog. Hoping if I write it down I can stay silently crying so I don't freak the poor fucker out as he naps on my feet.

Truly never felt grief this viscerally and he hasn't even gone yet. I'm not hesitant about my decision as I can't see an animal in pain but it's my first dog and I want him to live till 106.

Goodnight pal, you were incredible. Truly a missile of a dog that spread chaos and joy wherever he went. I just hope it all goes smoothly and I have the strength to stay in the room.

I don't even know why I'm posting this other than the fact that I'm devastated and need somewhere to vent. We came home today and found one of our dogs had died from what appears to have been heat stroke. We rent and our landlord does not allow the dogs in the house. Rather than surrender them we converted a large insulated shed into a space for them. It had an air conditioner installed that has kept it cool for over a year without any issues. Sometime while we were gone today the AC tripped and stopped working. By the time we got home, one of our dogs had passed away. The other survived.

Before anyone says we shouldn't have had them in a shed I understand how it sounds. This wasn't a metal box sitting in the sun. It was a fully insulated shed with electricity and an AC unit because we were trying to provide the safest environment we could under the circumstances instead of giving them up. We genuinely believed they were safe.
I'm heartbroken and honestly feel sick. She was a member of our family and I keep replaying everything wishing I would've just ignored our landlords wishes and kept them in the house.

My Zuchon brutally died a week ago. My family was a thousand miles away for a kids athletic tournament. We left our two babies with my 76 year old mother in law to care for each other. We typically take them everywhere we go. My mother in law lost her husband 9 months ago and witnessed his heart attack passing. She was walking the Zuchon and a Maltese in her neighborhood on her street. This day she decided to walk a little further. She walked past a house that a large dog was barking at her that was behind a backyard fence. She kept going and went around the circle. She was nervous hoping to walk past again but this time she was on the other side of the street. My Zuchon was going to the bathroom and when she went to pick up the poop the large dog was charging at them. The large dog was an American Bully. It went for my Zuchon. It took my baby by her head/throat and swung her around like she was nothing. Knocking my mother in law to the ground at the same time. A neighbor had witnessed the attack and tried to help. My poor mother in law tried grabbing the American Bully by the teeth to stop the attack. The owner of the bully ran out of his house and only on his command did his dog drop my Zuchon. Blood all over my mother in law and baby. My mother in law and Zuchon were rushed to a local emergency hospital by the neighbor bystander. The Maltese was taken to the neighbors house in the meantime. Somehow my baby girl was alive to make it to the hospital where the doctors worked on her. Hours later the damage was too severe and my wife and I made the difficult decision a thousand miles away to euthanize our little girl. At the same time had to break the news to our three children about their sister. We got our puppy Zuchon during the pandemic. She was the center of our world. The Maltese came into our lives about two years ago found in a parking lot. He was three pounds. Our Zuchon took him in like a mother and sister and helped him learn how to live in a loving home. She was the perfect family member. She was so happy and full of life. She was known and loved in our neighborhood too. Bringing smiles to all. Words can not describe how painful I feel that this happened to you. I love you, Oreo.

The grief is really hard for everyone involved. She deserved a to grow old.

My baby girl died on June 26. My soulmate, I slept with her for the 9 years she was alive. Everynight, even when I went to my boyfriends house, she came. The past week I have been sleeping with my mom, and then my boyfriend when I have went to see him. I decided to finally go to my bed tonight, to feel closer to her, and maybe ill have a really good dream with her visiting me. I want to cry but I can’t. I miss her so much, my body yearns for her on a different level. I feel such sadness but cannot let it out. I felt extremely nervous to do this all night. I thought i would be bawling my eyes out, but i cant and i dont know why. I wish she was here. I would do anything to have her back. I feel her absence and it’s created a huge void. My baby didn’t deserve this, I didn’t deserve this. I pray she is with me and knows how much I truly love her.

I don’t even know how to begin this. My fiancée and I went into a store to get food for our road trip for 5 minutes in rainy 70 degree weather. Our 1 year old French bulldog was properly secured within the car in his harness and all. My fiancée got to the car first as I was checking out at the register and she found him with no pulse and not breathing. It seemed that when we were in the store he tried to get out by going over the backseat and into the trunk and accidentally hung himself. I immediately left the checkout after my fiancée called and, upon arrival, tried to administer CPR to no avail. We were so excited for this road trip with him and now our little bundle of joy is gone forever. This happened 4 hours ago and we still have no idea how we will ever be able to move forward with our lives.

I came to visit family with my 2 month old I left my husband with dog and cat I normally bring my dog everywhere but didn’t because I had to deal with my baby and my dog was in heat anyway my dog pooped in her diaper my husband took her out and (96 degrees outside there a heat wave )he completely forgot ,I called to check up on my dog and he was oh my god I forgot about her and when he went to touch her she wasn’t reacting I stared to panic he took her in the bathtub but it was to late i am yelling at him telling him he killed her he’s crying and he a mess I’m in shock still he took her to cremated he keeps blaming himself i know it’s his fault but I feel so bad he loved her as much as me and it was a accident I’m dreading going home she won’t be there I keep telling myself I should have brought her with me how am I supposed to move on

I still put his water bowl out every morning. Twelve years of muscle memory doesn't switch off just because he's gone. I filled it yesterday too. Stared at it for a minute. Dumped it out and put it back in the cabinet. Then this morning I took it out again.

It was 2014. I had my heart set on a beagle puppy I'd seen online — someone's accidental litter, supposedly. Got there and the beagle was already adopted. I was annoyed, walking past the kennels halfheartedly, when this golden retriever mix pressed his nose against the chain link and just... stared. No barking. No tail wagging. Just these brown eyes that looked through me, not at me. The volunteer said he'd been there four months. "Too big," people said. "Too old" — he was two. Two years old and already passed over.

I sat down on the floor next to his kennel and he leaned his whole body against the gate. That was it. I signed the papers before I even called my landlord.

He was the most particular dog I've ever known. Would only walk on grass — if the sidewalk was too long between patches, he'd hold it. Refused to step on anything that wasn't natural ground. I used to joke he was secretly a forest spirit reincarnated wrong. Every time I sneezed, no matter where he was in the house, he'd come running. Not other sounds — just sneezes. Somehow he decided sneezes meant I was in mortal danger. For twelve years I had a furry paramedic responding to every achoo.

The best day was the beach. Took him to the Oregon coast when he was maybe five. He'd never seen the ocean. The moment his paws hit the wet sand and the water rushed over them, he froze. Looked at the wave. Looked at me. Looked back at the wave. Then he went absolutely berserk — running in circles, biting at the foam, barking at seagulls like he'd just discovered a whole new planet. I sat on a driftwood log and watched him for an hour, this ridiculous golden blur against gray water, and I remember thinking: this is it. This is the thing I'll remember.

He was there for every apartment, every breakup, every 3 AM anxiety spiral where I'd sit on the kitchen floor and he'd just lay his head on my knee without asking for anything. He didn't fix things. He just stayed. And sometimes that's the same thing.

Then his back legs gave out. He was fourteen. The vet said his kidneys were failing too, and there wasn't a good option left — just a series of worse ones. We made the call on a Thursday. I fed him an entire rotisserie chicken that morning, which he ate like it was his birthright. At the clinic I sat on the floor — same as the day we met — and held his head in my lap. He went so peacefully I almost felt guilty about how peaceful it was. No struggle. No fear. Just... gone. The room got very quiet and I realized I was still stroking his ears.

Now I come home and the silence hits before I even turn the key. I still step over the spot in the hallway where he slept. I bought a rotisserie chicken last week out of habit and cried in the parking lot. The worst part isn't the big moments — it's the tiny, stupid ones. Dropping food on the floor and remembering no one's coming to clean it up. Hearing a neighbor's dog bark and looking toward the door.

He wasn't a hero dog. Didn't save anyone from a fire or detect cancer or do anything the internet would go viral over. He was just my dog. And I think that's what I'm trying to hold onto — that being "just" someone's dog, for twelve years, is enough of a miracle on its own.

I don't really know why I'm writing this. I guess I just needed people who understand. If you've lost your buddy too — does the quiet ever get easier? Or do you just get better at pretending it doesn't hurt?

My 9 year old dog, Ned, had a couple of nights with an elevated breathing rate and a slightly worsening cough from his CHF.
We took him to the ER to see if we could get his medication amended.
They wanted to keep him overnight but we simply couldn’t afford it, couldn’t get approved for the payment plans either - so we were taking him home with the new meds with plans to get him into a cardiologist the next day.
Ten minutes into the drive home he seized and died.
I am racked with guilt and sadness for my poor boy.
All the vets we spoke to said he had about 6 months left with us so I was completely unprepared when he just went so quickly.
Just need a place to feel sad as I’ve got a toddler who is too young to understand what’s happened.

During the first week of May my 16.5 year old cat was lying on me and I just felt like she looked...off. She looked a little gaunt or tired. I cried that night because she just looked older, but ultimately thought just that--that she's getting older.

A week later her breathing looked labored. It wasn't open mouthed, but she was taking deep inhales and sharp exhales and not sleeping in bed with me anymore. Her appetite had also decreased, but only a little. She was 2 weeks late for her monthly arthritis shot, so I thought maybe it was just that.

May 11 I took her to a new vet (long story). The vet at first said she seemed to have a fine heartbeat. Then I showed him videos I took of her sleeping and the odd breathing. He felt around her stomach and then asked to take x-rays. He came back and told me in a very somber tone that she had pleural effusion. He said it was likely terminal given her age and that it was most likely heart failure or a cancer. He said she'd need a chest tap to get a diagnosis but his office wasn't equipped for that.

May 13 I took her to a vet hospital to see about the tap. They quoted me $4500 which was not in my budget. I got them to bring it down to $2700 which I couldn't afford either.

May 14 I reached out to the vet who made the diagnosis and he agreed to prescribe some diuretics to help get out of some of the fluid.

Over the next two weeks she first seemed to get a little better, but then slowly worse. She started avoiding me more (which I assumed was because I was giving her pills she didn't like). She started hiding behind an armchair. I took her for a walk outside (on a leash) one night and she tried to run under the deck, presumably to hide.

She got pickier and pickier with her food. She ignored churu entirely. All I could reliably convince her to eat was the occasional dental treat and she would enjoy licking a cement tablet from time to time. She'd have a lick or two of gravy here and there.

On about May 24 or 25 she got an upper respiratory infection (I think). Lots of sneezing and runny nose.

After that her condition got very bad quickly. I was force-feeding her liquid food using a monojet I took from the dentist office I work at. She would not eat at all, but she'd get up to sniff whatever food was served to her maybe 50% of the time.

She started getting skinny FAST. Her back legs got wobbly. She started sleeping exclusively next to her water fountain, and when she'd drink water she wouldn't dry off her chin. So her chin was constantly soaked with water. Her eyes started to look more sunken in. Her purring sounded more like growling (for all I know maybe it WAS growling) and strained.

On June 4th I made the extremely hard choice to help her cross over...but what sticks with me is that when the vet and the aide knelt down to get her ready, my kitty stood up and greeted them. Lifted her head and gave them a sniff. She was a very social cat and always came to greet new people.

Ever since that day I've been so afraid that I made the call too soon after I saw her act like "herself" again when she saw the strangers. She was still peeing at her litter box (not in it, but she never peed IN it to begin with). She wasn't pooping, but she had nothing to poop. She wasn't eating, but she was drinking.

I just don't know if I made the choice too soon and it has been absolutely killing me. I know that given the path she was going she probably only had another two weeks AT MOST but I can't help but feel like I gave up on my girl sooner than I should have. After she gave her whole life to me I feel like I should have let her try a little longer...I need advice.

My boyfriend and I have been trying so so hard to make a family for ourselves for years. We both love dogs and cats, and to me a pet to makes us a family.

We got a kitten 2 years ago, he was happy and healthy and we were so proud of him we wanted him to have a sibling so he could learn from another cat and have a playmate. We found a sister for him after he had grown a bit, exactly the same age (6 months both of them, we had been reading on the best match for kittens). We did the Jackson Galaxy method and separated them for a while so they had time to bond. They liked eachother. Things were going great.

My boyfriend took them to the vet and the girl was diagnosed with FeLV and we were told we needed to part with one of them to keep them healthy. We gave the boy to my boyfriend's parents. They were happy to take him but we missed him all the same. We always said if anything were to happen we would take the first kitten we got but we didn't and his parents didn't want to deal with the emotional damage of a sick cat.

Time passed and we were glad to have given the boy to his parents. They were happy, we were happy given the circumstances and our girl meant the world to us. She reached her first birthday when we were told it was unlikely. We planned her second birthday all year. It was important to us. She took a dive last week. We paid $5,000 for a 2 night overnight stay and blood transfusions because her body was destroying her platelets. We spoke in hindsight and we would have spent our entire emergency fund on her had anything been possible. The vets found 5 tumors and diagnosed her with stage 5 lymphoma. We had to put her down.

My boyfriend and I are not good with grief. We googled and asked our vet about the amount of time FeLV lives in a home. They said 48 hours. We waited 72 hours. I may be the issue in that I move on too fast with grief. I got our first cat eithin two days of my childhood dog passing because I couldn't deal with the pain in my heart and needed a distraction. Those cats were so important to me, they were never just a distraction.

I was on a desperate search for something to make things right, they had gone so wrong. The world had been cruel to us. I thought that with the luck we had things couldn't possibly be worse. I found two kittens on the shelter website. They looked like the two babies we lost. I sent them to my boyfriend and we were off to get them.

We got them, they were normal for the first 24 hours then took a dip the second. My boyfriend told me I was pestering them too much and they were trying to settle in (understandably. I was very worried from having had a chronically ill cat and he mentioned that to me). We gave them some space. This morning after 24 hours I checked the tent we made for them with blankets, I checked the smart feeder video and they hadn't touched it so I took them to the emergency vet. They both seemed okay but I was wrong. I even knew my Uber driver and the cats were sitting up so I opened the box for him to pet them. (I was worried something horrible would happen from my last vet visit and I didn't know if I could drive myself home if something bad happened and I was crying like that again.)

The babies were triaged for low heartrate and temperature. In the end they guessed they had neural FIP. The first baby was put down in my arms from a heartattack which I wasn't expecting. It was really hard because we didn't have any time with them. The second seemed to be going from the same cause and she was put down too today.

I just feel cursed by god I guess. 3 euthanizations in 1 week I wasn't built for this. I have done research and maybe I was naive to think that things would go right a second time kittens are so fragile. But I feel awful all the same. What is worse is I felt that I was just reliving my cat's death 2 more times. The kittens died and I barely got to know them though I took care of them the best I could. But the paperwork. The overnight medical. The hope that you want to feel so badly but that feeling feels like it could lead to being hurt again was all there. I just feel numb to everything now. Hoping feels cursed right now when I think something may go right it goes wrong.

I put my dog down two days ago.

She was 16 and aside from typical “old dog” issues she was still doing fine until suddenly last week.

All of a sudden she could no longer walk or stand, anytime I helped her and let her go her head would just tilt down and she’d fall over on her back. She also stopped eating and drinking water even when I tried to feed her.

We are still new to the area and didn’t have an established vet. Funny enough I had already booked an appointment for her just as a check up (she had a heart murmur). Was not expecting it to turn into a euthanasia visit.

The vet examined her and said she had no reflexes in her back legs and that she likely wouldn’t ever walk again.

She said we can work with a neurologist, feed my dog thru her stomach and all these other things but given my dog’s age and her other preexisting conditions (arthritis, early dementia, mostly blind and deaf, hear murmur, significant weight loss) it wouldn’t prolong her life by much and she would continue to soil herself.

Unfortunately my husband is out of the country so it was very stressful and difficult to navigate all of this on my own while being somewhere new. The vet was very patient with me and all the staff were so compassionate.

So I made the hard decision to let her go as the vet assured me she wasn’t in any pain at the moment and I would rather be a day too early than a day too late.

Now that I’ve had time to breathe and slow down a bit I couldn’t help but research my dog’s symptoms and came across “vestibular disease”.

I want to trust the vet, I did comment that it was almost like my dog had suffered a stroke to which she responded it could’ve been something like that, that a blood clot could’ve very likely caused her sudden immobility but without tests she couldn’t confirm. She also said it could very likely be neurological. But there was no mention of vestibular disease.

Reading more about vestibular disease and seeing similar symptoms and how most dogs recover from it has me second guessing my choice. I can’t help but think I gave up on my dog too soon, in a highly emotional state and without all the research.

The only thing giving me peace with my choice is that I was able to be there for her and hold her until her very last breath, and it was very peaceful.

One month ago, I took my beautiful and sweet healthy 8-year-old rescue greyhound in for a routine teeth cleaning. We had him for 7 short years and he was an integral part of our family’s lives including our young children’s lives. He got me through many terrible life events. He was the calmest, gentlest and most affectionate boy and the best dog I have ever had and I’ve had many throughout my life.

When I picked him up from the clinic after his teeth cleaning, something was terribly wrong. His eyes were bloodshot, he vomited blood, and he could barely walk. I was shocked and asked the vets so many questions. The veterinarian at the clinic told me he was having an adverse reaction to the anesthesia and recommended that he stay for monitoring and IV fluids. I spoke with the clinic owner, who is also a veterinarian, and he reassured me that my dog simply needed rest and fluids. He warned me that moving him could cause further harm and insisted that the safest place for him was their clinic. I was told they had run blood tests, checked his vital signs, and scanned his organs, and that everything appeared normal.

Over the next two days, however, my dog continued to deteriorate. He kept vomiting and showed no signs of improvement. The veterinarians repeatedly reassured me that he was being monitored closely and that his symptoms were the result of an adverse reaction to anesthesia. They told me he had also developed gastritis and a stomach ulcer, both of which were being treated.

As time passed, I became increasingly concerned. Despite multiple requests, I was never shown the lab work or given clear answers about what was happening. When his condition failed to improve, I transferred him to a different veterinary clinic.
There, I was given devastating news. I was told that my dog had not been intubated during the dental procedure, meaning he had received no oxygen support and his airway had not been protected. By that point, he was blind, brain dead, suffering from severe pneumonia that had progressed to sepsis, and experiencing organ failure.

Two hours later, I had to make the heartbreaking decision to euthanize him. During those final hours, he was howling in distress and bleeding from his nose and mouth. It was horrific. Even after the vet tried to stop his heart, his heart kept beating for minutes when it should have stopped after seconds. The vet held my hands and cried with me when my beautiful boy’s heart finally stopped and he said, “he was hanging on for you.”

Ever since, I have replayed those three days over and over in my mind—from the moment I dropped him off for a routine dental cleaning to the moment I said goodbye. I blame myself for choosing that clinic, for not transferring him sooner, and for countless other decisions that I believe may have contributed to his suffering and death.

I have filed complaints against the clinic, although in this country it is unlikely the clinic will face any accountability. We are unlikely to pursue a lawsuit given the financial cost, emotional toll, and unlikely chance of success due to the laws in this country. None of that will bring my dog back anyway.

What I cannot escape is the guilt. My family had recently moved to a new country, and this was a new clinic for us. We trusted the professionals caring for our dog. Looking back, I feel painfully naïve about the quality of veterinary care available here, and I fear that trust cost my dog his life.
To make things even harder, I have to walk past that clinic every day on my way to take my son to school. Every time I see it, I relive those final days. The guilt and grief feel overwhelming. I spoke with a therapist who suggested that we move, but that isn't a simple option for us.

I don't know how to forgive myself. I don't know how to stop replaying those final days in my head. I just want to know: how do people survive this kind of guilt and grief?

EDIT: Due to some of the comments I've received, I want to add a few important points.

In the country where I live, posting a negative review of a business or professional on Google or social media can carry serious legal consequences. If I were to publicly name and criticize this clinic, I could face arrest and jail time. This reality is one of the reasons the clinic maintains a near-perfect Google rating, and it's important context for those questioning why I don’t just leave a public review. It’s not so easy. All negative reviews have been immediately removed.

I am also not looking for opinions or speculation about how my dog died. I already know how and why he died based on the findings of a second veterinarian, who conducted a thorough examination and prepared a detailed post-mortem report.

Likewise, I am not seeking advice about legal or other action against the clinic. I have spent countless hours researching every available option, consulting different lawyers, the appropriate authorities, and pursuing all avenues available to us within our rights, abilities, and resources. We remain committed to exploring every possible way to hold this veterinarian accountable.

In the meantime, I am doing what I can to raise awareness about this clinic and our experience, while remaining mindful of the very real risks involved. As much as I want to speak more openly, I have children who depend on me, and I cannot jeopardize my ability to care for them.

To those who have shamed me for not posting a public review or filing a lawsuit: before you criticize, ask yourself if you even know all the facts and why you feel the need to attack someone in the throes of grief?

I live with enough guilt already. Every day, I replay my decision to trust this clinic and wonder what I could have done differently. The purpose of my post is not to debate the circumstances of my dog's death or solicit legal advice. This is not the forum. I am simply trying to find a way through the trauma, grief, and guilt of losing a beloved companion.

If you have experienced a similar loss, I would be grateful for any guidance on how you learned to stop blaming yourself and how you coped with the overwhelming grief that followed.

It's been 24 hours.

My beautiful fluffy cat died yesterday of a horrible washer accident. She was only 5, and she had never ever before gone into the washer, but she did and I found her body afterwards.

I am wrecked with guilt. I had planned to turn 50, maybe even 60 with her. I had just talked to my spouse about the new kidney disease vaccine and how excited I was to get those to my cats once it's out.

We planned a vacation with our cat in September. We planned to build her a cat tree house this summer.

She was a chatty kitty, and since she was a baby she had been very small in size, in voice. She had a kitten like demeanor, and she was always a social, kind, innocent cat who would take naps next to strangers and sleep while purring on top of my guests lap.

I work from home and got her during COVID so we had been together every single day (I hardly took vacations) for 24/7.

My day ended with her bringing me to bed by telling loudly, and her purring on my stomach asking for scritches. It also began with her howling into my ears.

Although I understand this is a horrible accident, I am wrecked with guilt. I am a pet parent who did everything for their cats. Vaccines, collars, microchip, toothbrush, Omega 3, home made cat meals, multiple cat furniture's and beds, dozens of different treats.

We had a routine.

Last night, I could not sleep because my chest hurt so much. I kept waiting for her to climb on top of my howling and to snuggle with me.

I am completely devastated. When I found her I tried cpr and mouth to mouth but it was too late.

I know with time, I will remember the good times but the first day is so hard.

She was a perfect, unique, once in a lifetime cat that changed my life and taught me so much.

I am going back to work tomorrow and I don't even know how I can do my work without bursting out in tears every other minute.

I scream cried into my pillow all morning. I was howling in tears. Why is this happening?

I wish I was a believer in heaven or God because then I could believe I could meet her again.

Now my routine day is just excruciating.

I'm sorry for such a long rambling post.