Oh, Gloria... Letting him go is giving him a quiet, peaceful rest. So many of us have been through what you are going through now, and we send you and all of your family strength. Every day, he will be beside you and each family member, maybe not in his large handsome body but in his enormous presence in your memories. You've been through this before, too. You know that it takes time for the pain to heal enough to go on. You never forget, but somehow, one day, you find you're able to breathe again. Holding you all and Shelby in love.
My best cats were Demon, Rutger and Hellboy!, in order of arrival. Demon was my doggiest cat, always up for a walk on the leash. He was also the longest lived, making it to 18.5 years.
Rutger came from a pet shop one Easter, retrieved from his cage by my brother in law, who stuffed him in my arms. Rutger just lay there, waiting for me to decide. Of course he came with, and climbed up the side of the hotel bed, his tiny claws like crampons in the white sheets. Once he reached the summit he curled up next to me, purring. He caught a thyroid disease that caused half his tail, the tip of one ear and the skin on the front of his nose to fall off. The vet docked what was left of his tail, creating a jaunty looking feline.
HB! was retrieved from the Anti-cruelty Society. He was alone in his cage batting a ball, and stood on his hind legs when he saw me. I could just about hear him say, "Hey lady, could you help a kitten down on his luck?" He was the hardest to lose. He was treated for a liver ailment that never resolved. The necropsy after showed it was his pancreas all along, although the blood tests never revealed it. He was my velcro cat, and yeah, I got stories about him too.
I have accompanied six cats to the bridge. Each time I cried until I had no tears left. However, I discovered tears could be recharged, like the water in an aquifer. I have 2, Willie (15) and Tabitha (5). I hope it will be a while before my aquifer is tapped again. In the meantime, each day means more paw prints pressing nto my heart. I imagine Shelby left some pretty big ones in both of your hearts. My condolences to you both.
Oh Gloria, I’ve been thinking about you and your lion dog, Shelby, since you wrote about his health declining, and now here you are at that moment of knowing his earthly life is coming to an end. I read your words with tears in my eyes, a huge lump in my throat and an ache in my heart knowing all too well the deepest sadness of a furry family member crossing the veil. I know with every fiber of my being that animals go to heaven. And while his big fluffy body won’t be present anymore, his big heart and his love for you will remain forever.
Sending you and all of your loved ones big hugs. 💜
Seven years ago my precious rescued mutt Mr. Wiggles had a sudden terrible internal bleeding from a tumor on his spleen that ruptured and could not be surgically repaired. I had to make that heartbreakingly instant decision to keep him pain free and to let him go. The vet was so kind and gentle as I sat on the floor with Mr. Wiggles’ head in my lap and he eased him out of pain. I sat on the floor in that vet’s room and just bawled. I didn’t have time to even think or plan because it all happened so quickly. I had Mr. Wiggles cremated and buried his ashes in my back yard. When my old cat Miss Georgie Girl passed away last spring, I buried her where I had buried Mr. Wiggles ashes. When I’m out in my yard I talk to both of them as if they are right there with me. It brings me comfort.
Shelby’s story stays with me. It opened something tender and familiar.
When my cat Becky declined in 2022, she was already 17. Slowing down little by little, yet still offering those moments of light—her version of joy, even near the end. We had spoken with the vet, who said to wait and see. But one weekend, her health turned sharply. I had to work that Monday, and the earliest we could have gotten her to the vet was that evening. I made her as comfortable as I could before leaving. When I came home, she had passed. Peacefully, it seemed—on the spot she had chosen in those final days.
It’s a grief like no other. Even though I’ve lost both beloved animals and people, there’s something distinct about losing a companion who shared the rhythms of home itself.
That’s what moved me so much in what you wrote about Shelby. They weren’t just a pet. They were part of the heartbeat of your household. And when someone like that is suddenly gone—especially someone whose needs shaped your daily life, like walks just a few weeks ago—there’s not only grief, but an aching shift in routine. The space they filled isn’t just emotional—it’s physical, sensory, relational.
I remember feeling that same hollowness. The silence where once there was movement. The way even my body didn’t quite know what to do anymore.
My brother began looking at shelter listings that same evening—his way of coping, I think. And that’s how we found Monty. He wasn’t a replacement for Becky. He was simply another soul in need of care, and somehow, we met one another in that need. He, too, had suffered. And so we said yes.
Thank you for the gift of Shelby’s story. Thank you for reminding us that some companions never truly leave—they change form, show up in light and dreams and moments we don’t expect.
Holding you both close as you prepare to let them go with grace and fierce love.
Grief is the most sharp cutting- all engulfing experience we will ever encounter. It is all encompassing. No comfort helps whatsoever for a long while. Alas, All the love given & recieved is well worth the price that death takes away.. And dam it all to hell, I will take those cuts, every single time..without a qualm nor doubt..
Gloria, I do share that pain of losing the pet who owns your heart . My GrayKitty, a rescue some neighbor with no heart, left behind, found her way to my home/heart, after deciding she approved of my sofa.
We were together 12 years or so. This past Tuesday 5/27/25, we had that final visit to the vet. I cried through it since we could stay beside her as she floated up to the other side. And I cried the rest of the afternoon. GK was my gift when I needed one the most.
Beautiful piece written for the inevitable laying on of hands and letting go
.....The space between the decision and the appointment can be the most fraught for the humans but filling the space with loving explanations to the beloved animal I have found helps to prepare everyone. I find myself also telling the beloved not to worry about our sorrow so he does not find it difficult to leave us behind in our grief.
I also caught myself thinking oh I wish dogs could read!! So I hope you read this marvelous piece to Shelby as well.
Like you I always say that I am right behind & will catch up soon. I always talk about going on to find any other beloveds that have passed already that will meet him there. I call down their spirits & ask them to do so.🤎
Oh, Gloria... Letting him go is giving him a quiet, peaceful rest. So many of us have been through what you are going through now, and we send you and all of your family strength. Every day, he will be beside you and each family member, maybe not in his large handsome body but in his enormous presence in your memories. You've been through this before, too. You know that it takes time for the pain to heal enough to go on. You never forget, but somehow, one day, you find you're able to breathe again. Holding you all and Shelby in love.
Oh Gloria, thank you for sharing this beautiful tribute of your love. Shelby is loved. ❤
Thank you for sharing your comforting words when I am sure you ned comforting most. Also thanks for the pictures and precious anecdotes.
For me, when I first saw Shelby, it was love at first sight. Wonderful big bundle of love. My heart is breaking with yours.
Miss you lady, so glad you got to meet him twice
My best cats were Demon, Rutger and Hellboy!, in order of arrival. Demon was my doggiest cat, always up for a walk on the leash. He was also the longest lived, making it to 18.5 years.
Rutger came from a pet shop one Easter, retrieved from his cage by my brother in law, who stuffed him in my arms. Rutger just lay there, waiting for me to decide. Of course he came with, and climbed up the side of the hotel bed, his tiny claws like crampons in the white sheets. Once he reached the summit he curled up next to me, purring. He caught a thyroid disease that caused half his tail, the tip of one ear and the skin on the front of his nose to fall off. The vet docked what was left of his tail, creating a jaunty looking feline.
HB! was retrieved from the Anti-cruelty Society. He was alone in his cage batting a ball, and stood on his hind legs when he saw me. I could just about hear him say, "Hey lady, could you help a kitten down on his luck?" He was the hardest to lose. He was treated for a liver ailment that never resolved. The necropsy after showed it was his pancreas all along, although the blood tests never revealed it. He was my velcro cat, and yeah, I got stories about him too.
I have accompanied six cats to the bridge. Each time I cried until I had no tears left. However, I discovered tears could be recharged, like the water in an aquifer. I have 2, Willie (15) and Tabitha (5). I hope it will be a while before my aquifer is tapped again. In the meantime, each day means more paw prints pressing nto my heart. I imagine Shelby left some pretty big ones in both of your hearts. My condolences to you both.
Shelby! May the gods throw you many, many, many red rubber balls, and may the squirrels give you a merry romp throughout eternity!!!!
And God said “I will send them to earth without wings so no one knows they are angels”. I believe this with my whole heart. RIP beautiful dog.
Dogs
I have know five dogs while living with me wife:
Ebony, Chico, Sasha, Baron, Kelb.
All large except for the Chihuahua.
Large for comfort and safety.
And cats too.
Approaching 80 this year we are reluctant to get another dog who might outlive us.
Kelb died the end of March 2025
But, as you say, they are still with us in heart.
Oh Gloria, I’ve been thinking about you and your lion dog, Shelby, since you wrote about his health declining, and now here you are at that moment of knowing his earthly life is coming to an end. I read your words with tears in my eyes, a huge lump in my throat and an ache in my heart knowing all too well the deepest sadness of a furry family member crossing the veil. I know with every fiber of my being that animals go to heaven. And while his big fluffy body won’t be present anymore, his big heart and his love for you will remain forever.
Sending you and all of your loved ones big hugs. 💜
Seven years ago my precious rescued mutt Mr. Wiggles had a sudden terrible internal bleeding from a tumor on his spleen that ruptured and could not be surgically repaired. I had to make that heartbreakingly instant decision to keep him pain free and to let him go. The vet was so kind and gentle as I sat on the floor with Mr. Wiggles’ head in my lap and he eased him out of pain. I sat on the floor in that vet’s room and just bawled. I didn’t have time to even think or plan because it all happened so quickly. I had Mr. Wiggles cremated and buried his ashes in my back yard. When my old cat Miss Georgie Girl passed away last spring, I buried her where I had buried Mr. Wiggles ashes. When I’m out in my yard I talk to both of them as if they are right there with me. It brings me comfort.
I talk to mine too
Fair winds and following seas beautiful Shelby 💔 you all will meet again
Dear Gloria, Dear Crystal,
Shelby’s story stays with me. It opened something tender and familiar.
When my cat Becky declined in 2022, she was already 17. Slowing down little by little, yet still offering those moments of light—her version of joy, even near the end. We had spoken with the vet, who said to wait and see. But one weekend, her health turned sharply. I had to work that Monday, and the earliest we could have gotten her to the vet was that evening. I made her as comfortable as I could before leaving. When I came home, she had passed. Peacefully, it seemed—on the spot she had chosen in those final days.
It’s a grief like no other. Even though I’ve lost both beloved animals and people, there’s something distinct about losing a companion who shared the rhythms of home itself.
That’s what moved me so much in what you wrote about Shelby. They weren’t just a pet. They were part of the heartbeat of your household. And when someone like that is suddenly gone—especially someone whose needs shaped your daily life, like walks just a few weeks ago—there’s not only grief, but an aching shift in routine. The space they filled isn’t just emotional—it’s physical, sensory, relational.
I remember feeling that same hollowness. The silence where once there was movement. The way even my body didn’t quite know what to do anymore.
My brother began looking at shelter listings that same evening—his way of coping, I think. And that’s how we found Monty. He wasn’t a replacement for Becky. He was simply another soul in need of care, and somehow, we met one another in that need. He, too, had suffered. And so we said yes.
Thank you for the gift of Shelby’s story. Thank you for reminding us that some companions never truly leave—they change form, show up in light and dreams and moments we don’t expect.
Holding you both close as you prepare to let them go with grace and fierce love.
With deep care,
Jay
Beautifully written.
Thank you Veronica, I am feeling deeply with them.
Grief is the most sharp cutting- all engulfing experience we will ever encounter. It is all encompassing. No comfort helps whatsoever for a long while. Alas, All the love given & recieved is well worth the price that death takes away.. And dam it all to hell, I will take those cuts, every single time..without a qualm nor doubt..
You're right in saying that they never leave us. For me it's a flash of white poodle greeting my car on the drive when I return home.
Yes!
I am so grateful to spend time with Shelby before his journey starts and with my family at these sad times
Gloria, I do share that pain of losing the pet who owns your heart . My GrayKitty, a rescue some neighbor with no heart, left behind, found her way to my home/heart, after deciding she approved of my sofa.
We were together 12 years or so. This past Tuesday 5/27/25, we had that final visit to the vet. I cried through it since we could stay beside her as she floated up to the other side. And I cried the rest of the afternoon. GK was my gift when I needed one the most.
Beautiful piece written for the inevitable laying on of hands and letting go
.....The space between the decision and the appointment can be the most fraught for the humans but filling the space with loving explanations to the beloved animal I have found helps to prepare everyone. I find myself also telling the beloved not to worry about our sorrow so he does not find it difficult to leave us behind in our grief.
I also caught myself thinking oh I wish dogs could read!! So I hope you read this marvelous piece to Shelby as well.
Like you I always say that I am right behind & will catch up soon. I always talk about going on to find any other beloveds that have passed already that will meet him there. I call down their spirits & ask them to do so.🤎
So very hard to understand this life. Dear comfort for all of you as you go through what you must. Thank you for sharing his beautiful spirit with us.