When you lose something, like a dog, it never stops hurting. You always have that pain in your heart that nothing ever fills.
Sam was an german shepherd, sent to the Humane Society because his owners didn't want a dog that had allergies. He was a timid dog, but my family thought he had a chance. My mother grew up with GSD's and she knew the breed.
When I was in second grade, we brought this big dog home. He was not trusting, we thought his previous owners may have hit him, causing him to be fear aggressive. He never bit my family, he was a good dog.
One day, I came home and only Dakota greeted me. That previous week, my parents got rid of our cat, Carl. I looked at my mother and through a weak voice asked where Sam was. She told me that my father and her took him to the vet to have him put to sleep. At first, no tears came for I couldn't find them. I just stared blankly at the floor.
There was times when I hated my parents for not asking my opinion in Sam's lethal injection. We didn't get to bury him, I never got to touch his beautiful sable fur one last time. I can't even remember if I hugged him that morning.
Several years later, my parents decided that we could get a puppy. So we decided to get a beagle, like the dog we already had. Rosie was a hunter and we wanted a house dog. So, through tears, we sent her back. I blamed myself, because I had picked her out.
Then my parents let me get Jack. Whenever he was bad, I blamed myself. If only I had chose a different breed...I was pretty hard on myself.
When you are young and you see death, it sticks with you. I cannot reverse time, I just have to live with it. Jack has helped me through it and I have no idea what I would do without him.
Yes the pain never really goes away.
All of us here completely sympathise and empathise with you!