One of the most difficult decisions for a pet owner/lover is when to say goodbye. It's a responsibilty we have though as responsible pet owners. It's heartbreaking and difficult and easy to second guess. Just listen to what your heart and mind tell you. I'm sure you'll do the right thing. There is no exact "right" time. It's interesting how, when many/most animals know their time has come they go off to be by themselves. I've seen the reaction in multi-pet homes and it's really interesting. When one is sick, often the other comes and checks on them, even if they didn't get along otherwise. I've seen my two check on each other when they weren't 100% and leave them alone but still check. However when the time came, the ill one will go find a hiding spot to be alone and peaceful. The other then stays away until they've passed. It's interesting how humans feel a need to drag the world around someone who is dying. Someone in a bed, probably nervous, in pain, possibly scared but we have to have the world watch them in their discomfort and embarrassment and indignity. Some may want it, some wouldn't. But the differences are rather striking. I sense a big part of it is we humans as survivors have to make ourselves feel good that we were there when they died. Maybe we need to take a lesson from animals. The bathroom incident I would agree is anxiety and in this case a separation anxiety. It's not unusual for animals to experience anxiety of many forms more as they get older. Often that can be the root of their trouble with bladder control. They get excited and wet. Often our pets are used to getting what they want, right? We often spoil them. As they age, there's certainly memory loss and they don't really understand the concept of "time". They don't eat because it's a certain time, they eat when there's food available and/or when they're hungry or bored. They often have a routine that after eating they'll get some water. Normally when they feel the urge to go out they'll let you know but as they age, they have trouble telling what it is. Some say they can't feel it. I tend to wonder if it's just they don't remember what that feeling means. Either way the result is the same. Clearly you are aware of the situation. I know you'll make the right decision. I've seen a few people who just couldn't part with their long-time friends and put them through too much. I think that's selfish and hope I don't do that should my critters need me to make the ultimate decision for them. Don't forget the happy times with your companion. Best wishes to you all.

I was about 12 years old, and was taking a test in school, when the principle came to the door and said there was an incident I was involved in, and needed to come to the office. I had no idea what he was talking about. The teacher said as soon as I finished the test, he would send me. My mind went blank and I couldn't concentrate. I am sure I failed the test. I went to the office and when I got there, a little neighbor girl of ours, age about 6, was there and her older brother. (Small school...all grades in one building). The story was that when I was walking to gym class the day before, and walked through the recess yard where younger children were playing, I picked up this little girl's dress and looked at her panties and called her a "debbil". I didn't even know what a debbil was...I thought it was a bad word that I didn't know the meaning of. Later, I figured out she meant that I had called her a "devil". I don't know why that little girl said that. The idea that I would lift up her skirt to see her panties was mind boggling. But, she had said that...and told her parents, who called the school and, hence, I was in the princple's office being questioned about it. I was crying and I couldn't remember even seeing her the day before. Supposedly other kids saw it, so they were called in, and no one saw it. (Of course, because it didn't happen.) After about an hour, the principle told her it wasn't nice to lie and she had to appologize to me. She said, "I'm sorry Marilyn. I told a lie." I was so distraught and sick, I went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out. But, worse than that incidence...in '95, my husband fired a deckhand. To make a long story short, to get back at him, the deckhand got his girlfriend to say that her children had been out to our place, here on the bayou....we didn't live here at the time, and my husband had molested them. They filed charges...filled out a report several pages long that said they were out here every weekend for 6 weeks, swimming nude in the bayou and riding horses. No one rides my horses...not even me. They aren't broken. Even tho our place is remote...there is a lot of boat traffic on the bayou in the summer. This is MY place...at the time, my husband hardly ever came out here because he was working, but I was here every day. We didn't even know the woman or the kids. Later they tried to recant, but the charges couldn't be dropped. It took 15 months and cost us $60,000. Now, if that won't give you a sorry outlook on the human race, nothing will.

UPDATE: We are moving along, but ever so slowly it seems! I think that is the way it might feel for some time : ) Working on other areas of the house, inside and out, has taken us temporarily away from the kitchen, but we are getting back to it now! I've been in the process of setting up our temporary-temporary kitchen in the breakfast nook, which is in the current kitchen. DH informed me it'd have to be moved soon so he and I could begin demo of the kitchen... I am clearly too tired to think straight - he's right! He suggested we move it to the dining room-to-be TV room for now... but first we had to remove his widescreen TV, which he seemed unable to live without (sports fan that he is). This was a sacrifice for DH. Bless his heart! Yesterday we began to set up the temp-temp kitchen (2 temps) because eventually it will be taken down to remove and rebuild a wall between the future tv room and kitchen... My prep space, and only a few of many storage units... The water source is all the way across the house... I'll be keeping a jug nearby! The only problem? We removed the only light in that room... this is the scene from early this morning... making DH's lunch using an emergency light! Felt a bit like camping days from the past! We'll be adding a cheap light pronto! coffee stations are all the rage now... and we have one! Living the life! I have double ovens! (ancient toaster oven sitting on top of old microwave). I'll sure miss that "feature" as our new kitchen will only have a slide in range. ; ) The microwave came from DH's bachelor pad, and to my dismay still had 'gunk' in it, after it'd been sitting for 2 years! I used a flame torch to sterilize it. We put an old rug on the plywood subfloor for now... it adds a certain je ne sais quoi to our formal dining area, don't you think? Things I've learned thus far: 1) When vacuuming plywood sub-flooring, always vacuum with the grain. That way you'll get up half the dirt as opposed to none. 2) Those plastic drawer storage containers won't open if you put anything heavier than 15 paper napkins and a single plastic fork. 3) Keep a plastic drop cloth over everything when not in use... demo dust can find it's way into anything! 4) Maintain a sense of humor, maintain some semblance of order amidst the chaos, and always, always, have a hot pad ready for hot casserole dishes! Best wishes to those going through the process - or preparing to!

Raye, I love the music events at my parents' facility. It's amazing to see people who seem totally unresponsive start to sing when prompted by a touch on the hand. Recently my mother, at 94, started to sing along to Proud Mary! Who knew?! Pretty sure she didn't sing along with it back when it was on the radio all the time. Visiting depends on the person. When I see my dad, even when he was in the hospital and now in rehab and skilled nursing, we talk about the finances, historic events that occurred on that day, family stories (I've learned so much family gossip!). My brother comes and talks about his golf swing and old tournaments. My husband brings a beer, a glass, and peanuts on Bears game days. Visiting my mom is different. I like to take her for a walk, I wheel her around the facility or the courtyard, or go outside on the grounds. We stop in the lobby for a coffee, or maybe I bring a high-calorie coffee drink or shake from some place along the way for her. They both love it when we bring a little coffee cake to have with coffee, like at home. I help mom with some beauty regimen. I tell her what I made for dinner last night, or I join in with whatever activity is going on. (Which is also a nice way to get to know the other residents. I notice that, now that I can say "Hello, Ernie" or whoever, I get a smile from them just by walking in the room.) When I was in the hospital years ago, my mom would come and take me for walks around the halls. We'd go gaze at the babies in the nursery (can't do that anymore for security reasons) and a couple of times she brought some table accessories and we brought our meal to a garden area. That was so nice. I haven't had to visit a friend in the hospital for a long time, thank goodness. That can be a little harder, but I tend to keep visits under 30 minutes. When we were in high school we visited a friend at lunch time and brought hamburgers from the hospital cafeteria (they were really good) and we'd have lunch together, maybe help her with makeup or shave her legs (weird the first time!) or rearrange her room to her liking. She was there for over a month after our car accident, so she got bored fast.