Deceased Pet Quotes

For many people, the love or the loss of an animal often becomes a gateway into a deeper spiritual journey. The most pragmatic of men will begin to question the fundamental nature of being when he is visited by an apparition of his deceased cat or dog companion.

In the process of decluttering things in my life, I was peeling off the layers of my past that no longer mattered to my present life. But as I did that shedding, memories and emotions arose. I sometimes felt sadness as I removed reminders of a failed marriage or the loss of a loved one. I grieved lost dreams and deceased people and pets. If I looked for it, I also experienced gratitude for the good times and the love that once was. Eventually, I felt lighter after I worked my way through a particular emotional zone that exposed remnants of unhealed parts of my life.

I rarely have a pet tell me their human ended their life too soon. It's far more common to hear that their humans waited too long to help them leave their body.

you may plan to devote five minutes every Monday evening to remembering, by either saying out loud or writing in a journal, one of the lessons you learned from your deceased pet, or something about them that you’ll always remember.

One of the more disturbing examples of “credential fraud” is that of Henrietta Goldacre, who received a diploma from the American Association of Nutritional Consultants (AANC) in 2004. Although she might sound plenty qualified to steer you toward a healthier diet, you’d want to think twice before enlisting her services. Not only did Henrietta earn her certification while dead; she was also a cat. Her owner, UK journalist and bad-science buster Ben Goldacre, applied for AANC membership on behalf of his deceased pet while investigating phony credentials—and soon found that the AANC would gladly dole out certificates to applicants of any species or mortality status, as long as they had $60 and a valid mailing address.

The companies that hauled the oil away were called renderers. Besides restaurant oil, renderers also collected animal carcasses—pigs and sheep and cows from slaughterhouses, offal thrown out by butcher shops and restaurants, euthanized cats and dogs from the pound, dead pets from veterinary clinics, deceased zoo animals, roadkill. Mounds of animals were trucked to the rendering plant and bulldozed into large pots for grinding and shredding; then the raw meat product was dumped into pressure cookers, where fat separated from meat and bones at high heat. The meat and bones were pulverized into protein meal for canned pet food. The animal fat became yellow grease, which was recycled for lipstick, soap, chemicals, and livestock feed. So cows ate cow, pigs ate pig, dogs ate dog, cats ate cat, and human beings ate the meat fed on dead meat, or smeared it over their faces and hands. Rendering was one of the oldest industries in the country, going back to the age of tallow, lard, and candlelight, and one of the most secretive.

What is it?” Leo’s arms closed around her. Gasping, she buried her face against the solid surface of his chest. They were half sitting, half lying amid heaps of rotted timber, stone, and earth. One of his hands came to her head, curving over her skull protectively. “What happened?” Her voice was muffled in his shirt. “Undercroft.” He smoothed her hair and pressed her even closer into the protection of his body. “Yes. Why does that frighten you?” She could hardly speak between panting breaths. “Isn’t that … where they keep the bodies?” The tremulous question hung in the air as Leo puzzled over it. “Oh. No, it’s not that kind of undercroft.” A quiver of rueful amusement ran through his voice, and she felt his mouth touch the rim of her ear. “You’re thinking of one of the rooms beneath modern churches, where the deceased are put away. But a medieval undercroft is different. It’s only a storeroom beneath the keep.” Catherine didn’t move. “There are no s-skeletons in here?” “No. Nor skulls, nor coffins.” His hand continued to stroke tenderly over her hair. “Poor darling. It’s all right. Nothing fearsome down here. Take a deep breath. You’re safe.” Catherine continued to lie in his arms as she caught her breath. She tried to take in the fact that Leo, her enemy and tormentor, was calling her “poor darling” and petting her. His lips brushed her temple and lingered gently. Holding still, she absorbed the sensation. She had never been attracted to men of his size, preferring those of less intimidating stature. But he was strong and comforting, and he seemed so genuinely concerned, and his voice was like dark velvet wrapping around her.

Your intuition can help you to recognize your departed loves ones who want to communicate with you. Although you may not be aware, your deceased friends, pets, and family watch over you. They are all around you. They send you amazing divine signs. Even if you are not aware or if you don’t believe it. They send you signals, synchronicities, and dreams. Each plays a significant role in leading you from where you are now to your beautiful destination.

You only have lost a deceased person. A deceased person has lost everything.

The extraordinary emotional and physical closeness that we enjoy with our pets creates a rare degree of intimacy. Also, our relationship with a pet stands alone in its simplicity. We never suffer unfaithfulness, manipulation, or major conflict. There were no arguments, periods of estrangements, and dramatic reconciliations with your deceased pet. The relationship was consistent, predictable, and reliable to a degree rarely achieved in our relationships with other people. When you lose

The extraordinary emotional and physical closeness that we enjoy with our pets creates a rare degree of intimacy. Also, our relationship with a pet stands alone in its simplicity. We never suffer unfaithfulness, manipulation, or major conflict. There were no arguments, periods of estrangements, and dramatic reconciliations with your deceased pet. The relationship was consistent, predictable, and reliable to a degree rarely achieved in our relationships with other people.

I turned to my side and studied the transparent, palm-sized square plastic case where Ilham used to keep a pet guppy. The death of the guppy had made him disconsolate that he refused to dispose of the deceased fish, or throw it into the rubbish bin. Instead, he left the guppy in its water. The guppy, he said, was a keeper of his innermost secrets; the guppy, like him, was a lonely creature swimming about in its narrow box waiting for its end. After a week, the water turned too murky that he was forced to clean it. When he did, we found out that the guppy had dissolved into nothing but blue slime, no traces of bones whatsoever, and Ilham had cried for hours. After Ilham left, there were times he came into my dreams as nothing but pieces of rotting skeletons connected together, and I would wake up in fright and contemplated whether his soul went to heaven, or if he had degraded like the guppy, diminished into total nothingness.

you may plan to devote five minutes every Monday evening to remembering, by either saying out loud or writing in a journal, one of the lessons you learned from your deceased pet, or something about them that you’ll always remember. Maybe, you’ll simply spend those minutes silently recalling what it felt like to be in their company.

It may be helpful to include a brief ritual to both honor your deceased friend and contain the time you devote to sadness.

Name/ First name: Madeline (mads, or maddy) Middle name: Marie Last name: Fractures --------------------------- Birth/ Age: 17 Date of birth: 9/13 Date of death: none Place of birth: West Place of death: none ---------------------------- Romantic and social/ Gender: Girl Sexuality: heterosexual Friends: 3 Boyfriend/ Girlfriend: none Crush: none ---------------------------- Personality/ Likes:hunting, reading, drawing, knife throwing, music, fighting Dislikes: none can think of Disorders: PTSD (explained in history) Personality: Strong, has had a rough life, may seem stuck up at times, is close to her 3 friends as she can be because she is afraid to loose them if they see her violent side. She has this side because of what happened when she and her twin brother were small. ---------------------------- History/ History: was born in west katos, and lost parents and older brothers when she was five, only she and her twin survived. Was on the streets for one year with her brother before he was found while he was looking for food. They were reunited at the age of 7 one year later. He was living at the palace with a noble family, she was allowed to return with him and stay, she soon became close friends with the secondborn boy Jacob (if this is'nt fine let me know). When she was 13 her brother was kidnapped by a group from the east, she soon discovered that they were the same group that killed their family.4 years later she is still looking. Now she works at the palace as a hunter, archivest, and guard, and does some art. Lore: ( Any lore behind your character?) ---------------------------- Appearance/ Description : Dark brown hari, Forest green eyes, and one scar on the left side of her face from her first fight. Picture: Hair: Dark Brown Eyes: kind of almond shaped but also round and are forest green Skin: lightly tan ---------------------------- Family/ Mother : Deceased Father: Deceased Husband/ Wife: None Sons/ Daughters/ Offspring : None ---------------------------- Other/ Living situation: Small cottage in woods with her 3 friends Money: not rich but not poor either Pets: A wolf named Alla (a-la) Job: Hunter, guard, and archivest Other Side: West