On the 29 of August around about 10:00pm my mum and dad almost ran over a young pigeon it didn’t look well and wasn’t breathing right so we put newspaper in a cardboard bpx and put in a tub of water and food and left it we soon later found out it had a illness, when i woke up it had unfortunately died.
:( :(
Kyle Law.
that is so sad.That happend to me once with a blue jay that cought its wing in a tree.most people will say oh well there just birds,but they have hearts to huh.this is very sad.I think i wrote just to much so I will stop writing …….know!
My dad was camping in th mountains one day, he had eaten chili for dinner, it didnt settle right so he farted. The smell was so bad it killed 3 birds and a skunk! Then he burped, it was so loud it shook, that killed 26 birds, 34 skunks, and 15 bears. This is truly a trajic and sad story.
omg this is soooo sad, a bird flew into our window!
my cat died november 2 2009 she was my best friend her name was axl and she was chubby. she had a blater infecshin . her favourite thing in the world was her rubber frog frogy. when she died frogy died with her. and sice they can`t berey her they had to put her in a box and they gently put her with her frogy in a fire.
hannah
Quite a few years ago, I had a young cat who went missing one day. We searched everywhere for him; put up adverts, walked the streets, phone vets, etc. We looked for eight weeks over the summer. One day, some builders knocked on the door with a very skinny cat. It had climbed into the floor of a house that was being built and got blocked in. A builder heard the cat through an air vent when he was on his hands and knees doing some work. They knocked a hole in the wall to get him out and then brought him to us because they remembered we were looking. Sounds like a happy story? It was until he got run over two weeks later! :-(
Steve
im sorry steve thats sooooo sad!!!!!
Where do I begin? Well my mom and dad found a baby chicken on the side of the road and they took him, we named him Peeps and for the first 3 days he was happy and loud then he began to get weaker, finally 5 days later he died in my hands… Then my Dog Casey was old so we had to out her to sleep only her twin sister Chersh was there to help us through her loss untill I let her out one night I wasnt thinking I was so stupid I blame my self for her death but that was the night Chersh died she was hit by a car and all because of me!Then the saddest one of all :( MY! dog Kodi and I were out hiking on the trails again I was stupid and didnt think it was getting late and the bears were starting to come out, I was lost how ever Kodi was my only hope untill a bear found us and chased us away now we were even more lost and it was dark and cold, I huddled up with Kodi for warmth (he was a pitbull btw) When night found us we both shiverd together but thats when I then relized where we were…on a cliffs edge I stood slowly in a panic the rocks cracked under me i picked up Kodi and began to climb up to the top but I got stuck half way, I stood there for over 3 hours gripping tightly to Kodi finally I made my mind up… let go of the dog or die… I loved Kodi more then anything and I would have gladly givin my life up for him to be safe but Kodi looked at me in a way of saying “Tori you have to let me go, save your self I’ll be fine..maybe someday we shall meet again.” So with tears streaming (like right now) I left the dog and climbed away. I was found 6 hours later and the people said they had my dog. over joyed they took me to see him but when I saw where he was my heart dropped Kodi had fallen off the edge getting to me now he lay in a bloody heap…dead thats why Kodi will for ever be my hero.
I have a sad story but its not true… But still its 100% sad!!!
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was “bad,” you’d shake your finger at me and ask, “How could you?” — but then you’d relent and roll me over for a belly rub. My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because “ice cream is bad for dogs” you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day. Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a “dog person” — still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a “prisoner of love.” As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch — because your touch was now so infrequent — and I would’ve defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered “yes” and changed the subject. I had gone from being “your dog” to “just a dog,” and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You’ve made the right decision for your “family,” but there was a time when I was your only family I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said, “I know you will find a good home for her.” They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with “papers.” You had to pry your son’s fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed “No, Daddy Please don’t let them take my dog!” And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, “How could you?” They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind — that this was all a bad dream… or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, “How could you?” Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said, “I’m so sorry.” She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn’t be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself — a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my “How could you?” was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
I dont have a name i am known as the puppy in cage 43, i dont have a family or a home i have a cage with wiring bottom that cuts my feet when i walk. I wine when i cant gey milk form my mother and when i cant get up because the wires sink into my skin. My sister barely moeves and when she does its in pain, she never moved from that corner till the day she died my mother and i mourned for her until the man came took her away and threw her in to a tall metal bin filled with lumps of fur. No symathy no sadness they just dumped her body and walked away. When i woke up the next morning i yowled in pain as my stomach rumbled and my cuts and wounds stung from the metal, normally my mother would lick my head and dooth me in my pain but she just lay there still and cold, i was just waiting until the man came and dumped her. I managed to put my muzle into her fur but there was nothing left noting left of her and when the man came and took her away i watched until they dumped her with the rest, now im alone and left to die in this metal cage. In the next week i layed and died from infection and disease known as nothing but the puppy in cage 43.
Just recently a headline in the world’s news of a 21 feet, 1 ton salt crocodile was captured alive in the remote province of the Philippines using a live dog as bait (poor fella).. Now the dying croc (being not used living away from it’s natural habitat) is fast becoming an attraction to the local & foreign community and locals claims that a BIGGER croc who allegedlly ate a water buffalo and a fisherman is still at large and may come looking for his mate anytime soon bringing more fear to the townfolks. I feel sad for the croc & remorse to the locals. I just hope they’ll release & leave the poor beast alone who is probably only following it’s primeval instinct of survival.
(YouTube Video)
Once when I was 2 years I had a dog with my mum and dad.
(Who died of a fishing line that got caught in a powerline)
He was a PitBull terrier black (so cut not vicious) and he never did anything
bad to ANYONE in the whole town. One morning, my mum was feding him then he jumped on her and accidentally scratched her on the arm.She thought he did it on purpose so she did something bad to him. (I don’t know what). When I
Turned 4 We got a new PitBull terrier brown (a bit cuter I’d die for him again)
Then a few months later my mum got scared cause he was barking so she kicked him out of the house and yard. When I woke up I burst into tears and now
(2012) I’m still really sad and he could be Safe,Dead :( or lost.
This is true. :(
They will be missed.
And no matter what happenes, I will always love both of them.