DAY OF MOURNING

Posted on | by Ed

Bear died Monday afternoon. He was 3, which is a good, long life for a rat, but I still feel like ass.

No matter how old I get, this is the only thing that has ever made sense of death for me. Incidentally, TV Guide rated this skit as the best moment in the history of television; I find it hard to disagree.

33 thoughts on “DAY OF MOURNING”

  • BrianC says:

    I'm truly sorry. We put our dog Wally (a.k.a. Bear) down on January 28th, and I cried over him three times yesterday. I wish I could say something better than "this sucks," but I'm not that wise.

  • Hann1bal says:

    Yeah, losing friends like that is awful. Last year, when I was away on my first semester of college, our family cat, Rosie, (older than me by several years) died, and I spent the whole damn afternoon feeling like shit. There are still times when I go home and I catch myself wondering where Rosie is. God, what a great cat, if only for putting up with me and my sibs for 18 years without going batshit bonkers. I feel for you, man.

  • Julie says:

    Losing pets is rough. They become part of the family, and while we know we won't have them for very long, it usually doesn't make it any easier to see them go.

    As for the clip, just wow. That was back when children's programming had some substance to it.

  • Natalie says:

    I'm so sorry about Bear, Ed. He was such a sweet rat and, as I told Liz, you guys were awesome rattie parents.

    (Also, Why did I watch that video? I've seen it before but I still cried.)

  • Jennifer says:

    I'm sorry for your loss, animals are such a wonderful gift but too quickly they're gone. I had to put my kitten down last year after nearly 21 years together. I miss her every single day.

  • Andrew says:

    We recently lost our two elderly cats within three weeks of each other. Bess died of cancer, and Tess missed her sister so much that she just pined away until she was down to 3.5 pounds and refused to eat or drink anything. Funny how they didn't get along all that well when they were both alive, but I guess there was something between them that mere two-legs can't understand. I'm sorry for your loss. One of the hazards of giving our hearts to those who have such short lifespans is that we wind up bereaved time and time again, but not loving them would be far worse.

  • BK says:

    Sorry for your loss Ed. I've buried more pets in my 32 years than I care to recount, and unfortunately it never gets any easier. I hope in time you'll be able to remember all the great times.

  • Desargues says:

    I'm sorry for your loss, Ed. I'm sure Bear had a good life, and was grateful for a family that cared about him. RIP.

  • Prudence says:

    Ed and Liz– I'm so sorry about Bear. Boring overshare: I was 13 when the adorable, perfect and unfailingly loyal Dobermann my parents bought me as a 1st birthday present (yeah, in retrospect I wondered if they'd hoped she would eat me too) died. Then, the next day my slightly evil great-grandmother died. We traipsed up country to her funeral and I remembered looking into her coffin to have a ghoulish gander at the corpse, seeing her hands clasped around a rosary, and wondering what her god would have to say about her being a total bitch (most notably to my father as a child) on the other side, and all the while crying over my wonderful dead dog. My extended family noted what a "sensitive child" I was, not being aware of my recent canine tragedy, and I decided there and then that this god of theirs couldn't be all that fantastic since my grandmother's priest had told me the mean old bag was bound for heaven but my dog was not. I think it was Mark Twain who said, "you can take a starving dog and make him prosperous and he will not bite you, the same cannot be said of men."

    Critters– we love them because they are exactly who they present themselves as. If only we could count on the same from people.

  • LucyTooners says:

    Only words of condolence to you and your family. When you lose a beloved animal companion it leaves a hole in your heart that you wonder if it will ever be filled. My husband and I had to say goodbye to our first and beloved dog Bart almost 3 years ago. It was and is still the most painful experience we have had to go through next to losing my husband's dad suddenly. The pain does come and go for a while. Hang in there and find it in your hearts to give life to another pet in the honor of Bear.

  • Angie says:

    Sorry for your loss, Ed. It's never easy losing a pet. I had to have one of my chickens put down two days ago as she was slowly starving to death from some mysterious ailment. I was surprised how bad I felt.
    RIP Bear
    RIP Wanda (and thanks for the eggs!)

  • Mark says:

    Our 5 rats (Buster, Harley, Dewey, Remmy and Cheesy) offer their condolences. Cheesy, a happy hairless fella who smells like cheese, recommends you adopt another rat from your local humane society because life without rats is pretty boring!

  • kiki says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. Years ago, one day at work, a person from another office called me, knowing I was an animal lover. She told me that her boss had just caught a mouse on a glue trap and thrown it alive into the trash outdoors. She wanted to know if I might want to try and save it. I went over and rummaged throught the trash until I found it. The poor thing was entiirely stuck along one side, its tail bent and probably broken from where the asshole had folded the trap in half before tossing it. After about a hour, with the help of some Goo Gone and a flat edged letter opener, I managed to free the little critter from the trap. I put her in a box with some water and peanut butter on a cracker, but she seemed half dead already and I was sure she wouldn't survive for very long. I took her home and in the morning I saw in the box some little pink blobs which, to my horror, I realized were babies she had miscarried from the trauma. But the little mouse was still alive and she had actually eaten a little. After a few days, I got up the courage to name her. I called her "Moosie" because her head was shaped like a moose head without the antlers. After a few weeks, I got her two pet store mice to keep her company. They cuddled and slept together, ran the wheel together and had a great time with each other. Unfortunately pet store mice do not live very long and I went through many of them during the course of Moosie's life. Moosie lived to be 3 years old, ancient for a wild mouse. I'll never forget the dread I felt the first time I noticed the signs, the signs I came to know so well from all the pet store mice. The day she died, I couldn't believe how broken my heart was, and how long and miserably I cried for her. I buried her under a tree in my back yard, where she still rests today. RIP Moosie and RIP Bear. Again, my sincerest sympathy for your sadness.

  • Scout Bear says:

    What an eloquent way to show your love and affection for Bear, Ed. My condolences. We lost our family dog in December. Scout was a 10-year-old black lab and I think of him every day. I'm glad for the time that I got to spend with him. We have two other dogs, and it has helped us a lot having them around.

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