I am in the process of writing a column for Ladies Home Journal on dead pets. (I am not making this up.) Clearly not the best use of my snarky irreverence, if you ask me, but a paycheck is a paycheck, so who wants to help me bring home a little bacon? (And not the dead-pig kind, although it is sort of fitting to think about it that way. And my condolences if your pet pig died. Feel free to use the comments section to tell me all about little Babe.)

I need people to share their stories of beloved furry best friends passing on into that great green field/fishbowl in the sky. Specifically, I need:

* Advice on coping with the loss–did anyone say or do anything particularly profound that helped ease the pain?

* Thoughts on euthanasia. ( Are we having fun yet?) How do you make the quality-over-quantity of life call? How did you feel about it? Any regrets either way (i.e. not being there, waiting too long, letting a vet talk you into it too soon, etc.)?

* Cremation versus burial (versus, perhaps, flushing down the toilet). Discuss.

* Thoughts on re-populating with a new pet. (Of COURSE Fido can’t be replaced… but can another pet fill the void he left?)

* What NOT to say to someone who has just lost a pet. (Example: “He smelled really bad anyway.”)

Look, my dear friends. This is NOT a fun column to write. So I have decided to go for gut-wrenching emotional tearjerker.

Won’t you help me out?

I love you, really. But not in a creepy way. And if you ever need someone to help you bury a pet*, you can totally call me.


*unless it’s a horse or larger