Dog Sad Stories Novels & Stories

“Not even once. There have been one or two that broke my heart, but I was never scared.” “Why did they break your heart?” “One was a stillborn. They knew the pup was stillborn, but mom had to go through labor, and delivery any way. That time I did what I could to help mom through it with dad. I spent the whole time wiping her tears, and holding her hand while dad sat behind her, and held her in his arms as best he could. The second time, mom got a tear in her uterine wall, and had to be rushed to surgery right after the pup was born. They couldn’t save her uterus because the tear was so bad even her wolf healing wasn’t enough to heal it with the help of stitching. She had to be told, the sam

My painting book is full of animals of the cat family but mostly wolves. I love animals. But there's a problem- they did not love me back, at least it is my belief that they don't, because all the pets I've got right from age three up till seven either died or fell so sick they had to be withdrawn from me. First, it was my puppy, Beckham. He died mysteriously one morning. Next was Lily my beautiful brown-eyed cat, she died too. My vet doctor said she was poisoned but no one could trace where the poison came from. Last was Batty, my lovely dog. His was the most painful to me.

With that thought in mind, Hazel decides to honor his memory by living her life to the fullest. One day, Hazel is walking in the park when she sees a lady sitting by herself on a bench, looking sad. She approaches the lady and asks, "Is everything okay, ma’am?" The lady looks up at her and says, "I lost my dog, and I'm so sad." Hazel's heart breaks for the lady, and she sits down next to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. Tell me about your dog." The lady tells her all about her dog, describing his silly personality and the way he always greeted her when she came home from work.

After my little brother, Cochran Ceberano, dies in a car crash, my parents hand the toy poodle he raised over to me. But I haul the dog to an unlicensed, back-alley animal clinic right away and have him neutered. Why? Because I've been reborn. In my previous life, on the day the dog arrives at our house, he suddenly turns vicious, scratching and biting me at every turn. Afraid of upsetting my parents, I bend over backward to win him over. I feed him the best dog food, and I even sleep next to him on the couch. But he only gets worse. Day by day, my sanity crumbles. Insomnia sets in, followed by auditory hallucinations. I even start dreaming that he's chasing me down and tearing me apart

Zoe is the best. "How exactly am I going to fix this, Zoe? We're thousands of miles apart." I sniffle, blow my nose and dab my eyes before taking a sip of mango tea from my favorite mug. It has a picture of Poppy on it, she was our family dog. A beautiful Schnauzer that we had for over ten years. I was only nineteen when dad had to take her to the vet and let her go over the rainbow. It broke my heart and I have sworn never to have pets again. It hurt as much as I am hurting right now. I wonder how many times a person can stand to have their heart broken before it never mends again.

“Mrs. Stanford, what do you want us to do?” Layla smoothed her messy hair and smiled coldly. “She killed my two‑million‑dollar pedigree dog. I only wanted to use her father’s urn. She refused, beat me, and pretended to be me to scam me.” It was complete slander. I never claimed to be Mrs. Stanford. We never killed her dog. She was the one who tried to take my father’s urn. “Take these two troublemakers away immediately,” the officers shouted, cutting off my thoughts.

I approach and see beautiful puppies, everyone is very excited trying to get my attention, some are cute and others bark excitedly I look closer and none catch my attention, not that they were ugly or anything like that, but I want a puppy that makes me feel something extra in my heart, not just because he's cute, but because he's different I'm almost giving up hope when I see him A cute little puppy that is sitting inside a box, looking down with a sad look I look at the young man who is serving us and ask --- Why is he-- I say pointing to the puppy-- is he so quiet?-- I ask still looking at the little puppy --- He? Well, he arrived here about a week ago, apparently his mother was killed by

“I hate you. You almost gave me a heart attack tonight.” I considered going home, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I hung out in the waiting room, watching people bringing in their dogs and cats. One woman had a cat that’d gotten run over by a car, poor thing; another woman brought in her dog who’d eaten some old Valentine’s Day chocolate. Right as the woman was telling the receptionist the story, the dog puked what I assumed was the chocolate all over the white tile. I’d just dozed off in my chair when a hand touched my shoulder. “Dani?”

His fur, once lustrous and vibrant, now bore the weight of his despair, matted and unkempt. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months as Lucas lost track of time stuck in his full wolf form. His once-proud spirit, now ravaged by the trials of grief and insanity, sought solace in the untouched wilderness. His howls carried the weight of anguish, a haunting lament that echoed through the trees, unheard by any but the moon and stars above.

Mental illness is not common amongst wolves. While our emotions are heightened, and we are quick to anger, delusion is not really heard of. Having a wolf spirit tends to prevent the brain from getting sick. The only time you hear about mental problems is when talking about rogues. But as soon as a wolf loses their mate, they change. This she-wolf is just crazy. "Look, Sasha, I am so sorry. If I had never slept with her, then you would have never been hurt. I can not believe she did that to you," Ben apologizes, and my annoyance spikes.