Originally published on Facebook 9 April 2015.
Because I’ve experienced it many times myself and have just seen a couple of distraught friends report having to make their own difficult decision today:
Yes. Having a beloved pet means that someday you will weep.
This is a contract you sign the day you first look at a furry baby, and decide to take it into your home. The size of the hole felt, a few years later for you, a lifetime later for this creature whose fate wound up in your hands, is exactly the volume of the substance that filled it.
My only advice is that when the painful decision has to be made, make it without shame. You are not betraying your pet. You are doing the opposite of betraying your pet. You are taking on some pain for yourself, to spare some for your companion. No moment in your relationship will be a better definition of love. Nor will any moment better justify the trust your pet put in you, all its life.
If I have any wisdom to share, it’s this. If you can stand it at all, stay with your animal. I had one beloved cat, who loved me more single-mindedly than any being who ever walked this Earth, receive his shot and pass without closing his eyes; they were his eyes still, but there was no longer anything in them. I had another beloved cat die at age 4, after we spent months trying to save him. I had an hour with him at the vet’s office, holding him in my lap and thanking him for spending his short existence with us. That hour was me not leaving him alone with them, as the staff offered. That hour was me loving him up until the very last possible instant. I had another cat, in a shelter for years, contract a raging cancer only five months after we declared ourselves the family who would finally take him. He put his chin on my wrist and purred until he stopped. Feeling that was a privilege.
If this is what you’re facing, my sympathy to you. But this is an important part of your story together. Understand that it hurts only because it’s supposed to, and that the hurt is a final, defiant declaration. It’s part of the deal.
— Adam-Troy Castro
Comment By: Notary Tim Gatewood
July 25th, 2015 at 2:21 pm
Thank you. We have had to go through this with Shadow, Missy, Strider, and Chaucer. Each time, I say ” that is it. We will endure with the ones we have left and not add more grief to our lives by adding any more.” Each time, I am betrayed by love into accepting another into our home. Each of our current 4 joined us after a predecessor passed away. None of them replace the ones who are no longer with us, but they do distract us from our grief and help us to bear it.
Comment By: Dale Ballard
July 25th, 2015 at 2:21 pm
Beautiful.
Comment By: Barb Padgett
July 25th, 2015 at 7:18 pm
Yes. This. Thank you.
Comment By: Camilla Cracchiolo
February 8th, 2016 at 6:56 pm
If you must put your pet to slerp, and you can at all afford it, have the vet come to your house. Then you can hug and kiss and talk to them without the stress and terror of the vet’s office. We dod this when my beloved cat got cancer. It was *so* much better.
Comment By: Annelies van der Leeden
September 16th, 2016 at 11:18 am
I’ve had to shoulder that responsiblity for other people’s pets too. The only time that I felt ashamed was the time when I allowed someone else to talk me into prolonging a pet;s suffering.
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 11:18 am
In 20 years I have had to put 2 old dogs to sleep. The first I now realize I kept around for months too long. The second I was afraid I was overreacting with too early.. took a vet opinion to make me ok with my decision. It is never easy.
Comment By: Lauretta Nagel
September 16th, 2016 at 11:18 am
It is required of us to be good stewards of those we hold in our care.
Comment By: Becky Kyle
September 16th, 2016 at 12:17 pm
It is the hardest decision you will ever make
Comment By: Katherine Walsh
September 16th, 2016 at 12:18 pm
So sorry. Whatever time you have together is never long enough.
Comment By: Barb Padgett
September 16th, 2016 at 12:18 pm
When I had to make that choice for my cat Tribble, I stayed with him until the end. I was determined that the last sound he would hear would be my voice telling him how much I loved him.
Comment By: Dave Meyer
September 16th, 2016 at 12:18 pm
I used to think this sort of thing would get easier as I got older. It hasn’t worked out that way.
Comment By: Bob Toy
September 16th, 2016 at 12:18 pm
Gods, Adam-Troy, I went through similar experiences to both of your examples…and I held them both as they died. Always loved, never forgotten, any of them.
Comment By: Gregg Chamberlain
September 16th, 2016 at 12:18 pm
ta-merci, adam-troy… i shared this to my own page because me and my anne know the feeling very well in the past few years.
Comment By: Connie Hirsch
September 16th, 2016 at 12:18 pm
This year when I set up the appointment for Muppet’s euthanasia, the vet tech asked me if it was going to be “accompanied” and I literally couldn’t understand what she was saying, because a) it was an awkward way to put it and b) it would never in a hundred years occur to me to take a pet in and not expect to be there at its death.
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 1:17 pm
When I brought Bonnie in they asked If I wanted to be there…I said I didn’t WANT to but owed it to her.
Comment By: W. Owen Powell
September 16th, 2016 at 1:17 pm
That is actually my greatest fear with Sofie, that something will happen to her unexpectedly while I’m out of the house or under other circumstances, to cause her to spend her last moments wondering where I am and why I’m not there with her.
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 2:18 pm
I hope not to have to deal with this again soon….with 3 healthy indoor cats from 1.5 to 11 years old I hope we have some good years left.
Comment By: Elena Gaillard
September 16th, 2016 at 4:17 pm
I’ve been with 5 of my 7 cats when they passed. We are not rushing to get another cat — Lucy died in March — because neither of us is sure we can face doing that again.
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 4:17 pm
I waited over a year after first dog before even considering another. In the meantime a stray found us. I was very lucky to have so much time with each of them.
Comment By: W. Owen Powell
September 16th, 2016 at 1:17 pm
My cat jumped up onto me just as the news scrolled past on my feed this morning, and I had to hug her extra tight at that moment.
Comment By: T-Roy Lent
September 16th, 2016 at 1:17 pm
Thank you for sharing. I’ve a 9 year old kid and a ailing 19 year old cat so I’ll have to not only do right by my cat but also help her deal with the loss.
Comment By: Gab Halasz
September 16th, 2016 at 3:20 pm
Poor Shopkat, poor Jim. ð
Comment By: Adam-Troy Castro
September 16th, 2016 at 4:17 pm
The big one for me was Ralph, who died at (goddammit) four. Just as I arrived at the vet with him, I received word that she had had to leave for a family emergency and would not be back for an hour. They told me I could leave, go home and return if I wanted. I said, no, dammit, I am TAKING that hour. And so I sat there with him, that full hour, playing with him, petting him, saying sweet things to him. He was still energetic, really — enough to inspect his surroundings and keep returning to me — but I remember talking to him for that full hour, thanking him for what he had given us during his short life.
I would not have sacrificed that hour for anything.
By not being in the room, you shortchange yourself.
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 4:17 pm
I really worry about my ability to deal with a Ralph type situation. I and my parents have been lucky enough to have our dogs for many years… never had to deal with such sudden loss. I am very sorry for your loss, Adam-Troy Castro
Comment By: Adam-Troy Castro
September 16th, 2016 at 4:17 pm
Thank you. It was years ago, and we still have a couple of the cats who were around then, Uma (who loved him, as she loves all her surrogate babies), and Farrow (who thought he was a pain in the ass).
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 4:17 pm
As we deal with our newly 3-cat household, we just remember to give all love and attention we can to all 3.
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 4:17 pm
And they all consider each other a pain in the ass to some extent.
Comment By: Adam-Troy Castro
September 16th, 2016 at 5:18 pm
Uma is…special. The most naturally maternal animal I have ever had, she remains Mommy even after the newcomers are grown. (Gilbert was pretty much grown when he entered this home, and she is STILL Mommy.)
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 5:18 pm
No maternal figures here…oldest Cali and youngest Slater-Kitty have bonded more since new Lulu showed up with her “best defense is a good offense” philosophy fueled by months with 2 big aggressive male cats…but it’s still mainly every cat for herself
Comment By: Bob Wilson
September 16th, 2016 at 5:18 pm
Shared this, A-TC. Hope that’s OK. Your name at the top of my post.
Comment By: Pat Long
September 16th, 2016 at 5:18 pm
When l promise my critters l will take care of them for the rest of their lives, it includes the final kindness. This is not a reflection on the quality of clinic care, rather the bond of love and trust.
Comment By: David Vineyard
September 16th, 2016 at 5:18 pm
I’ve been luck only having to put two down. The others died quietly at home, with no suffering. I was with all of them though. It’s the least you can do for the love and pleasure they give.
Comment By: Melissa G Arredondo
September 16th, 2016 at 5:18 pm
ShopKat was loved by many!!
Comment By: Grond Zilla
September 16th, 2016 at 6:17 pm
That my friend (please excuse my familiarity) is some eloquent prose. This is the very bargain we make in being host to companions who can only tell us of their feelings for us through their actions and their trust.
Also…dammit again! First Jim and now you somehow managing to get stuff in my eyes…from far far away…over the internet! The internet must be full of dust today.
Comment By: David R. Palmer
September 16th, 2016 at 7:17 pm
I would *never* allow a pet to be taken into another room to be put down. That would be the ultimate abandonment. I have always been there, holding them, when the Time Comes. I always will…
Comment By: Lee Wood
September 16th, 2016 at 7:17 pm
I had the vet come to my house and held my elderly cat, already at death’s door and suffering from kidney failure, as he gave him the shot, pet him and talked to him as he died so that the last thing he ever felt was loved. Hardest thing I’ve ever done. If you can’t do that for your pet, don’t have one.
Comment By: Sheila
September 16th, 2016 at 7:27 pm
One of the hardest decisions my husband and I had to make was to euthanize our springer spaniel due to uncontrollable seizures. Our once brilliant girl was reduced to one seizure after the other with no medical intervention able to stop them. After 24 hours of trying to save her, the vet determined that the brain damage she suffered would be debilitating even if we were to try to wait the seizures out. The hardest decision was also one of the best decisions, we got to say good bye and tell her we loved her, we were able to watch her peacefully pass on. We were able to take her home and bury her next to her cat and dog siblings that had passed on before her.
Comment By: Dawn Sundene Johnson
September 16th, 2016 at 8:18 pm
Rest in peace, ShopKat. It’s important to be there every step of the way for these dear friends. I will never forget my Rosie, nor my Sam, nor watching my husband cuddle his little Loki, even beyond the moment of his passing. They give us so much. It’s the least we can do.
Comment By: Alison Spencer
September 16th, 2016 at 9:19 pm
Couldn’t get vet to come to our house for Bonnie, but took her to the vet office that she has been 100% comfortable with ever since we moved here. I sat with her throughout ..so glad she went fast and quietly.
Comment By: Amy Bisson
September 16th, 2016 at 10:18 pm
My Mom’s first maltipoo, Peanut, decided he didn’t like to eat. We took him to the vet, to the emergency vet, tried different foods, tried people food, tried force feeding him, he just refused to eat and got weaker and weaker. Finally my Mom told me to stop trying to force him to eat, it was only prolonging his inevitable. I will never forget watching that semi-comatose puppy, looking to see if he finally passed. One of the saddest days of my life, probably second only to the day my Dad died.
Comment By: Jan Murphy
September 16th, 2016 at 10:18 pm
ShopKat is gone? Oh . My condolences to Jim Wright. 🙁
Comment By: Sunshine Sally DeGamble Johnson
September 16th, 2016 at 10:18 pm
I’ve known the pain several times in my life… I couldn’t take it anymore after my last one… but I know how lucky I’ve been to know my big dogs and how much I loved and received their love and loyalty back
Comment By: Heather Park-Albertson
September 17th, 2016 at 2:18 am
I was fortunate. Last December, when I had to say goodbye to our Tuxedo – names get simpler as you take in strays – I was able to have a vet make a house call. I don’t think I could have handled the drive to the vet, short as that distance was, on my own. Each time, the vets have offered us the opportunity to just say goodbye and leave beforehand. Each time, we hold them as they relax that last time, and then as their breath ends. It’s the final act of love we can give them. Wish we could do as much for our human loved ones, when they want it.
Comment By: Linda Hepden
September 17th, 2016 at 6:23 am
My sister some years back had to take her two cats (litter mates) to the vets as both had terminal medical conditions and she felt that it was kinder to Sam and Oscar to let them go at the same time rather than allow one to grieve for his brother for the last few months of his life. She was so shocked when the nurses just picked both cats up and whisked them into the next room without even asking if she wanted to be there that she lost the chance to call them back and protest her exclusion from the twins’ passing. She never did forgive that vets surgery, and chose to go to the next town over in future.
Comment By: Danny Sichel
November 28th, 2016 at 9:02 pm
The thing about pets is… we outlive them.
*sigh*
Comment By: Emily Devenport
March 11th, 2018 at 10:17 am
You always second-guess yourself. And the sad thing about grief is that it always contains an element of guilt.
Comment By: Adam-Troy Castro
March 11th, 2018 at 10:17 am
Yup.
The terrible risk is that by dwelling, you render the memories of the pet’s death more vivid to you than the life. Ralph’s death was so untimely that it occupies far more than its far share of our memories of him, when the fact was, he was a delightful, playful and loving cat.
Comment By: Therese Dahl
March 11th, 2018 at 10:17 am
You owe them a painless death in the end.
Comment By: Adam-Troy Castro
March 11th, 2018 at 10:17 am
My biggest fear on Ralph is that we tried too hard, but even the vet kept saying there was hope, and he did show enjoyment of life even on that last day. The vet said that it would only get bad from there.
Comment By: Therese Dahl
March 11th, 2018 at 10:17 am
Yeah, sometimes it’s really hard to tell when it’s time. Animals are so stoic.
Comment By: Tony Kyle
March 11th, 2018 at 11:18 am
Been there twice in 2 years. It is still very painful and there is always doubt of did we do enough.
Comment By: Sara Clifton
March 11th, 2018 at 10:17 am
I’m grateful our vet has a place set aside so families can stay together.
I hate even thinking about this. It hurts too much.
Comment By: L.J. Bothell
March 11th, 2018 at 4:17 pm
I wish there was a hug icon for facebook. I know how you feel.
Comment By: Michael Merriam
March 11th, 2018 at 10:17 am
Of course in the end we get our hearts broken. This love. It’s hard, but it love.
Comment By: Jay Sheckley
March 11th, 2018 at 10:18 am
Best down stay ever. OUCH.
Comment By: Susan Eggers
March 11th, 2018 at 10:18 am
Thank you for sharing this. I needed to hear it as I’m dealing with my broken heart. (See his sweet face to the left)
Comment By: Bianca DiRuocco
March 11th, 2018 at 10:18 am
The only three times I havenât been there at the end weâre the three we lost unexpectedly (no, not all at once). Two died in their sleep, apparently peacefully, the third died at home alone while I was at work. Two of the three had given absolutely no indication of illness. Turned out one had cancer, and another the vet couldnât find a cause. The third had had a stroke and never recovered. Grateful he went peacefully and quickly.
Comment By: Pat Var
March 11th, 2018 at 10:18 am
We had a particularly hard several months in 2010-11 wherein we had to make this decision twice in 2 months for our old puppy pals. One was expected at 18 yrs old, the other one was a shock at 10 yrs old. We’d already lost our 18 yr old cat, Loco, the same year. It was a couple of years after all that before I could even think about getting another dog without bursting into tears. When we were able to look at petfinder listings with anticipation, we took our time and found Merlin the magical dog in late 2013. Merlin had a bad experience with a feral cat that ambushed him, and he went from being curious to fearful and angry around cats. I’ve been working on desensitizing him (thanks to PetSmart and the vet’s resident cats), so I’m hopeful that we can get a feline friend again in the future without being unfair to either cat or dog. I still miss my old four-footed guys, but now I can look at their photos and snuffle with happiness and gratitude at all the years we had with them.
Comment By: Sharon Henderson
March 11th, 2018 at 10:18 am
I agree, it’s part of the bargain. When I let go of my beloved friend back in January, he was so tired, in such pain. It would have been horrible to keep him alive like that. Our relationship had become Mom arrives home, Baby runs to hide because Mom means meds, Fighting to get meds into Baby, and then Mom struggles not to cry as we cuddled and fell asleep. I couldn’t do that to him any more. He had loved me all his life, and I have loved him to the end. Now he’s free, and I look forward to the many stories of his adventures since we’ve been on diverging paths. <3
Comment By: Ethan Hobart
March 11th, 2018 at 11:18 am
Of the six rats we’ve had die, 4 of them did so suddenly and quickly of age related issues(hearts suddenly giving out most likely), and 2 we had to have put down. One, Dean, was as easy decision, after he had a massive stroke that left him blind, deaf, immobile, and unable to eat even when hand fed. The other, Bobby, was hanging on through slow organ failure. He reached a point where he was constantly struggling to breathe, with obvious pain, which could only be relieved for an hour or so at a time with doses of children’s strength cough syrup. We were agonizing about whether we were doing the right thing or not right up until we were in the vet’s office. I still feel pangs about it.
Comment By: Eric Gubelman
March 11th, 2018 at 11:18 am
This is me saying goodbye to Baxter on Monday. A final photo to etch the memory before the vet ended his suffering. Baxterâs humans were there and I looked him in the eyes as he faded out. I saw gratitude. I am at peace.
Comment By: Carol Gibson
March 11th, 2018 at 12:17 pm
I am so sorry for loss. They take a part of you when they go.
Comment By: L.J. Bothell
March 11th, 2018 at 4:17 pm
I am so sorry. Hugs.
Comment By: Carol Gibson
March 11th, 2018 at 12:17 pm
On February 8 I had to put my dog Hermes and my cat Llira to sleep. I have never had to do two at once and it was devastating. We knew Llira we were losing Llira she had been diagnosed with cancer in December. Hermes was old he almost 18 but at wellness check in December he passed with flying colors.
We carefully were watching Llira for loss of quality of life that week she was not eating well and we were talking of maybe it was getting time. Then Hermes got sick he couldn’t keep food down in less than 18 hours later he was barely walking so we went to the vet.
We knew it was bad and we decided to take Llira as well. The vet did a very through exam of Hermes and found a mass pancreas that was not there in December so it was aggressive. There was no hope and we could see how fast he was fading so we said goodbye to him and then to Llira.
I know we did the right thing. Llira may have had a few more weeks of quality life left and I was the one who said I didn’t think I could do this twice I was honest with the vet on this. He told me that I couldn’t be sure that she had a few weeks she might or she could start to go south quickly. Once they they lose interest in food thing progress quickly.
He reassured be that she was dying and that my emotional health was important too and that sometimes people choose to let an animal go sooner than later because they can’t watch it others hold on longer in his opinion neither is right or wrong as long as the animal is not suffering.
I really wanted Hermes to die at home of old age like I have with some of my other pets. But it is what it is and I have to make this decision before and it is a decision you make because you love them so much.
Comment By: Matthew B. Tepper
March 11th, 2018 at 12:17 pm
After 54 years, I still miss my cat.
Comment By: Bianca DiRuocco
March 11th, 2018 at 12:17 pm
Iâve had more cats than I can count easily at this point. Of those that are gone, I canât think of a single one I donât miss, and would, if I could magically bring them back to a miraculous instant healthy kittenhood, wave that wand immediately.
Comment By: Gail Shelton
March 11th, 2018 at 1:18 pm
We are doing doggie hospice for our grand dog, Dolly the Princess Pitbull. She is on Lasix for fluid in her lungs due to heart failure and has been doing great. Until recently. Her cough is getting worse and worse. I worry about knowing when the right time will be, when it does come. Hell, we essentially had to do this with my dadâ but thatâs another story.
Comment By: Karl J Martin
March 11th, 2018 at 2:18 pm
I was startled the first time a vet suggested that I could leave the room. I hadn’t imagined that anyone would leave a pet alone at the end like that.
Comment By: Michael Pullmann
March 11th, 2018 at 6:17 pm
I couldn’t bring myself to stay with my dog (I was 16, every nerve I had was raw), but my mom did. He went to sleep in her hands.
Comment By: Rebecca Maines
March 11th, 2018 at 2:18 pm
We have a big cat family, so weâve been through this a lot of times. It never gets easier; the only part that gets easier with experience is knowing when itâs time.
One of ours was put to sleep at a specialist animal hospital where sheâd been treated for lymphoma over the previous couple months. (She also had a seizure disorder, which sheâd had all her life, and which disguised the early symptoms of the lymphoma.) She was a bundle of personality, and when she died, the entire ER staff cried with me. Afterward, when I walked out into the lobby, a woman whoâd been there with her dog when I arrived approached me and asked, âDid she make it?â I told her no, and this total stranger hugged me and let me sob on her shoulder. I will always be grateful for the kindness of everyone there, but especially that stranger.
Comment By: Bianca DiRuocco
March 11th, 2018 at 5:18 pm
Whenever we go to the emergency vet, I have a hefty stash of tissues in my pocket (Iâve learned to keep a full size box in the car at all times). I routinely donate it to someone in need.
Comment By: Evelyn Gingersnap Jackson
March 11th, 2018 at 4:17 pm
This is the hardest thing. They give us their lives. We give them, if possible, a good death. That is indeed the deal.
Our three cats are all around the same age. I try not to think about it too much.
Comment By: L.J. Bothell
March 11th, 2018 at 4:17 pm
I am so sorry for your friend, and I am glad you are there for her.
I do not doubt, mainly because this is what I wish for myself when it is my time, if I had the choice and means. It is quiet, simple, seems painless, and is just going to sleep first.
But it was such a hard, hard decision with Tannis (2001), because I kept hoping that if she would just eat she would regain her strength. Then I talked with her on ‘that’ morning, told her how I felt and what she was showing me, stroked her, and I realized that she was ready. Her expression and exhaustion (kidney failure) told me what I needed to know, so I was lucky to have a mobile pet vet come out, and for her to be safe at quiet home.
I will do the same for Anya as well as I can, when it seems to be her time. I already hurt, because I look at her sometimes and know the emptiness I will feel. But I just love her the best I can.
Comment By: Wyman Cooke
March 11th, 2018 at 5:18 pm
When Sylvester was maimed by another cat and the vet did not hold out any hope of recovery, we finally went in to end his pain. I held him on the table as the vet gave him the shot. One second he was there and the next he was gone. I’m sad all over again writing this.
Comment By: Alma Alexander
March 11th, 2018 at 6:17 pm
I have done this several times. THey take a piece of my heart with them when they go. But I owe them. I OWE THEM. They are mine, I am theirs, and that lasts to the end. Even if it breaks me.
Comment By: David Vineyard
March 11th, 2018 at 8:19 pm
I’ve done it when their quality of life was gone, luckily most of mine lived to a considerable age and went down quickly in a matter of hours at the end, often before I could get them to the vet.
Still I’ve held one as the vet put them under and you never forget.
Comment By: Tracy Brown
March 11th, 2018 at 9:17 pm
I have emotionally slaughtered myself for waiting too long or trying too hard with a few of my cats over the years. Only three were cases where they, in their own way, politely let me know they were ready to leave us. It’s the last most loving thing we can do for them. and now I can’t see my screen.
Comment By: Charlie Boyd
March 12th, 2018 at 12:19 am
I had to handle this kind of loving duty for my parents more times than I canrecall, originally as gravedigger and then when I got my driver’s license, as the guy whotook our pets to and from the vets. Never easy, but those animals loved us so I owed it to them to do it and do it right.
Comment By: Mark A. Mandel
September 12th, 2021 at 1:12 pm
Ista came into our lives in January 2007, a lost or abandoned kitten yowling in the cold outside our back door. She took over our all our hearts that day: mine, my wife’s, and our adult daughter’s and son’s. I lost my wife in 2011, and within a couple of years both the “children” had moved out. For about seven years, then, Ista was my sole companion.
This is a letter I wrote on July 15, 2021, 2:09 PM:
I’m in the vet’s office now, since 11:00 or so. … And since I started writing this message, after an examination the doctor explained to me how sick Ista was, much worse than I’d realized. They could treat some of her problems, but her kidney disease was pretty bad, and her paws were badly infected; I’d have to take her to the Penn Vet hospital for treatment. And no matter what was done, her quality of life would be pretty poor.
Or they could put her out of her pain, here and now: starting with a heavy sedative and after that took effect, the final injection. I could be with her through that.
We talked about the alternatives, and I asked for a few minutes to consider. My God! No good options.
I opted for euthanasia. They left me alone with her for a while in a small room, maybe ten minutes. I took a bunch of pictures. Then I knocked to say I was ready.
I don’t want to describe any more of it, not that it’s awful or anything of the kind, but I don’t want to go through it again by describing it; it’s too soon. I petted her and sang to her,some of the songs I’ve written about her.
They asked what I wanted afterward. I asked to have her cremated and for me to get the ashes. For a little while they’ll be on my shelf next to my sister’s ashes; then, I think, I’ll take them to some quiet wooded place and sprinkle them on the ground.