"You have gone ahead and nothing is the same, leaving paw prints on my heart that will always remain."--
Tibetan Proverb from Prayers
on The Wind
Here you come, all 3 lbs., running like the wind in the grass. Your ears are laid back as your back legs nearly pass your front ones. Sheltie figure 8's and twirls. What a happy, tiny Sheltie girl you are. Who would know that the Rainbow Bridge has been calling you since you were five months old? This day in June, you had your very first birthday. What a Happy Day. All these months of 3 to 5 meds twice a day and bi-monthly blood tests have postponed your meeting with those who have gone before you. How long can the meds and that one tiny deformed kidney keep you running and playing? Let's not ask. Let me enjoy seeing your happiness, love of life and the adoring looks from those big, dark eyes. You lay here in my lap, looking up as to ask why are you crying? Let's go out in the sun and play our day away!
Thumbelena was diagnosed with renal failure 12/14/06 and given only a week or so to live. We lost her July 4, 2007. Thanks to months of Very special veterinary care she experienced a happy, loving life.
You are ALWAYS in my heart. With Love, Tummy's Mom.
A year has past since you came home to us and then flew to the Bridge. We still think about you and miss you. You are not forgotten, Faith.
Although many tears have been shed, we have also shared many smiles as we think about the very special and happy days we shared with you.
We love you and miss you, Faith. And we always will.
With much love from your family
"There are various places within which a dog may be buried. We are thinking now of a setter, whose coat was flame in the sunshine, and who, so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This setter is buried beneath a cherry tree , under four feet of garden loam, and at its proper season the cherry strews petals on the green lawn of his grave. Beneath a cherry tree, or an apple, or any flowering shrub of the garden, is an excellent place to bury a good dog. Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy summer, or gnawed at a frivolous bone, or lifted head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death. Yet it is a small matter, and it touches sentiment more than anything else.
For if the dog be well remembered, if sometimes he leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, questing, asking, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where that dog sleeps at long and at last. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees are roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pasture land , where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained, and nothing lost -- if memory lives. But there is one best place to bury a dog. One place that is best of all.
If you bury him in this spot, the secret of which you must already have, he will come to you when you call -- come to you over the grim,
People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his football, who hear no whimper pitched too fine for mere audition, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them then, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing.
The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master. -- "by Ben Hur Lampman
Faith, you are in our heart!!!
October 21, 1997-August 6, 2008
I was known as Nutter or Nutty Nut Nut or Nutella.
I loved playing tug with my rope bone. I carried it around like it was my prize possession. If you didn't feel like playing, I would just spend time pulling out the single threads of the toy, just to say I could and to see if you were keeping an eye on me.
Rainstorms were like party time for me. I thought lightning was so pretty and noisy that I just had to run outside to bark at the sky and yell, "Is that all you got? Bring it on!" I also remember you wondering why I whined when it snowed outside. Well, it wasn't because I didn't want to get my paws wet or cold. I just wanted to slurp up the white stuff (it looked like ice cream to me, and oh how I loved my ice cream!) Of course, you finally realized this when we'd pull up to Sonic and I'd crawl over your lap and practically push the order button on my own to get my doggie cup of ice cream.
Even though I wasn't much for cuddling. I loved it when you gave me the "Sheltie back scratch" or tummy rub when I would roll on my back. Truth be told, I was very laid back about anyone else around me. I shared my space freely with my fellow four-legged friends and any of my two-legged friends. My first sister was Ginger, when my mom and dad were Peggy and Don. I loved them so much! After I was adopted by Jodi and Anna, they brought me a tiny little black and white Sheltie Companion named Cocoa. We kept each other company when our moms went off to work each day. As step-sisters, Cocoa and I had an understanding..the futon was hers, the pillow in the office was hers, the blanket by the bed was hers, and the rest of the house was all mine!
Since I have been away from you for so long now, I miss you more each day. When you findly come home, across the Rainbow Bridge, I'll plant some sweet kisses on your nose to say that I'm glad to see you again. As you all know, my motto was: "Bend down to my level, so I can plant a big wet one on ya!" Until we meet again, please know I am in good hands and they give me all the food and treats I could ever want over here. They even have a microwave where I can cook myself some turkey bacon Mmm, bacon is like Heaven to me and the next best thing to my time spent with you!
Within a relatively short time Bonne Belle's true personality started peeking out. You could almost see "Miss Pretty" wrinkle that long pointed nose in disgust when her "Big Pillow" (bedding throw) wasn't changed at least every 5 days. And after a couple of years, if I mistakenly made up her bed with Andy's throw, she wouldn't lay on it, but would stand and stare at me until I noticed my mistake and changed the throws to the "right" bed. This would make me laugh and she would too, her mouth open and her tongue looping to one side. She'd developed both self-confidence and a sense of humor over the years and loved playing to the sound of laughter!!!
It took about 9 months for "Miss Pretty" to walk on a leash, but when she did---- it sure got noticed!!!! I was taking the "guys" to the Vet for check-ups, and because I thought I'd end-up carrying her in, I took Andy in first going back to the car to get Bonne. I ended up utterly FLABBERGASTED as Bonne, bounded up the stairs into the vet's office almost as fast as her paws hit the ground... getting to her beloved Andy far surpassed her fear of either the leash or the doctor. Standing in the middle of the waiting room with tears running down my cheeks, I heard Shelley, the receptionist, "ahhing" and laughing (as was most of the waiting room) with Andy and Bonne Belle blissfully greeting each other with a "kiss" -- After all they'd been apart a whole 5 minutes!
Every dog likes stuffed toys -- right? After several tries with ignored stuffed animals, we finally hit the jackpot! Bonne fell in love with a soft cushiony lime green stuffed rat. "Ratty" was the only thing that would get dirty as he could only be washed when Bonne was at the groomers. Like a child, she couldn't sleep without him, her nose on or under its soft body and her paws always within reach of it. She LOVED that silly looking thing. Bonne's caring and confidence list was slowly growing that first year-- exploring the backyard with her adored Andy, clean "big pillows", being called "Pretty Girl" or "Baby Girl" (she realized that was special), being brushed, her Ratty -- AND she was starting to like and trust me too.
"Play-Dates" are not just for kids as Bonne Belle, as home social activities director, showed us. At least once a day she'd go to Andy and invite him to go outside with her where they'd sit on the back porch or walk the fence (and gossip) with Crispin the dog living in the house behind us. Bonne and I would "do lunch"!!!! She always saved part of her "breakfast" to eat with me at around 1:00 PM when I ate lunch. It became such a ritual that even when I'd eat out, I'd bring home a "doggie bag" to finish off (even if just a roll) with her, with me rudely talking with my mouth full (oh, the gossip that little girl could tell!!!!). We really DID bond over lunch.
Our SWEET little Bonne Bell died last week. She is missed terribly, but I'm so grateful we had the chance to know her. Even with her awful start in life, "Miss Pretty's" personnel courage shone through and helped her gain the confidence she needed to give and receive the love she always deserved.
From the moment Gracie stepped out of her crate to greet us we knew our little "Collie girl" was a special lady. Even though she was born blind we could see into her soul and her soul could see us too. We truly believe that she chose us as much as we chose her. Little did we know how much she would teach us unconditional love and her never give up on anything spirit even if things were challenging. The many things we take for granted were not easy for her, but she overcame the odds and enjoyed a full yet short life. She is now watching us from above and we feel her presence in everything we do. Her brothers and sisters miss her dearly and her attempts at playing frisbee (blind dog-go figure!)
"Blind dogs see with their hearts"
Gracie Cusachs
May 2, 2003 - March 18, 2009
And it was clear there wasn't much time left,
The old boy was just what he was, no more no less
But worthy of a better life for the little that was left.
With warts and tumors and absolutely no humor,
He taught us to love him.
And in his own way he said thanks every day.
We knew it, even though sometimes it was not easy to see through it.
He was the crabby old man, who would chomp on your hand.
He didn't mean anything by it. He really just couldn't fight it
Uncertain of himself and conscious of his own weakness,
He would muster his attitude to hide his feebleness.
And yet the boys all knew he was the alpha male,
Once mighty but now oh so frail.
And though he couldn't see, he just snarled and snapped as to say
"I used to be like you, and you will be like me one day."
That big old head, hanging off those tired old bones
Bobbin and weaving, amidst all of his moans,
Not one to stop and give up, you could tell that inside
No one else would have taken him, with his condition so grim.
But we had to have him, as he was our friend.
So in the cold reality of the situation
Grew a mutual respect and appreciation.
In the still of the morning when I would wake him,
I was hopeful he was still with us, and I would shake him
Peering out from the fog of sleep, in his soft lair,
I could tell he too was thankful that he was still there.
As I slipped on his muzzle, cradling him with quiet joy,
I would lean into his deaf ears and whisper,
"I wish I knew you when you were a puppy, old boy,"
And in the end, when we knew it was time,
We were sad but thankful for out limited time,
And as he laid there giving his last breath,
Somehow I understood the meaning of death.
Now he is gone, and what remains
Is the memory of Cooper, free from his pain
Running in fields with others as lucky,
Living forever as my young puppy.
He remembered when he was a pup.
We all sat on the floor, and within 30 minutes, I was holding this sweet little rescue in my arms withour incident. She also laid calmly by her new daddy for quite some time, accepting many kind pets and words
before we said our "goodbyes" and started working on setting a date for her to go to her "forever" home with us and her two sheltie brothers. Needless to say, we were so excited for her arrival. We were told that she and her foster parents had an "arrangement" involving a pet taxi as transportation for going outside and coming back in, and we actually witnessed her do this routine on our visit. No hill for a climber, w could certainly work with that.
We picked her up on December 20th, loaded her in the car, and made the 30 minute drive home. Her new daddy sat in back and talked to the little girl reassuring her that she was coming to a good place, and that she would have a good life with us and her two new brothers. All the while, her new mommy drove home, reading road signs through teary eyes, knowing we would make a difference in her life. Once home, we introduced Silvey to Rudy and Max. Instantly, they became inseparable and settled into life as siblings. They played, slept, sniffed, and wrestled with each other constantly. She even gave us a Christmas present! On December 25th, she decided to go outside and back in using the stairs on her own. You can't fit that into a stocking! Within a few months, her coat filled in beautifully and she held her head high. We even witnessed her tail wag. She had truly begun to transform into a Princess!
For the next six years, she loved to play hide-n-seek with her daddy and enjoyed a daily nose-to-nose moment with her mommy, followed by aback scratch. Silvey whimpered her good morning greeting to her daddy every morning and followed him around the patio giving the sheltie smile and a tail wag as she received praise and love. She would bound around the yard like a bucking bronco and then back up to the patio, all proud of herself for getting her jobs done. She enjoyed a little game with her mommy where she would come out to the sofa as if to ask for a pet, and as soon as I would reach, she would tear back into the kitchen, only to come out again a few minutes later, smiling the whole time. Eventually she allowed herself to be caught and would have a kiss bestowed upon her forehead. Silvey would scratch in her crate at 4:00 a.m. each morning indicating that it was time for Daddy to get up. She also discovered the merits of using her food bowl as a pillow, and of course, lounged so daintily beside her food bowl as she ate. Throughout the day, she would walk by Max and precede to bat him on the nose with her front paw to engage him in some rough housing. It never failed to work, and this Princess could hold her own! She followed Rudy like a shadow out in the backyard, where they shared mutual tail wag, and Rudy protected her like the big brother he is.
Without warning, our routine was shattered on July 13, 2009. Silvey refused to eat and did not have the strength to stand on her own. We took her to our Vet, who kept her and immediately ran tests and administered mediations. We visited her several times a day, providing reassurances and encouragement. All the caregivers at the Vet's office commented how much Silvey perked up when we were with her. On Friday, July 17, 2009, we were somewhat encouraged by Silvey's demeanor, as she ate some of mommy's specially prepared chicken from our hands and drank a little water. The weather was perfect and we were able to take her outside for a couple of times. She peacefully stood in the grass and breathed in the nice fresh air. She allowed us to hold her, talk with her, and love on her before we took her back inside. At 5:30 p.m. that afternoon, as we were preparing to make a third visit and take her some more magic chicken, we received a phone call that Silvey had passed away suddenly due to cardiac failure. Our little Princess had remained fearless, brave, loyal, and loving to the very end.
For six wonderful years, Silvey touched our lives and she was a joy to have with us. We are deeply saddened by her departure, and miss her terribly. We are amazed at how a small dog could leave such an indelibly large paw print on our lives and carry such personality and exuberance for life. We are grateful that she is no longer in pain and waits for us at the Rainbow Bridge.
God bless you, Silvey. You have been the best little princess ever! We will forever remember you in our hearts and memories. We love you very much.
Daddy, Mommy, Max, and Rudy
Dear Faith,
It has been 2 years and we still think about and talk about you. Your angel holding your picture is still on our fireplace mantel and it brings us comfort because although we miss you, we know you are at the Bridge, free from all earthly suffering and waiting to see us again. We still feel you are close to us in spirit.
In your honor, we made a donation to your fund today so other souls can be helped just the way you were helped.
Faith, you are not forgotten--you never will be--and we love you and miss you!!
With much love from your forever family
Our Tribute to Jake Mitchell
Whoever would have thought that I would ride so proudly in a parade on a float all dressed up in my party collar? It was a little scary at first but what fun. And the sheltie after party, all I can say is WOW.
I learned to sit for treats and to go for nature walks. I loved it when people would stop and pet me and say how beautiful I was. Oh the petting, I’d get so lost in the petting and relax so completely that I'd fall off the couch. The grooming, brushing, and bathing felt so nice. I knew I was a mess when I came to you, I didn't know what to do
It is good here on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge. Some of my babies are here and they helped me cross! We had so little time together before. Now we have forever. Don't be sad my rescue friends. I will be watching for you. Keep up your good work with rescue and keep reminding people how important heartworm prevention is.
Phoebe came to rescue at 8 years of age from a puppy mill/auction situation on 4/25/10. She tested positive for heartworms, hookworms, and a yeast infection in her ears. Despite treatment she passed away due to complications from the infestation and surviving heartworms 8/6/10. Sadly missed by all who loved and cared for her.
In Memory of Phoebe
Once the arthritis meds kicked in, Travis felt so much better. He quickly became a fearless bunny hunter, always trying to coax the rabbits out from under my shed, and sitting at the back door awaiting his next opportunity.
A year later, while in for his annual shots, the vet ominously mentioned a lump in his right underarm. The poor old guy had so many lumps and bumps, that I had never noticed this one. I had it biopsied, and the pathology report came back as cancerous. My heart sank.
We sat on the couch that night after the news, I buried my tear filled face into his luxurious fur, praying for an answer as to how to proceed. Travis looked up at me through his dark eyes, as if to say "I feel good and choose quality over quantity". (Or maybe he was trying to tell me to quit blubbering and let him outside to chase the bunnies . . .)
Three months later, he lost control of his bowels, so I knew it was time to let Travis cross the Rainbow Bridge.
I have lost many dogs over the years, but letting Travis go was the hardest.
Travis, you left deep paw prints on my heart. I wish you happy bunny hunting at the Rainbow Bridge.
I miss you still.
Travis, Fearless Bunny Hunter