I give you this one to keep . . .
I am with you still . . .  I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not think of me as gone . . .
I am with you still . . . in each new dawn.





Smiling Blue Skies Angels

"Grieve not,
nor speak of me with tears,
but laugh and talk of me
as if I were beside you
I loved you so
'twas Heaven here with you."

Isla Paschal Richardson


Patricia Philpott

In loving memory of Patricia Philpott, who showed so many, that from the first ray of  sunlight, to the last moonbeam, each moment we have, should be filled with the pure joy of living. 

"Maggie Ginger Bear"

Maggie Ginger Bear

1990 - 2005

She was the soul of our hearts, and we will be forever grateful for each day of celebration she shared with us.

Dear, sweet Maggie
Maggie
 
August 2003 to July 15, 2005
 
Maggie came into Great Dane Rescue on May 29th, 2005. Rescue was told that Maggie had broken her leg and her owners, unable to fix it, had tried to let it heal on its own, but her leg became swollen and painful, and Great Dane Rescue hoped to find out what was wrong, how to fix it, and set Maggie on her way to a happy, pain free life. When Rescue met Maggie, they were shocked. She was extremely underweight, had a horrible coat, and her leg was swollen three times the size of her other leg, and was hot to the touch. Maggie often hopped, to avoid putting any weight on her sore leg. Simply watching her was painful. In Foster Care, Maggie learned all about good food, lots of love, and comfortable beds, and she also loved to play with her foster sister, Jaz. Maggie began to put on weight and become comfortable being a part of a loving family. When Great Dane Rescue Inc. heard of the success of their most recent Rescue Me Walk, they were were delighted, because they knew they could now afford to fix Maggies leg. They could afford the x-rays and the surgery and whatever else was needed to help this beautiful, young girl. Great Dane Rescue's fantastic vet, looked at the x-rays from Maggies former vet and took some new ones. Maggie had an immense swelling of the soft tissue that was not healing as well as the bone beneath. On a quest for more answers, Maggie was sent to an orthopaedic specialist. Here it was suggested that Maggie have a bone and soft tissue biopsy to determine what was causing all this pain and swelling. Thanks to the Rescue Me Walkathon, we were able to do this and Maggie went in for her biopsy. After the biopsy, Maggie quickly developed a horrible case of demodectic mange. Within a period of two days, Maggies head was bald. Her coat fell out in clumps, and sores and blisters started to form all over her body. When the blisters broke, blood erupted all over Maggies hot, inflamed skin. Every scratch was agony. It was obvious, that her immune system was shutting down. It was then that the biopsy results returned and the news we had been fearing since the first day we met Maggie became reality. Maggie had bone cancer, a cancer that was ravaging her immune system, leaving her unable to cope with the mange or the cancer treatment. It was then decided it would be best to free Maggie of her itchy, painful body and Maggie was humanely euthanized. Maggie was one and a half years old.
 
Dear, sweet Maggie, we hope you are playing freely now, running on all four legs, with a thick, full coat that never itches. Thank you Rescue Me Walkathon for allowing us to give Maggie every chance possible, and thank you Donna and Bob Petrie for being exceptional foster parents and giving Maggie a few months of the love and devotion she should have known all along.
 
Lyndsey


"Kayllah"


In loving memory of Kayllah, who was my gardening angel, even in the snow.

"Liam"

IIn loving memory of our Liam, who meant so much to so many, and will remain in our hearts forever.  Be at peace sweet boy, until me meet again.

We will always love you.
Sean and Beth

"Jessie", forever loved by Heather and Mark Kearns

"Treat me kindly my beloved friend, for no heart in the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me. Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me learn. Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ears. Please take me inside when it is cold and wet for I am a domesticated animal, no longer accustomed to bitter elements. I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should you be in danger. And, my friend, when I am very old, and no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not having any fun. Please see that my trusting life is taken gently. I shall leave this earth knowing with the last breath I draw that my fate was always safest in your hands."
 

In loving memory and in celebration of the life of Pam's "Trooper"

"You Had Me At The Paw"

"Once someone has had the good fortune to share a true love affair with a golden retriever,

One's life and one's outlook is never quite the same again."

--Betty White

Shortly after Trooper arrived to live out his days here in my home, my roommate Christal sat in front of his huge wire crate.   She looked at me and said "Pam, I just haven't bonded with him."

Christal had become my roommate shortly before I took in Chipper in 2003.  Chipper was a sweet little 5 year old golden with a mast cell tumor that eventually metastisized, and in May of that year, I had to send him to the Rainbow Bridge.   His passing affected both of us deeply. And though Trooper looked nothing like Chipper, the comparisons were inevitable.

 

Just then....Trooper sat up in his crate, lifted one of his huge "salmon snatching" paws, put it against the crate door and stared at her with his beautiful soulful eyes.   I saw a tear fall down her cheek and heard her say..."Okay, okay. You had me at the paw."

I didn't want to get attached.  When Jill and my other golden-loving friends alerted me to Trooper's plight, I didn't think twice.  I wanted Trooper to be able to live out his days here in my home knowing that he was cared for and safe...but I didn't want to get attached.  Obviously, he had other plans.   And in true Trooper fashion, he made no bones about it.   He would steal my heart.? Many times I said that Chipper opened the door to my caring for terminally ill goldens. Well....Trooper burst through that same door with a love and zest for life like no other.   And one of the many lessons he taught was that I could love again...that I would love again...over and over and over.   And he showed me that even after he had crossed over to the Rainbow Bridge, that I would somehow work through my grief and do my best to help another special needs goldens. And I will. Chipper's Haven-A Safe Haven for Special Needs Golden Retrievers will become a reality.

When Trooper began chemotherapy treatments at Florida Veterinary Specialists in Tampa, he wormed his way into everyone's heart there as well.  He would walk in the back, with Hamilton (his favorite blue teddy bear) in his mouth...tail wagging, those mischevious eyes flashing.  I was told that in the treatment area that once he stopped goofing around and pawing everyone with those huge feet, that he was as docile as a lamb.  Once he knew that I was back in the building, however, he would change.  Suddenly, he become my protector...my hero.  Determined to save me from any harm.

 
It still floors me when I think of how so many people banded together to help Trooper, not only financially but emotionally and spiritually.   People from all walks of life.   People who, out on the street, probably wouldn't have much in common but they found a common thread in trying to help this beautiful golden soul.  I loved reading cards sent to him....one lady in particular said that he inspired her and made her want to be a better person.   What a legacy Trooper leaves us.  He lived more in 10 months than most of us will live in our entire lifetimes.

 

Trooper didn't lose his battle with cancer.  Trooper didn't lose anything.   His work here on earth simply was done, and it was time for him to reunited with my beloved Maggie and Chipper at the Rainbow Bridge, where he could relentlessly chase squirrels and play with endless rubber chickens, as he did here on earth.   Gracie, my 8 year old golden, misses him so much. But I know that she sees him.   She has serious vision problems....but I know she sees him.   And I know her heart senses him.   She worshipped the ground he walked on.

Godspeed, my handsome boy....my "hammerhead", my "goofy guy".  This separation is temporary.   I can't wait to snuggle up next to you again and feel your fur against my cheek.   How I miss that.

And Trooper....thank you for the most valuable lesson of all:

"It's not the destination......it's the journey."

 
And what a journey it was.
 
I love you,
Mommy Pam xoxoxo

"Maggie" The One...

"Hello, Maggie" I whispered to the 9 week old puppy that I held in my arms at one of the local pet stores.I had always wanted a golden retriever. I had the already chosen her name..."Steel Magnolia", in honor and memory of my mother, who was the quintessential proud southern woman. "Maggie" for short.  I didn't know 14 years ago that you didn't buy puppies at a pet stores. I didn't know about backyard breeders...about puppy mills....about health clearances. I was uneducated and heartbroken after having just lost my mother to cancer...but my total ignorance blessed me with nearly 14 years of sheer bliss with the most wonderful golden retriever who was ever born.

Maggie never knew a stranger...in her beautiful vision of life, they were simply friends she hadn't met yet. She embraced everyone and everything...dogs, cats, people, squirrels. Yes, even squirrels. (Hear that, Trooper?)  Maggie went through so many life changes with me. She helped me grow and was my constant companion...my best friend....my soul mate. In her later years, people often remarked that they didn't recognize me without my Maggie glued to my side. The standing joke also got to be that I was simply the chauffeur "Driving Miss Maggie". She loved going for rides in the car, and would sit up straight like the proper southern lady that she was. That's my girl.

When spondylosis threatened to debilitate her at age 11, we learned of alternative therapies. Suddenly, I discovered what gave her the greatest joy....swimming and diving.  And her finest moment came when she graced the cover of Animal Wellness Magazine in Spring 2004. Never had she looked more beautiful.  I was so proud of her.  I still am.  My leaping pupperfish....my flying Maggie. She was poetry in motion and the absolute joy on her face still makes me smile.

I could never have dreamt that I would be faced with the gut wrenching decision of having to let her join Chipper at the Rainbow Bridge because of bloat.  God knows I did everything in my power to try to prevent it. She was supposed to cross over in her sleep at the ripe old age of 150.  That's what I wanted for her. But in retrospect, as crazy as it sounds, I think Maggie did it her way.  In my heart, I believe she chose to go ahead so that she could team up with Chipper and be there to greet Trooper a mere 5 weeks later. That was my Maggie...that is my Maggie. Mother hen to all.
Maggie was so loved, but that comes as no surprise. She was easy to love.  She was the goodwill ambassador for golden retrievers. She accepted all the golden fosters I brought into my home in a gentle and loving way.  Her lovely easy-going temperament worked wonders on Gracie. She acted, in a sense, as Gracie's mentor.  Just today I watched Gracie out in the backyard....she seems to have taken on some of Maggie's softness.
Maggie, my beautiful girl....how do I find the words to thank you for changing my life?  For being such a patient teacher.  I knew nothing when you came into my life, but oh honey....the lessons you taught me.  You were perfection.  You were, and always will be....The One.
I love you, my puppy girl....and I can't wait to hold your sweet face in my hands on the Other Side.  And I hope they have nice cars at the Bridge, too, because once I again, I will be your driver...and I will once again delight in Driving Miss Maggie.
 
Love,
Mommy Pam xoxoxo

"Woody"

In loving memory of Bruce and Denise's "Woody" . . . Special friend to Quin.

Donamor Windrush Meadows

"Meadow"

    June 15, 1996 - June 22, 2005

    A love Like No Other!

 

    With all our love & gratitude,

    The McCallum Family

    Tanja, Paul, Mackenzie & Kaitlin 

It was the way you made us feel when we got the call to say you had been born. It was the way we knew that you were “the one”. It was the way we were almost sent home with someone else – if it weren’t for the spot on your tongue.  It was the way you loved us and became the heart of our home.

 It was the way your smiling eyes greeted us through the glass in the front door. It was the way you gently guided our hands to your belly with your paw. It was the way you’d happily snatch a cookie from our hands – and yet tenderly take a treat from the children as if their fingers where butterfly wings.  It was the way you loved us.

It was the way you knew that dinnertime was at 4:30 and your nightly walk was at 7. It was the way you knew that Mommy would be your protector during a storm.  It was even the way that your hair managed to get into every crevice, every closet, every cupboard in the house.

 It was the way you put yourself between the baby stroller and a stranger, the way you loved everyone you met – immediately, the way you alerted us to someone at the door, but never barked otherwise. It was the way you befriended the cats.  It was the way you loved us.

 It was the way you tried to “save” us when we went for a swim.  It was the way you always made sure to be on the same floor of the house that we were on – and if one of us was upstairs and one of us was downstairs – it was the way you stayed on the middle floor to be as close to each of us as you could.   It was the way you followed us to bed each night.  It was even the way you stealthily stole food off of the kitchen counter. 

 It was the way you left hair on my black suits, my black skirts, my black tops – why did I love black?   It was the way you knew to stay off of the good furniture without being told.  It was the way you chewed your toys and yet, never touched one of the children’s toys.  It was the way you were always so happy to go to the vets. It was the way you loved us. 

 It was the way you pranced when you walked.  It was the way you knew we were packing for the cottage.  It was the way you’d have a nightmare and I’d have to wake you up.  It was the way you allowed other dogs into your home without a fuss.  It was the way you cleaned up every morsel dropped from a highchair onto the kitchen floor.  It was even the way you left goober on my back seat. 

 It was the way your hair got caught in Daddy’s whiskers.  It was the way you made Grandpa feel like a boy again (when he didn’t know we were looking).  It was the way you knew we were getting closer to the lake, even if we took a different route.  It was the way you loved us.

 It was the way visitors left wearing a little piece of you on their bottoms.  It was the way you stole shoes from the front hall and then galloped happily – always giving away your secret.  It was the way you danced when we danced.  It was the way you were our “first born”, and then welcomed Mackenzie and happily shared your room.  It was the way you sniffed the girls’ faces when they were babies – just to be sure they were okay.  It was even the way you killed the grass in burned, yellow, circular patterns.

 It was the way you were so utterly, 100% trustworthy. It was the way you wanted to go absolutely everywhere we went.  It was the way you held your teddy.  It was the way you’d forgo sleeping on a nice cool tile floor on a hot summer night, to be near us at the foot of the bed. It was the way you loved us.

 It was the way you’d glue yourself to my hip at the first clap of thunder. It was the way you’d “swim” on the family room carpet.  It was the way you could pick the peas out of your meal. It was the way you took your medicine without a fuss. It was the way you were so tolerant of misbehaving pups.  It was the way you loved us.

 It was the way you didn’t want to be alone during fireworks.  It was the way your lovely face turned white. It was even the way, given the chance - that you’d swim after the boat if Daddy was in it. It was the way you loved us. 

 It was the way you let the girls climb on you and hug you.  It was the way you’d cherish a teddy forever – and then one day, without warning, rip it to shreds. It was the way you never slept on a single “dog bead” that we bought for you. It was the way you didn’t even wince when you got your yearly shots. It was the way you’d get riled up after your bath or a brushing and then look for a dirt pile to roll in.  It was even the way you’d steal a little nibble of the girls’ cookies when they turned their head. 

 It was the way you’d sleep on every blanket of ours that you could find. It was the way you’d stand, silently, when you and Daddy came across a deer while on your walks.  It was the way you let Cricket sniff your ears.  It was the odd way that you didn’t like going out onto the back deck.  It was the way you loved to swim.  It was the way you’d sleep on your back. It was the way you loved us. 

 It was the way you knew when we were sick. It was the way you were the best St. John’s Ambulance Therapy Dog ever!  It was the way you brought a smile to every person in the Alzheimer’s ward.  It was the way you gently stole the Kleenex from the sleeves of little old ladies, without them knowing it.   It was the way you walked tenderly when a baby was on the floor.  It was even the way you never chewed our shoes – but one day chewed Shauna’s only pair of shoes while she was visiting from Calgary. 

 It was the way you’d pose for pictures – ever the Lady! It was the way you could never get enough loving. It was the way that you were Daddy’s best friend, Kenzie’s best friend, Kaitlin’s best friend, My best friend.  It was the way you were 80 pounds of glorious Golden presence in the house.  It was the way you always submitted to another dogs’ aggression to avoid a fight.  It was the way you stayed healthy.  It was the way you were the perfect weight, had perfect hips, a beautiful coat and great teeth.  It was the way you loved us.

It was the way you were always happy and strong – never alerting us to the cancer within.  It was the way you endured each and every test, every poke, every x-ray. It was the way you looked at us and urged us not to count you out “just yet”.   It was the way you gladly let us change your diet.  It was the way you eagerly took your supplements and herbal remedies.  It was the way you still wanted your nightly walks.  It was the way you slowed down at night to conserve your energy.  It was the way you fought it to the end.  It was the way you loved us.

 It was the way you told us that it was time.  It was the way your eyes said, “Let me go now – remember your promise”.  It was the way you lay in our arms as we held you tight.  It was the way you were relieved to see Dr. Dan arrive in the yard.  It was the way you slipped away peacefully. 

 It was the way you took our hearts with you.  It was the way we felt your loss.  It was the way it hurt worse than anything we had felt before. It was the way we thought we’d never get over you being gone.

 It was the way you sent us messages.  It was the way you told us that you were still with us.

 It is the way we feel your presence.  It is the way your spirit shares our home.  It is the way that you are helping our hearts to heal.  It is the way you love us still.

 It was your way.

 

Thank you for showing me The Way!

Love always,

Mommy
 


In memory of a very special friend

Abby

She left us to cross the rainbow bridge 7.7.2005.

She came to us at the age of 9 months after a very hard start in life.During our 5 years with us she proved to be a great segregate mother to our Goldens. She is sadly missed by her humans, Peter and Jacqui , and her Golden family of Jasper, Conan & Genie.? May there be tennis balls for her to chase forever.

We all miss you Abby.
 


Dear, sweet Maggie
Maggie
 
August 2003 to July 15, 2005
 
Maggie came into Great Dane Rescue on May 29th, 2005. Rescue was told that Maggie had broken her leg and her owners, unable to fix it, had tried to let it heal on its own, but her leg became swollen and painful, and Great Dane Rescue hoped to find out what was wrong, how to fix it, and set Maggie on her way to a happy, pain free life. When Rescue met Maggie, they were shocked. She was extremely underweight, had a horrible coat, and her leg was swollen three times the size of her other leg, and was hot to the touch. Maggie often hopped, to avoid putting any weight on her sore leg. Simply watching her was painful. In Foster Care, Maggie learned all about good food, lots of love, and comfortable beds, and she also loved to play with her foster sister, Jaz. Maggie began to put on weight and become comfortable being a part of a loving family. When Great Dane Rescue Inc. heard of the success of their most recent Rescue Me Walk, they were were delighted, because they knew they could now afford to fix Maggies leg. They could afford the x-rays and the surgery and whatever else was needed to help this beautiful, young girl. Great Dane Rescue's fantastic vet, looked at the x-rays from Maggies former vet and took some new ones. Maggie had an immense swelling of the soft tissue that was not healing as well as the bone beneath. On a quest for more answers, Maggie was sent to an orthopaedic specialist. Here it was suggested that Maggie have a bone and soft tissue biopsy to determine what was causing all this pain and swelling. Thanks to the Rescue Me Walkathon, we were able to do this and Maggie went in for her biopsy. After the biopsy, Maggie quickly developed a horrible case of demodectic mange. Within a period of two days, Maggies head was bald. Her coat fell out in clumps, and sores and blisters started to form all over her body. When the blisters broke, blood erupted all over Maggies hot, inflamed skin. Every scratch was agony. It was obvious, that her immune system was shutting down. It was then that the biopsy results returned and the news we had been fearing since the first day we met Maggie became reality. Maggie had bone cancer, a cancer that was ravaging her immune system, leaving her unable to cope with the mange or the cancer treatment. It was then decided it would be best to free Maggie of her itchy, painful body and Maggie was humanely euthanized. Maggie was one and a half years old.
 
Dear, sweet Maggie, we hope you are playing freely now, running on all four legs, with a thick, full coat that never itches. Thank you Rescue Me Walkathon for allowing us to give Maggie every chance possible, and thank you Donna and Bob Petrie for being exceptional foster parents and giving Maggie a few months of the love and devotion she should have known all along.
 
Lyndsey


 

In Memory of Our Boy, Elmo
Elmo
 
He was not only our Best Friend, but always our Faithful Companion. You will always be in our hearts and never forgotten.
 
Love David, Lesley & Denise xoxo


 

In Loving Memory of Spencer

Spencer
 
We love you and we miss you, Spencer. You were an awesome Corgi!
 
Love, Dwight, Ramona, Matthew, Andrew, Grandma, and Grandpa.


 

In loving memory of Tyler
Tyler
 
June 6, 2005
 
Missed by Claudia and Steve


Sapphire


Our beloved little gem: Sapphire (Mar. 27, 2004 - July 21, 2005).

Her vocal greetings and nibbling of our ears will be truly missed.


 

Teddy


In loving memory of Goldrush Charlie's L'll Bear, my very special Teddy, always remembered and missed by Marnie.

  Teddy was born Goldrush Charlie's L'il Bear on Sept. 13, 1995. He died ~ 12:30 a.m. July 26, 2005, just short of his 10th birthday. I called him my Baby Boo.We did not find Teddy. He found us. We weren't looking for a dog although we wanted one. I got a call from my cousin at 7:30 in the morning giving me the phone number for a Golden Retriever free to a good home. I called right away and set out about 10. It was January 7, a beautiful cold, sunny winter day. I didn't think my husband would want to go so I had planned a little solo adventure but at the last minute he decided to come along. When we arrived, the place was full of jumping, barking golden retrievers in full winter coat. The breeder opened a chain link gate to one of the outdoor kennels and out burst a huge, copper gold retriever with the prettiest face and the biggest feet I have ever seen. The first thing that struck me was how beautiful his face was; the second how bright with some kind of hurt his big round eyes were; the third, how big he was! And he was all over the place, leaping, barking, jumping, everybody barking like crazy, except us of course. We just stood there watching this beautiful creature cavort in the sunny snow. My husband took one look at him and said, "I don't want that dog, he's too hyper" and I said "too bad, I"m taking him." I walked him away from the crowd to see what would happen if he was away from all that ruckus and sure enough, as soon as we got a short distance away from it all he calmed down, sat and let me pet him. I said, "I"m taking him and that 's that." We went back to the office and got the instructions and ointment for his eyes. I opened the rear door of the car and Teddy jumped in without even being asked to. I got in behind him, sat down, he put his head on my lap and never looked back. From that moment on it was pure bliss, every second of every day of every year that we had him. Within 24 hours, that big bright hurt look in his eyes had disappeared. He busily explored the house and yard, followed us into the bedroom that first night and lay down beside me on the floor by the bed. In the morning I awoke to a quiet moosh face in mine, tail wagging, patiently standing there. Never a whimper or a cry did he make during his first night in this strange new place. Every morning for the next glorious 5 years, I awoke to that beautiful face first thing in the morning, and sometimes during the night I would wake to feel his paw, asking for a little extra love, or on rare occasions, an extra trip to go potty. The second day he was with us, I took him for a ride in the car to show him to some of my friends. He got out of the car with me, went inside and when we left hopped back in. The next stop=different story. He refused to get up. He refused to get out. Everyone came out to greet him with toys, balls, treats, hugs and kisses. Nothing. He hunkered down and ignored the treats, toys and hugs. And he stayed that way...until we got within 4 miles of the house. [Incidentally, we came home a completely different route than we had gone]. Suddenly he sat up, sniffed and looked out the window [it was dark of a January night]. He perked up and remained that way for the rest of his life. Somehow, he knew we were going back home. I really believe that he was afraid I was going to dump him off at another place. In the months to come, he became well acclimated to our friends' place, with lots of dogs, kitties, land to run and chase the ball and plenty of stinky dead animals to roll in. He would always be excited to get there and when we did have to leave him with them for a few days to attend my mother in law's funeral in Missouri, by that time it was his second home and he knew we would come back for him. I would be sitting at my desk or someplace and he would come up to me and stare soulfully into my eyes. I thought he wanted hugs so I would pet him and hug him and tell him good boy. He kept doing this until one day it dawned on us that he didn't want extra love, HE HAD TO GO POTTY!! Oh how we laughed at ourselves, silly egotistical humans, thinking the doggie wanted love when he was desperately if dignifiedly trying to tell us he HAD TO GO OUT! lol That dear darling boy never had an accident in the house all the years we were together. So patient was he, trying to train these human imbeciles...how loving, patient and forgiving. In the beginning, he would also go up to my husband, sit in front of him, pant and stare at him. My husband kept saying, what is wrong with this dog, what does he want?! [His potty plea was slightly different] I said that he wanted to know what his responsibilites were in this new environment. I had made it clear to him what I wanted from him but my husband had not and he was trying to learn what was expected of him. AT one point my husband siad, "I dont like this dog. He makes me nervous" I said, "too bad, he's staying, you can leave if you want" and I meant it! My husband fell so madly in love with our Teddy that it was miraculous. I always used tease him and throw it up in his face that he had said those things and we'd laugh about it. The night Teddy died, my husband was as inconsolable as I was and when we buried him the next morning at 5 a.m. the two of us collapsed on him, wrapped in his white boiled wool blanket, sobbing our hearts out. We just could not bear to put dirt on him. It took the grace of God, I think, just to get the strength to do what we knew we had to do. It is at times like these that we learn,i think, that we are not alone, that something greater than ourselves is stepping in for us where we cannot go further. It reminds me of the "Footprints" poem. Teddy was our custodian. He carried us when we could not carry ourselves.

Don't Grieve Too Long

Don't grieve too long for now I'm free
I've followed the path God set for me
I ran to him when I heard his call
I wagged my tail and left it all.

I could not stay another day
to bark, to love, to romp or play
games left unplayed must stay that way
I found such peace it made my day.

My parting has left you with a void,
so fill it with remembered joy
A friendship shared, your laugh, a kiss
Oh yes, these things I too shall miss.

Be not burdened with times of sorrow
I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow
My life's been full, you've given so much
your time, your love and gentle touch.

Perhaps my time seemed all to brief
don't lengthen it now with undue grief
Lift up your ear and share with me
God wanted me. He set me free.

~ Author Unknown ~

b

 


Cognac

We Have A Secret

We have a secret, you and I
that no one else shall know,
for who but I can see you lie
each night in the fire glow?

And who but I can reach my hand
before we go to bed
and feel the living warmth of you
and touch your silken head?

And only I walk woodland paths
and see ahead of me,
your small form racing with the wind
so young again and free.

And only I can see you swim
in every brook I pass
and when I call, no one but I
can see the bending grass

My dearest Cognac - My forever dog
April 1992 - December 2004


May our journey never end
You will always be in my heart and the shadow at my side.
 

 


 Higgins


 

In loving memory of Higgins,

from Terry and Verne.

 


 Roc'C


 
In loving memory of Dave, Melinda, Chase, and Bryce's very special Roc'C. She was Melinda's protector, and best friend to all. She always showed courage and determination, even in the face of her battle with cancer. She was loyal, and her love, unconditional. She won Dave and Melinda's hearts as a puppy, and their admiration, as she matured. She was loved by everyone who had the privilege to meet her. Her spirit will always live on in the Stanley's hearts, and Roc'C will forever be a shadow at Melinda's side.

Please visit Roc'C's personal web site, at www.rememberingrocc.com

 


 Blossom


 

In loving memory of Betty's "Blossom"

  June 25, 1993 to October 25, 2005

  My Blossom was such a wonderful girl. She wasn't interested in obedience classes for the classes; she wanted to romp and play with the puppies. She even took care of my other girls' puppies, cleaning them with her big soft tongue, and letting them nurse on her to the point that they stimulated milk in her, and she would nurse them right out the door on their way to their new homes, right along with their natural mother. She was the epitome of motherly love. She let my 20 month granddaughter Natalie sit on her whenever she wanted, never objecting to her. She would bring dead mice with broken necks in, and place them on the floorbeside Dave's side of the bed; she wanted him to fix it. She found a bird with a broken wing, a Bluejay, and let us know where it was, and then proceeded to lick the wing. She was a gentle soul. She was a clown too. Every once in awhile, she would saunter down to the neighbours' property to check things out, to see what was going on. When we discovered she was gone, we would call her and she would try to run back homewith a big smile on her face. She was a friend to all our dogs. And when Molly had Ivy's litter late in life, and we kept Ivy, it gave renewed life to Blossie and Molly. She took just as good care of Ivy as Molly did. And she would wrestle daily with Ivy, even as recent as a couple of weeks ago. She will be terribly missed. I would try to give my girls one on one time with me, but Blossom seemed happiest when another dog was with her. She loved me very much, but she didn't want to be the 'only dog'. She was very protective of me, even letting me know when I did too much work. She was with me when I gardened, and would nudge me if she thought I did too much. One time, she knocked me over, pulled an Iris out of the hole I placed it in, and then pointed . . . I didn't even know she could do that . . . and she pointed to a patch of poison ivy . . . I didn't know she knew anything about that either! She was a one in a million dog. She took my heart with her.

"I Only Wanted You"
They say memories are golden
well maybe that is true.
I never wanted memories,
I only wanted you.

A million times I needed you,
a million times I cried.
If love alone could have saved you
you never would have died.

In life I loved you dearly,
In death I love you still.
In my heart you hold a place
no one could ever fill.

If tears could build a stairway
and heartache make a lane,
I'd walk the path to heaven
and bring you back again.

Our family chain is broken,
and nothing seems the same.
But as God calls us one by one,
the chain will link again.



Author Unknown

 


 Maizie


 

This is Maizie.


  She was 6 when we lost her to hemangiosarcoma. She was a rescue and was the most gentle of souls. The day we brought her home, she was the first one in the house, and by the time we got in she had found the box of dog toys and was back greeting us at the door, with a stuffed purple turnip in her mouth, as if to say, "what took you so long." When she was happy her whole back end would wag with her tail and she would jump around in delight. She was always happy. She loved everybody and everything and just wanted to be loved. And that she was. She will forever be missed.

Karen, Beverly Hills, Michigan.
 


 

 Ben


 

In Loving Memory of "Ben"

 

They will not go quietly,
the dogs who've shared our lives.
In subtle ways they let us know
their spirit still survives.
Old habits still make us think
we hear a barking at the door.
Or step back when we drop
a tasty morsel on the floor.
Our feet still go around the place
the food dish used to be,
And, sometimes, coming home at night,
we miss them terribly.
And although time may bring new friends
and a new food dish to fill,
That one place in our hearts
belongs to them....
and always will.

Author Unknown


  Spring 1990 - October 13, 2005

  Our beautiful boy Ben left us this morning after a long and painful bout with what was probably a pancreatic tumor. He was about 15 1/2 years old. He came to us in January 2003 -- an elderly woman had owned and loved him since he was 8 weeks old, but she surrendered him to Rescue when she could no longer care for herself and had to go into a convalescent facility. It was extremely difficult for her to give him up, but she did the right thing in contacting RAGofAZ. We were Ben's foster family until April 2003.I took him to many events large and small, trying to find "the right" family for him, but he knew all along that he belonged with us -- it just took us awhile to realize it. We had 3 other dogs at the time, and my husband made me agree that in order to keep Ben we notfoster any more as long as we had four. Ben wassuch a special boy that I agreed without hesitation, and we were without any fosters Don't Grieve Too Long Don't grieve too long for now I'm free I've followed the path God set for me I ran to him when I heard his call I wagged my tail and left it all. I could not stay another day to bark, to love, to romp or play games left unplayed must stay that way I found such peace it made my day. My parting has left you with a void, so fill it with remembered joy A friendship shared, your laugh, a kiss Oh yes, these things I too shall miss. Be not burdened with times of sorrow I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow My life's been full, you've given so much your time, your love and gentle touch. Perhaps my time seemed all to brief don't lengthen it now with undue grief Lift up your ear and share with me God wanted me. He set me free. ~ Author Unknown ~ until Kokomo died in April of 2004. During his time with us, Ben was the quintessential Golden. He had a warm and loving personality, tolerant of anything, content to just be by your side or your feet, never pushy, always smiling and wagging his tail. During the last 2 1/2 years, Ben walked in9 parades and attended well over 50 events with me as a RAGofAZ Ambassadog. He was the best walking advertisement for the organization we could ever hope for. At age 15, he earned his CGC and TDI certifications, passing the tests by responding to my hand signals -- he was deaf by then. Among our proudest moments were when he participated in the National Parade of Rescue at the Golden Retriever Club of America's National Specialties in Cleveland (2003) and Malibu (2004). He was the oldest participant in both parades.

Now he has joined his many friends at the Rainbow Bridge. We celebrate his life and hope you will, too.

Deb
 


 Willie


 

In loving memory of Mike and Pat's "Willie"


 Hudson


 

In Loving Memory of "Hudson"

This foster was so special, from the first time he walked in the door. Don't ask me why; I couldn't tell you. He was my soul mate. For some reason, I couldn't let him go. We decided to officially adopt him the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Then, Thanksgiving Day was when he was first taken ill. He was diagnosed with a mass on his heart. We had another week with him where he was living life to the full, then sadly he left us Monday, December 5th. He was not alone; we held him as he passed his last breath. I whispered that he was ours forever. I believe he understood.

from Lynn Briggs and Family


Crissy


 

In Loving Memory of "Crissy"

In loving memory of my Crissy Here is my baby girl. We got Crissy when she was 5 weeks old, a bit too early, but maybe that is why she always thought she was a person. I remember she just fit in my hand, and when she grew up, her head could not even fit, but she always thought she was a lap dog. Crissy was our little star, taken way too early. Crissy passed in her mom's arms, just before Christmas 2005, after a year long battle with cancer in her throat, at the young age of 10. I will always remember her wet ears after drinking water and her smile that always melted your heart. I will miss you my angel, and I don't know what I would have done without you. Sweet dreams little one . . . Shannon.


Rainey


 

In loving memory of Ellen's "Rainey"

HR. Morninglo Rainbows End CD SH MX MXJ

I will never forget you . . . you are the man.


Dudley


 

In loving memory of  "Dudley"

July 17, 2000 - December 23, 2005


Sammy

MEMORIAL TO SAMMY

In loving memory of Sammy Denreyer - November 14, 1998 - October 5, 2005

My husband and I adopted Sammy (a cross Shepherd/Lab) in June, 2001 from a friend at work who said “Sammy was too big for the house”.  Both my husband and I fell in love with that “silly Sammy” face as soon as we met him, so Sammy, at the age of 2 1/2, came to his new home to be a baby brother to Rags, our 10-year old cocker spaniel.

Sammy was a devoted companion to us from that day forward.  Sammy was our protector, our friend, our constant companion . . . our “son”.

Sammy loved to chase the chipmunks and squirrels and refused to back down when he encountered a porcupine while out for a walk on the farm.  Unfortunately, the porcupine got the better of Sammy and Sammy received a face full of quills.

Sammy never needed expensive toys; he was happy with his stainless steel mixing bowl which he would constantly bark at while he was either sliding on it in the snow or digging holes in the grass while dragging it or dropping it right in front of the lawnmover  while I was cutting the grass so I could throw it for him.  My sweet Sammy, the hole you dug with the bowl is still there by the lilac tree and always will be.

Although Sammy suffered from allergies most of his adult life, he was always a trooper and would take his medication as long it was hidden in some food product.  We tried so many medications and diets to try to pinpoint his allergies, but never came up with a definitive diagnosis.  Sorry Schmamms!

Sammy would love to go for walks and no walk was too long or too short as long as he was with us.  Sammy could spend hours outside with you as long as you were prepared to throw his ball, his bowl or the frisbee never tiring of running off the deck onto the grass to get the toys.

Although we know Sammy was no angel and could find himself in mischief, it didn’t matter; it just added to the charm of his character which made him our Sammy.

Unfortunately, on October 4, 2005, there was something in his eyes which told us that he just wasn’t himself.  For the very first time in his life with us, he didn’t jump off the sofa and run to the back door when he saw Daddy’s car come up the driveway.  So, I took Sammy to the vet who initially thought Sammy had pancreatitis.  After a night in the hospital and several tests and an ultrasound, Dr. Pugh called us that evening to say that Sammy’s spleen needed to be removed in the morning as there were growths on it.  Instead, what Dr. Pugh found while Sammy was in surgery was that our sweet Sammy had bleeding tumors on his vital organs.  Dr. Pugh called us to say that Sammy had hemangiosarcoma and was given 2 days - 1 week to live.  It was at that time that we helped Sammy to the Rainbow Bridge.  October 5, 2005 will always be an extremely sad and tearful day for us.

Taken from us too soon and too suddenly, you took a piece of our hearts with you when you left us.  The hurt and loss we feel is worst than anything we have ever felt before.

There is still so much we miss about our Sammy; such as snuggling with all 110 pounds of him, his big head pushing on one of our hands so he could be petted, those Scooby Doo ears, fur all over the house or watching him as he patiently sat on the sofa looking out the window waiting for Daddy to come home.  Sammy was always such a happy dog who was so eager to please us.

We feel your presence in the house to this day and feel your spirit getting through to “Harley”, one of our recent rescue dogs.  Only Sammy would tell Harley (a cross Shepherd/Husky) to play with the grey recycle box because it would be fun to drag it around the back yard and bark at it.  It could only be Sammy telling Harley to take his old metal bowl and start barking at it, and it could only be Sammy telling Harley to sit on the sofa in front of the living room window with his head perched on the top looking out the window while he waits for Daddy to come home just like Sammy would do.

We feel very privileged to have had Sammy in our life and learned that adopting a dog (whether it be from a friend (like Sammy was), a “free to a good home” ad (like Rags was), or the humane society (as Luke and Harley are)) can be one of life’s greatest rewards.

Sammy, go run around and play with Rags; be pain-free my sweet Sammy, with no more scratching and rubbing your face on the carpet because the itch was unbearable and daily medication because of the allergies or the pain you felt as that horrible cancer spread through you.

Mommy and Daddy love you, always and forever.  You were our special “Schmammy-head”, you “big galoot”.

REQUEST FROM THE RAINBOW BRIDGE (By:  Constance Jenkins)

Weep not for me though I am gone
Into that gentle night.
Grieve if you will, but not for long
Upon my soul's sweet flight.
I am at peace, my soul's at rest
There is no need for tears.
For with your love I was so blessed
For all those many years.
There is no pain, I suffer not,
The fear now all is gone.
Put now these things out of your thoughts,
In your memory I live on.
Remember not my fight for breath
Remember not the strife.
Please do not dwell upon my death,
But celebrate my life.

 

Sammy Denreyer
November 14, 1998 - October 5, 2005


Nikki


 

In loving memory of the Saks' Family's "Nikki"

Nikki (Farm Fresh Cornicopia) 1992-2005

Nikki was a much loved Golden who was a the wonderful pet of The Saks Family for 13 years. After his first 3 years with us, his Greyhound "sister", Polka, arrived and 4 other greyhounds over the years as well. Nikki taught Polka how to be a pet. Learning to climb steps was terrifying for Polka. Nikki sensed this and ran up the steps past her to turn around to lick her face as we helped her climb. His sensitivity and love showed in everything he did. He stayed the omega in the pack, never minding the position, but truly became a greyhound wannabe. He loved to take walks with his "brother and sisters". Polka remained his favorite and he was heartbroken when she went to the Bridge in 2005. He followed a couple of months later and we like to think that they are together again. He is greatly missed and always in our hearts.


 

"Emmo"

9/7/1996 - 2/6/2005

Beckwiths Zoomo Emmo Am./Can. CD, NA, NAJ, CGC (1CDX leg, 1NAP leg)

9/7/1996 - 2/6/2005 A week after Emmo's passing, the hole in my heart is rapidly filling with warm memories. Please indulge me as i share on e of my favourites. Lynden WA (Chuckanut Trial), competing in OPEN, I throw the dumbbell over the high jump...lousy throw...I'm notorious for my lousy throws, but I had the added disadvantage of a partially torn rotator cuff ( thanks to Emmo's little brother "Briggs".) Emmo wais at my side fo rmy command to "take it". Judge walks out an d brings the dumbbell back to me. Emmo looks up at me as it to say "Why did SHE get it?" I throw it again, slamming it into the front of the high jump. Judge walks out and brings it back to me. I throw it again, this time it goes straight up and lands almost at my feet. Emmo looks at me and I swear he ROLLS his eyes! Judge walks over, picks it up, and hands it to me. The "tittering" of the peanut gallery has now drawn a crowd of onlookers. I don't know which is drawing more laughter, my throws or Emmo's reactions to my throws. I throw the dumbbell a total of NINE TIMES!!! Between the spasm in my arm and trying to stifle MY laughter, it's getting harder for me to throw as all now. The next throw clears the jump but rolls out of the ring under the ring gates. Emmo, ( who has been sitting PATIENTLY at my side this whole time), watched as the judge heads out (yet again!) to "retrieve" the dumbbell. He decides "enough is enough". He lets out an audible "HARRUMPH! gets up, takes the jump, digs out the dumbbell from under the gates, jumps back over the jump and sits in front of me. He then spits it out at my feet, gets up and walks out of the ring. Crowd goes wild...we didn't qualify.

I miss him terribly.

Diane Murphy 


Dewey


 

In Loving Memory of Paige Jones' "Dewey."


Noritaka

 In loving memory of Brenda and Don's "Noritaka" 

 


 


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