Sadly,
our beautiful friend and companion, Wix Jonah, succumbed
to the bone cancer with which he was afflicted. Jonah
lived almost 10 years, most of it in pain due to the
auto-immune disease he had, and then, the cancer. He was
with us over 5 years of that time, and we did the best
we could to make him comfortable, and I believe he
understood that. He never ceased to wag his tail when he
saw one or the other of us headed his way with a treat
or bowl of food, or just to pet and make over him. Even
in the last few months, in the great amount of pain he
must have been in, he always met us at the door. He
would get extremely excited when we presented a leash to
him, knowing he was going out the door. He couldn’t walk
far, but a turn around the yard seemed to satisfy him.
He was a sweet, good natured boy, and beautiful, also.
He was classically shaped, and moved with the grace of a
ballet dancer. He had a dark hairline from the back
corner of both eyes back towards his ears that gave him
an oriental look. His friends, Becca Walker, Sweet Pea,
Bopper, his uncle, Homer, and Monster all gathered
around this morning and said good bye. Not one of them
barked or made any noise at all as Sandra took Jonah out
the door. Normally, when she leaves, they will bark and
whine for a long time, but not this morning. We would
like to thank the staff at Roanoke Animal Hospital for
all they did, and all they tried to do for Jonah, Mini,
and Jefferson. He will be sadly missed.
Our beloved girl passed away on March 16, 2011 due to
bone cancer. Freckles entered our lives in the summer of
2002 when she picked us to be her forever parents.
Gift
was a very special brood that quickly made her place
here at the kennel. I sent her to the bridge on the 12th
and her sweet face and stately presence is greatly
missed. The first time I saw her I was on a farm
in WV picking up some young dogs and the farmer as an
after thought asked if I was interested in taking an old
gal he had. He figured she would just live out her life
on the farm, but he wanted a little better life for her.
He brought her out and thought that she was around 10
years old. I told him if he spayed her I would pick her
up in 2 weeks when I came back. He said ok and put her
into an empty run. He didn't notice that the gate on the
back of the run was open where we had taken the other
dogs out. Gift spotted it and very matter of factly went
in the front gate, out the back gate, across the little
bridge onto the driveway and headed for my car. I was
already getting in the car and didn't notice her till
the farmer shouted at her. I stopped and watched her.
The farmer caught up to her, grabbed her collar and went
to return her to the run. She reared up and fought him
every step of the way. He was amazed and kept trying to
coax her, but her mind was made up and she was coming
with me. I was almost in tears and when he got her back
into the run I knelt down and told her I would be back
for her, I promised! When I got home and looked her up I
found out she was 12 instead of 10 and called the farmer
back and said to hold off on her spay. Two weeks later I
returned and Gift sauntered out of the kennel, down the
path, across the bridge to the driveway and stood by the
car. We were actually looking at other dogs and only
noticed her when she passed us on her way to the car. I
ran out, opened the door, loaded her up and watched her
check out the accommodations and settle on a bed with a
small sigh, like ok, I'm ready, let's get this show on
the road. So began my love affair with this sweet
southern lady. She had her own sense of style and had to
be properly attired whenever she "went to town", whether
it was a fun day at PetSmart or a trip to the vets. I
could have drug her thru the gate to the car, but put a
hat on her and she would lead the way to her "taxi". She
loved going to PetSmart and for her 14th birthday got a
little party complete with a cupcake. She was in heaven.
Her rear started giving out and Dr Simms was ready with
her magic needles to keep her comfortable and going. She
got her treatments at Howard's and decided that she
didn't like his place at all. When she was done she
would stomp down the deck with attitude, going back to
the kennel where she had her special spots. When Flavor
passed away Gift became the head chick with all the
perks, namely a place on the revered doggie couch. She
couldn't get up on her own but would stand beside it and
lift a paw or just drop me a look and I boosted her up.
She also developed a thing for hotdogs and would never
fail to appear if the fridge door got opened or
sometimes she would just stand in front of it and give
me "the look". I was her grateful slave. Her last night
I lifted her onto the couch and one at a time the other
dogs approached her, sniffed, touched noses with her
then moved on. They all paid their last respects to a
great girl. I watched it all with tears running down my
face. Dr. Simms paid her one last visit and I thanked
her for her respect and gentleness in sending my old gal
to the bridge. I am touched that Gift chose me to spend
her last years with and I hope I am a better person for
our relationship. She had wisdom and grace and a
slamming sense of style. Run with the wind Gift, you
were surely a gift to me.
Our
Miss Lil (a.k.a. Montana Lil, a.k.a. High-Speed Hound,
a.k.a. the Lildebeast) died on Tuesday, January 05, just
three months shy of her 16th birthday. She
came to us after 5 years as a racer, and three years
spent waiting for someone to adopt her, and she was ours
for 8 more good years. She was the oldest greyhound in
the valley and the reigning queen of Greyhound Planet
Day. Goodbye, Miss Lil. We will miss your sweet shy
nature, and your cold wet pointy nose, and your soft
fur, and your long skinny tail (was that your real
tail?), and the figure-eight racetrack that you wore in
the grass, and watching the dirt fly while you dug
another hole just because it felt good. We filled
in the holes in the yard, but we can’t fill the hole in
our home where you used to be. We love you.
My
Rippa left for the Bridge on November 16. She was
diagnosed with osteosarcoma on 10/28 and cancer took
her from me far too soon. Rippa was my first
greyhound and started me on a wonderful journey
loving her and all the other hounds who have
followed.
My
sweet
Jesse
man
has
crossed
the
bridge
today.
I
have
had
him
for
4
years
and
have
loved
every
day
with
him.
He
has
been
ill
for
some
months
and
it
was
time
for
him
to
say
goodbye.
Find
Twister,
some
sunshine
with
cool
breezes
and
peanut
butter
bread.
I
will
love
you
forever
big
man.
In
memory of our sweet Nictor, our first rescue greyhound.
Without Sara's work we would never have known such a kind, docile,
gentle and graceful animal. He was our mainstay, and now he is
gone but never, ever forgotten. We'll always love you, "Mr.
Greyhound."
e.
I was very disappointed when it was that dog that was delivered to
me the following weekend. That disappointment lasted less than a day
as that dark brindle boy worked his magic on me. The perfect dog I
told everyone. But perfect can't begin to describe what Hardday was.
He was my confidant, he was the warm body that snuggled with me at
night, he was the wagging tail with the happy feet that greeted me
every time I came home. He was the beginning of a journey that has
given me the most joy and the biggest heartache ever. For 11 years
his one eye has missed nothing. He kept order in the kennel, he
graced my bed and was always there putting his nose in my hand and
giving his strength when times got tough. For all his easy going
manner he had a core of steel and a determination to do things his
way no matter what. That determination carried him thru the last few
years as his body got frail. Many thanks to Dr. Simms, Hardday's
acupuncturist, whom he referred as the cookie Dr., for helping to
keep him going. Last night Hardday had a stroke. His weak rear gave
out and he could only go to the right. He fought and thrashed for
hours. Getting him in a vehicle was out of the question. I fussed,
argued and begged him to stop. He had beaten every other road bump
in his life and he wasn't about to give up without a fight. I
finally got him calmed down and resting and got a few hours sleep
before he was up and at it again. He had to pee and he was going
outside no matter what. Once that was done I laid with him on his
bed and he let me know that he was done with this body and ready to
move on. All he wanted in the end was for me to be with him. Such
presence, grace and dignity as he had allowed him to leave with a
slight sigh and a promise to wait for me. Right now I'm lost. My
compass, my solid base that grounded me, my reason for everything I
do is gone. I'm glad you are free my sweet man, but OMG how I miss
you! - Sara
Dexter the
Wonder Pooch. Dexter Doggy Dogg. Triple D.
My husband and I adopted Dexter from Star City
Greyhounds five years ago. He was a
terrible racing greyhound, but he was an
outstanding pet greyhound. Affectionate,
sweet, usually mellow but occasionally grumpy,
Dexter was the dog that met me every day at the
door, the dog that danced with me in the living
room, the dog that snuggled his 74-pound frame
between my husband and me in our queen-sized
bed. Dexter was the dog that made us love
dogs and was the undisputed pack leader to our
two other pooches. We weren't ready to
lose him.
On June 2, the seemingly healthy 7-year-old dog
we left in the morning was clearly in distress
when my husband returned home from work.
We took him to Emergency Veterinary Services of
Roanoke, where he spent the night in critical
care. But the vet couldn't fix what
was broken. Something exploded in his brain -- a
tumor, an aneurism, we don't know -- and it was
forcing his blood pressure to brutally punish
the rest of his organs. No matter how much
medicine was pumped into him throughout the
night, he wasn't coming back. After 14
hours of treatment there was no improvement. We
said goodbye and put his body to rest.
We cried an ocean of tears. The grief was
choking. We felt that we had somehow let him
down, even though logically we knew that wasn't
true. I regret that Dexter got dealt a
crappy hand of DNA. I regret that he won't be
here for another summer, another Christmas,
another spring. I regret that we have to
develop a new daily routine with our remaining
pets -- a new normal -- that doesn't include
him. But I will never regret that Dexter
was part of our family. He left a legacy
in my personal and professional life. Dexter the
Wonder Pooch, the muse that inspired this column
and my blog, is immortal in our hearts.
The outpouring of sympathy my family received
was touching and has helped us find peace.
Cards and e-mails from friends, co-workers and
dog lovers I've met through this column as well
as empathetic comments left on my blog and my
Facebook page show me that people do care, they
do understand this grief, and that we have a
great circle of friends. Will we get
another dog? Maybe. Probably. But not for a
while. My family needs time to grieve and
time to heal. And that will take as long as it
takes.
Excerpt reprinted courtesy of Nona Nelson
See Nona's full article "The Pain of Losing a
Pet" at
The Happy Wag.
    |
Ozzie
My sweet baby girl
Twister has crossed the Bridge. I will
miss her perky ears, her endearing 
