R.I.P. ICE the American Eskimo Dog, Tucson 2012/10/27Posted by greyhoundsrule in In Memory - the Rainbow Bridge.
Tags: Ice American Eskimo dog, in memorial, Rainbow Bridge
The following was written by Glenda Taylor, greyhound adopter & original Beading Diva
My life was blessed when a dear friend asked me if I would adopt Ice. His original adopters were moving to Florida and no longer wanted a dog. From speaking with the breeder, I learned that Ice had been fed, walked and groomed, but never allowed in the home, spending all of his time, alone, in the back yard.
I had recently lost a female greyhound due to kidney disease, and my male greyhound, Happy Endings, was lonely without a dog pal. I agreed to meet Ice. When the breeder walked Ice into the room, momentarily, I stopped breathing. This beautiful white dog with a gentle spirit came right up to me, and placed his two front paws on my knees. We fell in love, instantly. He was my fur kid, he knew it, I knew it, and he came home with me that day.
A year or so later, I adopted Daisie Mae, a Golden/Chow pooch that had been rescued from an abusive home. Ice and Daisie Mate clicked immediately, and became inseparable. They were similar in size and weight, and watching them romp throughout the house, charging in and out of the doggie door, with Haps following on behind, warmed my heart. Ice was now sleeping on my bed, had companionship when I was working, and would serve as my protector when he accompanied me to work on the weekends.
When Ice was ten, I started fostering greyhounds. At 30 lbs., Ice was always a gracious host, but made it clear that, despite his size, he was the alpha in the home. None of the greyhounds I fostered every challenged his position.
Starting in the spring of 2012, Ice began to have seizures. They became progressively more aggressive. To watch my buddy claw at the air, his entire body helpless and shuddering because his neurological system was out of whack, was unbearable. I would hold him, stroke him, and talk to him, during these seizures, and I believe he heard me. When I touched him, his first reaction was to nip, but somewhere in his brain, he knew it was me, backed off and let me hold him.
I went through seizures with my first greyhound, Molly. One evening, when I saw her bounce off my couch onto the floor, I knew it was time for her to cross over, just like it was time for Ice to move on and become reacquainted with Daisie Mae.
In my opinion, true love is letting our pets go when it’s their time, not our time. Once my darling’s quality of life has deteriorated to mere existence, it’s time to let our best friends move on, regardless of how painful it is for us.
I miss my little guy so much, but I’m thankful that he and I connected and enjoyed thirteen wonderful years.
Xan, Springer Spaniel to Rainbow Bridge 2012/09/09Posted by greyhoundsrule in In Memory - the Rainbow Bridge.
Tags: pet loss, Rainbow Bridge, springer spaniel
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Written by Jim Hoy
Yesterday our beloved Springer Spaniel, Xan, went to the Rainbow Bridge and was reunited with her adopted mother and mentor, Bryn who passed in January.
She was born Sept. 1, 1999 and passed Sept. 2, 2012. She was so tiny at 8 weeks when we brought her home, Jim could hold her in his hands.
She spent her first 5 years in Seattle and the last 8 here in Tucson. She welcomed all of the greyhounds who we have fostered and she helped to teach them house manners and how to trust and love people.
Saturday was a celebration of her birth 13 years ago, and now we are grieving our sad loss. She is survived by her greyhound, sisters Fiona and Violet, her brothers Bodhi and Conan all at home, her litter-mate brother Huck and Uncle Tom in Seattle and her cousin Zoe in Tucson. Also survived by her people family, Dale & Jim at home and Phil and Charlie in Seattle.
Xan, your passing leaves a huge hole in our hearts, and you will never be forgotten, “Ms. Wiggles.”
Tucson Greyhound: Quinn Jose – RIP 2012/09/09Posted by greyhoundsrule in In Memory - the Rainbow Bridge.
Tags: Quinn Jose, Rainbow Bridge, tucson greyhound
Quinn Jose (then just Jose) was a greyhound I (Karyn) fostered several years back. He was a big black hunk of love. Had I been better off financially I probably would’ve foster failed like I did with my second greyhound Lily but I so couldn’t afford a third dog. Heck, I couldn’t even afford a second greyhound.
I wrote a personal ad for him and sent it along to the meet & greet. I don’t remember what it said but I’m sure I praised his attributes. I wanted him to get adopted ASAP because I was getting ready to go on a vacation and wanted to accomplish that before I left.
As it turns out, Cheryl Bennett was at Petsmart buying dog food and she saw Jose and his personal ad and fell in love. She found him goofy and loveable. She filled out the application. I took Jose to her house. She had about 6 or 7 dogs already. I don’t remember what they were but I do remember I think 2 Airdales, 1 Saint Bernard, 1 Scotty, and 1 Beauvier which I had never heard of. I think there was another dog but now cannot remember. Maybe there were 2 Scotties?
While at her house Jose lifted his leg on the chair. I was mortified; Cheryl and her family not so much. She introduced him to her dogs one by one. I was stressed out and overwhelmed but Jose seemed to take it in stride.
The hard part was for me to leave him there and I cried all the way home.
However, he was in the best possible home with the best possible adopter who went on to give tirelessly of herself to various greyhound and Great Dane rescue efforts.
Fortunately, I saw Quinn Jose last week and I knew he was not long for this earth as he was painfully thin and refusing to eat. He had sarcoma. I am thankful that I got to pet his bony body and whisper in his ear and say my goodbyes. Quinn Jose went to the Rainbow Bridge this past Thursday (Sept. 6). I hope he is free of pain now and running and playing with Painter and Lily and Gordon and Buddy and Slim and all the greyhounds who have gone on before him.
It is so hard to lose a pet or any dog or cat that has touched your heart.
R.I.P. Callie Rose 2012/07/16Posted by greyhoundsrule in In Memory - the Rainbow Bridge.
Tags: Callie Rose, dogs, Rainbow Bridge
My brother and sister-in-law rescued Callie from the pound in Florida. She was one day away from her demise. While the other pound dogs ran to be petted, Callie did not. She shivered in her cage.
She came home with them and for the longest time was afraid of men. Poor Callie what kind of damaged life was she subject to before that?
I was fortunate to meet Callie on my visits to Florida. We’re a dog-loving family. Callie was always a tad cautious with me but never the less I was able to take her for walks and give her cookies when others could not get near her.
When my father died and we went to Ohio, Callie came too. She was a welcome hiccup in the day to day chores of dealing with death. I still remember her racing in the snow and the look of sheer joy on her sweet face.
I would sing her the Callie song:
I love my Callie, my little Gallie. I love my Callie, my little Pallie. I love my Callie, my little Callie. Please don’t take my Callie girl away.
Callie tolerated my singing.
And like with all our beloved pets, we cannot fathom that they will leave us. Callie suffered weak rear legs, coughing, and loss of bodily functions. One of the most difficult decisions we pet owners have to make is when to put our friends down. They at least can die with dignity unlike our parents who are kept alive in negligent nursing homes.
During my May visit to Florida, I was thrilled that Callie still wanted to walk around the block and still came to me for treats.
Run free at the Rainbow Bridge dear Callie. I loved you so.
Rainbow Bridge: KiKi – 5 year old Doberman 2012/03/30Posted by greyhoundsrule in In Memory - the Rainbow Bridge.
Tags: canine cancer, KiKi doberman, Rainbow Bridge
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From Chuck & Mary Danielian
“We adopted Kiki from Doberman Rescue at age one. She immediately taught her two older adopted brothers the Dobie Rules – the female is the boss. She was a universal blood donor at the Collier County Emergency Pet Hospital and saved the lives of many a family pet. Her bone cancer was discovered during a routine X-ray when she started favoring her right hind leg. We had made up our minds that she had come into this world, whole, and she would pass to the Rainbow Bridge the same way. We were not going to put her through an amputation and chemo. She spent six more quality weeks with us in home hospice before we had to decide it was time. She left us at the tender age of five. She was so loved – she is so missed.”
Here’s a beautiful tribute video.
Our hearts go out to the Danielian family. It is so hard to lose a canine loved one especially at such a young age — Beading Divas to the Rescue
Tags: border collie, Bryn, Rainbow Bridge, Tucson dog
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The following was written by Jim Hoy.
OBITUARY NOTICE for BRYN – 11/25/1996 – 1/7/2012
Bryn passed away on Saturday January 7th at her home in Tucson. She was two months past her 16th birthday. She is survived by her human family, Dale, Jim, Phil and Charlie who miss her terribly. Also surviving are her pack members, Xan & Bodhi, her Spaniel pals, Fiona, her greyhound and greyhound foster sister, Violet.
Bryn lived in Seattle for most of her life, before moving to the desert of Tucson. There was worry that this Husky/Border Collie might not adapt to the climate change. It turned out that she loved the desert. She spent countless hours lying on the patio basking in the sun.
Bryn was an only pet for three years. When Dale & Jim brought home 8 week old Xan, Bryn sniffed Xan up and down, checking her out. Suddenly Bryn left the room, and returned with her favorite toy in her mouth. She went over to Xan and dropped the toy in front of the puppy. That began a 12 year friendship which ended with Bryn’s passing.
For all intents and purposes Bryn became Xan’s surrogate mother, protecting her and loving her. In her puppyhood, Bryn (being part Border Collie) herded her share of things: cats, other dogs, and sometimes people.
Bryn came to be what Dale & Jim called, “their Zen dog.” She could always sense if someone was feeling upset or down, and would go nuzzle them, in a much needed effort to comfort them.
Soon after arriving in Tucson Bryn took on a new job: helping train rescued greyhounds. Most of these greyhounds had never been in a house before. Bryn showed them the routine and daily life of a house trained pack.
As she aged her hearing slowly ebbed away. But if you could get her visual attention, she would respond to the hand signals which she learned as a pup, which worked well.
She was seldom late for dinner. Feeding 5 dogs can take some time and Bryn would sometimes bark out that as senior dog she needed her food NOW! Then, after eating she would go around to the other dogs bowls and lick them clean, over and over and over!
She loved to ‘roach’ (lay on her back) with the greyhounds. All the other pack dogs would defer to her, as if they knew she was the wise and loving one. She made many friends over the years, both human and canine friends.
After Bryn collapsed on the patio, Dale & Jim took her into the kitchen and made a comfortable bed for her. She was paralyzed by a stroke and a large inoperable cancerous tumor probably figured in her demise too. At one point the pack sat around Bryn, sniffing her. Xan gave a bark, trying to wake Bryn. Fiona lay down on the bed with Bryn a couple of times, as if to say goodbye. Bryn’s breathing became labored. Dale called the vet and made an appoint to have her euthanized. A half hour before they were to leave, Bryn’s breathing slowed until she passed. They were so thankful to have been with Bryn at home, as she made her crossing over the rainbow bridge.
A number of years ago dear friends, Justin and Ray commissioned Seattle artist Grego Rachko to do an oil painting of Bryn. It hangs on the bedroom wall, looking down on Dale and Jim.
Bryn, you will always live on in the hearts of those who loved you so deeply . Enjoy your herding in Heaven.
————Thank you for sharing Bryn with us. She had the best two daddies (Jim & Dale) in the whole wide world
Tags: beloved cat, cat, cats, Rainbow Bridge, Roomie
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The tribute is written by Linda Berzok.
Almost 18 years of Joy & Magic
Tucson, Arizona—Rommie, The Miracle Cat, died on March 24 at the Casas Adobes Pet Clinic after a long period of decline resulting from kidney failure. She went to sleep for the final time peacefully in the company of her adoptive parents, Linda and Bob, while lying wrapped in a towel on Bob’s lap.
Born in the wild in Westchester County, N. Y. in May 1993, Rommie and her “identical twin brother” were rescued by a senior citizen and delivered to Forgotten Felines, a cat adoption agency. Linda and Bob, who married that June, went to the adoption clinic two months later and Linda picked Rommie because she was so beautiful–a tiny, long-haired black and white tabby with a plume-like tail–and because the kitten was so terribly frightened and vulnerable (clear signs of being born outside and not handled during the critical first month of life). One vet described her as having “haunted eyes.” Who knows what they had seen? “I knew she would need a lot of nurturing to help her gain confidence,” Linda said.
Linda and Bob took her home to Stamford, Conn. and began the long process of trying to encourage the semi-feral three month-old kitten to trust them. “It took years for us to teach her that petting was pleasurable and even longer before she would jump up on my lap,” said Bob. She remained mostly timid and stand-offish with other humans and never tolerated dogs or other cats.
Rommie’s early life was relatively uneventful, although she had a bizarre appetite for things like matzo, tortilla chips, Indian food, pizza, stuffed cabbage in tomato sauce and was once seen swallowing a piece of strawberry!
Rommie got to visit the Berzok cabin in the Adirondacks when she was very young. Here Linda and Bob would leave the door to the screened porch open so she could get up at dawn, sit there and watch the whole natural world wake up.
When Linda and Bob bought their home in the Berkshires, Rommie rejoiced in the outdoors. Usually, she stayed close to the house and generally came back when called, albeit sometimes reluctantly after dusk.
This began the period of Rommie testing the theory that cats have nine lives. One Christmas, she dove off the living room loft toward a 6 foot decorated tree because she was so terrified of Linda’s wielding a noisy vacuum too close for her comfort. Although she may have thought one of the limbs would hold her, she crashed through the tree sending decorations flying in all directions, and landed on her chin, knocking out several teeth. Then she beat a hasty retreat under the bed in the guest room overnight. Thrice more in the course of her life, she would slip off the loft “cat walk,” 16 feet off the ground, and land without injury.
There were also physical problems. Rommie was given to excessive throwing up from the time she was a kitten. Although her parents repeatedly took her to various vets looking for an answer and put her on various special diets, no vet was ever were really sure what accounted for her ultra-sensitive stomach.
In May 2006, Linda and Bob observed she was eating like a maniac but losing weight—down to 5 pounds from her all-time high of 8. The vet diagnosed thyroid disease and Bob took her for a radiation treatment only available several hours away in Auburn, Mass. She bounced back.
Once Linda and Bob began to commute annually from New York State to Tucson, Rommie pulled her most dramatic caper. Arriving in Louisville, Ky., for the night, Rommie who was fed up with the travel, jumped ship (car) and took off. After several days of searching, calling and trying to lure her back even with a roast chicken, Linda and Bob went on to Tucson distraught to gather more resources. They ran an ad with photo in the Louisville Courier-Journal Lost and Found and got leads to the groups Alley Cat Advocates and Feral Felines, who routinely trapped strays. When the ad elicited calls with sightings (they proved to be false), Bob headed back to Louisville to make sure all bases had been covered. After nearly a week of searching neighborhoods morning-to-night and posting hundreds of flyers, Bob, who was about to give up, was directed to a person in the area. Vicki Litton, a volunteer who on her day off was specifically searching for Rommie, had heard a cat crying from a culvert about 100 feet from the hotel. Four hours later, with the help of a half dozen people, the cat did indeed turn out to be Rommie. During her 16 days back in the wild, Rommie had lost a pound and a half and was dehydrated, filthy and covered with mats. But, she suffered no permanent damage and was featured in an article in the Louisville Courier-Journal.
Years later, in Tucson, there was another crisis when Rommie’s vomiting went completely out of control, occurring many times a day. Linda went online and was able to diagnose that Rommie had irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). She began a new hypoallergenic diet, antacids morning and evening and also an antibiotic at night. This helped her incredibly and her health and weight improved.
Linda and Bob began to think she was invincible and would live to 21, but she was slowing down, going deaf and showing other signs of aging. This past summer in Stephentown, she suffered a very painful urinary tract infection, treated with two shots of antibiotics, and the vet confirmed that her kidneys had shrunk (a common occurrence in older cats). During the fall and winter, she became increasingly lethargic and stopped grooming herself. In March, she began to have some episodes of incontinence. Something else was wrong.
Linda and Bob took her to the Tucson senior vet on March 14 who confirmed she was dehydrated, had lost a pound since her last exam, both due to severe kidney dysfunction, and that she had as little as a week to live. On Thursday, March 24, she stopped eating and Linda and Bob took her back to the vet again that morning. She had lost another 7 ounces and was anemic. We brought her home for private good-byes, a walk outside, being held, petting and one last perch in the sun on the windowsill. From that morning, right through the time she died in the late afternoon, at an age which in human terms would be 87, she never shut her haunted eyes again.
A Few of Her Favorite Things: Barbecuing with her Daddy in Stephentown; Tres Leches Cake; Muffins in our bed on Sunday mornings; Lying in the sun; Sitting on windowsills; Bird watching; Standing in front of a screen door with the breezes wafting through her fur; Times outside in Stephentown—bounding through the grass, sitting on the top step of our rail ties surveying the entire landscape; Rolling over and over on command; Lying on her Daddy’s chest in bed and communing with him; Sampling her Mom’s culinary delights just when guests were due to arrive for dinner.
Her Least Favorite Things: Any other animals and most other humans except her Mommy and Daddy, and a recently developed friendship with Gennie at Creature Comforts “Sleep-Away Camp;” Visits to Dr. Doom—the name we gave to every vet; Motel Rooms; Car rides over twisty-turny roads; Being left alone. Travels A 10-Day Car Trip to the Gaspe Peninsula, Canada; A separate trip to Toronto where she got loose from the hotel room and, according to the manager, “saw most of the first floor;” 10 cross-country car trips between Stephentown and Tucson; 7 airline flights between Stephentown and Tucson and 1 from Louisville to Tucson; The Cabin in the Adirondacks.
Rommie taught everyone to believe in miracles and that cats are angels in fur.
In heartfelt memory: Sweetie Pie greyhound 2011/02/21Posted by greyhoundsrule in Greyhounds Rule/News, In Memory - the Rainbow Bridge.
Tags: dogs, Florida greyhound, greyhound, greyhounds, Rainbow Bridge
The following was submitted by Cyndi Rennick:
Here is a little bit about my Sweetie Pie.
What follows is what flowed out… I just wrote… I tried to give you an overview, and it still isn’t even a fraction of who she was. There will never be another quite like her. I loved her so much.
Sweetie Pie passed just after Thanksgiving, November 29, 2010.
She was 12-1/2. I adopted her right off the Miami track during a “clean-out” of the kennel and we picked her up from the hauler truck at a stop on Interstate 275. She was 5. She was a kennel favorite and ran 181 races. I suppose she made someone a lot of money. She was meant to go to a brood farm, but the kennel manager snuck her out, bless her.
Sweetie Pie’s real life began that day when she was 5 years old and we first saw each other’s face. I fell instantly in love with this tiny bundle of energy and joy. She was funny, happy, curious, and had a sense of humor that I have never seen in another dog in all my life. She was my little ray of sunshine, no matter what kind of day I was having, she could make me smile, and most times, even laugh out loud.
She and I grieved our Bandit together when he passed at 8 from osteo. I somehow always knew she would be with me for longer. I feel like she knew I needed her. When she got cancer herself at 12, she was amazing, always upbeat even through surgery and three chemo treatments. She would have continued on even after she relapsed if I had asked her to, but I knew it was time for me to do the right thing for her and let her go.
For the first time ever, I looked at her and knew that she was tired. She had given so much for so long, I just couldn’t ask for more.
She took a huge part of my heart with her when she left and I still miss her every day. But she also left me with the many lessons she taught me, to laugh in the face of adversity, to enjoy the sun on a warm day, and to be love with all your heart. She was all that and so much more.
I know that she is safe with Bandit now. One day after she left he let me know that he had her. That was a huge relief and I cried and cried.
The house felt so empty after my precious girl was gone, even with Joe and Dodd there, and I think they felt the same way. She was a huge presence in a tiny body, and will be deeply missed by all who knew her. Slowly but surely I am starting to smile more than I cry when I think of her.
She was my girl, my little lady, my precious princess, my constant companion and my snuggle bug every single night of our lives together. Life just won’t be the same without her, but we are all better for having known her.
My Sweetie Pie. My girl. My heart. You mattered.
In Loving Memory: Berry the Greyhound 2011/02/12Posted by greyhoundsrule in Greyhounds Rule/News, In Memory - the Rainbow Bridge.
Tags: greyhounds, In memory, Rainbow Bridge
My Berry – Run over the Bridge. Mom Will Find You.
Six years ago, a beautiful, timid, terrified little greyhound raced into my heart. In her short six and a half years, she had seen so much sadness. My vow was to see there would be no fear, no sadness and no lack of love for her remaining life.
For six years, I have loved and cared for you. For eternity I will love you and miss you.
As I caressed your ears, stroked your silky head that used to peek around corners at me, kissed your little nose and spoke to you of my love, I lay stretched out in front of you. You closed your eyes for the last time, gazing at the one who loved you most, knowing I will love you forever.
Until we meet again at the Bridge. Godspeed, Flying Berry.
The above content and photo was submitted by our friend Nancy Weller of Missouri. Berry was adopted from MI REGAP. You can read Nancy’s blog here.
Tags: Chance Doberman, Rainbow Bridge
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In Loving Memory of
You Were So Loved – You Are So Missed
With heavy hearts and a tear in our eyes, after seven years we must say goodbye.
Please understand, we’ve done all we could. If we could do anything else, you know we would.
I’m sitting right here, gently rubbing your ears while I talk to you softly, trying to hold back the tears.
The memories you gave us, we’ll never forget – especially the ones of the day we all met.
One last hug and one last kiss – you have no idea, how much you’ll be missed.
To look into your eyes, this one last time, you tell me it’s ok, you know it was your time.
Your eyes are closed now, and you go to sleep. We’ll pray to the Lord, your soul he’ll keep.
Go in peace, now, our dear friend. We’ll stay right here with you until the end.
Dream of that special day and time, when we’ll meet at the Bridge, and all will be fine.
We’ll run and play, side by side, with a soft warm feeling, deep down inside.
Your memory will live on in each one of us. You’ll always be number one to all of us.
Have a safe journey through the night. I promise when you awake, everything will be alright.
So with heavy hearts and tears in our eyes, just for now our friend – we say goodbye.
By Chuck & Mary Danielian