Kansas City
501 (c) 3
Overland Park
Lee's Summit
Blue Springs

" 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

Thumbelena Dance.....

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.

Dear Faith,
   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
                                      " Where to Bury a Dog"

"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,
dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they should not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he is yours and he belongs there.
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!!!

Dear, sweet Nutmeg rest in peace.
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 2 days our super bright Bonne knew her new name (it had been Fancy), understood her daily wake-up time was 7:00 AM and that last potty break was 10:00 PM. She quickly discovered a hero in her "brother" Andy (an American Eskimo/Jack Russell mix) who could and would show her the ropes in her new world. Toward me it was frankly only toleration, as she definitely wasn't crazy about being petted by my "evil" human hands, BUT Bonne was responding well to brushing AND really loved being clean.

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.
Until adopting Bonne Belle, an 8 year old Sheltie survivor of a Missouri Puppy Mill, I pretty much considered myself a "Pied Piper" of dogs-- after all I'd owned and fostered some 25 off and on over the years, but never one from a puppy mill. Beautiful, smart, frightened, and a feral Bonne Belle had talons for paws; colitis burning her tummy, a horror of people; especially our hands and feet, and eyes frozen in what's commonly called "a hard stare". Little did I then realize what a wonderful lesson in survival, love and courage that broken, emotionally shut-down little girl was going to give us.
Bonne Belle
Copywrite (c) 2009, Kansas City Sheltie Rescue, All Rights Reserved
                                                     Amazing Grace

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
He came to us all scraggly, blind and deaf
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.
Silvey, a beautiful little blue merle with one blue eye and one brown eye, came to us and our two other rescued shelties as an early Christmas present in 2003.  I remember going to see her as a new arrival at her foster house for the first time just before Thanksgiving.  When she was brought out of her little house for introductions, we were told that we might not want to pick her up, because she had already scratched her foster parent's arms.  Poor thing, she was just a mop who pressed tightly to the floor so she couldn't be seen.  She was scared, shaking, and had a very thin and wiry fur coat.  We knew that shge needed us.

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

We are Steven & Ruth Mitchell and we adopted Jake, our nine to ten year old Sheltie from Rodney & Beth, his foster parents in November of 2006.  And in honor and absolute respect for Jake, our recently departed & precious little man we felt compelled to write this tribute to him.  When my wife Ruth and myself first adopted Jake, he was quite naturally timid & shy.  Especially so with men, probably due to his previous owners before his foster parents rescued him.  I so much wanted him to get past that, and eventually he did when I started taking him on long walks around our 3 acre yard and constantly petting & encouraging him.  A few thousand hugs & kisses from my wife helped.  One day he allowed me to kiss and hug him also.  And Jake soon opened up with all the love in the world to us and became the most loving, attentive and caring little boy ever!  He constantly leaned up against us and kissed us.  As we soon discovered, we needed him and his unconditional love as much as he needed us and our
unconditional love.  We always treated (Jacob) our name for him!  As the son we never had by allowing him to chase after deer at the edge of the property (on his leash of course) and to smell, interact and bark at the neighbors two horses they own.  He also loved to chase after frogs and toads and turtles- I never let him really quite catch them!  Later Jake came to love doing these things and loved his huge yard and constantly wanted to be outside and we allowed him to be, within reason.  When Ruth had surgery on her foot and hand in the past 18 months, Jake became her nurse while I was at work.  He never left her side!  He also ALWAYS protected her.  An example would be the day in the fenced yard, an angry opossum tried to attack her and he fought and chased it off but suffered a bite as a result and had to be treated for it.  Also when a stranger would approach Ruth he would get quite angry and they would walk away immediately.  We miss our precious little boy very much!  We will cherish always our short three and one half years with Jake, as there is no dog to replace him! None! 
Don't be sad my rescue friends. I had so much fun with you. It felt so amazing to give and receive love so freely if only for a short time. Not to mention the ice cream treats, the good food, and all of my new sheltie friends. Then there was riding in the front seat, and best of all - napping with my foster moms.
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
about it, and I was frightened. You loved me anyway and took care of me and I thank you for that. I loved the attention and I loved the safe places you provided for me when I needed to be alone and just think. You helped me get free of so many parasites. But you couldn't know that some would just never leave.
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

Travis, known as Dutch while in Rescue, joined my home in January 2007.
Having just lost my Lab mix to Cancer, I went to the pet adoption event looking for a playmate for my 4 year old female Sheltie.  I wanted a young, playful Sheltie, but none fit the bill that day.  As I was walking out, an old arthritic dog came to the front of his cage for some petting, and looked at me with such sweet, soulful black eyes .  I walked out, silently wishing the old guy well.
I couldn't get the image of his soft eyes out of my mind, and called the next day to inquire about him.  At nine years old, Travis had been in rescue for over a year and his options were limited. 
Travis quickly settled into my home and claimed the main floor as his personal living space.  He was on thyroid medicine, needed bi-weekly medicinal baths at the groomer to combat his dry skin, and was quickly put on arthritis pain medication.  Travis was a low key guy who required high maintenance, but I didn't care - he was worth every dime.

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

April 18, 2011:  In loving memory of Faith. You are forever close in our hearts, Faith. We love you! From your forever family, Monica, Rob, Liz, Tom and Mary

puppy mill had etched a distrust of humans that nullified any potential for happy tail wags.

You came to us with your little brother clinging together and scared of these new humans and afraid of your new surroundings. You walked a mile around a milkbone laying on the floor as a gift, thinking it might eat you instead. Outside all you could initially try was to find a way out of the back yard and escape. What you didn't know was that you had been saved and we were bound and determined to prove you were in a safe place, free from your former life of mistreatment.
Over the years, we came to an understanding. Your way of showing emotion was not always the common dog way, but we learned to read it. Only on rare occasions would your tail provide even the most remote indication of a tail wag toward humans. You took every opportunity to meet, greet, and wag at other dogs, but nary a bark. You watched from afar in your crate, claimed as your safe-haven, the activities in the kitchen and living room, rarely venturing out voluntarily to explore. We worked out agreements on the patio where you would stand still long enough for us to come over and run a hand down your back and call you some cute nicknames, like Ruderiffic before shooting off to another part of the patio where you could keep your eyes on us and have room to shake off the human cooties.

Yes, my friend, you were a hard sell, but time would slowly wear down your mistrust and allow you to become a dog. We were amazed to hear your voice after more than a year, we didn't know you could. A voice that became our alarm clock at 4:30 in the morning because you needed to go out. We knew that you barked when you meant business and never sounded a false alarm. In one of our early adventures we learned that it was funny how a little tiny leash turned you into a cement dog and nobody, but nobody was going to convince you otherwise. We spent a lot of time on the kitchen floor, but alas, a slight wardrobe change to a harness, and cement dog became a little less refusing and after five years, we took our first steps together. Man, did we celebrate!!
Life has been a gift of milestones that we have experienced with you. We watched over the years as your brothers and sister turned to you for leadership. You were alpha, even though you ruled in a silent, non-confrontational manner. You learned to play with your brothers and sister, and often times, became the instigator. We could always tell by the cadence of your paw steps in the front room. Milkbones were no longer scary and you even made frequent sorties outside of your crate and into the living room to willingly collect a milkbone from your daddy every night. You even stood next to him while you ate. Even after we discovered your shallow hip socket several years ago, we worked out an arrangement of loading you into a pet taxi to carry your beefiness in and out the back door and down the four steps to the patio 1600 times a day and night, as we knew it would keep you with us. You have even made it a habit to join us in the living room and snooze on the floor in front of the TV. You have truly been a gift to us and our nine years together was too short. We know that we have grown to love you and in your way, you have grown to love us. We've shared a good road that deviated from your difficult beginnings. You learned to play and showed us you could bark. You let us in, and most important of all...
You became a dog, the honored and regal King Barudney (Dec 1, 1997 - November 29, 2011).

Rest in peace, our four-pawed king. We love you and will miss you.
Mommy, Daddy, Maxwell, and Kegan

The King and Us

Rudy, fourteen years ago, we had no idea of our destiny with you or the ultimate transformation that we would witness over the years.

We met on a hillside at a Petco adoption day on a sunny afternoon, and you were so handsome. You stood next to me for more than two hours wishing you were somewhere else, hoping you were invisible. Your initial years as a stud dog at a
April, 2012:    "Faith, we miss you still. The kids are growing up and the dogs are growing old. You will forever be in our hearts and part of our family. Miss you, Faith Love, your forever family"

Take care, with love from Monica Hodges & family

"My goal in life is to become as wonderful a person as my dog thinks I am."
I found Bobby February, 2011 in just weeks of the rescue bringing him in and I just fell in love with  him.  Glenn became my contact and told me he was stage 3 heartworm positive and 9 years old. The following months I was kept up to date of his treatment and progress. There were grim days and happy days, and the longest 6 months of my life waiting to bring him home! Finally in July he was deemed heartworm negative and could be neutered. August 6, 2011 Glenn brought me Bobby. It was a wonderful day with wonderful months to follow. Slowly Bobby came out of his shell and began playing with my other dogs, Buddy a min pin, and Shorty a Pomeranian. Quickly it became a game of chase Buddy outside. Buddy would go after the Frisbee and Bobby was always on his tail. He didn't look 9, almost 10 years old outside playing, he looked 3 and healthy. Winter came along, and the one good snow we got for the year Bobby was all about it, rolling and jumping and eating the snow. Then he'd chase me and try to jump on me. It was a beautiful snowy day. Those fun days continued into spring and more Buddy chasing went on. Any time we were inside Bobby was on the look out for a free hand so he could be petted. And if you sat on the floor - it was fair game to him! In the morning I couldn't put my shoes on without his head under my leg. Bobby was truly special. After all he'd been through and a family who dropped him because he was sick, he still could love me and my family.
April 30, 2012 I brought Bobby to the vet and the heartache began. Blood work was run
and his kidney levels were through the roof. His glucose was low and his white blood cell count and BUN were high. For the first time in having any of my dogs my vet had to tell me "I don't know the prognosis yet, but it doesn't look good." After more tests and X-rays Bobby was diagnosed with pancreatitis and pneumonia. That on top of his already enlarged, weak heart with fluid around it, it was a deadly combination. The office worked to hydrate Bobby enough to get an IV in. May 1, 2012 they finally got an IV in and we waited to see how he would do. May 2, 2012 8:40am they called me, "Ashley he's worse today, when can you come?" Bobby was done fighting, and he told me that Monday when he came to me sick. He gave everything he had to survive the heartworms and to please me, but this time he was tired.
I said my good byes and held Bobby's head, petting his ears and looking him in the eyes until he was gone.
Mr. Bobby you stole my heart last year and together we walked through so much. You beat the odds with heartworms, then you came to be with me and we continued to fight illnesses, dead teeth, and the fluid around your heart. You came out of your shell and loved us in return. April 30, 2012 you came to tell me good bye and on May 2, 2012 we ended your battle. I hope I did right by you and that now you're in a better place. Such a short 9 months, but forever in my heart, my precious Bobby.


Princess (1/22/05 - 8/11/12)

Sweet Princess, I am so glad that you came into my life on August 5,

We were both determined to help you lose half of your body weight,
so you could feel better and enjoy life again.

You brought a grin to my face every time that you greeted me with
your huge smile, even though you couldn't get up to walk over to me.

I will never forget how you would sit at the bottom of my steps to the
deck, and bark for me to help you climb back up the steps and inside
the house. (We were pretty klutzy doing that move weren't we?)

Your huge smile greeted me every morning.

But on that morning of Saturday, Aug. 11, you weren't waiting to greet me.

You were lying motionless on your side, with a very peaceful smile on your face. The Rainbow Bridge was closer and easier, and you were so tired.

Princess, you taught me a lot in 6 short days, about trust and loving unconditionally, no matter how we may look.

We just didn't have enough time together, did we?

You left huge paw prints on my heart.

Rest in peace, Baby Girl, and know that you were loved.

April, 2013      In memory of our beautiful Faith. Missing you, Faith, especially today. So I sent a donation in your memory to help another senior in need. I love you, Faith, and always will.
Love, Monica & your forever family

Dear Faith, Here we are in April, and yet another year has past. Romeo is 13.5, Storm is 11.5, Holly is 6.5 and the two younger kids are in college while the oldest is now a teacher. Faith, your angel and picture are still on our mantel and we still think about you...I think about you every single day and I miss you still. I'm making a donation to KCSR today in loving memory of you. You are still part of our family, Faith, and forever part of our hearts. Love you, pretty girl, and miss you always. Love, your forever mom xox