Pet Memorials
Helping Families Honor the Lives Of Those They Love
Hancock
4/15/2014It was our pleasure to have our sweet buddy for the time we did. I think he rescued us more than we did him. Even though he was blind he saw right through the heart of his family and gave his love graciously. We look forward to reuniting with him some day.Nean BucknerOrange Park, FloridaApril 19, 2014
Gabe
12/1/2003 - 4/5/2014Life goes on but there is something missing. A cold nose that wakes me in the morning. A thump at night beside the bed as you lay down. That sad look that gets you a treat even when you didn't come when called. Will miss you forever.Bernie & Linda EwellFuquay Varina, North CarolinaApril 19, 2014
Sasha
3/5/2002 - 4/4/2014"My Dog's Rhapsody in the Night" From Dog Songs Poems by Mary Oliver

She puts her cheek against mine
and makes small expressive sounds.
And when I'm awake, or awake enough
she turns upside down, her four paws in the air
and her eyes dark and fervent.
"Tell me you love me," she says.
"Tell me again."
Could there be any sweeter arrangement?
Over and over she gets to ask.
And I get to tell.
Andrea AugerNorton, MassachusettsApril 19, 2014
Misty Carrell
4/2/1999 - 4/17/2014Misty Moo, you are my sweetiest of the sweeties and cutiest of the cuties! Can't wait to see you at the Rainbow Bridge!Jan CarrellFlorissant, MissouriApril 19, 2014
Flash L. Cannon
11/15/2002 - 4/13/2014Flash, our precious boy. 11 1/2 years was not long enough with you, our wonderful companion. The house is very quiet without your voice & devil-may-care antics. We will miss playing fetch and hide & seek with you.

Your little soul & spirit are in every room, and it's hard to believe we will never see you racing through the house anymore.

We will always love you, little boy.

Mama & Papa
Linda & Keith CannonSt. Augustine, FloridaApril 18, 2014
Maggie
I left today on a six-day trip for my airline, but before I left, I had to do the most painful and difficult thing I've ever had to do. I had to end the life of my closest, most loving, and most faithful companion, my dog Maggie. She was with me for 15 years, from the time when she was just a tiny puppy, and she lived through the most difficult and painful times of my life with me, always there for me, the single thing that I've been able to depend upon without fail and without question for very nearly a third of my years on this earth. She passed away from euthanasia as I held her in my arms, lying in her favorite spot, on her bed looking out "her window" into the grass of my front yard down below. It was the most peaceful parting I could have imagined.

Loss is never easy, and I don't believe it's necessarily even possible to measure one loss against another, to gauge or ordinate the losses we encounter through the arc of our existences in terms of their relative effects on us. Each loss we experience is unique unto itself, and our response to it and the emotions and lessons we carry away from it are no more easily articulated or categorized or quantified than the colors of the rainbow. But I do believe we "know what we know" about our losses, and the very personal comprehension of what each loss means to us makes it unnecessary and irrelevant to try to superordinate them against one another. They all have import, and they all have meaning, and each one has its own significance and its own station apart from all the others. But moreover, I think we feel them all to different degrees and in different flavors based on the experiences and memories they represent, the immediacy of their relevance to our day-to-day existences, and their implications for our lives going forward. When we lose something that is emblematic of or closely interwoven with other very significant and defining life experiences, then that loss is magnified and assigned unique meaning, and as a result it can assume a status along our life's trajectory that it otherwise might never be afforded. Such is the case with my Maggie.

Maggie came into my life in a most unexpected way at a most unexpected time. My daughters Molly and Emma were four years and three months old, respectively, and we were visiting my parents in Auburn one weekend. Maggie -- same age as Emma -- was frolicking with two older dogs in the yard next door, and Molly immediately fell in love with her. Seeing how much Molly wanted her, the neighbor informed me that she had been left in a cardboard box on the steps of a vet's office, and needed a home. As Avril Levigne once said in a song, "Could I make it any more obvious?" Precious little did I realize what the next 15 years held in store for Maggie and me, and how life would shape her significance to me. I mean, she was just a dog....ya know?

But "just a dog" can mean so much more than just that when it's juxtaposed against the reality of life, when life happens with or without one's consent.

As I've said, Maggie was the one constant in my life from that day in 1999 until I told her goodbye this morning. Through more than a dozen moves during that time, all over Georgia and Florida and back to Georgia, she was always ready to hop in the car and "go with" to new and unfamiliar digs. When I was very nearly killed in a car accident in 2001, she sat vigil by me as I recovered, always there to offer comfort with a lick of the hand. When I lost my job in the post-9/11 aviation world and had to resort to freelance flying to feed my young family, she was always there to greet me with joy and no judgment when I walked in the door after long absences. When I returned home from a three-week trip on New Year's in 2003, she was there for me, albeit with a look of bewilderment on her face, as I walked into a house that had been utterly denuded by my wife as she took my daughters and left me for greener pastures. She was my comfort in the deaths of my parents, mom in 2003 and dad in 2005, and my brother Rob just last year, as well as several other family tragedies and untimely deaths of loved ones along the way. Through years of itinerant existence and overseas military deployments and health challenges and personal upheaval, she was always there for me. And that's why I say that the character of a loss is most clearly defined not by who is lost, nor what is lost, nor how nor why nor when the loss occurs...but rather by the greater shared frame of reference surrounding the loss. There is more to loss than the thing that is lost; it is the framework of one's life experience inextricably entangled with that which is lost that defines the significance of the loss. The singularity of what is lost is merely a patch in a great tapestry of life experience...but with that patch missing, the tapestry is both never the same as it once was, and also more unique than it ever was before the patch was removed. That is why the patch, and its loss, possess the unique significance that they do.

It's been said that love is what you've been through with someone. That being true, I can say with certainty that the love I shared with Maggie, this "mere canine", is unique and timeless. I miss her terribly already.
Bruce McGeheeRoswell, GeorgiaApril 18, 2014
Bogey
4/14/2003 - 4/16/2014Are sweet boy you are missed so very much. The house is empty without you
So many people you touched and were loved by are hurting but will be better people
Just by the unconditional love you gave. Have fun at rainbow bridge
We will all be together someday and you will always be in are hearts forever 💞mommy & daddy
Patrick LaddSeattle, WashingtonApril 18, 2014
Bhabo
Bhabo was a very good dog, even though there may be a few cats that would argue that point. I adopted him from the shelter when he was 4 after he had been given up by his original family. At the time I was living in remote Alaska and this was the perfect place for Bhabo. Bhabo always loved camping and being on the boat, swimming and playing in the snow. He was always right beside me for 10 years and always there to welcome you home. The house seems empty without him here but I know he is in a better place and no longer in pain.Justin SchilzSpanaway, WashingtonApril 17, 2014
Taz
2/14/2014 - 4/15/2014Taz was adopted from CARE at the Evanston Animal Shelter. He was approximately five months old and full of energy and occasional bad intentions. While he was a challenge (drinking our coffee, pulling the toilet paper off the roll and through the house, opening closets and taking everything out), he was a communicator and entertainer. Taz had so much personality that he made us laugh every day. As he passed 10 years of age his vet noted that he wasn't slowing down and said he was "a puppy between the ears". We were very fortunate to share 12 years with him.Robert O'HaraEvanston, IllinoisApril 17, 2014
Lady
4/17/2001 - 3/25/2014It has been two weeks since our beloved border collie, Lady, passed away. Nothing seems right, but those of us who loved her so much know that her suffering has ended and she is sleeping peacefully. More importantly, she is now playing with her brother, Turk (the Wonder Dog); her uncle Trevor; and, of course, her two cousins from California.Laura BryantClayton, MissouriApril 16, 2014