In Loving Memory

Rocky boy you will forever be missed my handsome sweet boy…..

My sweet Snowflake, thank you for giving us 14 1/2 years of wonderful memories. We will love you and miss you forever! Your presence is greatly missed sweet girl.💖🌈🐾

Im so glad our lives crossed dear Nikki, we miss you tremendously.

Molly, we will forever be grateful for the Love you brought to our family, always carry you in our heart and be joyful every time we think of you! MISS YOU.........PRETTY GIRL!!!!!!

Where do I begin Bubs?! Rya (sister/littermate) and I miss you so much. It’s always too soon but I know you’re in a better place now, having fun, chasing balls and squeaking your binky like you loved to do! 🎾🥎⚽️🏀 We love you and miss you sooooooooo much!

Willow was our ballerina cat who loved to piroutte while chasing her tail. She was a beloved member of our tamily for 20 years. She was our beauty.

Rex, I will always cherish the time we did have. I am so sorry and I miss you every morning, that German Shepherd, spirit, an independence unmatched! The house seems empty and your fascination and zeal with your friend “the mower”. From now on every time I cut the grass I will be crying.🥲 I know your spirit is strong 💕

Declan or "D-Tail" as we called him, was part of a pair of kittens (Declan and Bartholomew) that we adopted in the spring of 2010. Declan and Bart were inseparable and our constant companions, no matter where we traveled or where we lived. They were home wherever we laid our heads at night. Bart passed suddenly in February of 2024, but Declan journeyed on, at first on his own and later with another kitten we adopted to keep him company. Declan developed kidney disease in 2023 and gradually declined, but it never affected his sweet, loving personality and he never stopped putting on a brave face. On the days he felt well, he would play like he did as a kitten and we never tired of indulging him in his comfort routines. When he could no longer compensate for his disease, we called Dr. Lionel to come alleviate his suffering. He laid on the bed as we brushed him and told him how much we loved him and how much joy he brought to our lives. We miss him, but we choose to believe that he's in a place now where he is young and healthy again. We look forward to the day that we might see him again. Lovingly, your Mom and Dad.

Mr B, our sweet goofy boy, we already miss you so much. I will never forget the sound of your hound howl when I walked into Forsyth Humane Society to pick you up for fostering. Over the past 12 years, we had so many adventures, long and short walks, and cuddles. You were our first foster fail despite my attempts to find you a different home. You were always supposed to be with us. You have been obsessed with picking up sticks, lizards, chipmunks, explaining the flaws of trickle down theory with your urine, lounging in hammocks. You have stolen a fair amount of meat from your pops only to be fed boiled chicken and ground turkey every meal for the past 1.5 years. We hope your last meal of tacos satisfied your meat tooth. Pharrell’s Happy will always remind us of you at the beach. I hope you get to hang your head out of a Subaru window while driving up a mountain in dog heaven. You were the best boy. We love you. 🌈🐾

On July 12, 2025, Lisbeth, official Walmart greeter to every dog she ever met (if Walmart greeters were allowed to lick their guests), tenacious toy snake exterminator, champion swimmer, and love burglar, had a seizure and passed away suddenly at home at the age of eleven, with me and her hero, Eric, by her side. We are gutted. I’ve met hundreds (possibly thousands) of dogs in my life. But I can say, with all honesty and without hesitation: Lisbeth was hands-down the sweetest, most sensitive dog I have ever met. Period. To have actually become one of her humans will forever be one of the deepest honors of my life. I’m so grateful the Universe brought her to us. And this is how it happened … In September of 2014, a few friends sent us a link to an adoptable dog profile on the Berkeley Humane website. Her name was “Senga.” Each person said the same thing: “Look at her EAR!” Not only was this tiny, 14-pound, 14-week-old little peanut of a brindle adorable, but one ear stood straight up and the other drooped down — just like Rocket. We went to “just look at her” at their adoption event on September 21. (That always works, right? “We’ll just look” … yeah, sure.) Her tongue perpetually hung out the right side of her mouth. She would take about three steps, then fall over. Another three steps, fall over again. A newly healed scar slashed across her left cheek, and another ran from just below her mouth halfway down her throat. A shelter volunteer told us they believed she had been mauled in the face. She had also just been spayed. We fell in love instantly. And Lisbeth? She fell hard for Eric. While holding her, Eric looked at me and said, “We’re taking her home.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. I told him I thought she might have a neurological issue, and would probably be a special needs dog for the rest of her life. I asked if he was in it for the long haul. It was a silly question. The answer was already written all over his face. It was love at first sight. While we were filling out the adoption papers, the shelter told us that someone had dumped her at an overrun shelter in Stockton, already bursting at the seams with pit bull type dogs. An angel working there called Berkeley Humane and begged them to take her. They said yes. That same person then drove her all the way to Berkeley in their own car, just to give her a better chance at being adopted. (Later, when I interned at the shelter, I tried to find out who that angel was so I could thank them. But there was no record.) Now, anyone who knew Rocket was aware he could be VERY dog selective. Let’s just cut to the chase — he could be a bonafide jerk. He’d either LOVE another dog, or he’d really, really, realllllly HATE them (usually the latter). So we weren’t sure how he’d feel about sharing his home, his humans, and all their attention with someone new. We set up a meet-and-greet on neutral ground in the courtyard of our apartment building. Friends gathered. I gripped Rocket’s leash tightly while Eric approached with tiny Lisbeth on her temporary leash. They moved a bit closer to one another, then paused. I think every single human held their breath. Then, without hesitation, Lisbeth walked right up to Rocket and licked him. Smack dab on the kisser. The rest was history. Best friends. Inseparable. Brother and annoying little sister. The following day, at her first vet appointment, we found out that not only had she been mauled and recently spayed, but she also had a serious bacterial infection and a terrible case of pneumonia. No wonder she kept falling over. Despite this knowledge, I still thought she might have special needs. But bless her indomitable little heart … while her tongue still occasionally hung out of her mouth, and sometimes she bit it while eating, she just kept getting better and better. She grew more muscular, strong (my God, did she ever pull on her leash), and healthy every day. Despite being a total derp and a little hellraiser, she was an enthusiastic learner. At Circus Class, she picked up all the tricks like a pro. And she absolutely devoured her training sessions with Eric (along with thousands of high-value treats). (Oh hey, just a side note: About a week or so after we adopted her, that ear of hers … the one reaching up to the heavens like Rockets? You know, that ear that inspired our friends to share her profile with us? Well, it just … drooped. We were all conned, I tell you! Duped into pure love! A love grifter!) ************************************************************* She changed our lives in more ways than we can count. These are just a few of the things we’ll always remember about her: ******* No Concept of Personal Space ******* From the moment we brought her home to our apartment, official Velcro-dog Lisbeth always had to be touching either Rocket or one of her humans. If she couldn’t actually sit on Rocket, she’d at least lie next to him and touch his paw. Even after we finally bought a house (for them), with all that space inside and in the backyard, Lisbeth would still sidle right up next to Rocket and stick to him like super glue. She was our shadow wherever we went (even into the bathroom). At night, when we’d watch TV, from the time she was just 14 pounds to when she was over 60, she had to be lying between us (touching us, of course) or sprawled out on top of us. She slept between us every night in bed. I never thought a king-sized bed could feel so small. (But now, it’s way too big.) ******* Champion Beggar ******* No one could resist her sweet face. Lisbeth had a way of getting ANYTHING she wanted (especially from Eric). She would stand in front of us and STARE. INTO. OUR. SOULS. until we submitted and got her a treat. What human with a heartbeat could ever resist that face? Impossible. While her begging game was strong, our respectful, rule-following Lisbeth never (NOT ONCE in her eleven years) ate something that wasn’t offered to her first. You could set a juicy steak on the floor (not that we ever would, because that would just be cruel), and Lisbeth wouldn’t dare touch it until you told her it was okay. That said, this rule didn’t apply on walks in the park, where she would happily garbage-mouth anything she found. Goose poop was a fine delicacy. ******* Antagonizer ******* She constantly pestered Rocket to play. He acted as though he was incredibly put out by the whole situation, but he loved it. (Eric and I have said for years that Rocket pretended to hate it, but secretly, he adored every single moment of it. Like some creepy old dude.) In response, he’d play-bite her, and she’d launch into her patented swirling, whirling dervish of a butt swing. It would go on and on and on until, finally exhausted, they’d both just plop down. ******* Queen Dowager of Anxiety ******* Lisbeth was afraid of just about everything. Plastic bags? Terrifying. Backpacks, large purses, rolling suitcases? Even worse. Skateboards? Oh, come on now. People standing still while talking on their phones? Call the authorities. Football games on TV? Find the nearest table to cower under. Vet visits? Get me the heck outta here, lady. ******* Loyal Friend ******* When Lisbeth made a dog or human friend, that was it. She had decided: friends for life. And if you were her friend, she’d shake with excitement at the mere sight of you. A neighbor once said Lisbeth had so much love in her, her body couldn’t physically contain it. She wouldn’t just want to be WITH you; it was like she was trying to wiggle INSIDE you. (Honestly, it felt like she wanted to crawl under your skin.) Whenever anyone questioned her behavior in these moments, I always said she was just trying to get even closer to their heart. ******* Model Pack Walker ******* After Rocket passed away, we were all heartbroken. Lisbeth became incredibly depressed. I started taking her on daily 4–5 mile walks to tire her out and give her some stimulation. But no matter what I did, it could never replace being with a dog friend. Eric found a dog walker named Zane on Yelp, and Lisbeth instantly fell in love with him. He welcomed her into his pack, and she started walking with her new buddies three times a week. Now, back to her issues with personal space… Every time she got into the van, she would enthusiastically greet every single dog with a kiss. And every single time, I’d hear Zane say, “It’s okay, Mijo. She’s just excited and saying hello.” (Mijo was never impressed.) Meeting Zane and walking with his pack, without exaggeration, changed her life, and ours too. She became a brand new dog. She even made a pack bestie, another senior dog named Roxy. I affectionately dubbed them “The Golden Girls”. When we went on vacation, Lisbeth stayed with Zane, his wife (also a dog walker), and their dogs. She claimed one of their recliners as her own. Knowing she was with him gave me the rare and priceless gift of being able to enjoy a vacation without worrying about her every second of the day. ******* Snake Handler ******* If Lisbeth had a religion, she would have been a snake handler. Every night, she’d give Eric *the eyes* until he asked her to go get her snake. It’s truly astonishing that one type of squeaky toy could bring so much joy to a single being for so many years. No matter how many times he threw or squeaked those snakes, she always reacted as if it were the very first time. Every squeak made her jump, completely baffled that this toy she’d known for years could still produce such a noise. And every toss led to a full-speed sprint, a triumphant retrieval, a vigorous shake, and a joyful dance back to him. Over and over again, until she finally took a break for water and then collapsed in happy exhaustion. (Let’s be clear, it was not just one snake. She destroyed one after another, only to be replaced by yet another.) ******* Olympic Swimmer ******* Years ago, on a walk through Pt. Isabelle, Lisbeth followed a new dog friend straight into the Bay without a second thought. Whether it was Lake Tahoe with the kids, the Bay, or a pool, from that moment on it was nearly impossible to get our aquatics enthusiast out of the water. In the backyard, she would carefully walk down the steps into our pool (never jump), swim to retrieve a floating toy, then proudly jump out with it. Next came what family and friends came to know as her “sprinkler tail,” wagging happily all the way back to you. She would drop the toy right in front of you and ask for another round. We often had to hide the toy to get her to stop because she would have gone for seven hours straight if we let her. ******* Chockful of Health Issues ******* Lisbeth visited the ER more times than I can even remember. Unfortunately, she faced numerous health challenges — from allergy issues to chronic rhinitis, polyarthritis (even at the age of four), bouts of hypoalbuminemia, bridging spondylosis in her spine, thoracolumbar and lumbosacral disc disease (for which she received laser therapy), a heart murmur, and a mast cell tumor removed from her belly. A few years ago, she got hold of a rat someone had poisoned in our neighborhood, was in hospital for two days, and her gut was an absolute mess ever since. She developed severe gastrointestinal disease, chronic diarrhea, gastritis, and small intestinal bacterial overgrowth (SIBO). She took numerous prescriptions and supplements, including one specially lab-formulated for her. Then, last September, she narrowly survived pancreatitis. She spent four days in the ICU, and we believe the only reason she made it was that we physically took her out of the stressful hospital and brought her home, where she was enveloped in love (the ICU vet agreed). In our feeble attempt to prevent another pancreatic attack, she was evaluated and advised on care by one of UC Davis’ internal specialists. I cooked her a low-fat, home-cooked diet with a novel protein, specially formulated by the UC Davis Nutrition Service. For a while, that diet really put the pep back in her step. She was energetic, happy, and playful — more so than she had been in years. Unfortunately, over the last few months, she started to lose weight and muscle mass, and more recently, her appetite diminished. She declined quickly, and in the week before she passed away, she had three seizures. I believe the fourth one, that dreaded Saturday evening, was just too much for her little body to handle. ************************************************************* Thank you to everyone who ever loved Lisbeth. Thank you to Angi, Ian, Natalie, Xander, Shelley, Zane, Lisa, Lindsay, Christy, Dana, Jenn, and everyone else who loved her up close and from afar. I am certain that without Dr. Miller, Dr. Troy, and all the wonderful humans at Muller Veterinary Hospital, we would have lost both Rocket and Lisbeth so much earlier. They gave us two gifts we can never repay. But if not for Eric, we would never have been able to provide either Rocket or Lisbeth with their home (built in 1964 and seemingly made just for them). And without Eric, they would never have had access to everything needed to support their medical care and wellbeing. They also would never have had the love and care they so deeply deserved. Thank you, Eric. No wonder why you were (are) Lisbeth’s hero. You’re one of mine too. Lisbeth, I truly hope you’re somewhere right now, annoying the heck out of Rocket. And if he’s pretending he’s not amused, we know he’s loving every second of it. We love you with all our hearts.