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To aMUSE People -- and Pets!

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Pet eulogies for cats and doggies...with the occasional hamster as well

Losing a pet is one of the hardest trials facing those of us who love them.  It helps to recognize that we all leave the planet at some point, and that the process is natural.  But at the time, it hurts.  Enormously.  And often, it hurts for a long time.  A friend recently said to me, "I can't believe I still miss our little dog Peter.  He died four years ago, and I still think of him often, and miss him very much." 
 

We all still pine for the furry friends we've lost over the years.  But it really does help to write about them.  And paying as much attention as possible to new fuzzy faces who've come into our homes is a joyful way to bring comfort and laughter back into our daily lives. 
 

Adopting a new cat or dog (or bird, turtle or snake) really helps fill the awful void. Knowing we can help an orphan who oftentimes has been abandoned or mistreated by humans is another thing that helps recover from the loss of a pet. 
 

Below you'll find the beginning of tributes to pets I personally have known and loved.  You'll be finding more as I can get the stories up in this space.  You'll also find some links below to stories young and senior participants in "Pawprints" classes and writing clubs have written. And stories and photos sent in by visitors to our site.
 

I hope you find some comfort here, if you have lost a pet.  And, please, if you have a story you'd like to share, scroll down to the box at the bottom of this page and send it in.  We're posting visitor stories and photos and would be pleased to add yours.

Rapscallion P. Cat, a.k.a., Rapper

I lost him many years back.  For a long time, he appeared to me in dreams, and I was always so glad to see him.  We lived together from the time he was six months old until he died at 21. 
 

Rapper was an amazing cat. Extremely smart, very funny.  When we lived in New Orleans, and he was just a kid, he used to make sure he had my attention, keep a watch on me while he approached one of the plants I tended in the apartment, jump into the pot, turning to watching for my inevitable approach, and dart off at the very last minute, just when I was about to grab him. 
 

He was clearly playing, and I could never really get mad at him, a fact of which he was well aware, of course. 

I am writing this to send a salute to the guy, one of the best pussycats ever.

Ina's Pussycat, Star of Pawprints

Sascha Cat

It saddens me greatly to announce that dear Sascha Cat died in February of this year.  She was a light and protectress, a devil in a cat suit, loveable and gorgeous.  She was too young to go. 
 

"Little" Sasch (she actually weighed 14 pounds) was the daughter of Silverberry, a fantastic, huge Prussian blue long hair, about whom I will also be writing, and Tamba Cat, all featured characters in "Pawprints."  Sasch was one of six kids.  You can see a picture of Tamba with Sasch and her siblings by clicking here. 

Sasch was a Maine Coon, one of the most appealing of all cat breeds.  Her personality, luxurious fur and markings were equally outstanding. 
 

COMING:  Stories of more wonderful cats and dogs with whom we've been privileged to live, from Ina and from kids and other grownups.

Tamba

Boon Companion of Ina
1991-2008

Yoda
Beloved Friend of Elaine Giampietro

My beloved Yoda crossed the Rainbow Bridge on Sept. 16th. We had a magical morning where he left the foot of my bed (his "spot" for 5 days) and laid down on my chest - heart to heart. We had an amazing "be with." I thanked him for bringing such fun to my life and recalled many of our adventures in many states. I assured him that Nana (my mom) would be giving him "many kitty lovings and scratches."

He left my chest and snuggled into my neck, his breathing labored. I told him he didn't have to wait for Dr. Bruce to come and he could go at any time. We stayed like that for another 30 minutes and then he stretched and went back to the foot of my bed.

Dr. Bruce Passamani, the vet, called at 8:00 and said he'd be over between 11:30 and 12:00. I decided to leave the bed and shower, etc. Shirley Warner arrived with white roses and a fabulous "kitty card." She gave Yoda many hugs. My physician's assistant friend, Sigrid, arrived and spent time with both us. Ammi arrived with a fantastic framed photo of me and Yoda. My neighbor Anita, her daughter Chloe and their dog Rowdy all dropped by to hang out.

By now, Yoda was feeling social and leaped off the bed and went outside to sit in his chair! We followed suit and sat around the picnic table recalling Yoda stories. "Remember the time Yoda....." He got many hugs and scratches from "the Aunties"; he loved being the center of attention.

Dr. Bruce arrived at 12:15 and we needed to bring Yoda into the house so he could shave a bit of his leg for the injection. Sigrid took Yoda in her arms and carried him inside to the kitchen. She gave him to me and I held him as he got his shot.

I continued to hold him for about 40 minutes as we sobbed. Sigrid went outside and dug his resting place. I brought Yoda to my bed where I had some alone time. I cut the pant leg of an old pair of warm-up pants and surrounded Yoda with them. "The Aunties" each spent time with him before we carried him outside. We laid him on a bed of sunflowers and said some prayers. We covered him and then planted a hydrangea plant on the top. The Aunties remained with me as other friends came by all afternoon. Ammi sent out for California Pizza and stayed with me until late in the evening.

The next morning my friends Jack & Susan came over with a darling Terra Cotta-colored granite statue of a sly kitty lounging on a stack of books! Jack placed it close to Yoda and said some lovely Buddha prayers. They told me that the Buddhists pray for 44 days and do "merits" for the departed's soul (similar to random acts of kindness).

Friends, it's been magical. I saw Yoda run across the room a few days ago and that night I dreamed a small black kitty with a little white spot under his neck ran down a long hall and jumped onto my lap!

I'm off to the Cape in 10 days to attend my 10th high school reunion (gawd, how time flies). When I return, my new kitty will be waiting for our next adventure.

As I read this, I hope it isn't TMI (Too Much Info).....I do tend to wax poetic....

Love to you,

Lainerz
“Friendship doubles our joy and divides our grief."

NOTE FROM INA: This story touches my heart, as Yoda was dear to me personally as well, and I feel so keenly for his human, my good friend. I would like to say to anyone out there reading this that I believe Elaine couldn't have come up with a better way to say good-bye to a loved one. As hard as it is when one of our furry friends is so close to the end, perhaps her example could serve us to help usher our own dear friends into the next stage of being.
 

Casey

Early this morning, Friday, 3/10/2006, Casey passed onto a better life. I can see her running, barking, playing, and eating to her delight in doggie heaven. I am thankful that she is in a better place and now has her physical capabilities back.

Stephanie, Joey and I will really miss her. She has been with us for 12 years, so just like a member of our family. Joey was 7 and Stephanie was 12 when she joined our family on Easter. I will miss my walking buddy in the morning - she so loved those walks, and she certainly got me engaged and committed to this as an exercise. She was such a sweet, caring, and fun-loving dog. It's pretty funny to see a 12 year-old dog chasing her tail!

Joe came home from school last night, so all three of us could be with her. And Tom was here and provided such great support for all of us. Early this morning I prayed for her to find peace, and now she is there. We feel very blessed to have shared these 12 years with Casey.

Attached are a few favorite pictures of our wonderful, crazy Casey. We love her and will keep her memories in our hearts.

Laura, Stephanie and Joey
 

Hunter
In Memorium

My brother’s cat died early this morning. It was about 20 years ago that Hunter appeared on Dave’s doorstep, a stray black cat who proudly announced he had chosen my brother’s for his adopted family. Hunter was named for a hockey player who fought all the time and he lived up to his new name. As anyone who’s had a cat or dog or pet has experienced, Hunter increasingly became a vibrant part of the family. He lived in three different houses with them, was around for the birth of my niece and waited for Dave every night as he came home from the newspaper, often past midnight. They would sit together, watching TV, eating. Hunter had opinions on everything; he seemed to have an inner sense of taste and common sense. Once, when Paris Hilton was on TV, he turned to Dave with a look that suggested “what the heck is she supposed to be.”

Hunter had the usual habits. He got a piece of fish every Friday, and would mooch off any visitors that came by, but yet he was his own cat. I always likened him to Steve McQueen, the essence of cool, maybe with a little bit of Bogart’s cynicism. My niece would scoop him up in her tiny arms, barely able to hold him and he didn’t struggle. Although his look suggested he’d rather be somewhere else, his patience wouldn’t give out. Except one time, when he’d had enough of her hugging, he swung and hit her on the jaw with a solid right paw that had been declawed years before. Rica let him go, turned in shock and said, “Hunter punched me.” There was even a little red mark for a few moments.

Hunter also had his favorites when it came to music and movies. Of course he liked Cat Stevens, but he was drawn to country singer Kasey Chambers lately and Texas songbird Patty Griffin. Movies were his love, the usual ones, “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” “Cat People” (the original not the remake), “The Aristocats,” “Harry and Tonto,” “That Darn Cat.”

Hunter went through many illnesses and used his nine lives as well as one could hope for. He had leukemia and Dave and I managed to find the money for his special treatment. Dave used to take him to Dr. Barabbas, a human doctor who moonlighted as a veterinarian. I always said it was better to have a human doctor treating animals than the other way around.

Hunter loved the cold, crisp winter air of Calgary, and he would go out to patrol the yard and check on things. He never really wandered anywhere else. He got along well with the other cat in the house, Duchess, a white and black cat, much younger, less world-weary, but he understood that and gave her space. While Duchess stalked birds, Hunter sat back with a look that suggested he’d long outgrown that kind of thing and grown into a more philosophical view on life.

As I get older, any death seems to affect me more strongly, most likely a reaction to the mortality that I and my generation face now that we are running towards our 60’s. As Hunter aged, he had many of the same problems as old people do. Dave called once to say Hunter had done a hat trick, 3 “goals”: he threw up, urinated and pooped all in the same place. Recently he had been to the vet’s and refused to let them take tests, and even at his age, fought them until they finally gave up. Hunter himself was not one to give up.

Last night Dave and I talked for a long time, realizing that the time was near. Hunter was finally succumbing to his age. Experts say cats don’t usually die peacefully for some reason, their deaths are often violent and frightening to humans and they mostly die alone when not put to sleep. But this time, Hunter went peacefully, a testament to his life-long character, the essence of cool. Steve would have approved.

Last year I lost a dear friend, Morrie, who was 93 years old. Like Hunter, he was a tough guy, street smart and on top of his game. Both he and Hunter gave me a great sense of life and persistence and I miss them both.

Doctors estimated Hunter at around 23 years old, in human years around 106.

Jim Makichuk
 

Nova Echo Gomis - Steele

Earl Grey
In Memorium

Our beloved cat, Earl Grey, passed away November 26,2007, at home peacefully due to kidney failure. He was almost 20 years old.

We were very lucky that he adopted us many years ago and he was a delight, friendly to all, and will be greatly missed.

Dr. Baum of Center Sinai Animal Hospital kept him in good shape, even through his kidney problems, so much longer than anyone could have asked.

Dr. Baum and the staff at the hospital have always been so supportive and could not have been more caring and helpful in Earl Grey's last days.

I have been witness to so many miracles from Dr. Baum with a few of my cats over the years (approximately 27 years), and am always amazed at his positive attitude and compassion, not only the animals but also with the pet owners.

Endless thanks to Dr. Baum and staff.

Margaret Cox & Al Schepps
 

IN LOVING MEMORY
Daisy

Our Daisy.....Always such a good girl! Not a mean bone in her body unless it was to protect her family. Now you are with your brother Winston and I'm sure you're having a good ole time together. We miss you already. You will always be remembered and always loved our sweet Daisy. Until we meet again....

From Deanna B
 

FREDDIE, BELOVED CAT OF FLO SELFMAN

NOTE: What you will read below is excerpted from an article written by Pam Vetter, a journalist who also works with families of celebrities and the rest of us folk to conduct one of a kind final services.

The gist of the story here is that Flo decided to donate Freddie's body to science to help further cancer research, and Vetter quotes veterinarians on issues potential donors might want to weigh in considering this option. Scroll down to the end of this piece for a link to the entire article.

* * *

Pet owner Flo Selfman, Public Relations Consultant in Los Angeles, remembers the path that led her to make the decision of donating her cat's body to veterinary science.

"I adopted Freddie from Pet Pride shelter in West Los Angeles. He was about two years old. He was a perfect, wonderful cat, one of those 'soul mate' animals. He was a short-haired tabby with tiger markings on his face and four white paws on long legs," Selfman said. "One Saturday in July 1997, I had been out all day. When I returned about 4:30, I heard an ungodly moaning from my bedroom closet. It was Freddie, and I had no idea what was wrong with him. I rushed him to the emergency vet. They kept him overnight, rehydrated him, x-rayed him, and recommended that I have ultra-sound."

An ultrasound revealed diffused liver cancer and Selfman faced choices.

"I took him to a cancer specialist -- a wonderful woman named Dr. Sue Downing, now at ACC & IM in Culver City. She did not recommend chemotherapy (which I could not have afforded), so I took Freddie to a holistic vet, Dr. Marc Bittan, in West Los Angeles. He recommended various things, including milk thistle, which Freddie could not keep down so I couldn't give it to him; shark cartilage, which I could not afford; and some other stuff including Pepcid. Yes, 'people' Pepcid, ¼ tablet. Thus began a year and a half nightmare. Some doctors suggested I put Freddie down, but I didn't think it was time, as I know he still had some quality of life. When he couldn't climb over the step to the litter, I rigged up a litter pan on the bathroom floor by putting litter in a jellyroll pan. I kept a dish of water near my bed so he wouldn't have to go all the way to the kitchen for water. I gave him baby food with a dab of liquid cat vitamins. And so it went. I did have to have him rehydrated a couple of times, and learned to do it myself. After about a year of this, I thought, 'This has to mean something.' After all, he had a particular kind of cancer, being treated a certain way, with the holistic vet." Selfman remembered, "Then I thought about my parents, who had willed their bodies to USC Medical School."

Selfman thought maybe she could do the same thing with Freddie's body and began to research the option.

"Eventually I was led to UC Davis. I knew they had a fine vet school, and discovered that they had a Memorial Donation Program, plus various other services for people losing their pets, including classes and workshops, grief recovery, etc. I was assigned a third-year vet student, Pam Wittenberg from the Student Animal Welfare Committee, and we talked about what I wanted. I didn't want to just donate his body for cutting practice. Because he had a specific medical condition, and was treated a specific way, I thought they could learn something special from that. Freddie's liver/tumor grew throughout this time; I used to call it his 'grapefruit.' Breaks my heart to think about it. Maybe I should have put him down, but I just couldn't," Selfman explained. "I made arrangements with two different vets: my regular vet in West Los Angeles, if Freddie died during their regular hours; and their Los Angeles branch, if he died over the weekend. The deal was, I would bring the body in and they would keep it on ice until the vet students from UC Davis would actually drive down and pick it up."

At the age of 13, Freddie died on February 6, 1999.

"At the end of the school term, I and other donors received a form letter from UC Davis expressing appreciation for the donation. The letter also said that, if I wanted to know specifically how my animal's body was utilized, to let them know. I did want to know, and I received a second letter explaining it. Freddie's care cost me several thousand dollars over the year and a half. I have a receipt labeled 'care of deceased' from the regular vet for $20.00, so that's what they charged me to keep the remains until UC Davis picked it up." Selfman added, "I sent notes and calls to all my 'cat' friends. What I found absolutely amazing was the number of cards and calls of condolence. While I loved them, I can say that I didn't receive a fraction of these expressions when either of my parents died! I guess people find it easier to express deep emotion over an animal than over a human."

Reprinted with permission from Pam Vetter and Flo Selfman.

To find out more about donating a pet's body for the purpose of scientific research in disease prevention and treatment,  http://www.americanchronicle.com/articles/65768
 

IN LOVING MEMORY
Kyle

Kyle, my first German shepherd, died peacefully on the 20th of January, 2009. He was born on the 23rd of December, 2000, a true Christmas present. He was taken too early from us, only eight years old. On the 16th of December, 2008, he was rushed to the vet’s with bloat which turned out to be a ruptured spleen that had a 4cm tumor on it. It was removed and all seemed fine, but little over a month later he collapsed whilst out for a walk. I knew instantly something was wrong. We took Kyle to the vet’s and they said it was his liver. The cancer had spread to it and it ruptured. Nothing could have been done to save his life so he was peacefully put to sleep. The hardest part is knowing that this is what killed my last German shepherd, Roscoe, who was only 9 years old. Both are running free in heaven along with Monty and Rebel.

R.I.P All of you run free, my angels.

Amy Butterfield, UK
 

TAZ PARRE-MEYER
In Memoriam

Taz was a great dog! Always happy to see you, wagging his tail, and wearing a smile. His fathers, Aaron Parre and Brandon Meyer, raised him well.

Taz spent many weekends with Grandpa Mike helping do yard work and of course creating some along the way. He loved chasing water from the garden hose nozzle and running the fence to let skaters on the sidewalk know this was HIS yard!

As a good guard dog, Taz walked many miles with Grandma Becky, enjoying the pit stop at the grassy hill to roll down and scratch his back.

He enjoyed chewing his bone whiled relaxing on the office floor, watching Grandma Becky read e-mails and books. And never missed meal time!

Taz is in heaven, and his Great Grandpa Rex is taking care of him now. Stay out of trouble, you two!

From Michael & Rebecca Parre, Roseville, CA
 

IN LOVING MEMORY
STEWART

My Stewart. I never wanted a cat, didn't understand them, and was solidly a "dog person" when I started working at the humane society six and one-half years ago. I was showing a client through the "stray cat ward," after 6 months of working there, and spotted this little 3 week old orphaned kitten huddled face-first in the corner of his stainless steel cage. I had not been "drawn" to any of the other cats or kittens until this time. After I had finished walking the client through, looking for his lost cat, I went back to see this little bean that had called out to me. He pleaded with me, with his eyes, to help him. I immediately went to the foster care coordinator to tell him that I had to "foster" this particular cat. Little did I know, he was scheduled to be euthanized the next day, as nobody had claimed him and he was ill with an upper respiratory infection. Well, to make this long story short, he came home with me the next day, and never left. He has shown me how these wonderfully magnetic, mysterious, intelligent creatures called cats have worked their way into so many people's hearts, over so many years. I love him with all my heart, and he will forever be my little Bean Man!

Submitted by Stacy, Milwaukee, WI
 

IN MEMORIUM
LUCY

I would just like to say goodbye to my cat Lucy. She passed away today, and she was a wonderful friend. I just wanted to say a few words about her life. She made all her friends happy to know her. What a beautiful cat she was.

Thank you,
Mara

Submitted by Mara, Victoria, BC

In Loving Memory of KING

Eulogy For King

We remember our trip one gray wet rainy day
      to a farmhouse out past Lamar so far away.
We expected a pom baby, all fluffy and small
and instead greeted Fat Boy.  He just laughed at us all.

It was love at first sight. Our hearts he just won.
     And he joined our lives as Miki's sweet son.
His beautiful white coat and those gorgeous brown eyes,
that big old wet tongue and his loud snoring sighs.
 

Well. that part was a lie.  He pottied wherever he wished.
We were always mopping puddles and scooping up icks...
but he just kept smiling and wagging that tail.
    Potty training for Fat Boy was to no avail.

    and he worked as the sentinel to guard house and yards.
He loved all of his family, treasured all big and small
    and he challenged all strangers with his big angry calls....

That melted to smiles and to jumping with glee.
He was more a big lover that a fighter, you see.
As a brother to Foxy he exceeded the mark
as he teased and enticed her to play with his barks.
He stole all her toys and the battles were bold....
and he let her win always because play was his goal.

They tormented the cats and kept Grammy awake
    and they barked at all movements just for barks' sake...
And when Grammy had taken all Grammy could take
     and yelled, "You guys be quiet, I'm sleeping for God's sake!

They just ignored all the calls and jumped in the middle of mad Grammy
     with kisses for all. 

At the end of the day when his Mom went to bed
    He looked forward to "here, Fat Boy!"  It just went to his head.
He jumped into bed amid "box of rocks" and "junk in the trunk"
   and he knew he was loved and returned it in kind....
cuddling up to his mommy, her loving to find.

We all loved our dear King, our big Box of Rocks,
    Our bubbly big Fat Boy and his Junk in the Trunk.
Did he bound up to Heaven?  Of this there is not doubt...
     because DOG is GOD backwards, named with love by our Lord
and at the gates into Heaven, there's a gold doggie door
      and when it was time for King's eternity to begin...
God opened his great arms and welcomed King IN.

Sent to us by King's loving family:   Miki, Roberta, Mandi, Weldon, David, and Miranda

Katmandu: The End of the Journey: November 2010.

Today I honor Katmandu, who has gone to kitty heaven where all the good cats go. There have been many goodbyes in my life. They don't get any easier. But what does improve is my understanding of death and the need to let go and not prolong life when there is no chance of recovery. Humans have trouble letting go. Animals are here to teach us how to do it. If we listen to what they need, and don't get caught up in what we need, they will tell us what we need to know. And they will tell us what they need and deserve from us.

I am sharing this to avoid the stress of repeated explanations and for those who would like to know why I had to say goodbye to my beloved boy so suddenly today.

I was in Las Vegas for three days this week to see friends. If you know me, you know I don't particularly care for Vegas. But I do value my friends. When I returned, Mandu was agitated, ravenous for water (out of the sink) had ulcerated bleeding gums, and bad breath. He had lost weight (now 6 pounds, down from 8). This was a dramatic change from the cat I left last week who was fine (I thought). Animals do miss us. They do stress when we're gone. I don't doubt he was ill, but the stress may have pushed the envelope.

In May, he was diagnosed with slightly elevated kidney function and the low protein diet we gave him seemed to improve things. He ate, was loving, communicative, looked great and was not ill. I fully expected this ten year old rescue who has been with me for five devoted years to be around another 5 or 6 years. Life is full of surprises.

Now his kidneys were failing. Yesterday under great duress he visited my caring vet Dr. Schwartz for blood work up. It looked quite serious. Today I got the report and set the events in motion. The rule is: we do not allow suffering. He was stressed. His numbers were way over the top. There is no recovery.

At 5 AM after thinking all night, I made the decision that there would be no heroics or prolonged and futile struggle. I know how to let go. I know how to say goodbye with gratitude and love. Our animals deserve to be released before they lose their dignity. I would not stress him by forcing him into the carrier and to the clinic again. My vet referred me to a wonderful, sensitive and calm vet who came to the house to help release my boy from his discomfort. Lupus, an auto-immune disorder was suggested as a possible underlying cause. It was a very smooth and gentle transition. The vet said, "We should all be so lucky." I agree.

He is at peace.

Now let me tell you about the gifts he brought to me.

I wrote the letter below to the rescue person who saved a feral cat and housed him for the first five years of his life. It was my thank you to her. And now it turns out to be my final gratitude to the Kat-Man.
 

KATMANDU IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

Dear Auntie Suzanne:

I talk incessantly about my love affair with Mandu, and how much you loved him to give him to me, and how you cried to have to part with him, and my daughter said I should write and tell you this.

He was the surprise of my life.

Katmandu is in love with me, totally devoted. No one ever loved me like he does. He meets me at front door and follows me around 'till bedtime, then sleeps (on me) all night giving me kisses and drooling with passion. I realized that he was a cat I never would have chosen. I have liked the full coated tabbies, never the tuxedo cats. I would have missed him. The girl kitties are two in April, with the beautiful tabby look that I love, but are monsters, play all night, destroy the house. (I do love them, don't get me wrong.) They are locked out of my bedroom, and he and I like lovers stay there while they scratch and cry pathetically at the door. I get up and chase them, and two minutes later they're back. Even Mandu chased them out, and came back to bed. If I let them in, they will not sleep, they will play all night, and chase each other. My sleep is too erratic to cope with them in the bedroom. So they are banned. But he is not. He meows at me to tell me to hurry up and get to bed when I'm up too late. He sleeps attached to my body, and talks to me, and kisses me incessantly. Sometimes I have to tell him, "Go to sleep, it's too much already." And he listens to me. He is polite, clean, discreet, intelligent, and best of all he is nuts about me. It is not about food. He is at the front door before my key goes into the lock. He hears me leave my car and races down to meet me. He now lets me pick him up and kiss him anytime I want to, doesn't run away like he did at the beginning. He even has come to say hello to a few friends, but not too close, just hello. I think he is gorgeous. And the best cat I ever had. And I love him because I never had such devotion from any man, woman or child in my life.

So thank you beyond gratitude for this gift to the world. He has a microchip, and no shots, is healthy and happy. So now you know. Oh, and my daughter wanted you to know he has helped me through illness I have struggled with, always there for comfort.

I think with Holly (golden retriever), I was in love with her, she was never in love with me. I was a good playmate, and means to an end, but I went to her for affection, not the other way around. Mandu is in love with me, comes to me for affection, I don't go to him. Big lesson here. And I love him because he loves me so much. I give him top cat status here. He'll be eight in spring.

Anything he wants....Anything.

Thank you for this gift.

AND THANK YOU MANDU. As Auntie Karen said, "He was there at the right time."

Maybe there is an order in the universe, and not just chaos, or random happenings. Maybe Mandu completed his mission in short order, took care of me when I needed it, and his spirit has moved on to help others in need.

We have only the time we have to do what we need to do here. He certainly fulfilled his promise. We should all be so lucky.

Contributed by Marian Silverman, M.S.,MFT,LEP
Marian offers pet loss grief counseling services; private or workshops available.

Do you have a story of a pet who has passed away that you'd like to share?  You can send it to us here, as did the Steele family and others above. Please use the form below. We'll post as soon as possible and get back to you to let you know your pet's memorial has been posted. Thank you so much for sharing ... you will help others cope with the loss of their pets as well, we hope, yourself.

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