As a funeral director by profession, our dog received a proper and dignified burial. The funeral ceremony was of great help to our family and especially our children's ability to begin to deal with our grief. If you would please incorporate the following on your Web page, it would be most appreciated:
Our beloved red miniature poodle Zoey met her untimely death in a collision with a car directly in front of our home in Miami Shores, Florida on August 2, 1995. Born less than two years ago and only a mile away, she brought much happiness and joy to our family. Zoey's unconditional love taught us all to be a better family and we will miss her very much. Our grief will end but her memory will be always with your loving family.
David and Andrew and Jennifer and Ken
In loving Memory of Paxo
my rabbit, who passed away 14th March 1990
Paxo was three when he died. It was my eighth birthday party. I had him out of his cage and he was running around the garden. I chased him and chased him, 'til I chased him out of the gate. I chased him onto the road, where he stopped. Luckily no cars were there. I ran up to him and picked him up in my arms. I stayed there for ten minutes, when all of a sudden I heard my Uncle's van. He pulled into the driveway. I dropped the rabbit to run over to my Uncle. But, the rabbit got there first and was crushed under the wheels of my Uncle's van. My Uncle got out of the van and said "Oh, lovely, fresh rabbit, we'll have that for dinner." So instead of my birthday cake, I got rabbit pie. I cried all night.
Canterbury Kent, UK
Could I have a plot not in the sunshine but in some shade. Thank you.
Peanuts and Dumbo
Once, several years ago, I had two white mice named Peanuts and Dumbo. One got this weird disease where his fur fell out of his body and blood came out of the furless spots, and he bled to death. He was given a burial at sea (my toilet)... Dumbo, however, had a much worse fate; while my brother was playing with him in his room, a board game flew down from the closet, struck the poor mouse, and he died in a matter of seconds from a broken neck. He was given a heartbreaking funeral, and we gave him a cardboard tombstone that we waterproofed and it still stands out in the backyard. I wish I could say the same for the body... A few months ago I tried exhuming it, only to find that the body was no longer there.
Zachary Tigger Pyat 1989-1995
Zachary Tigger Pyat
Zack, Zack, he's a little maniac
Brainless, blue-eyed, burnt-toast
Beautiful, beautiful blue eyes!
The wonderful thing about Tiggers
Heater Junkie Sog that kitten!
Singing of the joys of traveling!
Admire my beautiful blue eyes!
Any attention is good attention - go ahead pull my ears!
Zack died December 9. He had succumbed to a virus he'd been carrying without any signs for at least 4 1/2 years. But it finally got him. His lungs filled up with fluid and the rest of him became dehydrated. We tried medication and draining the fluid from his lungs to no avail. Finally it was obvious that the end was merely a matter of time. Rather than have him suffer, decided to have him put to sleep. He died in my arms.
From the moment I first saw him in the pet store, he charmed me. Tiny little siamese (excuse siamese/balinese) kitten behind the glass opening and closing his mouth. (He was meowing but you couldn't hear the sound through the glass.) He loved laps. He loved being petted. He loved everyone. He loved attention and being the center of it. And everyone loved him back. He even converted some certified cat haters. He was top cat (or at least that's what he thought). He'd hold down new kittens and lick them until they were soggy. This after complaining under his breath that this household really didn't need another kitten. (Razz'm Frazz'm, damn fuzz-balls!) He was a seat stealer - a cushion cat. If you got up for some reason, you'd come back to find him in your seat. But he'd happily settle for your lap. He was loud. He had the stereotypical siamese meow - loud and raucous. I still have that. I captured his meow and digitalized it, and it's my alert/beep sound. I also have his purr and a digitalized movie of him 'shaking his head no.' And lots of pictures. He was Vlad's nemesis and eventually his friend. He never did get the dignified bit down though. He was thin-skinned and cold-blooded and liked nothing better than to curl up in front of an electric heater and bask until he was actually hot to the touch. He wasn't very smart, but he made up for it by being very friendly. He had the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen on a cat and the strangest stripey whiskers. He loved having his ears pulled more than anything else. He died in my arms while I pulled his ears one last time.
Zack, my little maniac, you were one of a kind. Which is both a wonderful thing and a terrible one. The most wonderful thing about Tiggers is that you're the only one. And I will miss you dreadfully. Goodbye Zack, I hope all the angels in heaven are spending plenty of time admiring your blue-blue eyes.
My Dog Daisy
Hi, my name is Justine Collitz. I was 7 years old when my best friend died. Her name was Daisy. She was a Bijon-Shitzu. It all started when Daisy had to go to the vet and get fixed -- she was only 6 months old. Daisy died because she got too much medicine to put her to sleep. I loved Daisy so much... She was my closest friend in my family. We always played together and snuggled up beside each other every day. I miss her so, so much... Even though it has been 5 months since she died, I think about her every single day. My mom and me made a grave for her near our house. I visit her grave often when I miss her. I cut some hair from her at the vet when she died, and I still keep it near my bed with her old leash.
Daisy, I'll never ever forget you,
Marti: February 1993 - September 1995
Marti was a beautiful black lab mix with the most expressive brown eyes you have ever seen. She was always happy, and she loved and trusted everyone completely. Her loving, trusting nature made her death all the more difficult to deal with, for she was poisoned by someone in my neighborhood. No doubt she licked the hand of the person who gave her the poison. I was away at college when she died. My parents were the ones to notice her symptoms and take her to the vet to be treated for what we all assumed was a stomach virus. By the time they realized that she had been fed rat poison, it was too late for anything to be done, although my vet tried his very best to save her. If I could have been there, I would have probably asked that she be euthanized to end her suffering a lot sooner. I miss her terribly, but I take comfort in knowing that she is not suffering anymore.
It has been long enough that I can look back and laugh at some of the funny things she used to do with fondness instead of pain. One memorable morning when she was still a puppy, I brought her inside for the night, because it had been very cold during the night. I was taking her back outside to the dog lot, so I could feed and water her and go to work. She ran away, and I chased her around the neighborhood before dawn, in the snow, in my pajamas and slippers. I stepped in a mud puddle in the process, and got my feet wet. Needless to say, I was frustrated with her at the time, but it seems funny now. Anyway, no matter what she did, she was usually good, and I never regretted having adopted her. I only wish I could have known her longer.
May 1985 - July 1995
I first received Mandy as a birthday gift from one of my family's closest friends. She was nine months old at the time. She always loved to be with anyone in my family. Her favorite thing to do was riding in the truck. When we would get ready to leave, she would go to the door and wait to be let in. If she couldn't go, she would give us the most pitiful stares. She also loved and helped protect our cat Buddy and her four kittens.
At age eight, she was diagnosed with lick granuloma. Although not serious, she always had to wear an Elizabethan collar. She received many stares and laughs from anyone who came to visit. As time passed we noticed that she was not her normal self. She was diagnosed with diabetes mellitus. We worked closely with her vet to regulate this. Finally, however her struggle was lost. At the age of ten, Mandy was put to sleep because of kidney failure. It was very difficult to give her up, even though I know she is so much better off in heaven.
Mandy, our entire family misses you greatly, and we will never forget how much happiness you brought into our lives! Your best friend, Conan, misses you even more than we do!
August 1981 - February 14, 1995
General came into my life when I was 10 years old. My mother got him and his sister, Silver Lady, from the shelter. He wasn't the smartest cat, but he was so gentle and loving and still holds a firm grip on my heart. He slept under the covers or on my pillow, often waking me with his paws combing my hair. He had the loudest purr of any cat I have ever known. He only needed to hear my voice, for the motor to start running. He loved to nibble on my earlobes (the left ear was his favorite). He wrapped his paws around my neck while he was chewing on my ear or licking my neck and face. Those hugs he gave me were our special time together. Any time he was scared, I could always pick him up and he would cling to me and start purring.
In the last year of his life, he had several episodes where he had to go to the Vet. He enjoyed traveling to the vet, and though intimidated by the different surroundings, he drew comfort from my presence and eagerly peered at the sites going by. While he didn't really like being handled by strangers, he was always a model patient, and adored by the Veterinary staff. During his last days, he visibly weakened, and stopped eating.
I miss General very much. Rarely a day goes by that he isn't in my thoughts. He was my trusted friend and confidant, and always brought me comfort even during the rough teenage years. He was the first one to greet me when I came home from work or school, and the first one there when I woke up. As the anniversary of his passing draws near, he is in my thoughts more often. It is especially difficult, as his sister is suffering from a fast-growing tumor in her face and is visibly deteriorating. While our other cats have helped fill the gap in my heart that General left, none will ever take his place.
"Toula", which is short for Petoula, only spent the last year of her life with us. She was a registered Bloodhound, which was originally sold as a pet because she was too big for the breed standard and was supposed to have been spayed, but she wasn't and through the first 5 years of her life she passed through 4 different homes where she was used strictly for breeding purposes.
She was kept in who knows what conditions, passed from kennel to kennel, until she ended up in Arkansas, where the original breeder found her after years of searching for her through the AKC breed registry. The final owner contacted the original owner and said that "he had this bitch but could not make any money off of her because she kept killing (laying on) her pups, and he would take her out and shoot her if they didn't come get her."
The original breeder drove all night to get her and brought her back and kept her for a year, trying to find a good "pet home" for her to live out her final days. That's where I came into the picture. I was accepted as an adopter through the bloodhound rescue group and brought all 120 pounds of "Toula" home in May of 1994.
When I brought her home the first night she walked into the bedroom, jumped up on the bed and indicated that's where she was sleeping, where was I going to sleep! What a joy she was even though I only had her for the last year of her life. She loved to swim in the pool and spend many hours just "laying around the house," bringing happiness and slime to all that met her. She passed away from liver cancer on Good Friday, 1995, and I still miss her. I still find slime and drool on my walls and ceilings ( if you've never had the experience of living with a bloodhound you just can't imagine the amount of slime and drool that you have to deal with each time they shake their heads) that reminds me of her.
I hope this is not too long, but would encourage anyone who is interested to please check with their local animal shelter and ask about breed rescue groups: they take in pure breeds of all kinds and find them good homes. While Toula had a hard first 5 years, I know that we were able to make her last year comfortable and happy... Thanks, pamb.
Copper 1994 - 1996
Copper was a reddish-brown Pomeranian. He was full of life and a thrill to be with. He never had an enemy. Everyone was his friend. The only reason I can think of is that little children in Heaven needed a pet more than we did. All we have left now is an empty feeling where there was once happiness. We all miss you and love you and won't ever forget you, Copper. I especially miss you because you were my little buddy.
Love you forever,
Billy Jack, Suzy, Jean, Billy Hiram
Our Poor Little Fishies
R.I.P. 1995 - 1995
It seems as though you were depressed when Tygger Boo died, but we did not realize that you even cared about her. It is too bad that she couldn't have stayed, but now all eight of you have joined her. We hope that you have fun in the afterlife. We kitties will miss torturing you.
Molly Sue, Kittery Koon, Thor-wegian, Alix Boo, Quimby Qoon, and Keegan Koon
Whiskey the Cat
I once had a cat named Whiskey. She was beautiful and fluffy and loved to cuddle up on your lap. She was very patient with young children and loved attention. When she went outside, she had a little group of cats that all lived in the houses down the street and went around the neighborhood with them. She loved to tease the cocker spaniel next-door, who was in a fenced-in yard.
But sadly, one day when she went to the river across the street and wanted to come home, a car hit her. The person in the car was very nice. He saw her collar and brought her to her veterinarian. When my family came to the doctor's office, she was very weak. The doctor had to put her to sleep. It was one of the saddest days of my life. Her red collar with the metal tag now hangs, and I will never forget Whiskey, not for the rest of my days.
Alanis the Fish
Alanis was a playful fish, who loved to listen to Alanis Morissette and Hootie and the Blowfish. After enduring the death of her friend, Hootie the Goldfish, she lived on for a whole week more, staring at his body. She will be greatly missed. She had the highest blood-alcohol level of any fish ever recorded: 1%. That could be why she swum crooked.... Anyway, she will be missed, and I'm guessing it's a she, it's just a fish anyway.
She is survived by her mother Jessica N. at Rhodes College.
My Dear Departed Friends
This is the story of two of the most beloved friends in the Rule household. Both lived full and healthy lives and were never sick until the end. The first one to cross over was a Lab-Shepherd mix named Bronco. His person, Marion, was 13 when he came to join the family. He was a smart and obedient dog and had a varied collection of tricks. He was a consummate baby sitter of every dog/puppy brought home, and a willing traveling companion. Though he was not Top Dog in the household pecking order, he was a kindred spirit to those who knew him.
Towards the end, he began to bury his cookies in the dirt. At first we thought this was another doggie game he played -- later it turned out that the cookies needed softening up. A lump began to grow under his left eye. When the vet (Dr. B) performed a biopsy, it was determined that it was cancerous and that he had 6 months to live. At first it was not discernable, but as the weeks passed, it grew increasingly larger. It appeared that the tumor was growing out of his eye.
He spent a quiet christmas and received all kinds of soft yummies for his presents. The family cats and new Great Dane puppy looked on as Bronco's condition grew worse. Then, on January 10, 1991, his chapter came to a close. He scratched the skin surrounding the tumor and bled profusely. Instead of letting him die in a pool of blood, Marion decided to take him to the vet to have him put to sleep. It was a fast relief from the pain that was obvious to him. Marion closed his eyes as she bid him a tearful farewell, and said that she would meet him on the other side.
Six years later his mentor followed him to the grave. The friend that followed was a 21 year old cat named Black Beauty. He was called Beauy (Booy) for short. Marion was 9 years old when she found him with a bunch of neighbor kids. They were tormenting him at the time. When the little girl asked if Marion wanted the kitty, she said YES!!! Beauy was the first cat and shared the home with a dachshund named Pepsi. He found great delight in attacking her tail and following her around like a shadow. When he turned 3, he was given a new feline friend named Tigger. Tigger used to ambush Beauy every chance he got. The tormentor always became the tormented.
In November of 1978, Beauy and his family moved to Aurora, Colorado, from Colorado Springs. For 15 years, he never meowed. All he ever said was Eh, Eh, Eh. Then one day Marion's father, Curt, decided that the cat needed to learn how to meow. Once Beauy had the cry mastered, no one could shut him up. His meow sounded more like "OW!!!" Beauy out lived 2 dogs and several cats that briefly found sanctuary in the Rule household. Beauy held dominion over every one and every thing. He was a very regal feline, and ruled the house like a fine old king.
In May of 1995, he was diagnosed with HyperThyroidism. At first, it was not thought of as serious since many people and animals have lived for years with the condition. Then in early January, Beauy collapsed in Marion's arms as she was giving him his pill. He promptly threw up blood and later that day he was rushed to the vet. After extensive testing, it was discovered that he had a very large tumor on the stomach. He was given 2 weeks to live. Exactly 2 weeks later, Beauy was put to sleep. He had grown so week that he could not eat or take himself to the litter box. Instead of watching him suffer, Marion took him to the vet to be released from his earthly torment. He is now in heaven with Bronco and Pepsi, and awaits the rest of his beloved family to join him in paradise. Beauy and Bronco are survived by 2 cats, Tigger (19), Boat Kitty (6), 2 dogs, Maximum Overdrive (6), Mookie (5) and 1 horse, Bahj-Rha (10).
We miss you terribly, Beauy and Bronco. You were the best friends a girl could ever have. May you rest in peace. I will always love you.
Marion M. Rule
Cleopatra: Queen of Denial
Although Cleo came into this world as a cute lil' white puppy, she knew (and made sure everyone else knew) that she was indeed the fifth child in our family. She absolutely refused to believe she was a dog. At dinner time, she would inevitably jump onto someone's chair at the dinner table, and when my mom would yell, "Cleo! Get down!", she would always look at her like, "What's your problem?" Cleo never listened to anyone, unless you had food and pretty much did whatever the hell she wanted to. We all agreed that's why she lived to the ripe old age of 16 (that and all the peanuts my Dad would give her...kept her pretty regular and cancer-free). Cleo was basically demanding, spoiled, bratty and yes, at times, downright snotty. But she was also the most loving dog I've ever known. Maybe it's not so bad thinking you're human. We still miss you Cleo... you'll be happy to know your memory and image is venerated on a daily basis.
Arianne Sirius Arecibo
July 12, 1981 - January 31, 1996
Arianne, a white German Shepherd, lived over 14 years. In that time, we drove to Denver twice, she spent my wedding night in a fancy hotel, she went on David Letterman in 1987, and she was my best friend. Making the decision to let her sleep was the most difficult thing I have ever done. Her life ended this morning at 9:21 AM. The pink liquid went into her vein and before the injection was completed, she had quit breathing. She was ready to rest. Her hips hurt too much and the tumor in her abdomen had wracked her frail body to the point of constant exhaustion. Bach, our 5 year old 120lb black/red German Shepherd, tried to play with her constantly; hitting her with his butt, snapping and jumping in front of her. Now he sits at his food bowl and looks for the nod from her to eat. He will grow through this. I only hope the pain that now lives so deep in my soul will heal and I too will grow.
Sleep well Arianne. Thank you for a lifetime of pleasure. I love you.
In Memory Of B.N.
our beautiful black and white cat
Born March of 1981 -- Gone to God's Purrfect Place in July of 1994
We know you gave us all the love you had in your heart. We couldn't help but feel it. We could never quite get all the fear out of you which was built up during your first few years of life, which you spent outdoors. Our only regret is that we were never able to hold you in our arms and cuddle you. The love that emitted from you was undeniable -- even without being able to hold you. We miss you very much, B.N..
Bob, Chris, Blackie, Scud!, Pistachio, Spott and Simba
Thumpper was loved and cared for by seven loving and caring people. He was white with red eyes and very cute. He used to come up to you if you were feeling sad. He would come over to you while you were watching the telly and lick you, or just jump up and say hello. We love you Thumpper, and you will be missed dearly.
Matthew P. Cox
Oct 1987 - Jan 4, 1996
I will never forget you my orange and white Sunny Puddy Tat Puddin'. They laughed when I brought you, a scrawny kitten, home from the Humane Society. They envied me when I had the best kitty buddy anybody could want. You were so kind and gentle to my children and calm and loving to me. You were always there when I was lonely, and you were a good conversation piece because of your extra toes. You slept on my bed at my feet every night and asked for a drink in the sink every day. You died at my bedside after I told you good-bye and I love you. My life has been blessed by you. Now you are my guardian angel kitty. I love you forever.
Ode to a Cockatiel
Louie flew away
one cloudy Florida day.
He circled twice and sang:
"I'm free, my feathered gang!"
We watched helplessly and sad,
(He was the only bird we ever had).
We miss Lou's happy "Hello" greeting,
(but not the mess he'd make when eating,
and not his squawk so painfully shrill).
Yet, we love him even still!
So, this little epitaph we write
to our Louie, our friend in flight.
Good-bye from Brenda, Michelle, Mom and Dad.