Joachim

(Adopted September, 1992 - March 25, 2008)

A woman perceived as being in control stuns others when they see her mourning her lost dog as I am. My sadness has so totally overpowered my usual pragmatism and perspective now, that it may seem-- to some-- out of character.

Last week I had a total meltdown, in my car, in the garage, sobbing uncontrollably. I had just returned from doing a few errands when I realized - again - that my faithful companion of the last 16 years was forever gone from the back seat.

Joachim - or more officially, “Joachim the Good Dog” as we liked to clarify - was no ordinary Beagle; he was, simply, a very special dog. Sweet and serene, he never growled, bit, or threatened. He loved people of all ages, other dogs, and even cats.

And he also loved me, his adoptive “mother” of the past decade and a half.

That I adored him goes without saying. I rescued him from the SPCA and he became my pet. I took him everywhere with me, nursed him when he was ill, fed him scraps from my dinner, walked him in rain, sleet and snow-- at all hours-- and tried to attend to his every need.

In exchange, he gave me unquestioned devotion and a quiet and comforting companionship too precious to lose.

Now it is lost.

Books are written about dogs and dog-lovers. Hollywood makes movies about dogs, their owners and the special bonds between them. Poems and essays also abound about the loss of faithful pets and the humans left behind to mourn them.

There was a time when I might have pooh-poohed the sadness people described upon the death of their dogs. Sure, I would have thought, they’re sad, but they’ll get over it. After all, in the end, it’s a dog.

I had no idea, before Joachim.

When my rational side kicks in, I focus on the “important things” and on my many “blessings”. I am grateful for my good health, and for my loving family. I live a decent life and have much to be thankful for, in fact.

But I miss my friend.

I miss the sound of his steady breathing as he slept next to my bed, his wagging tail whenever he saw me, and the warmth of his body at my feet as we watched TV or read together in the evening.

I miss his bark from the back seat, signaling me to open his window so he could drive with the breezes blowing back his velvet ears.

I miss his constancy and, yes, the unquestioning love people talk about when they talk about great dogs.

Our vet suggests another dog to fill the void. Despite his good intentions, the suggestion seems a bit like telling a parent who loses a child that, “It’s a good thing you have other children.” No living being can replace another that was loved and lost.

For the moment, the idea feels like investing again in certain heartache. I don’t want. “another dog”; I want my Joachim back.

And that can never be.

- Mary Ann Sorrentino of Rhode Island

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Buddy

(May, 1999 - June 14, 2006)

Adopted November, 2003

Poor Buddy lost his battle to Lymphoma on June 14, 2006. He was our only foster failure. Never did we ever regret keeping him. He was so kind, gentle and patient. He always knew his place in the pack and never tried to push his way in.

 

After a call from a friend to break out a Beagle who was on death row, I raced to the shelter to pick him up. He had a slight heart murmur and was labeled "unadoptable". After six weeks in a cage on a cold cement floor, they decided his time was up.

I took him home in November of 2003 and we fell in love with him instantly. We never understood how anyone could get rid of such a fine dog. My Beagle girls, Hanna and Clover, took to him immediately.

It was a sad day for so many of us as we made the painful decision to put him to rest. He struggled to the end, but it was in his eyes when I looked at him that I knew his body was just giving up.

We will always love Buddy.  It will be 2 years since his passing on June 14 and words cannot say how much he is missed. We can't wait 'til we seem him someday running in the fields with no pain in his eyes.

- The Church family of Rhode Island

Sandi, Stan, Hanna and Clover

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Max

(February 21, 1997 - February 14, 2008)

When I adopted Max in May of 1997, there were two puppies to choose from, both boys. I picked them both up and one wiggled and the other one licked my nose. Guess which one I picked? That's right; the nose licker became my Max.

He was your typical Beagle who liked to sniff and snooze. He was my first baby before husband and children. He adjusted well when I did get married. In fact I talked so much about Max on my first date with my husband that he thought Max was my son. My husband knew he had to pass the Max test and he did with flying colors. The two became inseparable.

In 2005, he began to loose control of his bladder. After 2 months of worrying and tests, we learned that he had Cushing's Disease. Cushing's is a disease of the Pituitary/Adrenal gland that causes too much cortisol to be produced. There is no cure but there are treatment options that are very viable.

Dogs, on average, live 2 years with Cushing's with a good quality of life. We opted for treatment and settled into life with our Cushinoid dog. He was a fighter, but 3 years after he was diagnosed, he took a turn for the worse, stopped eating and started hiding from us. I knew this was a sign that it was time to say goodbye.

We said goodbye on Valentine's Day, 2008. I know he is over the Rainbow Bridge now and in a better place.

- Laura Gunkle and family of Texas

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Trapper

January 22, 1994- August 11, 2008

Trapper came into our lives at 3 months old. He was my dog right from the start. I fell in love with him also. Whenever I had a bad day, he would come over to me and lay his head in my lap, and look at me with those big Beagle eyes, and my heart would melt. He was truly my buddy. Everyone who knew Trapper loved him,
too.

Trapper and his friend, Chris, our other Beagle, were best friends. They were always together. They both slept on the bed with my husband and me. When we lost Chris, August 16, 2004, Trapper was lost. He kept looking for Chris where they would always lay together in the living room. I truly believe that animals mourn as we do.

I know that it was so hard to say goodbye to my buddy. I held him and kissed him as he passed. Our lives will never be the same. You are forever in our hearts. Until we meet again, my dear little Trapper.

- Theresa Flanagan and family of Ballston Spa, NY

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Bagel

(March 17, 1996 - January 25, 2008)

My younger sister brought home a four-month-old Beagle puppy named Bagel. It was hard to resist those pleading eyes.

Bagel loved people. He did not like being left home alone. As is the case with Beagles, he loved to go where his nose took him.

Bagel hated squirrels. When I took him out on walks and we saw a squirrel, he would bark and bark. He felt that the squirrels were taunting  him.

Bagel had health issues, including a bad heart. Until we had to have Bagel euthanized on January 25, 2008, he was on medication to keep him comfortable. Despite his health issues, he was as outgoing and lovable as ever.

- S Spolter of Granada Hills, CA

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Pokey

(March 15, 1976 - January 9, 1993)

In 1976 when my wife and I got together, I was working nights and got her a dog to keep her company. That was our first Beagle. We named her Pokey because the only thing that could make her move fast was a bowl of food.

Pokey was our dog when our first and second daughters came into this world. We went through a period of financial difficulty, but she was our faithful and loving companion through all the tough times. We made many mistakes with Pokey, not realizing the special needs of a Beagle. However, she forgave us our shortcomings and loved us anyway, as only a dog knows how to do.

Pokey lived to be nearly 17 years old. But in the end, she had many complications because of her age, including pain from arthritis. Though we didn't want to lose her, we reluctantly made the decision to have Pokey put out of her misery. 

To this day, I still think about that wonderful little dog and tears come to my eyes.

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(June 1, 1999 - September 13, 2008)

Six and a half years after losing Pokey, we found another dog that we fell in love with. That was another Beagle, and we named her Daisy.

We vowed that we would not make the same mistakes with Daisy as we had with Pokey, and we spoiled Daisy rotten. I have never seen another dog that could snore so loudly! Daisy was a hunter, and was very possessive about "her back yard".

At only nine years of age, Daisy became listless one evening and would not eat her dinner. By the following morning, she could barely get up and was gasping for breath. I took her to the animal hospital where they examined and X-rayed her. The vet told us that Daisy's heart and liver were enlarged and her lungs were full of fluid. She was apparently going into painful cardiac arrest right in front of us. We once again made the terrible decision to have our beloved pet put down to end her suffering.

The tragedy of Daisy's death was compounded by how suddenly and swiftly it had occurred. It was less than 24 hours from the time that she wouldn't eat her dinner to the time that we lost her.

We will always love and miss Pokey and Daisy. I picture them now as two healthy puppies playing together in Heaven, their noses sniffing the ground, their ears flapping in the wind, and their tails wagging endlessly. I am thankful that through God's infinite wisdom, Beagles have been placed on this earth as a fragile but precious gift to humanity.

Dogs may sometimes do bad things, but there is no such thing as a bad dog.
BEAGLES RULE!!!

- The Kobelkas of Saginaw, TX

Ron, Roxanne, Melissa, and Melanie

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"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures."
~Thornton Wilder

Well, Thomas, it is over,
This adventure we have shared.
So quickly you have left me
When I wanted to hold you forever,
To feel your silken ears against my cheek,
Stroke your fur,
Smell your sweet scented Captain Crunch coat.
You spent your life under the water’s waves,
Buried beneath the sea,
Seemingly forgotten.
But there came a time when you were
Recalled to life,
When a kind person fought for you,
You, the one no one had ever fought for before.
And she brought you up out of the deep ocean
From the unexplored depths
And began to plumb your own depths,
Just scratching the surface before she then
Turned you over to me.
She had dived for treasure
And she gave me the treasure chest to keep opening,
To keep discovering more and more riches
Beneath the surface and hidden in your heart.

Compressed all those years in a cage,
You became the Blue Carbuncle of beagles,
The richest diamond in the rough.
And when brought together
We smoothed each other,
Learning together,
Learning each other,
Untangling the mess
That life can sometimes make of lives.
Didn’t we growl at each other sometimes
As we were learning,
Sometimes caving into the frustration
That comes from being strangers in a dance?
And yet, when it came time for you to leave me
We were Dancing beautifully together.
In so short a span of time.
In too short a span of time.
You blessed me Thomas.
You blessed me.

With the treasure of you
You showered me each day,
Drawing from me all the caring and love
I could muster,
Inspiring more each moment,
So that I grew more love to fill the treasure chest
In which your heart beat for me
And this life we shared.
I grew in the years we shared
As you unfolded to me,
Opening up to Life;
I grew because I loved you
And had the honor of caring for you.
I am more than I was
And now I am changed again,
Suffering my own death with yours
As the me that had you in my arms
Is also no more.
We died together today, Thomas,
And I am left now to walk forward
And resurrect myself from these ashes,
As you once did
From the ashes of the laboratory death-in-life.
But even as you passed from this life
That you loved
You have taught me something of courage.
You wagged your tail today,
Taking in the comfort offered to you
By those who would strive to save you
And with that gift,
That wave perhaps, you strengthened me for the road ahead.

You are present to me now;
I feel you;
I see you wagging your tail
In peaceful acceptance of the circumstances
With no fear,
And I smile.
Even in your death, I smile –
Because that was the last treasure
That you left me,
My inheritance for loving you,
The reverberations of happiness
Echoing through the pain.

- Michele Krause of New York

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow."
~Melody Beattie

Oh, Sparky!
How you lit up my days
From the moment you first entered my halls!
You were a small furry light bulb of joyfulness,
Always smiling,
Always, that is, until the very end
When life became too hard for even you to bear.
So long ago now it was that I first saw your picture,
A strained, gaunt, haunted look painting your face.

I’d visit that picture almost daily
Even though I had no room in my home to take you,
Though certainly I had room enough in my heart.
I’d stare into your eyes and the pain would strike me hard.
I had hoped to see you get a home,
But little did I imagine that it would be mine,
Having no idea I was to lose a friend.
When I was left shipwrecked in my grief for Tom,
You peered into my eyes, searching it seemed,
And I could almost hear you ask me
From somewhere deep within my heart,
“What about me?”
Oh, Sparky!
Yes!
What about you?

Yes, I could see your hunger and sadness
And it echoed my own.
I was hungry for my lost love and soaked in sadness;
You had known all too little love
And lived sadness daily --
Until your Rescuer came
And recalled you to life.
She cradled you, held you close to her heart
So it could beat for you
Since your own was so weak,
And she drummed you back to life
With the love that pulsed within her.
The spark that lit you had not gone out.
It had not.
Your tenacious spirit held fast to the flame of life
And you grew back from where you stood on the threshold of death.
You turned away from darkness
And sought the light,
The light that was to be you again.
Aptly named, you lit everyone’s spirits
And gave smiles like a billionaire tossing out gold coins.
And then came the day for your journey north.
You would come to me
And I would open my arms and heart and life and world
To you!
I would embrace you and press into your body the love
That burgeoned inside me
And I would make you know,
Truly know,
That you were a Treasure.
A buried treasure someone else forgot,
But one that I discovered more of each and every day.
Every day.
Every single day.
What a holiday when you were delivered to my care!
We beamed, all of us,
Beamed to share the magic of this meeting,
Four humans and a dog --
And all of us smiling,
For finally you could.
You had a home --
And I was the honored person chosen to give it to you,
Though so many people had worked to make it happen.
When you embarked with me on the last leg of your travels
I spoke to you and promised you a new world.
A world of good food, soft beds, heated shelter, a yard to play in,
And friends, both canine and human.
As I spoke I fed you treats
And you were happy.
You were happy.
Oh, Sparky,
You were always so happy!
I remember your first meal,
How hungry you were,
How much you relished it.
I remember the first dog you met,
Nyneve.
She’s gone now too, Sparky.
She went with you.
And perhaps it is fitting,
For you spent your days together
Sharing each other’s gentle company.
I remember how quickly you were able to mingle with the others,
Though to Pandy’s chagrin you didn’t want to wrestle.
You would do laps across the yard and sometimes,
Sometimes you would run,
Oh, you would run!
Like you never could before,
Though your body hungered for it.
And then you would come to me,
Look up into my face,
Beaming with pleasure,
As if to say,
“Thanks! I love this!”
And it wasn’t too long before you came to me one evening
And declared your love in your doggy way,
Rubbing your face so gently against my leg,
Claiming me as your own
And licking my pants softly.
To be claimed so beautifully by you, Sparky,
Was one of my greatest honors.
We danced! We snuffled! We snuggled!
We laid close together on the couch.
We took walks in the parks
And traveled to meet new friends at a Homecoming
That you stole from the greyhounds that day.
We lived, Sparky.
We LIVED.

I wanted to give you as much Life as I could.
I wanted you to know the joy you gave to me
Each time I simply looked upon you sleeping on a bed.
The spark you lit in me
Burned more brightly than the Olympic torch.
You illuminated my world
And I could see perhaps better than ever before
All that was important.
You exuded happiness.
The sadness of your prior time fell away,
Unlike the burden of that which I carried with Tom;
You taught me to laugh and to forget the sadness;
You lit the way and showed me how to shed that past life
In the way you appreciated every morsel of food,
Every texture of bedding,
Every soft touch,
Every kiss,
Every chance to experience Life
And safety and peace and friends and love.
And when pain troubled you,
You persisted through it,
Accepting the limitation and using it as a chance to enjoy sleep
And soft beds even more.
You endured, Sparky.
You endured.
And you still endure now, too,
For you speak to me from my heart,
Like you did when I saw your picture;
You speak to me from my own heart
And I know that you still live,
For you live there now permanently.
I cannot stroke your furry coat more.
I cannot kiss your face.
I cannot rub my own against yours,
Claiming you in your language
As you had claimed me.
Oh, and I ache to do so.
Perhaps you feel that now,
Being where you are,
Where the ache originates.
I gave you all that I could;
Goodness knows I would give you more if I could.
But what can one say when one meets an insurmountable foe?
All I had left was to give you a good death.
I did what I could to make that so.
It was the only gift I had left to give.
But I have not stopped giving my love, Sparky.
You have that.
You always will.

I have not stopped giving my love.
I miss you now so much
And I hunger as you once did for life,
For your life.
I want to give you more of it,
More life,
But I can only give you love now,
Not life.
Just my love
And I hope you still feel it there,
Curled up as you are;
I hope you still feel it with each beat of my heart.
And I know that someday a new pair of tired and imploring eyes
Will peer searchingly into my own,
Perhaps from far away like you did,
And I will hear your voice speaking to me from my own heart
Just as I did then.
And I will know
It is time once again to love anew.

- Michele Krause of New York

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(Born January, 2001 - June 8, 2010)

My two children brought Ellie Anne (also lovingly known as ElleBelle) to me as a Mother's Day gift May 11, 2001.  Ellie was definitely a puppy mill baby who had been at a local pet store from the time she was 6 wks old until she was 4 months old.

A woman in Lawrence who was a rescuer had been after the pet store to let her take her at a much reduced rate because she had been in that cage for so long in her very young life. 

The store finally agreed and Ellie was finally set free and went home with the lady. She started looking for a good home for her when my children saw her in the classified ads.  The gal only asked for a small adoption fee.  Ellie had her papers, which is why we knew when she was born but we of course never registered her. 

Ellie was one of a kind.  She didn't realize how many dogs she saved in her life time. Her deep brown Cleopatra eyes would so many times look at you letting you know she was bored out of her mind and feeling left out so we would try to find something to make her happy.  Her favorite trick, which none of the dogs ever caught on to, was running to the doggie door and doing the "some thing's out there" bark.

The others would race outside and Ellie would turn around and go get in her favorite spot on the couch or the toy she was wanting when either one had been abandoned by one of the other dogs in their rush to get outside. You could almost see the mischievous grin on her face of having fooled them once again. 

Ellie was our Diva and the Matriarch of the family. She loved to have one-on-one time with us to either remind us or to be reminded that she was the first in the family.  Even toward the end when she was too weak to run down the long deck stairway to go check out what mystical thing was lurking beyond the fence, she would sit at the top of the steps and direct the others with her urgent bark as to where to look next in the yard for any suspicious characters that might be out there.  I could go on and on about her antics and the unconditional love she brought to us along with many wonderful life's lessons but there just wouldn't be enough room.

We miss her so very terribly and pray we will meet her again at the Rainbow Bridge. Thank you Ellie Anne for the 9 wonderful years you gave us.

Love always,
Mom, Dad, Auntie Corie and Uncle Paul, Jake your bonded half and 5 other furkid siblings and your 6 furkid cousins. Until we meet again.

- The Martin Family of Kansas

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I got Spike as my high school graduation gift.  He was the last male of his litter.  The owners said that nobody wanted him because of his color.  Spike was black, white, and chubby for a puppy. 

I did not care he was my first dog and I planned to keep him forever.  Ever since Spike became part of my family he has been the perfect dog, friend, guard, and family.  Spike always put everybody else first.  I wanted him to live forever but we all know that does not happen. 

He touched all of our lives.  Everybody knew Spike from my whole family.  When we lost Spike I lost a part of my heart, soul, and life.  But I know he's doing better and looking down on us. 

I always said Lord you have the best dog in the world up there with you and he will take care of anything. 

 

We love you buddy

- The Rogerio Family of San Antonio, Texas and Laredo, Texas
Mike, Diana, & Belle

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Nellie Rae Noodles

(Born May 7, 2000 - August 23, 2011)

On a completely spontaneous trip to Georgia in August of 2000, we stopped for the night in the town of Marietta, GA, where we took a trip to the local mall across from our hotel. We browsed in the pet shop there and we kept hearing such a sad little moaning howl. We walked across the shop and found these sounds to be coming from the sweetest little puppy we had ever seen. A sad, lonely little Beagle that we knew right away had stolen our hearts. We didn't dream we would be taking a trip and ending up with a dog, but all we knew is that we weren't leaving Marietta without her... and we didn't.

On the entire 10 hour trip home from Georgia to Louisville, she took turns sleeping in our laps the whole ride, and we knew we had found our angel. We named her Nellie. Her full name would end up being Nellie Rae Noodles, and the name really fit her fun loving, energetic little personality...

For years and years, she was our daughter, our traveling buddy, and our sweet angel. She loved trips to the lake, she loved people, she loved showing other dogs that she was the boss, and most of all, she loved her mommy and daddy.

On December 6th 2010, after we had taken Nellie to the vet following a bad nosebleed, we got the most tragic news of our lives. Our little girl had a very rare nasal carcinoma, which accounts for maybe 2% of cancer in all dogs. We were told that it was a particularly aggressive type of cancer, and we should expect that Nellie would only have about 2-3 months to live. We were devastated. We knew time would be short, but we were determined to make the best of it and make sure Nellie stayed as comfortable as possible.

Nellie showed her true spirit and heart by defying the expectations. She made it through Christmas, made it to her 11th birthday, and made it through both of our birthdays. She made it nearly 9 months, but on August 23, 2011, Nellie suffered 2 nearly consecutive seizures, which she had never had before. We rushed her to the vet where it was determined that the tumor was growing and putting pressure on her brain.

She had been a great fighter, but we knew that she did not deserve to suffer. We made the hardest, most gut-wrenching decision of our lives to put her down that night. She went peacefully in the arms of her Mommy as I had my hand on her. It was the place she would have wanted the most to be when it was time for her to go.

Her loss has left a crater in our hearts and a void in our home. However, through the sadness, we are filling the holes in our hearts and the void of our home with memories of her. Her pictures. Her toys. Tributes to her. Memories of the joy she brought us for 11 years are healing us. She may be gone in body, but she will remain forever in spirit and she will be a part of our hearts until the day we die. We will always love you, Nellie.

Love,
Mommy and Daddy

- The Donalds of Louisville, KY

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