We miss you more than words could ever express. You were everything to us and we just can’t believe that you are gone now. We love you and we will all be reunited again some day. Until then little one, may you find love and happiness in the cosmos. Every night sky will remind us of you and just how amazing you were.–Dillon Eaves

December 17, 2001 – May 6, 2014
Patches was born on my late younger brother Mike’s birthday the year he died of cancer. I truly believe Patches came to us to help me with my grief. She loved both my husband and I and was always there for a “Patchy Adventure” to Dairy Queen, testing out newly made quilts, and of course giving lots of lap time to us. Since retiring she became my constant companion and helped me transition from a corporate environment to home. Patches was just over 12 years old when she was diagnosed with throat cancer and very shortly after she left us. Patches was our true love and we miss her. We believe Mike is giving her lots of love in Heaven until we get to see her again.–Cindy Peterson

My husband and I first met Rain in August of 2005 shortly after moving into our first house. After searching Petfinder.com for weeks, we finally found her available for adoption at the Humane Society of Southern Arizona. We instantly fell in love with her sweet face just from her pictures online. As I was driving there to meet her in person I hoped that she would have the personality to match and she did not disappoint.

Rain (a.k.a. Brains, as she affectionately became known as) easily became a part of our family and it was like she had always been with us. You could count on her waiting the door when we would come home from work, happy and excited to see us! She LOVED to ride in the car, play tug-o’-war with her rope toys or fetch with her ball, but she was also just content to be near us no matter what we were doing.

She became fast friends with almost everyone she met and over the years, as we added new dogs to our family, people who knew her would always comment on how Rain was their favorite! She loved kids, especially our two nephews who would never leave her side when they came to visit.

A few weeks ago, I started to notice that she wasn’t her normal active self, but I chalked it up to her getting older and just slowing down. However, after a visit to the vet she was diagnosed with Lymphoma and the vet estimated that she only had about 1-3 months left with us. Needless to say, my husband and I were devastated. Unfortunately, her disease was more advanced than the vet thought and her health went downhill very quickly. Four days later we made the difficult decision to let her go.

She was a large part of our life and her presence is definitely missed in our home. I feel blessed to have had almost 10 years with her. When she passed I told my husband that I was glad that we found her that day and he said, “No, she found us!” She was meant to be ours and even though she is gone she will always hold a very special place in our hearts.

We love you, Brains, and we miss you so much!–Mike & Toni Morgan

No words can describe how different life is without you. There is no one at the door watching me when I leave for work in the morning and no one greeting me when I get home at night. I was always so happy to see you and you were always so happy to see me. No matter what, I wanted to be near you and you were my shadow wherever I went in the house. Cleo, remember the time I took you home for the first time?!

I miss the tortilla-chip smell of your feet, the warmth of your belly, the wetness of your nose on my face and so many more things … I miss watching you run in the park and I miss that little butt wiggle when you wagged your tail–oh how that wag made me so happy. I miss my best friend. Cleo, you were always there for me and gave me a higher sense of purpose. I love you with all of my heart. I looked forward to the time of day when I got home to walk with you. I loved our “Puppy Make Out” time and hanging and eating together. You were a great friend, wonderful therapy dog and everyone loved you, even the cat. Grandpa misses you so much and I know he felt so lucky to be with you these last 6 months. You are always near me and I carry your memory in my heart. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for lighting up my world and teaching me the beauty in the little things, and teaching me about being grounded. You defined “home” for me. You are the first thought on my mind every morning and the last thought on my mind every night. I love you more than words can say, Cleo Luna. Thank you. Thank you.–Erica Hesselson

Happy, you will be dearly missed. I saw the love and light in your eyes. I am so sorry I was not able to do more for you. I will always miss you and I will never forget you. You will always be in my heart.–Lori Mehl

Rio. Pure love in 8 pounds.–Larry Huston

From Flush: A Biography by Virginia Woolf: “Low creatures — my dogs — lead to heights of love.”–William Pordy, M.D.

Symba was our little man. He had his own “big boy” attitude. We had him from a puppy and I always took him to work with me at the insurance agency and the customers just loved him. He had a curly tail that everyone just loved to try and uncurl. He recently learned the “kissy, kissy dance,” as we called it. He would sit down and twirl around and give you kisses. Symba and Emma were best buddies and she, as well as the whole family, are lost without him around. He loved to run and fetch a ball and just go for a walk with you or cuddle in your lap. Symba will be missed and was very much loved by all who met him.–Robin Spencer-Laurie

After I saw a story on Good Morning America about therapy dogs, I knew that I had to have a dog. I started looking at the local shelters and on Petfinder, but there were mostly large dogs. I needed a smaller dog to fit in my condo. My parents “just happened to be driving past” the Passaic Animal Shelter and my mother saw a beautiful adult medium-sized terrier mix that was very friendly to her. She was dubbed “Terry the Terrier” or “Noel” because she was found wandering the frigid streets in December 2001. My mother urged me to go to the shelter, but the hours were limited and I didn’t see the dog on Petfinder, so I delayed looking.

On the last working day before Christmas 2001, I finally saw the dog on the website. I skipped out of work early and drove to the shelter to see “Terry” for myself. The Passaic Animal Shelter was a very modest facility, with cats, very large dogs, and one medium-size dog. She had long white fur with black ears, a black patch on her back, brown eyes, and a loud bark. I was able to take the dog for a walk outside. I couldn’t believe that small, scrawny dog could practically pull my arm off. As soon as the dog saw my boyfriend, she started dancing around on her hind legs, giving her paw to shake and doing other “cutie dog” moves. He was sold. He finished the paperwork and paid the $15. The dog had to be spayed and was available to come home on Dec. 25, 2001, renamed Lobo. She was the best present I ever got. Lobo always brought smiles to our faces. It was a smooth adjustment having a dog around the house.

Even though she was about 15 years old, her loss was a sudden shock. After more than 12 years together and the addition of a second dog, now Lobo is gone, to be reunited with my mother. Through our walks, I got to meet my neighbors. I found local parks that I never knew existed. I never laughed harder than trying to get Lobo to wear booties in the snow and watching her shaking them off. She spoke without words, offering friendship with an outstretched paw or nudge, sharing our lives. There is no way to summarize the shared companionship. Lobo will always be in our hearts.–Roberta R.

Rescued from homelessness in 2011 after their previous owner passed away, an exceptionally sweet brother-sister pair of cats who we named Tartufo and Tiramisu brought us great joy for 2½ years before they both suddenly succumbed to cancer this fall at age 9. Although they are gone from our arms, they will forever remain in our hearts.

We first discovered them on Petfinder when they were put up for adoption by Animal Rescue Force in East Brunswick, NJ. Although they were both shy at the adoption site, they almost instantly transformed into gregarious cuddle bugs within minutes of arriving at our house. We were honored to have inherited these wonderful little beings.

Beautiful inside and out, Tartufo routinely and cheerfully came up to the front door to greet all visitors to the house — from toddlers to senior citizens — and made a point of always following us from room to room, never letting us out of his sight.

Tiramisu’s thunderous purrs earned her the moniker of “Earthquaker.” Her seemingly limitless capacity to give and receive love and make extensive conversation — even throughout her illness — made her a veritable supernova of joy.

We are so grateful to Animal Rescue Force for rescuing and caring for Tartufo and Tiramisu prior to their finding their way to us, as we are to Petfinder for helping us find our way to them.–Claire Sterling

He was an affectionate cat is truly missed.–Catherine Santos

Thank you for the opportunity to tell you about my little girl, whom I miss everyday. She was 16 years old when I lost her. She was born in a puppy mill and resided there for a year and a half. She never learned to be a puppy. Those things were beyond her and though I tried, she never really got it. She was my confidant, the keeper of my secrets, my everything. She had a compadre named Kash. He passed away at the age of 5 after being stepped on by a 90-lb. lab. He lived 10 days after the accident. He was my first heartbreak. I had him from the age of 5 weeks.

Ruby started going down hill within in months after he passed. The vet diagnosed her with diabetes. She lived a year after the initial diagnosis. Her liver swelled to the size of a football and was as hard as one too. It was squeezing out her other organs, and pushing her diaphragm up and blocked her lungs. She had to lay over the edge of the couch to open herself up to breath. Towards the end, she started panting from panic. She had this fear in her eyes that pleaded, “Mommy, help me.”

After several sleepless nights, we made a trip to the vet with not bringing her home with me as an option. Well, after we got there, that was my only option. I could not bear to watch her suffer. We (Ruby and I) had a long talk at the vet’s office and we shed many tears together as she gave me her permission to let her go.

She fell asleep in my arms, and we came home together, where we buried her under the Japanese Weeping Cherry Tree, on the opposite side from Kash. They are both together waiting on me on the Rainbow Bridge. She was always so thankful to me for giving her a home where she eventually ruled the roost: my husband, Kash, and always me. I cannot tell you how badly she is missed, but I still feel her here at times. It may be just a look in the eyes of an abandoned dog, a lost or hurt dog. Her heart will always be with me. I am actually looking for another Dachshund, around two years old — male or female, it doesn’t matter. I have a male 2-year-old Dachshund named Opie; he’s a piebald and he needs a buddy. He loves kids, cats and other dogs. Rubisue was one of a kind. She was mine and I was hers. Thank you for letting me tell you about her. She truly was the joy of my life.–Debbie Mullins

He was a gentle giant and is greatly missed by all who loved him.–Don McLean

I adopted Rue from a local rescue in Anchorage, Alaska, where he had been returned twice. Rue was about two years old had been abused and neglected and was very shy and afraid of humans. After a couple days of hiding under the bed, he finally was coaxed out for a meal of tuna and dog kibble (he loved tuna more than anything).

Within a few weeks he started to trust and loved to come along for runs, hikes, and car rides. For a 25-pound pup he was fearless, loved to climb mountains, and even chased a moose! We think he was a Westie mix, but with his long legs, he was more of a sprinter, and wow could he run, run, run!

When I moved to Washington 11 years ago, Rue was already 16 and we worried about how to get him safely from Anchorage to Seattle. My vet said driving him would be best, so we took to the road for a three-day, 2,300-mile trip. Rue loved the drive and got to stay in hotels along the way; he thought he was a rock star.

Two years later, and a despite enjoying the less-extreme weather in Washington, Rue started to decline, had multiple seizures, and stopped eating; the vet mentioned that he was a very old dog at 18 and it was probably time to let him go. That was over eight years ago and this past year I decided I was ready to adopt again. I wish I had not waited so long; having my new rescue, Buck, has been such a joy and being part of a dog community again is so rewarding.–Joanne Landry

We adopted Sweet when she was already 13 years old. When we took her to the vet that first time, we did not think the prognosis for her would be good. It was obvious from her appearance that she had been neglected for some time. To our surprise, our vet said that he felt she still had life in her. We had her for three years and she showed us what a fighter she was. We believe they were very happy years for her. They certainly were for us. She lived up to her name — Sweet, She was the sweetest and toughest dog we ever knew and we miss her and love her.–Donna

He was a particularly sensitive, loving, playful companion and we miss him terribly. He was our prince and shall live forever in our hearts and minds. We still have another rescue (Sam) who was distraught at losing his buddy so we adopted another guy who at 4 is still a wild guy (Alfie), but quite adorable and learning quickly. He passed obedience training with flying colors and will soon start agility school as a means of helping him burn off some energy. I am confident that we will always have at least one dog, but understand there will never be another Willie: He will always own a big part of Susan’s, Sam’s and my heart.–Carol Ashley

Betsy was a collie mix; she looked like she was part collie, part golden retriever with other breeds mixed in. She was born in March 2005 in North Carolina and she and her brother were rescued from a shelter when they were very young.

I started looking for a dog about that time; I’d had cats for over 20 years but had not had a dog as an adult. I wanted a puppy whom I could raise and be with for many years, through her adulthood and old age. I was kind of looking for a collie-type dog since that is what we had growing up, a mutt who needed a home. A friend at work told me about Petfinder.com, where I found Chicklet, soon to be named Betsy.

When Betsy was three months old, the rescue group brought her and a bunch of other dogs up to a rest stop in Carlisle, PA, just south of Harrisburg, and I made the three-hour drive to get her. After I paid the balance of her adoption fee, the rescue person put little Betsy into my arms and I had a dog, a little ball of fluff who just wanted to sit on my lap. I drove the whole way home with her on my lap, then sat on the porch and carried her around the house. She must have been tired and stressed out from the long ride. She slept a lot, then started looking around. Later in the day she helped me plant flowers by digging a hole and she found some sticks to chew and pull. I had prepared a place for her with a bed, toys and water, but she was only interested in following me around.

She grew. I’d had in mind a medium-sized dog, but Betsy had big paws and grew into them, to be about 50 lbs. She was light brown, with some white on her chest, paws and rump and some black on her tail. She was very energetic and a very picky eater and was always thin. But she loved treats and the bones I made for her once a week. She had long fur with curly tendrils around her ears, a long collie nose, and one of her ears sometimes flopped over.

I took her most places with me: to the grocery store, visiting friends and relatives, for ice cream, to dog classes at Petco. She liked to sit in the front seat and look out the window. In the grocery store parking lot, people would laugh at seeing her sitting in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead, as if she were driving. She liked to walk in her wading pool and would swim or walk in the water in ponds and streams. She liked to walk and sometimes sit in the mud; once she almost got stuck in quicksand. I tried to train her to sit in the canoe with me, but she kept jumping in the water and swimming alongside.

She liked to sleep on the couch and on the bed. She got along well with the cats and liked to play with their toys sometimes. She loved their laser toy and would go crazy chasing it. And she really liked their cat food.

She liked to play with sticks and balls, especially fetch, and she liked to tear her toys apart and find the squeaker. But her favorite toy was a Frisbee. She was obsessed; she would play for hours and hours, bringing the Frisbee back and dropping it at someone’s feet; if they didn’t respond, she would nudge it with her nose and stare at it fixedly. She brought Frisbees to anyone who was around and took them for walks and in the car. I kept buying new ones as they were chewed up or disappeared and found a few Frisbees in the yard or field after she died.

We went for walks every day in the field and pasture behind my house. She wasn’t interested in the horses but did get sprayed by skunks a few times. Sometimes we would go for longer hikes in local parks; longer hikes tired her out and she slept a lot the next day, giving me a rest from being continually bumped with a Frisbee. We went camping and hiking in the Adirondack Park in New York; she seemed to enjoy seeing new places and things. Of course she always brought her Frisbee. She was a sweet dog, never ran off anywhere, and everybody always liked her.–Teresa

This is Bree. A beautiful dilute Calico. She was playful and mischievous. As a kitten, she stole my socks out of the hamper and would walk around the house carrying them in her mouth. She loved Christmas tree ornaments and would sometimes be seen halfway up the tree sleeping amongst the branches. Once I found two ornaments left as “presents” in my bed. I will miss her playful running around sounding like a herd of elephants. I’ll really miss the quiet way she purred that required me to put my ear on her belly to hear it.–Leona Livingston

It has taken me a few years to get to this, but I am hopeful that by sharing Sweet Pete’s story, I’ll offer my memory of him some rest. It would be an gross injustice to say that Sweet Pete haunts me, but “what could have been” still causes my heart to ache on a fairly regular basis.

My family was kayaking on Easter and we found him near the river. Covered with ticks and fleas, his teeth were worn to nubs from flea biting his entire life. He was emaciated at about 40 lbs. — way too thin for a German Shepherd. He was an oldster, probably well older than 10, my weakness, and he had the kindest eyes. We all fell in love.

When we took him to the doctor to find out why he was listing to one side, we discovered he had a brain tumor. It was tough to see in detail, because the buckshot in his head and neck obscured the view on the radiographs. On day two with Sweet Pete (named after the Easter Bunny) we knew he needed radiation treatment, which the docs said might buy him six months of health.

Determined to give Sweet Pete six months of what he always deserved, we decided to treat him like family and give him a fighting chance. Through 12 weeks of treatment he gave us back these gifts:

He snuggled all night with my teenage daughter.

He protectively shepherded my 2-year-old granddaughter, keeping nefarious characters (our other dogs and a gang of roving chickens) far away from her.

He let us see him learn to play.

He let Charlie-cat boss him around.

He always appreciated my cooking.

He defined, for our whole family, what the “perfect” dog is.

On the twelfth week of treatment, right before his final radiation visit, he started to have severe seizures from the radiation (a known risk) and we had to euthanize him during a trip to the emergency clinic.

Was it worth it? Can 12 weeks of eating buffalo burgers, getting to sleep in a little girl’s bed, running on the farm, and being flea-free make up for a decade of suffering (plus 12 weeks of radiation treatments)? I don’t know the answer, but I do know that he was a good guest in our life and would have loved us and shepherded us with dignity and gratitude as long as he could have.

Now, two years later, my biggest problem is that Sweet Pete unveiled the truth lurking in the rural woods surrounding our affluent community. And that, not Sweet Pete, is what haunts me.–Betsy Banks Saul

Sadie was one of those dogs who was friendly to anyone and everyone. She had a very energetic personality that would brighten up anyone’s day. Sadie, a Brittany Spaniel and a hunting dog by nature, loved to run around the back yard and playfully bark and point at all the birds and animals that would walk or fly by. She was always very alert and aware of her surroundings, which made her a perfectly family dog.

At such a young age, I never felt unsafe while I was around her. Sadie was my partner in crime, always by my side. She even helped me eat my ice cream cones! I remember clear as day, on a hot summer afternoon when I was in my back yard playing on my wooden play set, minding my own business eating my vanilla ice cream cone … Sadie came over
and helped herself to the rest of my ice cream cone. I was really angry at first, but then later realized she was probably just trying to help me when she noticed that more of the ice cream was dripping on me than ending up in my mouth.

After that day, Sadie eating my ice cream cones became a weekly thing, but I didn’t mind.

To this day I still miss Sadie. She was the first dog that I remember from when I was growing up. And I was definitely her favorite out of everyone in my family, which clearly explains why she only liked to eat my ice cream.

Though Sadie is no longer with me today, she lived a long, wonderful life, and passed at the age of 15. I cannot wait for the day that I have a dog of my own just like Sadie, to share experiences with and enjoy the friendship that comes along with having a companion just as energetic and fun-loving as Sadie. It has been many years since Sadie’s passing, but to this day, she always holds a special place in my heart.–Allison Michelle Vergara

The first time I met Penny, a pudgy, 2-year-old Beagle mix whose family no longer wanted her, I was a lonely 26-year-old living in the cold northwoods of rural Wisconsin, and she HUGGED me. She jumped up on my lap, put her front legs around my neck and pressed up her body against mine. I’d never met a dog who gave hugs, but it turned out to be pretty Penny’s signature move, and it instantly endeared her to me.

Not long after I took Penny in, I began to understand why her former family — who had just left a simple, “free to good home” note up in a local business — had wanted to part ways with her. Having been adopted from and returned to a shelter several times, Penny had developed severe separation anxiety. When I left for work, she jumped out of a window and through a screen to follow me. When I tried crating her, she became so distraught she broke her teeth on the door. I worked closely with a compassionate veterinarian on holistic remedies, like exercise, distractions and training, before finally resorting to medication to help ease her nervous mind.

As we worked through this, Penny and I became very close. She came to work with me at the newspaper, gnawing on a bone while I filed my stories. She went on a road trip to Ohio with me. We trudged through walks in the never-ending snow. She snuggled next to me at night, and she even woke me up once when my bloodsugar was dangerously low (I have type 1 diabetes).

Penny died as a result of a tragic car accident, less than one year after she came into my life. She taught me so much about what it means to be a devoted pet parent, and how to help others whose pets are dealing with separation anxiety. My friends, who had been touched by Penny’s hugs and gentle disposition, gathered for a memorial service. She is buried under a flowerbed in Ashland, Wis., and the memories of her loving hugs will always be in my heart.–Karen Hollish