Last Tuesday was a terrible day for Charyl, me and our animal family.  Our wonderful dog, Goliath, a Great Dane, died tragically from a gunshot wound.  He had chased a deer into the woods and never returned.  We’ll never know what actually happened but we know that Goliath was never a threat and was, in fact, very frightened of guns.

Sadly, we recovered his body and buried him by the fence line near the barn where he spent so much time with us.  Through our tears, we remembered all of the special times we had with him.

When we adopted him nearly a year and a half ago, he was a handful.  At first it was a real challenge.  He had to learn to live with all of our other animals, dogs, cats, horses, even birds and a ferret.  The rule around here is if you want to stay you have to get along.

Goliath, we quickly learned, picked things up fast.  Oh, he always chased cats and growled grumpily at the little dogs, and he loved to bark and chase horses. But he always did these things while wagging his tail.

He quickly learned that getting too close to running horses was dangerous.  If he caught a cat, he merely licked it and set it free, and he would actually let the little dogs push him around.  That’s what he was – a big pushover.

I knew from the beginning that he was a lady’s man; I was merely his buddy while Charyl was gone.  When she went to work he would look dejected and sad, but he would perk up when I went out the barn.  Oh boy, he knew he was going to be able to run with the ponies. Afterwards, he was my companion, lying on a large comforter beside my desk while I wrote.

I must admit that writing with Goliath at my side was sometimes quite a challenge. Oh, it wasn’t because of his size or noise, but because he was frequently gaseous, causing me to take frequent breaks. If I could have heated the house from Goliath’s output, I would be a millionaire.

Often in these situations when the evening weather was nice, I would let him out on the deck.  He would patrol the fenced in yard and notify any unwelcome critters, be they raccoons, possums, or coyotes that his farm was off limits.

Before midnight on Charyl’s work days, he just knew that it was time for her to come home. I would let him out and he would stand by the locked gate waiting.  When I went out to let her in, he was ecstatic, and he would try to climb in the truck to greet her before she could exit.  She would always come in the house with love marks of slobber.

He loved truck rides, playing with his sidekick, Molly (a jack/rat terrier), and just barking at the fence line, always letting the outside world know that Goliath was King of the Farm.

While Charyl loved him at first sight, it took time for him to “grow” on me, but he won me over in quick fashion.  We loved him and we miss him. He will always remain in our hearts.

— James from Hawthorne, FL

About 15 years ago, my mom, son and I moved to Florida. A few months after settling in to our home, two houses in the neighborhood were broken into, the only times in the 25 years of the development that this had happened. When we learned about it, my son looked at me and said “I think it’s time we got another Doberman.” We had shared our lives with several Dobermans over a number of years but the last one had died more than 10 years earlier and since that time we had several smaller dogs, none of whom would be a deterrent to someone trying to break in to your home. My mom was 88 at the time and we were concerned about her being home alone if anyone should try to break in. So we began looking for a Dobe puppy and before long we found her, an 8 week old red little girl that we named Juno. She became our faithful, loving companion and our always devoted watchdog. She grew up with my mom around and learned to be careful and extra gentle when approaching her to be petted. She clearly understood that my mom couldn’t handle being bumped or nudged firmly as she was not that steady on her feet. Junie would go on walks with me at night and I always felt safe. She watched anyone who was walking in our vicinity and would keep her eye on them until they were far enough away that she decided it was alright to turn her attention elsewhere. She loved our cats and would nudge them and lick them when she got the chance. She loved being noticed for her “tricks” and developed her own, like strutting around with a piece of napkin or paper towel in her mouth, or better yet, one of my slippers, and would carry it in her mouth, walking around wagging her little cropped tail and looking at us out of the corner of her eye, as if to say, “I’m bad, look what I’ve got!”

She developed another little trick where she would lay on her dog bed and turn her head so that she was looking at us upside down. We’d laugh and clap our hands, and call her “Upside down Junie” and she clearly loved it, and would do it over and over to get her applause.

She went to Obedience Class as a young 6 month old dog and never forgot the lessons she learned and would always respond instantly until as a very old girl she couldn’t sit comfortably anymore and we no longer asked her to. Last spring she began having some medical problems, but we were able to nurse her through them and she celebrated her 14th birthday. When she slipped on our back porch and hurt her leg, which then swelled up to nearly three times its normal size, we had to carry her outside for about a week, several times a day, and help hold her up so she could to her business. We were able to get the fluid out of her leg, and she was once again walking normally. We were relieved and grateful as we didn’t want to think about losing her. She was soon her old self, just a little slower and we hoped we’d get to her 15th birthday this spring. But in mid November she was slowing down again and we were doing everything we could to keep her going. On Thanksgiving Day, she didn’t want to eat her dinner and I sensed that the end was near, so we did everything to make her comfortable. The next morning I helped her walk out to the back porch and she stood there leaning against me a bit for quite a while just looking around her back yard, and enjoying the sunshine. The neighbor’s dogs were out and she could hear them and smell them. It seemed as if she was enjoying this routine of 14.5 years for the last time. She drank her water and did her business and came back in with me to lay down on her bed. She didn’t want to get up or go out after that, though we tried to encourage her and offered to assist her as we had before. She just wanted to lie there near us, and so we stayed close through the rest of the day. She was still aware and watching us come and go through the house. Later that evening she had stopped lifting her head to follow us with her eyes and I pulled a chair over next to her and sat there petting her and talking to her for quite some time. She seemed to slip into a peaceful sleep and was quiet and then she made a couple of odd noises and opened her mouth widely twice and then she was still. I felt her chest and her heart had stopped. I sat there for a while and let the tears fall as I petted her for the last time.

We haven’t decided yet whether to get another dog, or Dobe.  We know if we do, there will never be another Junie. She was one of a kind, a beloved companion who wanted always to please and loved her people unconditionally. We miss her every day.

— Stephanie from Gainesville, FL

Today we lost Sprangler, our loving and faithful companion of 12 years.  She was our precious little puppy who hopped over her litter siblings to pick us instead of the other way around.  The large heart-shaped spot on her coat was just the first indication we had that she would give us much more love than we could ever give her.

Her last two months were filled with many struggles and pain, but she never stopped trying to please her mommy and daddy until she finally succumbed to a seizure.  A piece of us has been taken away and can never be replaced, but we’ll forever cherish our times together.

We love you, “Boo.”  You were the greatest gift God ever gave us.

— Steven from Tamarac, FL

Late yesterday afternoon I made that dreaded last trip to the vet.  Our 14 year old red Irish setter Cinnamon was giving up.  Energetic, fun, and in trouble most of her life she had dropped from 52 to under 40 pounds in the last year and her hips were giving out.  She kept going and walking with us until the last few weeks; 3 days ago, she started refusing all food and I knew it was the end,  I carried her into the vets office and he gently explained the procedure.  I held her beautiful face in my hands while my friend Dr. Elroy gently put the fluid in a vein in her arm.  She did not struggle or whimper, her breathing slowed then stopped.  I wrapped her in her blanket an Elroy helped me out to the car.  I know we did the right thing, she would have suffered more and died within the next day if we hadn’t, but my heart is very broken.  I miss her fighting me when I tried to give her a bath, I miss her waking me up with a paw slap because it was thundering and she was scared and needed our attention.  Last night I met my oldest son, who had helped raise and train Cinnamon and spent days camping, fishing and hunting with her, at his rural property.  We dug a hole under an oak tree and laid our beautiful redhead to rest.  We miss you, Cinnamon.

— Bob from Loyal, WI

Ten years ago my husband called and said he was bringing home another women and she was younger than me.  When he walked in he had this precious little pug with him.  He handed her to me and she stopped shaking.  The name she had was pretty stupid so we started going through  names and when I said Maxie her head popped up and her tail started wagging.  So Maxie had a new home and for 10 years she had given up more love that one could ever hope for.  She saved her brother, Murphy twice.  And when he went blind she protected him with all she had.  I will miss her so much.  She is Murphy now and we have a new baby Nacho.  God bless our pets.

— Judi from San Dimas, CA

In May of 2000 I found Gus.  He came crawling out of a ditch just as I passed by on my way home from a horse show.  I thought I had rolled a baby raccoon.  I stopped and here was this puppy looking at me saying, “Gee lady what’s that for?”  I scooped him up and away we went.  Down the road a few minutes I looked in the backseat and he is FOAMING at the mouth…….carsick!   Oh well, trucks clean up pretty well.  Gus and my one year old border collie/sheltie mix Vinnie were the odd couple.  Vinnie was always neat, clean, and aloof.  Vinnie considered me as his job.  Gus always played in the mud/snow, not so neat and friended everyone, a social butterfly!  And that’s the way it was until 1/24/2013.  Little Gussy had been battling heart disease for four years.   I remember the night I had a conversation with him about my wish for him to pass at home so I could be with him.  I told him it was okay to let go.  He gave me that understanding look.   He hung on for a few more months.  Home from work on the 24th and I saw the look in his eye.  The light was gone.  That night he gave me my wish, he passed in my arms.

So now he’s racing around friending everyone in puppy heaven, playing in the mud/snow and still not neat.  Gus, I hope you have forgotten about all the really bad haircuts I gave you in the summers.  I’m now practicing on Vinnie.  LOL.   Luv you Gussy!

— Carol from Tulsa, OK