Penny was a good dog.

Or IS Penny a good dog? Is or was? Which is right when a dog lives on in your memory? For that is what Penny will do.

We will remember the Penny who growled and lunged at the monster in the blanket.

When she blazed at full speed as she chased us around the outside of the house … after we got a big head start. And of course, how she loved to track down the hider in hide-and-seek. How she sat at the back door, seeming to know just when someone was about to pull into the driveway. How excited she got when she saw the grandparents … or anyone, really. But especially the grandparents. Or how she knew when we were pulling on the grandparents’ streets as we drove in the car. How she really, really wanted to chase those rabbits and sometimes snuck out the door before we could stop her. Did she really track down and kill that rabbit?  How she loved to play fetch … unless the ball rolled too far. And the Cone Bone. I know I will remember her as my once-a-week running companion … at least if it wasn’t too hot out.

I remember when we first got her. Don Rodenbaugh said she would become part of our family. I wondered about that at the time. She was, after all, just a dog. But she has become part of our family. She arrived nearly 13 years ago when our family was still forming and making bonds. Penny was a part of that. I doubt Jason recalls life without her.

She blended into our hectic life, even though she wanted her alone time, too. I recall the time as a puppy when she chased after Jason as he ran through the house nearly naked. As they both scampered along, Penny nipped at his underwear, somehow never catching skin. I remember that as the time when I knew I could trust Penny. She was one of us. She loved us. Maybe she loved everyone, but I guess that’s OK. That’s what is cool about being a dog. … D.O.G….G.O.D. Perhaps you recall the song on YouTube.

I remember when Matt really wanted Penny to sleep in her bed. Penny didn’t really like that, but she obliged … for Matt’s sake. As soon as he was asleep, she jumped down and found her private spot.  For a while, that was under David’s
bed, until we found out she was digging a hole in the carpet. Then eventually, she got too fat to sneak under the bed. Then at times (many times?) Mom would bring Penny into our bed. When I would come up the steps, I would hear tha-thump as Penny jumped down before I could come into the room.

Penny was always tuned to what we were doing and how we were feeling. When she was young, she always knew when I was going out for a run. But she didn’t like when we weren’t getting along. She seemed to find a lot of comfort standing in between my legs if an argument broke out. What did she do when I was the one raising my voice?

Penny was part of us until the end.  David was home last weekend and found that everyone else just had taken photos with her. He wanted one, too, but there was no camera with a working battery. David was disappointed. He knew the end could be soon. And it was. Three days after David left, Penny’s back legs failed her. She could no longer walk. She whimpered in pain whenever she tried – unsuccessfully – to get up.

Penny has me wondering about death. Death comes. It always comes. And the great ones seem ready. What is it about them that they can be so eager to go and yet so full of life while they are here? They do not want to die because they are
sad or hopeless. They enjoy it here, but they are excited by what is to come as well.  What is it about these people? That is what I wonder on the day of Penny’s passing.

Singer-songwriter Rich Mullins had that desire. He wrote of going like Elijah. He died at 41 in a car crash. St. Therese, the Little Flower, knew that she could find joy in all things, even death. She died at 24.

And yet, as Father Fata just said, every story about Jesus seems to be about healing. He raised Lazarus from the dead. And the only son of the widow. And Jairus’ daughter.

Jesus thought it was better that they should live. He did not teach his people to die, but to live and to live abundantly. (John 10:10)

Like Rich Mullins and St. Therese, St. Paul was one who lived abundantly and yet wondered about the alternative. He said in Philippians, Chapter 1, that “For to me, life is Christ, and death is gain. If I go on living in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. And I do not know which I shall choose.”

And so it is for the great ones … a difficult choice. But I am surprised St. Paul wrote of a choice. Certainly, he would not see it as his right to end the precious gift of life that he had been given. I suppose he was just trying to make a point, to illustrate his two great yearnings.

But for Penny, the time of choices is over. She made it nearly 13 years. That was all the time she had. We are glad she got to spend them with us. She taught us loyalty, enthusiasm and joy. She brought us laughter and she allowed us to
experience the quiet peace that comes from being with another living creature, just resting and relaxing.

I’m in my rights to say St. Therese and St. Paul made it to heaven and I hope Rich Mullins is there, but what about Penny? Is Penny in heaven? As lovers of mystery, we Catholics should not be surprised to find difficulty in locating a
black-and-white answer.

Perhaps the better question is … So, is God in heaven? And secondly … Is God here on Earth?

Perhaps it is those answers that made Rich Mullins, St. Therese and St. Paul so comfortable in either place.

As Amy so aptly recalled from the talk of the mission speaker at church, “God is here. And God is there.”

I hope I can do better to live like I believe both.

— Don from Boardman, OH

My Maltese Missy past away about a month ago. I had her for 14 years. She was the first dog I had in my adult life. My husband and I were having difficulty conceiving and I sought alot of comfort in her and my other fur babies and they were ever so willing to reciprocate. Missy used to always offer me comfort when I was down and crying, she used to sit on my lap and cuddle me letting me know she was there for me. After 8 years of being married, my son was born on 15th March 2010, and as first time parents most of my time was dedicated to my son. It was tiring and I was failing to spend time with my fur babies. I did not neglect them but I was not giving them much attention like I used too. They didn’t seem to mind. Missy’s old age came as a huge shock to me. I didn’t realize she was getting old, I was oblivious to the fact that she would get old. Her eyesight was the first to go then came the head tilt then she just stopped eating. It all happened within a 2 week period. She just slept and we knew it was time. I cried every afternoon on our way home from work, not knowing if she would be dead or alive. I also prayed she would go peacefully in her sleep in her home but she was also a fighter and pulled through everyday.

Here in South Africa none of the vets (that I know off) are compassionate enough to come to your home to put your pet down or take our beloved to be cremated or even make house calls when they are very sick. So you are very lucky to have such passionate professionals in your midst. On Monday morning 28th May 2012 we could see Missy’s breathing became erratic. We groomed her, got the dogs around to say their good-byes, I wrapped her in her blanket and we made the trip to the vet. The vet sympathized with us and told us it was the right thing to do as her quality of life is depleted. While the vet got the sedative ready I rubbed her head and held her close. I told her that she was a great friend to me, I love her and I will miss her very her much. It was over within seconds. We took her home and buried her in the yard near a Tulasi Tree which is a sacred tree to us Hindus. A week passed and I could not get to grips with myself so I turned to the internet to read other stories and maybe find some comfort.

A couple people on different websites suggested that “Rescuing Sprite” was a good book which helped them and so I ordered it. Last night I read Sprite’s passing in tears and it suddenly dawned on me, I got 3 more fur babies, how am I to handle when their time comes calling? It’s too much for my heart to bare. After Missy’s passing I have made it my duty to give my 3 all my love and attention and I let them know how I feel everyday. Now that my son is bigger I dedicate plenty time to them that I failed to do during the past 2 years. I monitor them constantly and I will not let old age creep up and take me by surprise again. I promised to do more and try harder. I do carry guilt on my shoulders of having to have done that to Missy, but I know in my heart she is better off than suffering.

This morning I read Mitch Dolan’s email in the book which completely broke me, I sobbed all the way to work. I hope in someway all our furry babies are together in heaven watching over us and will meet all of them once again. And I hope people learn to care, respect and cherish animals. I just wanted to write in to say “Mr. Levin your book has touched my heart in many ways and has helped me through this grieving process (although I have not completed it as yet)”.

— Arashika from Kwa Zulu Natal, South Africa

Our senior dog, Amber, passed in the most incredible way on Sunday, July 8, 2012.
As she was laying on her death bed with our family surrounding her, how in her final moments her desire to express love over came all restriction in her very anguished body.  She struggled to get up, I helped her and with every ounce of energy she had left, she ran to my husband, let out a mournful moan while she collapsed and died at his feet.  Witnessing this moment left us all in a state of awe and grief.  It was so amazing.

— Linda from Malibu, CA

Vito was a puppy from a litter of 13 mixed breeds, in Sicily,Italy. The mother died, and some smart Italians left the litter, on an American Navy dependent’s doorstep. Dogs are mostly wild in Sicily. It is too expensive to keep them up. Most domesticated dogs eat pasta, instead of meat. The new owners took very good care of the puppies. They brought them to the Commissary, on base, to give them away. They were very careful to whom they gave the puppies. My husband was a doctor on the base. So he was able to get the puppy to the veterinarian, while others could not. Most, if not all, of the other 12 died of Parvo. Ours lived! He was quite large, as I wanted a puppy to replace our German Shepherd, Lupo, who died at 15 years of age. I could tell he was part Lab, and maybe a little Dalmatian, and other breeds. Long legs, long torso, long tail ….hair like a Lab. He was Black, with one foot that was speckled with black, on white. On his chest…was the Sign of the Cross, in white.

One day, when Vito was about 1 year old, he “spoke” to us. We were amazed! It sounded like he said “Hello Momma!” He would repeat it later, for a treat.

When we divorced, Vito was pretty far up there, in age. I kept Vito, and my Dalmatian went to my son. So it was just Vito, and me. He did the usual nudging me, or staring at me, if he needed to go out. I am disabled, so both us “old folks” had a difficult time. One day, I told him he needed to learn to say “out” if he wanted to go out. ( I was on the computer a lot and sometimes mistook his signals as wanting some loving)..So, I went to the door with the leash. He knew both meant “out”. I said “Owwwwt” about 3 times, pointing at the door, and then took him out.

The next day, I felt someone looking at me. I turned left, to look at him. He looked back and said “Owwwww”. He was up in age by this time.. From that day forward, Vito told me when he had to go out, by saying “Owwww”, until the day before I had to put him down. I believe he had asbestosis. He was about 12 years old. (I believe, I too, have asbestos from so much asbestosis, in the Navy housing, in the 1990’s, at the Sigonella Naval Air Station.)

I never cried so much for a pet, as I did that day!

But I will always remember my boy! What a loving dog he was!! I have his ashes in a beautiful teak box, with his collar, and a pic of him that looks like he is laughing…on top of the box. They are on my mantle, above the fireplace. He was the BEST friend I ever had! I have not gotten another dog since that day, in 2006. I cannot afford one anymore.
I miss that unconditional love a dog can give you.

So DO NOT tell me you cannot teach an old dog new tricks! And YES! You can teach an intelligent dog how to talk!

— Barbara from Mt. Pleasant, SC

Knowing your love of animals, I wanted to share our story about Raleigh with you.  We’ve had him since he was a pup.  He is now approaching 14 years.  However, his health is deterorating as his legs are very weak.  It is sad to see this condition as he was such a vibrant, energetic, and happy English Springer Spaniel.  (Tears are flowing as I am typing this – sorry). He is a best friend and an integral part of our family. Needless to say, we are approaching the point where we have to make the humane and compassionate decision.
Raleigh still has the “twinkle” and “spark” in his eyes and is always giving of licks and kisses despite his condition.  We love Raleigh so much….
It hurts…..

— Bill from Lincoln, CA

All of our pets were “found” or “free”. When my daughter graduated from high school, we asked her what she wanted for a graduation gift. She said all she wanted was a dog. The previous year our black lab, Pete had died at the ripe old age of 17. We had had the dogs before we had the kids and she missed him.

So…we looked in a local paper and found a “free” golden retriever in a nearby suburb. When we got there, we found a year old puppy who was kept on a porch year round. She was scared of the male homeowner and even the kids didn’t shed a tear. Only the mother seemed to care. This wasn’t a low income neighborhood, but it was definitely some substandard humanity in the way she was treated. I couldn’t leave her there.

As “free” dogs often are, when we go her home we took her to the vet and found out she was heartworm positive. After two rounds of treatment and the required quiet inside environment, she became a full time indoor dog.

She’s ten now and that scared puppy that startled at everything and barked at trucks is now the queen of our greenbelt, joyfully chasing bunnies in our backyard and a faithful companion for my husband as he works in his home office. We love our Indy-named after the Indy 500 because it was running the day we got her.

— Ellen from Carrollton, TX