Beary, my Welch Terrier who was a big part of my life for 13 years died yesterday. When I first brought him to my Vet when he was 5 months old, on his paper under “distinguishing  features,” they put “very cute.”   He was a “people dog” who loved everyone, and was even excited when we went to his Vet, and was always glad to see  him!  Every morning, he reminded me it was time for our morning walk, his favorite time of the day, and was always excited, wagging his tail, when he saw someone and took time for a little visit with everyone he met.  The last couple of weeks, as he began to slow down, our walks became a little slower, and finally, I carried him home on the way back.  When I took him to his Vet yesterday morning to be checked again, he called an hour later and said there were major problems and readings were low for heart, etc.  A half hour later, he called and said “Beary is dying.”  I said I’d be right over, and when I got there 5 minutes later, he said Beary had died, but they brought him back, so I could have some time with him.  I told him how much I loved him and what a good doggie he was, and kept petting him and talking to him until the end.  I will always be so grateful to our wonderful vet for making sure I got the chance to say goodbye to my sweet Beary.
I also have two Yorkies, and they always knew that Beary was the #1 dog in our home.  They are missing Beary too.  Right now, every time I look at one of his favorite places, or friends call to say they are sorry for my loss, the tears start.  Beary will always be a part of me, and I still talk to him.  I’m not into digital cameras yet, so can’t send a picture of my beautiful little friend who I love so much…

— Barbara from Reno, NV

Pacey Oliver Stagg had been with us since he was rescued form a shelter 12 years ago.  On April 12 2012 Pacey made his journey across the rainbow bridge cut a rapid onset of cancer.  He leaves a huge hole in our hearts but we were blessed and thankful for his love in our lives for as long as we had with him.

— Brett from Hawthorne, CA

On Wednesday of this week, I too had to make the heart wrenching decision to put down my dog Lucky, a beautiful brown and white Dalmatian, who had developed a brain tumor.  He had been rescued from a shelter eight years earlier and we guessed his age to be about 12.   The anguish, guilt and loss of my best friend were overwhelming.  My wife and I had also opted for no MRI or surgery 6 months earlier and that decision is now haunting me.  On Wednesday I took the day off from work to be with Lucky and to say our good bys.  The vet came to my home around 12:30PM.  During the last couple of hours Lucky had shown some signs of improvement; circling but at least on his feet. We were on our deck and the morning sun was warm.  I had given him all the chopped turkey and his favorite dog treats that he could eat; he had a ravenous appetite.  Like Sprite, Lucky put his nose into the wind and seemed to be enjoying the moment.  I was sitting on the deck hugging and kissing him and telling him how much I loved him and that I would never forget him.  He put his chin on my shoulder and whimpered; he was hurting and it seemed to be his way of telling me it was okay.  Only a few days have passed since then and I am still in great pain.

— Gary from Fredericksburg, VA

We brought Wiper into our family while living in South Korea and he has been with us for over 9 years now.  We just found out today that he has been diagnosed with Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia (IMHA).  The doctors have told us that there is a 50% survival rate.  He is still strong and started steroid treatment today.  This is our families first pet although we adopted a shelter dog 6 years ago as well.  We’re at a loss on how to get through a crisis like this.

— Paul from Wellington, FL

Max passed away Monday, April 16th 2012.  He was 13 years old.  I adopted him when he was 1 from a shelter in Gainesville, FL.  He stuck his head out of the kennel he was in and I immediately knew I wanted to take him home.  He slept on the foot of my bed every single night.  He loved to walk, ride in my truck, and play with his friends at the dog park.  We moved to Wisconsin in 2006 where he spent the rest of his life.  Both knee ligaments were replaced 4 years ago. He loved to play in the snow but didn’t care much for water. In his senior years he enjoyed laying in the yard, helping in the garden, and looking for squirrels in the trees. Max wasn’t eating much and having trouble walking his last few days.  We went to the vet and it was a tumor.  He was in some discomfort and the vet said it was going to get worse.  Judging by his blood test he only had a few days left.  I would not allow him to live with any pain and decided it was time to let him go. I laid on the floor next to him at the vets office and he died in my arms. I love him so much and miss him greatly.  He is my best friend and the best dog a man could ask for.  I feel truly blessed to have been a part of his life.  Thank you Mark Levin for all you do for shelter pets.  Thank you for having a place where we can come and share a bit about our story together, and thank you for giving us a place to read about the stories of others.  Goodbye Maxie boy, daddy loves you, and someday we will be together again.

— Max from Maupun, WI

O’le was a helper cat that looked as if he had lived a thousand years.  Old and arthritic, he would care for other cats and kittens. O’le would wash them and train them to be good cats. He was a nondescript gray cat with a bit of yellow on the belly.  Torn ears and scares on his face.

He was named O’le by a very old lady who lived in a manufactured home in a trailer park in the farmland outside Hillsboro.  They were a pair.  Margaret was raised in a cave/sod home in the side of a mountain in a very cold Canadian countryside.  O’le would come up the ramped to her front door every day.  He had done that for years and she did not know where he came from or where he went after eating.  She fed him until he came to me because Margaret was too ill and fell a lot.

At my home, he put the other cats in their place, but also cared for others that were sick.  O’le would wash kittens and big cats alike.

It was his intense green eyes that made you think he had been around before man and he must know everything.  He trained other cats to be helpers and they have continued to this day even though he has been gone almost 10 years.

St. O’le still lives in our hearts.

— Glacier & Ron from Sheridan, OR