Charles
We lost our beloved Charles on June 29th, 2008. He died at the age of 12 after sharing his love with us since he was 8 weeks old. From his first days with us until he was 6 years old, we had him in the truck with us. We always laughed that he had lifted his leg in 48 states and Canada. His main love in life was chasing tennis balls. He could fetch for hours on end. He never slept very deeply, he always had one eye open, ready to warn us of any danger. He was my big boy and will always have a special place in my heart. He is up there now with his buddy, Peter. I will miss you forever, my Charles.

Fifi
Fifi was a very shy dog. I knew when I saw her at the shelter that she was very special. I had to sit in the kennel with her for about 30 minutes before she would allow me to slip on the leash. Then it took another 15 minutes or so before I could get her out of the kennel and in the car. I had her at home for two days, gradually earning her trust when she came down with signs of Parvo. I didn't have any medication on hand, but as soon as I could get some, I started nursing her. I gave her medication every hour for 18 hours. It looked like she might have turned the corner when she suffered a relapse and died. During all of the nursing, she knew that I was trying to help her, and we formed a bond. She will be forever on my heart, and because of her, I learned more about Parvo, and have successfully nursed 2 more dogs through the disease. Fifi, you didn't deserve what life handed you and I know you are happy and safe now.

Juno
Thank you again for your kindnesses and time. Juno made an enormous impact on our lives in the brief time we shared with her. To honor her beautiful spirit, we've decided to save a dog or 2 from a local shelter. We'll be bringing a young adult pitbull terrier home, who has the sweetest disposition. We watched him a very long time Saturday, and believe he will be happy (& healthy!) with us. There's also a sweet older dog who might be hopping aboard. As I explained to Clay regarding you and your husband...what's one more dog? Thank you for being an angel during our dark time, and for shedding much needed light to guide us back on our way. I feel fortunate to have had as much selfless & wonderful support as we've had. Thank you for your well wishes.

Rocky
Dear Rocky: I just wanted to send you a quick note to thank you for being the best little dog anyone could have wanted in the family. You were always faithful, loyal, and true. You made us smile and you were always so glad to see us when we opened the door at the end of the day. For years, you were a constant in our home. No one could have asked for a better friend. We are so sorry and sad to see you go. I only hope I can be the friend to others that you have been to me and Ramon. When we took you to the vet's office this afternoon to say good-bye, I knew that we would be leaving a small but significant part of ourselves behind. When I walk around the house now, it seems empty and cold. Our home will not be the same without you now. I want you to know how much you meant to us. I have to admit that when Ramon brought you and your sister Bess home that day in March of 2000, I had my reservations. All the schnauzers I had ever met were yappy and high-strung, and I had - over the years - become an admitted cat person. Dogs had become too high-maintenance and complicated in my world. But when I unlocked the back door and walked in to find you and Bess, anxiously wagging your tails at me, I had to give you a chance. Two hours later when you started dancing around at the sight of my hand holding the new leashes that Ramon had left hanging on the back door, I knew we would be friends. We took a half-hour's walk through the neighborhood, and you both had me laughing by the time we returned home. Rocky, the way you chewed at the lead and gamboled along the sidewalk had me in stitches; seeing your joy at the simple act of taking a walk outside restored my faith in humankind and reminded me of the of simplest of virtues in man's best friend. That very night you were sleeping at my side and there weren't many nights after that you couldn't be found cuddled up next to us. You were always there when we laughed and had dinner parties; usually you ended up curled up on my lap as we drank wine after the meal and told stories into the wee hours of the morning. You were also there when we fought and screamed and argued about how to pay the bills in the big house on Third Street. Whatever happened, you were always our Rocky, a little bundle of salt-and-pepper fur who was always happy to be in someone's lap, usually mine. You made me a better, happier person. Years later, when you started to waste away, your hearing went, and your mind started to wander, I often found myself loosing patience with you. Although I kept reminding myself that you had no control over the situation, I was ashamed to realize I was ignoring you and brusquely pushing you aside when an extra minute's attention would have cost me very little energy during my busy schedule. This last week when I tried to make up for lost time by caressing and coddling you as much as I could in a last-minute effort to ease your anxiety as the ravages of old age and disease caught up with you, I was once again confronted by the fleeting nature of our existence. Now that you're gone, I can only relive the good times and vow to be a better and more understanding friend to future members of the family. Ramon has lit candles by your pictures, and even though you're gone, we're still keeping your memory alive here on Deerwood Avenue. I'll make sure the candles don't go out tonight in the hopes that that little bit of light will help you on your journey to the other side, wherever that takes you. I imagine you will end up in a big park with grassy meadows and hills like those at Cherokee Park. And I hope there are lots of squirrels for you to chase. Most of all, I hope you finally catch one. Farewell, our faithful and loyal friend. We'll take care of Bess for you. You don't know how much you will be missed. David

Wolfie
Wolfie lost his long fight with cancer and arthritis on Friday, January 23. He was the toughest dog I have ever met. Through all of this........He never complained (unless he was just doing the old man "grumping"). He never whimpered (unless you had food that you weren't sharing with him). He never gave up (until his body said he had to). He has given to me so much love and friendship and so many laughs. He let me lay on him and cry during my tough times and he has made me laugh until I cried (mostly by doing funny things to Beth). He has seen me through a lot of ups and downs. Yet he never complained or loved me any less. He was always happy to see me and spend time with me.....especially when the Go Cats were on. He protected me. He comforted me. He befriended me. And he truly loved me. And for all of that I am eternally grateful that I had the amazing, fun and irreplaceable 13 years with him. I know that he is now running, jumping and playing like he hasn't been able to do for years. He is going for w-a-l-k-s (you have to spell it), chasing the tennis ball, romping in the snow, eating people food, cheering on the Go Cats, chewing on his giant bone, smiling and showing teeth at everyone. But mostly I know he is watching over me and will always be my Big Dude Guardian Angel forever and I will always be ok with him on my side. I love and miss you Dude more than you will ever know. You have brought more joy to my life that I can ever thank you enough for. You are my Big Dude and there will always be a hole in my heart since you left me. I will see you again one day. RIP......... Lori