February
It was the end of September 2006 when Simon and I stopped in at Cardiff City Pound hoping to find a dog to join us in our new home. One kennel was quiet, I crouched down with my shoulder to the wire mesh - a skinny, tan dog walked forward pausing for just a second, shoulder to my shoulder, before going back to hide. He peeked out once more and caught my gaze, "Get me out of here; I'll be waiting" was how I interpreted that look. We were very happy to oblige.
We called you Kipper, soon shortened to "Kipp" along with a myriad of nick names. It was a pleasure to be in your company. You were quite simply the best dog we could have wished for, gentle, adventurous, athletic, kind hearted and brave. Originally a city boy, you took to the country life wholeheartedly and loved to bother bunnies and chase squirrels. You were also a protector of chickens, a cat cuddler, a converter of scared children, always polite - my 'go anywhere' little friend. Your soft and steady gaze is what I miss the most, you often looked at me. Whenever I sat on the floor, inside or out, you would soon join me; stopping on a walk to sit and admire the view, you would come over, briefly sniff my face, turn and sit with your bottom perched on my lap. We could stay like that for a long while, you would occasionally look back at me over your shoulder and agree that yes, it was indeed a very nice view.
We so desperately wanted you to grow old and splay toed with us, but thousands of grand mal seizures over the years had used up the energy of a lifetime. Your first seizure occurred just one month after you came to stay; we didn't have a seizure free month until 2010 when we achieved a wonderful 16 weeks - twice! We had lots of fun and adventures then. A combination of drugs and acupuncture helped, but sadly it didn't last.
Sleep tight my beautiful golden boy. Missed more than I can say by
Kate, Simon (humans) Ferris, Possum, Roo (cats) and Bruce (dog, with no big brother to woof at any more).
March
CH Furnace Hills Domino RN MH
8/ 9/ 2006 - 3/29/ 2011.
Monk, our beloved Spinone Italiano, officially named CH Furnace Hills Domino RN MH, died in March. I always supposed he would eventually die of status or some other seizure related thing, but God decided to take him earlier than we would have liked from autoimmune hemolytic anemia. We don’t know the reason, it could have been from a tick disease or from Phenobarbital reaction, or something else. He had a long stretch of being seizure free on mainly potassium bromide until it reached a toxic level and we had to back it down and add a higher dose of Phenobarbital after we had reduced that drug to minimal amounts.
Monk and I were determined to live life to the fullest and he certainly took advantage of that! He became epileptic at 20 months old, only a few weeks after finishing his breed Championship. We then concentrated on obedience (Rally), bird training and testing, and agility. Monk earned a Junior Hunter, Senior Hunter and Master Hunter titles all while epileptic. He also earned his Rally novice title earning a 2nd place at one event with a score of 96 (only beaten by a score of 97). He was just starting to really do well in agility too. Despite my less than expert handling, Monk had three clean runs with first places in each event at a trial held just a few weeks ago just one day after having a grand mal seizure. He had heart. But his favorite thing was hunting. He pointed grouse, pheasants, quail and chucker with style and consistency and always steadily. He also loved to swim but was forced to do less of it while under the influence of potassium bromide.
Monk also loved to curl up on our loveseat and play with our now 10 month old puppy, Poggi. He tolerated the typical puppy antics well, even nips on his butt by the ever playful Poggi. Monk barked at people sometimes, but once he warmed up to you, he was your friend for life, especially if you had a little something in your pocket to feed him. Monk never gave up as long as I didn’t. He always did whatever I asked of him and more. I always considered the titles “gravy”, what mattered more was that he was staying in good physical shape and was having fun. But in the end, he was tired of fighting illnesses and needed a rest.
Monk was deeply loved by my husband and I, and our many friends. He inspired many for his guts and lovability. He was a hero to those with epileptic dogs because he was proof of what epileptic dogs could do if we facilitated their activities…they needn’t just become couch potatoes. He was really a character as witnessed by attendees at a dog show who came up to us after Monk’s class (where he didn’t get any points) and told us they were his fan club. We will always love you, Monk.
Dee and Jon Lehman, and all his fans…for showing them what is possible even if you are epileptic.
April
Found 1999 - 4/24/2011
My husband Sean found Lola roaming the streets at LAX in 1999 and she was approximately three years old then. She was a Jindo/Chow mix. She left us for the bridge on Sunday, April 24, 2011 (Easter Sunday).
Lola was the sweetest, kindest most gentle dog you'll ever meet. When we introduced our Epi Buster to her in 2005, she immediately became his best friend. She, being much larger than Buster, knew her limitations during their many playful wrestling matches, always letting Buster win.
I will miss the "flat tires" she gave me every morning, following so closely behind me in anticipation of a treat. I will miss the way she howled in her scruffy "old lady" voice when she got excited. I will miss the way she loved Buster. I will miss the way she loved us all...unconditionally.
Our love was Lola. We miss you more than words can express. Thank you for making us smile and laugh out loud, every day for 12 years.
Waiting for
Gina & Sean
May
7/1/2000 - 18/5/2011
With great sadness and full of tears I have to tell you our special Tibetan Mastiff boy Tarim crossed the rainbow bridge. He died peacefully in my arms at 11.5 years of age on 18-05-2011 due to cancer. It’s hard to believe he is no longer here. We can still remember how he came to live with us at 8 weeks old. Tarim was a sensitive and very smart puppy. When the breeder put a music box between the puppies he was the one that would sit at a distance and observe and when all his brothers and sisters had checked it out, and he knew it was safe, he went over to check it out himself. In the evening when it got dark we had to walk him with the whole family else he felt insecure and would not go. He was also impressed by the adult Akita living behind our house and the adult big dogs at the dogs playfield. But quickly the years went by and he grew into a confident beautiful boy with such a royal dignified attitude almost always the leader of a group of dogs. On the local dogs playfield he was always the boss of the dogs. He was known there as “the gate keeper”, “King Tarim”, “The arranger”. He was always guarding the gate there and if two little dogs where bickering he would walk over bowing his wise head near the little doggies like saying “hee little ones are you done now”. And if that did not help put his front paw between them. It was also funny to see him go on patrol on “his” dogs playfield and if he rushed off next to the fence being followed by all the dogs. Follow the leader! Such a personality of course had a lot of girlfriends. A schnauzer – Great Dane mix and a Rottweiler – Sheppard mix and other girls loved him and he liked them in his calm dignified Tibetan way. You could see in his glittering eyes he loved the girls attention. He was well known in the neighborhood.
When Tarim was 3 years a puppy arrived at our house… Fang. He became his big role model and mentor. He taught him everything and later also our rehome female Asia. He learned Fang as a pup that he has to wash himself especially the eyes (if he had not done it properly he would lick his eyes). That the humans do not like it if you dig holes (Tarim would lie down over the holes that Fang could not dig anymore on that spot). That birds bigger then pigeon size have to be chased away. And he told them when the little birds scream from panic as a big bird of prey is chasing them you have to help by jumping and barking. That you can peep through certain holes in the fence to see what the neighbors do and it’s funny to suddenly bark a short “boo” to startle people. That you have to rush along the fence if the neighbors drive by. They also learned to put the chewing thing between their 2 front paws to chew it more easily. He also let them know it is dirty to pee or poop in the garden. They also learned the normal route and rest places on the sand place from him. He was a great teacher.
Tarim loved to travel with us in the camper as a modern nomad. He has been from the north of Europe Norway, Sweden, Danemark, Belgium, France to Portugal and so on. He liked it the most to lie in the grass near the camper and watch all the people on the camping and what they do. He was always curious where we ended up now. I have had him jump on my lap while we drove up the camping to have the best view. He was always a big eye catcher on the camping. People would make an extra round over the camping to see him once they heard about him from other camping guests.
Tarim was very committed to us and part of the family life. We had a great bound. When a family member got sick and got home he followed that person for days like a shadow. He would place himself in a position he could check the face and expression. My mother once fell asleep in a chair. I found him with his front paws between her legs and his head near my mother’s face checking on her. He liked to enter my bedroom during the night to check on me and when he saw everything was ok he would fall asleep near my bed. Tarim always wanted to know what was going on with his fam. and understand everything and had great compassion for his humans. Like he could look inside your soul. He was amazing and the stories mentioned above will always be cherished and remembered!
We will miss you dear boy.
For ever in our hearts and memories..
Loved by
Claudia Bomhof and the rest of the family
Tarim, Fang and Asia
1/31/10- 7/19/11
It’s not a stretch to say he was a small dog with a big personality. When he started falling ill, his personality started to fade as well. It’s almost like the life was just sucked right out of him. Oscar was gone before his physical being was gone.
That is how I know he stopped fighting.
Even through all the seizures he’d had in the past year, he always bounced back. But part of me knew that he wasn’t, in fact, going to bounce back from this, especially after getting bad news on a morning I was preparing to bring him home and nurse him back to health myself.
The choice came down to whether I was going to keep going to try to save Oscar and be fully committed, or the other option that I’d been dreading since the day I got him…euthanasia.
The unpredictable outcome of the organ troubles he was having combined with uncontrolled seizure activity worse than I’d probably ever seen, unfortunately steered me in the direction of Option B. Verbalizing those words, “We have to stop,” was like upchucking knives.
When Oscar had his last seizure in my arms, I knew it had to be done. He was done fighting. He was sprawled in my lap with my hand cupping his face as he went limp. I looked into his little face as the doctor picked him up and he was, in fact, gone. I kissed him on his mouth and that’s the last mental image I will ever have of him. He’s now resting—SEIZURE-FREE—under a canopy of trees at our family home. He always preferred the shade.
We may have only had that one year together, but it was probably the best year of my life. Yes, through all the unpredictable nights, all the bloodwork, everything…it was the best year. I don’t regret keeping him, nor the costs surrounding his condition. Oscar taught me how to love something so deeply that you would do anything for them—even end their suffering. He taught me to rearrange my priorities, to be more patient and responsible, less selfish, more caring and loving.
I will miss him every day. I will probably cry every day for a long time. But I guess that’s a small price to pay for all that he’s given me.
Waiting for Erin
Born 2004, rescued me in July 2005
Gone to the bridge June 2011
You made me happy, brave and whole - I'll miss you always my beautiful boy!
Waiting for Sue
