“Pet Remembrances” is dedicated to honoring the memory and spirit of beloved family member pets that have passed away, in their owner’s own words.
We found Bear at Heartland Humane Society at the end of January, 1998. He was there because he “got too muddy.” Really? A big puppy in Oregon in the winter, muddy? Their loss was our gain; he was a wonderful dog. Bear was a mix of Chow and German Shepherd (I’m pretty sure). He had a barrel chest and cowboy legs, coppery fur like a Chow but shorter, and big brown eyes. And the best smile. He obligingly took his cues from our older dog, Siskiyou, who housebroke him for us (we were grateful). He had a lot of energy, and he talked a lot, especially if left alone in the backyard. He was a real hand (paw? tooth?) at eating the fence, usually when he was upset or scared. Bear watched TV. I don’t mean that he looked up when he heard an animal sound; he didn’t need any sounds to notice an animal (or something weird, like Alf) on the TV. The first time he saw a creature there, he looked at the TV, behind the entertainment center, in the room behind the entertainment center. Determining that there was no animal any of those places, proceeded to bark at the screen—and sometimes jump at it or whack it with his paws. Bear began having trouble with his hind end (legs, that is) nearly four years ago. An evaluation with Dr. Moore suggested that Physical Therapy on the treadmill and exercises would help. But before we could start on that, Bear was diagnosed with a fast-growing tumor on his leg. He had surgery for it almost immediately—ending up with an “upper arm tuck” and a graft of long fur on his lower leg, but no cancer. Bear loved PT, much to my surprise. He didn’t like water—talking despairingly during every bath—so I thought he’d object to the underwater treadmill. He loved it. From the first day, he wagged his curly tail and grinned. And he loved the ball and was proud that WHAH had to get a bigger one just for him. He didn’t like the balance board and was very clever about trying to fool Trina. (She was onto him.) Without the PT—and later supplements, VOM, cold laser, and manual therapy—Bear wouldn’t have been able to walk; I don’t know how long it would have taken, but he certainly wouldn’t have made it to almost 15! He also thrived on attention…from anybody. He was a little weird with other dogs (since the time our older dog died), but he took great joy in scaring them if he could! (The day he had a youngish Great Dane hiding behind its owner was a wonderful day for him.) And he never said no to a treat. Maybe that’s why he liked PT so much. I’m grateful to everyone at West Hills Animal Hospital, especially Trina and Dr. Moore, for their excellent care of Bear and for loving him almost as much as I did. I’m also grateful to the people who gave him up, ‘cause we got the dog you didn’t realize was unique and special and loving and totally lovable. I miss you, my Bear-dog.
Melissa R. Weintraub
Coco was a beloved member of our family for 18 years and we miss him very much. As you can see, he loved to chew up his perch, newspapers and cardboard. We received him when he was about 6-7 years old and quickly became a very special member of our family. We will never forget you Coco , you will always be in our hearts – Cathleen Bradford and Timothy Stanton
6/25/10 – 1/3/11
Our hope was to give you a better life, but all we had were a few short weeks to fill you with unconditional love. We kept you safe and warm and you learned to trust again. In the end we sent you on your way surrounded by all who had touched by your wonderful spirit. We will never forget you.
Your West Hills Family
My little Tai Tai. You were rescued by the Human Society from a hellish situation. All we knew to do was to love you, when you came to us so damaged. Despite living with horrible emotional and physical pain, you were always loving, never complaining. May God heal you, and let you run free forever.
Love and nose rubs forever, Your Human Mom
My little lifesaver. I owe you my life. The Humane Society said we couldn’t adopt you, since it was October, and you were a black furred cat. Within minutes you convinced them, that you had to go home with us, that instant! On numerous occasions, when I had stopped breathing in my sleep, you bounced on my chest until I woke up. I knew that if you were on my pillow, I was forever safe. May you keep Heaven awake with your purring, and have a soft pillow to lay on for eternity.
Love and nose rubs forever, Your Human Mom
My Best Friend Mr. Boyd
Boyd was my unconditional best friend. I miss him terribly. I keep waiting to hear him rattle his collar, bark, shake, chase the UPS truck… but alas, I can only remember those things in my heart. His spirit lives on. – Pamela Street.