A Letter to Passion, Our Everlasting Friend

by Jon Brooks
(Cleveland, Ohio)

You came into our life in the most convoluted way possible. Our neighbors, who neglected you woefully and left you chained outside most of late spring, all summer and early fall, and then locked you in the basement for the duration of the year, year after year, only allowed us to get to know you over the fence.

Mom, who couldn't pass up those sad eyes, would feed you and keep you in fresh water and a kind word several times a day when she could. I helped too, though not as much as Mom. You would bark so mournfully when she would leave. You would lie down by the fence and whine.

We implored them for several years to give you to us, that we would give you a good home and love.

Finally on Valentines Day 2011, Mike, the only one who cared for you over there, stopped them hitting you on one of the rare occasions you were let up from the basement, and told them that Jon and Margo would really love to give Passion a home.

Again I say, Thank You Lord, since they relented and Mike brought you over.

Mom and I had to teach you from scratch how to be social with the cats, and that it was okay to push a door open, that you didn't have to flinch and cringe if we moved too fast near you, that you had a name and it wasn't something that was just yelled at you out of meanness.

There were many more new things you learned too, and one of them was that we came to love you even more and that you knew that.

You never kissed us back when we planted a big wet smooch on your head. That always hurt. But I understand that that level of caring for a human never flowered where you were imprisoned and it would take a few more years maybe.

One thing you did repay a thousand fold was Mom's love for you. You were her constant companion. The smile she brought to your face was so precious, as much as the smiles you brought to Mom.

One precious moment, and there were many more, Passion, was when Mom and I taught you how to play. That it was okay to romp and throw the polar bear into the air and bite the bejesus out of it and then let me and Mom chase you with "polar bear" dangling from your mouth, with the biggest grin on your face. Your smile was beautiful, little girl.

Then came that day at the vets. You had collapsed and Mom called me at work and I came home to take you in. You seemed okay by the time I got home and when the vet said he felt something by your ribs and could he do an x-ray... That was the day my world fell apart, and Mom's.

Your liver was the largest he had ever seen in a dog, even with cancer. It had metastasized to both your lungs so that only the upper tips of your lobes were relatively cancer-free. He looked at me and said... "I can't understand why she isn't already dead."

I think I know, Passion. Your love for Mom, and a wee bit for me ('twas good enough) was the only thing that mattered to you.

In your own way, you cared for Mom so much that "nothing" would separate you from her, even if you had to smile through the almost unbearable pain of cancer eating you away, to show it.

Rest in peace now, little girl. The guy upstairs loves you a billion times more than anyone you've ever known. Don't forget about us, okay? Mom and I will see you again.


Mom and Dad

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Passion, You Have a Friend Coming to See You
by: Jon Brooks

It's been almost a year since you left us on October 4th. Tears still come easily thinking about you, little girl. But this is not for me today. Your friend Julie the evil kitty is coming to join you today.

Remember how she used to rub on you, then go nose to nose with you wagging her tail like a dog. You would grab a toy and play with it in front of her, hoping she would do a tug-o-war and act a little more dog-like, but alas she would just rub on you more.

If you can, Passion, gather up Wagner, Maggie, Floppsy, and Pepe, they all knew Julie too, and greet her one more time. She loved all you guys too.

Love Mom and Dad.

Thank You
by: Jon


Thank you for the kind words. When Mike brought her over she was 42 lbs and her coat was dull brown and sparse. In about a year of spoiling her, she was up to around 72 lbs and her coat had sprung back to white, tan and black.

She was a beautiful shepherd mix. After what she had gone through in her early life, she overcame it and was very kind and considerate. She finally gained confidence in herself. It was a joy and blessing to watch her grow emotionally.

I miss her very much.

How Beautiful
by: Barb

Your precious pup was so fortunate to have lived with you and to know what love really was. How blest you were to receive love from one who had been treated so badly.

Bless you for giving your precious a wonderful life.

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