To My Dearest Friends
Cindy- I was four when I begged my mommy for the puppy under the church bus. "No," she said "it's probably sick and covered in fleas." We were already in the yard when she figured out that my dad had slipped you in the back seat with me. 8 years later, you were but a 10 pound terrier who chased a robber into the street and that truck never saw you.
Brandy the 1st: I was 6 and backed against the fence by a stranger on the street. Even though you were the sweetest doberman I ever owned, you dragged him back into the road, the car missed him but it didn't miss you. At the vet office you wouldn't move, or whine, or even wag your tail until I came in. I begged you to get up, but you couldn't, then with your head in my little lap you surrendered to the angels.
Brandy the 2nd: I was 7 when my daddy brought you home. He told you I had a broken heart and whispered to you to go lick my cheek. You did and I was hooked. When I was 12 the vet said you had a body full of cancer. He said you had about 2 months left to live and that putting you down would be best. At 14 I came home from school, but I couldn't find you. I searched and searched until I found you in the horse pasture curled up over Brandy the 1st's grave with my horse Bradley nickering softly and nudging you. With a final breath you gazed up at me with that dobie look of "let me go" and gave a soft whine, licked my hand and went away.
Ginger: You were our first chihuahua. You gave birth to over 50 puppies. Each went to loving homes and families. Each year we get Christmas cards from almost every one. No one knows why you died, or what caused the seizure, but one day in my arms you left me forever. You had 3 still nursing puppies. Don't worry, we hand-nursed them and made sure they were fine.
Angel: You were a sweet loving chihuahua who would chase us in fun, barking and wagging your tail. You were a beautiful blue ball of love. We don't know how or why you left the yard, but that's where we found you that afternoon.
Tracy: You had a wonderful and full life as my mom's lapdog. One morning you just didn't get off the couch.
Pebbles: You chased a burglar out of the yard, we looked for hours for you. You had four 5 week old babies at the house. The next morning we found you. Both your back legs were shattered and open. You had managed to drag yourself almost a quarter mile to the gate.
For all my babies, one day I will join you at the rainbow bridge to enter heaven, and I promise I'll have a pocket full of puperoni sticks!
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