A MESSAGE FROM MAX:

My name is Max and I have a little something I'd like to whisper
in your ear. I know that you humans lead busy lives. Some have to work,
some have children to raise.

It always seems like you are running here and there, often much
too fast,often never noticing the truly grand things in life.

Look down at me now, while you sit there at your computer. See
the way my dark brown eyes look at yours? They are slightly cloudy now, that
comes with age. The grey hairs are beginning to ring my soft muzzle. You
smile at me; I see love in your eyes. What do you see in mine?

Do you see a spirit, a soul inside who loves you as no other
could in the world? A spirit that would forgive all trespasses of prior wrong
doing for just a simple moment of your time?

That is all I ask. To slow down if even for a few minutes to be
with me.

So many times you have been saddened by the words you read on
that screen, of others of my kind, passing. Sometimes we die young and oh so
quickly,sometimes so suddenly it wrenches your heart out of your throat.

Sometimes we age so slowly before your eyes that you do not even
seem to know, until the very end, when we look at you with grizzled
muzzles and cataract clouded eyes. Still the love is always there, even when
we take that long sleep, to run free in distant lands.

I may not be here tomorrow; I may not be here next week. Someday
you will shed the waters from your eyes, that humans have when deep grief
fills their souls, and you will be angry at yourself that you did not have
just "One more day" with me.

Because I love you so, your sorrow touches my spirit and grieves
me. We have now, together. So come, sit down here next to me on the floor.
And look deep into my eyes. What do you see? If you look hard and deep enough
we will talk, you and I, heart to heart. Come to me not as "alpha" or as
a "trainer" or even a "Mom or Dad", come to me as a living soul and stroke
my fur and let us look deep into one another's eyes, and talk. I may tell
you something about the fun of chasing a tennis ball, or I may tell you
something profound about myself, or even life in general. You decided to
have me in your life (I hope) because you wanted a soul to share just
such things with.

Someone very different from you, and here I am. I am a dog, but I
am alive.
I feel emotion, I feel physical senses, and I can revel in the
differences of our spirits and souls. I do not think of you as a "Dog on two
feet"---I know what you are. You are human, in all your quirkiness, and I
love you still.

Now, come sit with me, on the floor. Enter my world, and let time
slow down if even for only 15 minutes. Look deep in my eyes, and whisper to
my ears.

Speak with your heart, with your joy and I will know your true
self.

We may not have tomorrow, and life is oh so very short.

Love,
Max (on behalf of all canines everywhere)

"May be reposted and shared freely as long as this credit
appears with the post: given to J.D.Ellis 2001,
Laura Murphy
BuenaVista
Afghans & Dachshunds Since 1976

Denise & LH GSD Hogan
Kayla, GSD mix
Kassie, Japanese Spitz (both rescues)

Always in my heart LH GSD Yani (EPI & IBD) 28.5.99 -20.3.2002
Auckland
New Zealand

what a beautiful message - you have no idea how close that comes to describing how i feel - we had to have our 22month old golden lab put to sleep 3 weeks ago after she had started to become very agressive towards me - then my dad had the same treatment. i was pressurised into "giving in" and accepting the inevitable end...i have a broken heart now and cannot forgive myself for letting her down so badly. i know the sensible people keep saying "we did the right thing" - but who was it right for?? i certainly cant accept this as she was still my dog - who when she was calm, loved me and the rest of my family so much - just as we loved her...we've bought a new puppy who we pick up on sunday and i'm trying with all my strength to look forward to a new beginning but cant face the thought of another puppy taking lucy's place - can anyone tell me how to look ahead and not give our new puppy the impossible task of having to replace lucy...

Same here, I have a nearly 12 year old gsd, and this poem discribes her to a T, Made me cry bucket loads. What a beautiful poem.
Regards
Jane.

I wish I hadnt read this...no I dont..... I know she isnt a dog but my little cat, Puss, is upstairs dying and I have been doing what is said in the poem for the last 6 days. I cant get enough of her and want to be with her as much as possible. I know I wont have her after tomorrow night and after 22 years with her I dont know what to do with myself. The poem has helped me a little. I really want her to go peacefully in her sleep tonite so that what I must do for her tomorrow wont happen.
Regards Gina.

Gina,

I am really sorry about your puss. After so many years of being together it is so hard? I was thinking about your cat the other day as I stole your posting adding my nan's death to it. Sorry.

I send you my good thoughts and best wishes

Julieann

Iam going to try and read it all later had to stop it was too sad I have a 14 yr old collie and a six yr old bullmastiff that is clearly showing her age already [says she with lump in throat] Mari

that gets you--i feel my breed are like little people anyhow- they look right into you :)

That is so sad, says she tears tripping, our Bashy died last Easter, 14, cataracts, deaf and very grey, she was everywhere I went, even the toilet ! her legs gave up and the vet put her to sleep in the lounge, she never twitched, just when to sleep and is now in the garden under a bush that is just starting to shoot again.

lorraine I have a tri collie under an apple tree in the garden of the house I dont live in anymore , the apples grow in abundance every year. my sister lives next door to the new neighbours so i can still look over the wall and say hi bobby. none in this garden so far, the longer the better I dont know!!! the things we do to ourselves:(

Hi Lesley,
Please accept my condolences about your 22 month goldie. The whole situation just sounds so sad. But you do need to put the guilt behind you and try to accept that you did the best at the time that you could with what you had for her.

No matter what, you tried to look out for her best interests. You have to believe this in yourself. Otherwise the doubt and guilt will eat you for years. Hindsight is usually 20/20 and you can think of "what might have beens" until you go mad. Please find away to accept your grief and end your guilt before your health is affected. Your dog certainly would not want you to think like this. She just loved you and would hate to see you eating yourself up about this.

--- I do understand how you feel, I was put in a similar situation with an older dog's health problems, and four years later, I still wonder if I had her pts too soon. I believe often that I didn't try to help her as much as I could have. It will probably be hanging there on the edge of my thoughts of her forever. I just avoid the guilt and attempt to not let it eat me up anymore. --- I do know that having two other dogs to come home to and cry on, really helped me through this difficult time. They were not replacing her ever, but they were also my faithful companions.

The puppy that you now have, should never be viewed as a "replacement dog." She will have her own quirks and temperment. If she's the same breed as your previous dog, this could get more difficult as a resemblance grows. But there is room in your heart for both dogs, so she isn't replacing anything, just "adding to".... your life. She'll just want to be loved, too.

There are books out there to help with grieving and coming to terms with the loss of pets. Perhaps one might help more than any of us can say in these brief postings. I wish you all of the best. I hope your sadness will be cheered by the puppy.

Take care,
Sara

---I do take comfort that "Pepper" is still with me. Her ashes are in a small Ivory coloured heartshaped box sitting behind me in a bookcase. I planned to spread them into the wind along her favorite lake when we returned to Germany, but changed my mind. She was a world traveller bringing smiles to everyone she ever met, well, except for swans
...better travelled than many people (Harrogate, Eng.- Sembach & Bitburg, GE. -> NJ -> TX-> New Mexico -> UT -> Seattle, WA -> Grand Canyon, AZ -> NM. Now she's back in Germany and I think she'd like to go along to wherever we end up next in a couple of years.

Beautiful poem. Very appropriate to the rat race world us humans love to subject ourselves to.
Thanks for posting it.
Sara

Have just got up and thought I'd look at the new posts on this site - I am now sitting here with tears streaming down my face. So moving.

Oh Lord, what you have started (Carolyn, Lesley, Sharon & everyone). I'm now bawling my eyes out looking at an email I sent to my husband after I had to put Pepper to sleep (He was in Korea for a year). Really started the memories going along with tears. What a way to start out the day.

I thought I'd share the whole kit and kaboodle of the roller coaster emotions I went through when I had to have Pepper pts for kidney problems (1985-1998). We had her for the last 6 years of her life, but she made such an impression on us in that short time. I do take pride that I kept my promise to her that she would never be passed to another home and I would protect her from little boys.
What we go through for our own little pets:

Subject: Pepper's unofficial obituary
Date: Wed, 15 Apr 1998 17:18:15 -0600
From: ek@........
To: fearghus@.......

Dear Michael,
I'm sorry about you being bummed. I know you loved Pepper, but I've never been sure how much, so I'm not even sure on how to talk about it. Between you talking baby talk & carrying her on your back in that pack, I know that you cared about her very much. Pepper could be very easy or extremely difficult to love. She was a very complex dog which could rouse complex feelings. Trust me, the past few days I've been wondering about my guilty feelings, actions and such. Sometimes I'm content she's gone --I can't really say "glad" about it.... My house actually smells clean for the first time in months. It was smelling like a sick room for so long, I didn't even notice it. Stacey even got used to it.

It feels as if I have so much more free time. I don't have to give out pills or worry about her eating. I'm not getting up every five minutes in the evening to let her out & I'm no longer cleaning up the continual messes. I'm not having to check where she is or is not. Chienne hasn't growled at anything in hours. I yelled at Pepper the past week quite a bit because I was frustrated about her messes from both ends. I know she was stone deaf and half blind, but I feel so bad about letting out the frustration that way.

That's what I feel guilty about along with not missing the continual cleaning. After I gave her the antibiotics and her peeing only lessened, I think I knew that things weren't going good. Instead of treating her better, I yelled at all the dogs, and especially her. She was continually in the way, even more so than usual. I nearly broke limbs trying to avoid her. I think it was her going away.... mentally.

I did hold her more in the past month, especially at the computer & on the sofa. I really miss the dog she used to be. The one who walked under the horses in the pasture, while they nosed her & stepped very carefully to avoid her. Pepper's charging at the cows, swans, ducks & whatever animal earned her displeasure by its appearance. The fact that she knew her way home after only one month of living with us. The one who kept me company climbing up the side of the steep hills and waded through the "hated" water in the rivers just for the love of moi. Who loved sitting on the ledge in the ancient Mercedes while the wind blew through her hair.

I loved watching her gaze out of the Pepper-sized windows at the trailer or pace along the fence drooling after the hated cats. She took her guard duties so seriously for so long. She loved the sun here so much. She was proud & noble, it showed in her trot which could outpace us. Her aging was so gradual, in surprise I would realize another geriatric trait had crept into her body. I would laugh a little about it, but I knew that her time was limited. Her hair was graying along the temples to match the color on her back. The other day, I noticed silver tips on her blond hairs between her tulip ears showing her age even more.

Last night, I unconsciously waited to hear her toenails tripping across the linoleum to her bed like she always did. I wanted this morning for her to announce her presence to me by standing on her hindlegs and greeting me at the computer. I even heard Sam growl and thought it was Pepper anouncing that she wanted to go outside. Yesterday Stacey came over to let the dogs out. After they raced out of the crate and she walked them to the backdoor, they ran back and jumped on the sofa looking for Pepper in her typical spot. Last night they went through all of the beds in the house looking for her. Chienne went spastic when I asked her if she was looking for Pepper. They had such a love/hate relationship together, but she still misses her.

Yesterday morning I kept getting overwhelmed with feelings of sadness and guilt. By afternoon, most of it was resolved. I know that I did as much as I could for her despite the occasional anger or resentment. I have a feeling that I've gone through about the same emotions as someone who was taking care of an elderly or severly ill person. I realize that the amount of care was nowhere the same, but it was still there.

I realize that Pepper as we knew her, in that last week was only minimally there. I'm glad that I was told by Dr. Staley that "it was time." Gradual decline is so hard to realize when you're used to high maintenance of care. I think I knew it deep inside while at the Vet's when a puppy rottweiler was sitting across from her and she did not seem to have her usual aggressive attitude or even register it was there. She did love that last "car ride." I'm glad she had that. But even then, she barely looked out the window and was curled up in the back seat, gazing at me as if we were coming home from being somewhere. She had that strong streak of survival that pushed her through cancer & other illnesses with her to the final end. I think that was all that was left of her personality in her frail body. She fought the sleep for just a moment and then relaxed into that final darkness. I think her spirit will be reborn into a Wolfhound. God knows, she always hated being a small Yorkshire Terrier. Go for something big in the next life. She certainly deserves it.

I know that being away makes it hard for you to realize that she won't be here when you get back. I went through the same thing when Mom put Lucy down only 2 months before we visited. I think having a small ceremony for her ashes might help us both. Diane thinks it will be full circle for Pepper --taking her back where we all found each other.
Before I bawl my eyes out some more, I'll let you go. I don't feel like writing papers for school, but that's what I have to do in the next several days.
I love you very much,
sara

Mari,

so glad you can see your apples, I ve got tears again, I ve got Bashy, Willow and her four pups, and Russell the cat, all in the same part of garden and we ve only been here 8 years, my eldest rottie is only 6 and she is just starting to lighten round the muzzle, I'm going to get another vodka and coke now,

Hugs and sympathies to everyone

Lorraine