Memorials

I lost my co-pilot last weekend,

Sadie, my Golden Retriever of 14.5 years.  I got her as a gift for my birthday, a complete surprise, when she was already a big pup at 8 months old with a big pink ribbon around her neck.  I thought, “Oh wow, that’s a big responsibility.”  But our love for each other began from that point and never wavered.

Many of you have met her in the office or out on deliveries.  We have quite a few customers because of her.   She was a top salesman hanging her paw out the window observing.  She was stoic and smart, quiet, and cunning; a great communicator.  She was raised to be a companion dog, but that didn’t work out, possibly because she was too stubborn.  She was also called a “fence runner,” and that’s why she was available through the organization.  She could easily drive the dogs on the other side of the fence, nuts.  She loved it!

Well, she was a special dog to me, always by my side, always willing to say hi or give a hug or a paw.  She helped me rescue quite a few stray dogs on the route for rescue that wouldn’t have come up to me otherwise.  When she was amongst other dogs, she’d quietly be in charge. She’d  push to the front of the food line, she’d let a puppy know  “Ok, that’s enough rough housing”  and strong paw them down to behave with one forceful bark.  She didn’t chase the ball, didn’t like dog parks and didn’t like all dog treats; she’d turn her head and blow thru her nose, it was the funniest thing.  She was her own dog.

I appreciate you all loving Sadie over the years and asking about her or stopping to visit with her.

On Saturday, July 13th she left us quietly, still beautiful, still sweet, we miss her so much.  Bye Sadie and Thank you.
Sean

DJ has graced our website with his darling picture for a long time.

He started as a customer with us in 2000 so we got to share his life with his family. DJ has joined our other dogs who have passed on and are now running freely and enjoying cool, soft, grassy fields. We know how hard it is on his family and it makes
us sad, too. But, we know they will eventually be able to remember him and smile and know what a good life he had. Good-bye DJ.

Thank you for all the great food and treats you helped provide for my Little Girl.

She passed away July 26 and is now on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge. She was a very special Deaf dog that knew her commands in American Sign Language. Because I interpreted for the Deaf, I sought her out specifically because I wanted a deaf dog; one that no one else would want and when I first saw her picture on the internet at Border Collie Rescue, I knew she’d be my Little Girl. That’s the name she came with and it seemed appropriate considering her situation. She was rescued from the street after being hit by a car and mistreated by people. She was very weary of most people, but once she got to know someone, she was their friend for life. She was stunning to look at and provided endless comedy as an “actress.” I miss her so very much and so do our other puppies. She taught me many things about myself and what it takes to be patient, compassionate and strong. I will love her always and thank the stars for letting her be a guide in my life.

Thanks again for everything.
Kat White

This was my little Beau.

He went to Heaven today. We got him 14 years ago from the newspaper. A front page story in the Daily Pilot introduced this little dog that had been badly injured in a traffic accident. A kind Animal Control officer who couldn’t resist his appealing eyes and wagging tail even when injured, called a friend at the Huntington Beach Shelter on Newland. That shelter manager called Dr. Katcherian of Back Bay Veterinary Hospital. He volunteered to graciously repair him ( removed a crushed hip and inserted a steel plate in his front leg to repair a compound fracture).

We had recently lost our big Golden, Murphy to Cancer and we knew we could take care of a crippled little dog just fine. We filled out an application along with others and we were chosen to adopt him.

We went to meet him and ended up taking him home from the veterinary hospital that day. We brought him home to Jack and Annie. He fit in just fine. He was supposed to be quiet and careful neither of which he did. He exercised on our grass, strengthened his legs and soon took his place in the pack. We adopted other dogs along the way, Wilmie, Farley, and Louie. He of course, got along just fine with Sadie (Sean’s dog), the Grande Dame. He was the smallest and frailest but he didn’t know that. He ran as fast as the others, chased lots of birds and muscled his way to the head of pack.

The thing I will miss most is his devotion. He followed me from room to room. He was wherever I was. He slept on a special cushioned bench at the end of our bed. He wimpered when I left home and waited for me by the front door. He was always glad to see me.

Only Louie remains in our home today. He is uncertain as to where he is supposed to be as he usually always had a buddy to snuggle with. He is going from room to room staying with either Pete or I. I think he wants to keep us company as much as he misses his brother.

We’ll miss Boo Boo.

“We named her after Wilma Rudolph, gold medal track star. She was a wild girl. A trainer we had in the beginning said, she was likely on her own for a long time.”

We lost Wilmie today.

She was probably a 13-14 year old, Dobie mix. She was a beautiful black girl, right up to the end. Her fur was still so shiny and bright it would hurt your eyes if I looked at her in the sun. She loved to lay in the sun.

She was brought to us one day, by Sean. We had just started Whiskers and Paws and he was delivering to Santa Ana and it was raining. He saw some dogs running loose and watched with a catch in his throat, as she was almost hit by a UPS truck. She had a beautiful, athlete’s body and there was no way to catch her. She could run, dodge and weave. Boy, did she run fast. As he was getting his order together, standing by the open door of the van, he felt something on his feet; it was Wilma, flipped onto her belly.

Sean called and said he had a very dirty, black lab-looking dog in his truck and could he bring her home? Pete said, “Sure take her home.” Sean said, “To your home?” We ended up with Wilma. We named her after Wilma Rudolph, gold medal track star. She was a wild girl. A trainer we had in the beginning said, she was likely on her own for a long time. She would bolt any time the gate or garage was open. She would run free. We somehow always caught her and then if she ever got out, she just ran around our cul-de-sac. One day she got out and we found her right by the gate, trying to get back in.

We didn’t have to worry about her running away anymore.

She chased the arrogant squirrel in the backyard, caught birds, “levitated” onto our big boulders to look closely for the squirrel hoping he might make a mistake. She was always very cooperative with any new dogs we adopted along the way. She really was never sick or a bother. Then a about a month ago, we noticed swollen glands and it was determined she had Lymphoma. We elected not to put her through Chemo which might have delayed her passing. She never wanted to be messed with. She didn’t like her toenails to be clipped. She was not able to be bathed at the groomer. We accommodated her uniqueness and removed any irritants from her path. She was always put into a room when the gardener came because she truly couldn’t abide the loud noises of his machines. She really didn’t like bike riders or motorcycles. If she went to the office with Pete, he would always keep her locked up until the visitor was welcomed into the office. Then, she knew it was someone that should be allowed entrance.

On her last day, she was in pain and had begun to limp. However, she wanted to go for a walk around our little cul-de-sac. She wanted to get in the van. As we waited for our turn to visit the doctor, we sat with her in the van, calmly. When it was time to go in we could not get her out of the van. She was determined to remain where she was. I eventually grabbed her leash and she leaped out and we walked to the door of the hospital. As she approached the door she pulled back, out of her collar and ran one last time. The vet tech caught her, not far away and carried her in, calmly. She had her intravenous tube inserted and walked on her own, back to the room where we were waiting. She did it her way. Bye, Wilmie we will miss you.

Annie

We just had to make that terrible decision to put down our beautiful, 12 year old Golden. It is still a fresh wound and so very painful. Everything seems to reference back to a memory of her. She’s no longer lying in the hall. She’s no longer just outside the bedroom door with the slider open so she feels part of the house.

She was a puppy we chose from a breeder. It wasn’t that long ago, but at the time, Specific Breed Rescues were not as advertised as they are today. We had lost our first Golden, Murphy and just couldn’t stand being without a dog that could communicate so well. We still had Jack who was Murphy’s partner and we wanted to get a Female to be with Jack. We chose Annie, not because she was the Female most social or outgoing but because she seemed the one most shy and sweet.

She was a cutie. She went from golden fuzz to a beautiful light, golden caramel color. She was a big girl. She was 75-80 lbs and in great shape. She ate reduced fat food most of her life. We had just started Whiskers and Paws and she was a poster girl. Even though she had a champion pedigree and health clearances, she had to have elbow surgery as a puppy and probably always had some joint pain. She was noise shy and very scared during thunderstorms or when fireworks could be heard. She loved playing with her tennis balls. A new tennis ball was the only thing she would not share. You see she welcomed others into the family. We subsequently adopted Beau, Wilma, Farley and finally Lou. Sean’s dog Sadie, another Golden stayed with us a lot, too. Whenever Sean came over she would herd him into the backyard to play ball as he had the best throw. She didn’t mind sharing her home, her food, her family or even her old tennis balls.

But, just recently we noticed she wasn’t feeling so well. We consulted with two different veterinarians including her original vet who had relocated to West VA. Nothing could explain quite what her health problems meant. I believe she probably had some kind of Cancer that just was not yet defined. When she stopped eating, we knew her time was near. It’s funny, you would think she would look miserable. She didn’t. She still wagged her tail. She still was beautiful, majestic, sorry about making a mess and quietly, gently ready to go. We kissed her, massaged her paws, and she laid her head in our hands. She went out just the way we found her, sweet, gentle and loving. We miss her terribly.

Pete, Sean and Karen Bennett, Whiskers & Paws Catering

“She loved playing with her tennis balls. A new tennis ball was the only thing she would not share.”

My beloved Emilie passed away this morning after a strong and amazing fight against osteosarcoma.

When originally diagnosed, we thought we had maybe a few months, if that. Emilie survived to almost 10 months post diagnosis and had a wonderful life and was strong and full of life up until this past week and a half. She kept to her end of the bargain by staying strong until her health failed rapidly and swiftly.

A week and a half ago she was running around the living room pouncing on Garrison as we prepared for our trip to Vermont for the National Bouvier Specialty. I’m just sorry she wasn’t strong enough to make the tirp with us and enjoy the scenery and be around so many Bouviers – something she has loved ever since we became active members of the SoCal Bouvier club.

Dr. Fuchino asked for me to bring Garrison in to sniff her and allow him the opportunity to recognize that she was no longer with us. After a few sniffs, Garrison wanted to leave the room and go back to the car. It is a sad and melancholy day, but ultimately one of rejoicing and celebrating a life well lived and well loved for 11 years.

Her sweet face, warm tongue, joy of chasing shadows, squirrels, cats, and horses and her TV watching antics will be greatly missed.

She is now on the most incredible journey filled with life and love and endless music of the spheres and will live forever in our hearts.

Pilar Kuhn