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Dogs are not our whole life,
But they make our lives whole
~Roger Caras~










"But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his master's own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone."
Lord Byron





August 1984-19 June 1999

This beautiful picture-plate of Misty was a special Christsmas gift  from a very dear friend of mine who is no longer with us.
Thank you Kay for this gift, which means even more to me now, and also for the beautiful friendship you and I shared for so many years.
I miss you and love you!


May I Go? 

May I go now? 
Do you think the time is right? 
May I say good-bye to pain filled days and endless lonely nights?
I've lived my life and done my best, an example tried to be. 
So can I take that step beyond and set my spirit free? 
I didn't want to go at first, I fought with all my might.
But something seems to draw me now to a warm and loving light. 
I want to go. I really do. 
It's difficult to stay. 
But I will try as best I can to live just one more day.
To give you time to care for me and share your love and fears. 
I know you're sad and afraid, because I see your tears. 
I'll not be far, I promise that, 
and hope you'll always know that my spirit will be close to you
wherever you may go. 
Thank you so for loving me. You know I love you, too. 
That's why it's hard to say good-bye and end this life with you. 
So hold me now just one more time 
and let me hear you say, because you care so much for me, 
you'll let me go today. 



 thanks to my dear friend Karryn 
for sharing this beautiful story with me.




I, Brandon Holmes, because the burden of my years and infirmities is heavy upon me, and I realize the end of my life is near, do hereby bury my last will and testament in the mind of my Master. He will not know it is there until after I am dead. Then, remembering me in his loneliness, he will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask him to inscribe it as a memorial to me. 
I have little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are wiser than men. They do not set great store upon things. They do not waste their days hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about how to keep the objects they have, and to obtain objects they have not. There is nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my loyalty. These I leave to all those who have loved me, especially to my Master and Mistress, who I know will mourn me the most. 
I ask my Master and my Mistress to remember me always, but not to grieve for me too long. In my life, I have tried to be a comfort to them in time of sorrow, and a reason for added joy in their happiness. It is painful for me to think that even in death I should cause them pain. Let them remember that while no dog has ever had a happier life (and this I owe to their love and care for me), now that I have grown blind and deaf and lame, and even my sense of smell fails me so that a rabbit could be right under my nose and I might not know, my pride has sunk to a sick, bewildered humiliation. 
I feel life is taunting me with having overlingered my welcome. It is time I said good-bye, before I become too sick a burden on myself and on those who love me. 
It will be a sorrow to leave them, but not a sorrow to die. Dogs do not fear death as men do. We accept it as part of life, not as something alien and terrible which destroys life. What may come after death, who knows? 
I would like to believe that there is a Paradise. Where one is always young and full-bladdered. Where all the day one dillies and dallies. Where each blissful hour is mealtime. Where in the long evenings there are a million fireplaces with logs forever burning, and one curls oneself up and blinks into the flames and nods and dreams, remembering the old brave days on earth and the love of one's Master and Mistress. 
I am afraid that this is too much for even such a dog as I am to expect. 
But peace, at least, is certain. Peace and a long rest for my weary old heart and head and limbs, and eternal sleep in the earth I have loved so well. 
Perhaps, after all, this is best. 
One last request, I earnestly make. I have heard my Mistress say, "When Brandon dies we must never have another dog. I love him so much I could never love another one". Now I would ask her, for love of me, to have another. It would be a poor tribute to my memory never to have a dog again.What I would like to feel is that, having once had me in the family, she cannot live without a dog! 
I have never had a narrow, jealous spirit. I have always held that most dogs are good. My successor can hardly be as well loved or as well mannered or as distinguished and handsome as I was in my prime. My Master and Mistress must not ask the impossible. But he will do his best, I am sure, and even his inevitable defects will help by comparison to keep my memory green. 
To him I bequeath my collar and leash and my overcoat and raincoat He can never wear them with the distinction I did, all eyes fixed on me in admiration; but again I am sure he will do his utmost not to appear a mere gauche provincial dog. 
I hereby wish him the happiness I know will be his in my old home.
One last word of farewell, dear Master and Mistress. Whenever you visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my long, happy life with you: "Here lies one who loved us and whom we loved". No matter how deep my sleep I shall hear you and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail
I will always love you as only a dog can." 

by Eugene O'Neill 

The original version of this tribute was written by Eugene O'Neill for his wife Carlotta, a few days before their Dalmatian passed away from old age in December, 1940. Please give credit to the author if you should pass this moving piece onto others in the future.







You have become the wind,
that plays in my hair.
You have become the water,
that washes away my pain.
You have become the sun,
that takes away my tears,
you have become the shadow,
who gives me the power
to fight with all my fears.
Now, you are in heaven,
sleeping your endless sleep,
living your prettiest dreams
on a cloud, so soft and so deep ...

By Sanja Temnik




Special Memorials To Misty





To Those I Love
And Those Who Love Me



When I am gone, release me, let me go.
I have so many things to see and do.
You mustn't tie yourself to me in tears.
Be happy that we had so many years.
I gave you my love, you can only guess,
How much you gave to me in happiness.
I thank you for the love each of you has shown.
But now it's time I traveled on alone.
So grieve a while for me, if grieve you must
Then let your grief be comforted by trust.
It's only for a while that we must part
So keep the memories within your heart.
I won't be far away, for life goes on.
So if you listen with your heart, you'll hear
All of my love around soft and clear.
And when you must come this way alone,
I'll greet you with a smile, and say,
"Welcome Home"

Author Unknown





Room In Your Heart


Sorrow fills a barren space
you close your eyes and see my face
and think of times I made you laugh
the love we shared, the bond we had,
the special way I needed you -
the friendship shared by just we two.
The day's too quiet, the world seems older,
the wind blows now a little colder.
You gaze into the empty air
and look for me, but I'm not there -
I'm in heaven and I watch you,
and I see the world around you too.
I see little souls wearing fur,
souls who bark and souls who purr
born unwanted and unloved -
I see all this and more above -
I watch them suffer, I see them cry,
I see them lost, I watch them die.
I see unwanted thousands born -
and when they die, nobody mourns.
These little souls wearing fur
(Some who bark and some who purr)
are castaways who - unlike me -
will never know love or security.
A few short months they starve and roam,
Or caged in shelters - nobody takes home.
They're special too (furballs of pleasure),
filled with love and each one, a treasure.
My pain and suffering came to an end,
so don't cry for me, my person, my friend.
But think of the living - those souls with fur
(some who bark and some who purr) -
And though our bond can't be broken apart,
make room for another in your home and your heart.
- Caro Schubert-James



This Loving Memory Tribute was  made especially for Misty on Dec 3, 2000 By Diabella 
Thank you Diabella  for this precious gift
Please visit her site at
Diabella Loves Cats









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This page was created September 27, 2000