P.O. Box 1964
Evanston, Illinois 60204
Contents Copyright © C.A.R.E.
stories of your pet that you'd like to submit to our site, please
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(C.A.R.E. Name: Lyla)
deep sadness we want you to know that our beloved dog Lyla passed
peacefully at sunset, on Saturday, January 19, 2013. We are full of
grief over the loss of Lyla, and grateful we had as much time as we did
to enjoy her beauty, wonderful spirit and personality.
Lyla was diagnosed with cancer in her abdomen a week before, which
progressed very rapidly and was not treatable. However, the cancer did
not stop Lyla from doing things she loved to do: be very affectionate
and loving, going for short walks, trying to hunt every creature that
moved around her, greeting whomever came to the door with her
protective "attack mode", and getting outraged at other dogs who dared
to walk the streets of our neighborhood.
is how Lyla entered our life: on Friday, October 18, 2002, Lyla, a 6
months old beautiful mutt, was brought in to the Evanston animal
shelter by a family from Skokie, and taken in by James Cha. The
next day Zahava arrived to the shelter for her voluneer shift, saw Lyla
who was very meek and timid, and immediately fell in love with her.
Marc went to meet Lyla that same week, was also smitten with her, and
after the spaying surgery and other necessary medical treatment, we
brought her home to live with us.
us on a journey for 11 years that we cherished. Anyone that has
experienced the first 30 seconds of greeting her at our house knows why
we referred to her lovingly as Jaclyn and Heidi; after her boisterous
greeting she would promptly be in or near your lap, expect you to pet
her and you had become one of her inner circle of friends forever.
Happily we have many fond memories and poignant stories to remember her
For all of you who knew Lyla, thank you for your love and affection
during her life, and thank you all for your help, support, advice, kind
words, thoughts and prayers in her final week.
Marc and Zahava
(C.A.R.E. Name: Cleo's Kitten)
back in the summer of 1993 I adopted a tabby kitten from CARE. I went
back a few weeks later, looking for a playmate and companion for the
newly renamed Granny. I was introduced to a playful and loud little
Siamese kitten known simply as "Cleo's Kitten." He was a tiny guy who
had the softest fur and beautiful milky blue eyes. He wasted no time
rubbing his body against my legs, jumping into my lap, and looking at
me as though saying "what are you waiting for?" He chose me, and that
was the day he was named Furball and became part of our family.
Furball and Granny became best of friends and shared sixteen wonderful
years together until Granny passed on. Furball missed her, but he
continued to provide plenty of love and companionship to me. We had our
daily routines, but the one that always made me smile was how he always
walked in and sat at my feet when I got out of the shower to dry off. I
think he felt it was his duty to watch over and protect me while I was
at my most vulnerable! He'd also lay on my chest when I went to sleep
every night and greet me with a headbutt when I woke up in the morning.
Yesterday I had to say goodbye to Furball. Old age had taken its toll
and he was declining quickly. Saying farewell my constant companion of
almost twenty years was difficult but the thought of him joyfully
playing again with his old pal Granny does bring a smile to my face. I
want to thank CARE for bringing both of these wonderful cats into my
life. Furball, you were my little buddy and I'll never forget you.
Thanks for the years of love and joy that you gave to me. That's a
priceless gift that I can never repay.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Tybalt)
I wanted to drop a line to let you know that Tybalt (Tiger at C.A.R.E)
passed away on April 30, 2011 after a long fight with a variety of
ailments. When I adopted him in 1998, the counselors put him at about 2
years old, so he was likely between 14 and 15. What a great, great,
great dog and a tremendous ambassador for his breed. He was known as
"The Mayor of Andersonville", since he loved being petted so much by
everyone who crossed his path on our walks into town. He's had a
variety of feline roommates, and acquired a second owner when I married
my wife in 2004. We always loved coming back to C.A.R.E. for the dog
washes to say hello. He had a great old soul, and will be missed.
Thank you again for introducing me to a great dog.
Fred and Sarah
(C.A.R.E. Name: Louie)
Date of birth unknown- 22 April 2011 (Earth Day)
depth of my sorrow upon his passing is testimony to the great love he
brought to my life. I married again in October, and Louie, one
walk at a time, helped me decide that Jamie was the man for me.
Louie trusted Jamie, an important point in Jamie’s favor. As he
had with me, Louie converted Jamie into a canine lover. Jamie’s
caring ways with Louie revealed a side of him that was another
wonderful surprise. Some of my sweetest memories are of the
scenes between Jamie and Louie: I often found Jamie curled on Louie’s
bed, whispering into his ear. Louie had Jamie wrapped around his
finger/paw (I could tell from Louie’s special barks to Jamie). If
any dog in the universe deserved to be spoiled, it was Louie, sweet,
transformed me in so many beautiful ways. I adopted Louie in
August 2000 (his age was estimated to be between 2 and 4) – I was not
that keen on getting a dog, it was my ex-husband’s idea for my
birthday. I still recall that many puppies were brought in for me to
meet during the adoption hours, and they were adorable, but the
chemistry just wasn’t there. Then Louie came bounding in and
rolled onto his back in front of me – love at first sight. He was
so strong and so filled with energy, yet there was a gentle spirit in
his beautiful, intelligent eyes. The staff was worried that it
would be difficult to place him – his breed (American Staffordshire
Terrier mix) made some nervous, his abusive past made others nervous,
but strangely (given that I had spent most of my childhood afraid of
dogs, because of an early bite from a beagle), Louie did not make me
nervous at all. Louie never, ever made me afraid: quite the
contrary, for over a decade he offered me protection and made me feel
safe in the world. We roamed in the forest, and walked in the
park, he even overcame his fear of the water and loved to plop (he
could not really swim) into the dirty Chicago River – much to the
delight of the children who gathered there to fish. Children
loved Louie and he loved them – when I lived in Skokie, I had to be
careful when I took him for walks – I could not take him out if I was
in a hurry, because, like a swarm of paparazzi, the children would come
running , shouting his name, “Louie, Louie” – I don’t think there
is a dog that was brushed as much as Louie was (his biggest fans were
two girls, Meg and J, who loved to brush him). Louie introduced
me to most of the people in the neighborhood – and everyone who knew
Louie, loved him. Louie connected me to so much beauty in the
world – to the virtues of patience, trust, loyalty, compassion,
forgiveness, and unconditional love.
When I first brought Louie
home, he still had some traces of the traumas he had suffered.
When I went to plug in anything, he would run to the corner and
quiver. Within weeks, the traces of trauma were gone, sometimes I
even found him asleep on my computer cords. He was able to trust
again, even after his awful treatment at the hands of some nasty thugs,
who wanted him to fight. Louie would not fight, so he had been
used as a bait dog, and he had the scars to prove that much harm had
come his way. His peaceful nature explains his shelter name –
everyone at C.A.R.E. soon discovered that Louie was a lover, not a
fighter. Louie was so smart, with an impressive vocabulary (he
understood many words, and I, in turn, understood his different barks –
the stranger at the door bark, the water bark, the let’s go for a walk
bark, etc.). He kept me company while I wrote, and when we walked
I often tried out ideas with him. He always agreed with me on
philosophical matters. We disagreed sometimes on how long the
walk should be esp. in the cold winter. Whenever I tried to
shorten a walk, I was given a stern, stubborn look, a look that always
made me give in to Louie’s will. The only thing Louie liked more
than long walks (unless it was raining: he would not walk in the rain,
yet another sign of his intelligence) was riding in the car. And
inevitably, I found people smiling at him, blowing him kisses, just
filled with joy upon seeing his sweet face hanging out the
window. Up until the end, whenever I walked with Louie, I
received compliments on his beauty. Louie was a beautiful, noble
being – the best friend I could have hoped for. In his youth he
sprinted like Carl Lewis, and in the autumn of his life, his slow gait
remained graceful and dignified. As I watched his slow decline, I
reminded him that he could go whenever he needed to go: he had already
given me more than anyone had a right to expect. Louie was a
blessing, a gift – one of those wonderful surprises that life offers
every now and again. I treasured the time I had with him, and for
his presence in my life I shall be ever grateful.
miss you our sweet pea, and we thank you for being the wonderful being
you were. The house feels empty without you. We also thank
everyone at C.A.R.E. (esp. Noe) for rescuing you and for helping us
find you, our faithful, generous companion. You were deeply loved
and you will be in our hearts forever.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Buster)
just wanted to update you guys that Shiloh Ray passed away on December
11, 2010. He was almost 18 years old with a heart anybody wishes
they could have. I don't believe that I mentioned in the original
update that in 2006 he was diagnosed with a severe pneumonia and heart
failure. Shiloh over came the pneumonia but we were told he would
probably not make it more then six months due to his heart. It
was very hard news considering his brother had just passed away that
same year from prostate cancer. Now when I say that anyone wishes they
could have his heart is because he did not let "heart failure" cut his
life short because he knew he had to look out for me and his baby
sister. Shiloh knew his work was not done in 2006 so he trotted
on like the leader he has always been.
On December 10,
2010 we all went to bed as usual but in the morning it appears Shiloh
had a severe stroke that left him paralyzed. He could not move
anything more then his eyes and was not aware of his
surroundings. My mom & I quickly rushed him to the ER where I
stayed with him for 10 hours in intensive care hoping for a
miracle. The miracle did not happen this time but I believe it is
what Shiloh Ray wanted, a weekend where i could grieve, a night &
morning where I was around, a day that his vet was open. I try to
laugh when I think that Shiloh was around for every boyfriend approval
I have needed from him, my point is that I am currently dating a great
guy that I only really knew for one week prior to Shiloh passing. This
guy came and sat with me at the hospital and Shiloh was able to give
his approval with the little strength he had left, he would not have
been content otherwise. I will continue to wonder if Shiloh Ray
was more then a dog but my live angel that guided me until he knew I
would be okay.
Who ever knew that a severely beaten, frightened
dog that lost his eye could be the most loyal and trustworthy
companion. He lived an amazing life and I once again want to thank you
guys for rescuing Shiloh and providing him the extensive medical
treatment he needed. He is deeply missed especially when it comes to
meals that involve chicken. Attached is a picture of him and his sister
one week before he passed away.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Aurora)
In June of 1995, my husband and I adopted our shepherd mix,
Sappho, from CARE (her name there was Aurora). She had the hugest ears
we'd ever seen and a big, goofy smile that made us laugh every day. For
almost 16 years she brought joy to our lives and happiness to our
hearts. Sadly we said goodbye on Nov. 9, 2010, but her playful spirit
will live in our hearts forever. Thank you, CARE, for helping us find
our sweet girl, and thank you, Sappho, for being our friend.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Cinnamon)
I was looking for a female cat as a companion of my male cat,
Jimmy a 8 y/old calico. I looked for days through the internet without
success. One day, I entered C.A.R.E’s website and I saw Cinnamon,
a Maine Coon mix female and immediately fall in love with her cute
little face. I forwarded her picture to my husband and told him I found
her. That same day we went to C.A.R.E to see if Cinnamon was still
available and indeed she was.
The first thing we were told was that she only could see through one
eye which we didn't care. During the entire application/ interview she
was between my legs just looking for my attention. That was how I knew
she will be my princess. We adopted her in January of 2003, she was
around 4-5 y/old and we kept her name since it was perfect due to the
color of her coat.
Last Monday, after 7
wonderful years, we had to put her to sleep (heart failure). Sad day
for our family. Especially for me since she was my little girl. She was
the best cat and loved her peculiar meow-kind of sound (we are not sure
if she knew how to meow or she was mute). Here some pictures of
when we will go to the pet salon for a 'lion cut'. She was so happy
afterwards, it kept her cooler in the summer. We definitely miss her
(and Jimmy too)!
(C.A.R.E. Name: Caesar)
We adopted Jake Ryder Vande Hey on June 25, 2000.
Caesar, he was rescued as a puppy by C.A.R.E. along with his twin
brother, Julius. We couldn't adopt both and Jake immediately went
the sure bet to get a seat in our car - my husband, Mark. Mark,
outwardly professed no desire to have a dog, had been reluctantly
dragged into the adoption by three determined daughters and wife.
Jake was brought to us, he immediately went to Mark, knelt at his feet,
wagged his tail, and licked his hand. His and our fate were
that moment and he became the much needed male balance to a dominant
Every pet is extraordinary to his or her owners. Jake was no
exception. He was somewhat timid and never strayed far from home
despite his doberman/shepherd heritage. He posed a threat to no
unless being licked to death is a defined method of homicide. He
however, passionately drive the mailman away every day and wasn't a big
fan of FedEx or UPS either. It was Larry, our mailman, that
to us that Jake was just doing his job - keeping the house secure from
that ominous guy in blue - and every day he succeeded. Too bad
Jake wasn't as good at chasing away the countless teenagers who entered
his life through our daughters - and early on learned how to keep Jake
silent when entering or departing the house "after hours." My
made the observation that he probably bore witness to a lot of
His never-ending tail wagging, begging and unconditional love
affected all he encountered. Jake was with us for nine years -
time to make countless friends and turn professed dog-haters into
fans. As we journeyed through life - the crazy pre and teen years
empty nesting - Jake remained a constant in our lives. I can't
the number of times his fur wiped away tears as we all confessed our
concerns (or misdeeds) in the middle of the night as he kept us from
being alone with our fears. He took it all in a stride and
unrelenting, unconditional love to his immediate family and an extended
network of friends and strangers. For me, he provided a welcome
net as I suddenly had a rather privileged life buffeted by my job loss,
family illness and empty nesting. At my side always, we took
walks in all kinds of weather as he healed me from sadness that was
threatening to consume optimism.
We were stunned to suddenly learn that Jake was suffering from
cancer as he had taken such good care of us - we never imagined him
needing us. Jake left us on October 23, 2009 after telling us it
time. The emptiness that we feel is tempered somewhat by the
that he left without suffering and from our arms at home. His
mistresses were at college and we continue to comfort each other as
best we can from a distance. Even the mailman misses him - having
heard his familiar growling for a couple of days, he rang the doorbell
to pass along his condolences.
I originally adopted Jake because I wanted to rescue a dog. I now
realize he rescued me by teaching me just how true-blue, wonderful and
good an animal can be. Such kindness is infectious -
ownership should be mandatory for elected officials and heads of state.
He was a good boy. And he is missed.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Half Blaze)
I described Jarl has blazing
through my life like a bolt of lightning...fast, furious, bright.
Jarl had quite the life packed into a small amount of time. He
started out a refugee from an animal hoarder, spent several months in
the shelter before a short stint on a trial adoption before coming to
my home. I was looking for a companion to another young cat of
mine, Fafnir. On paper, Jarl seemed to fit the bill. And he
and Fafnir did become great buddies; sumo wrestling, belly bumping,
chasing and grooming. My other guys would have preferred Jarl and
Fafnir resided in someone else's home, but it did all work out.
I have never seen a cat that exuded more joy than Jarl. In
retrospect, it seemed that he knew on some level that he was not going
to be on this earth long and he had a living to pack in quickly.
He missed nothing. He ran (sometimes for hours at a time),
gleefully from one end of our home to the other, up and down the cat
tree. He'd fling himself onto me, dramatically rolling around
until I cuddled him like a baby. Mornings with Jarl were
crazy. If I thought he was energetic the rest of the day, it was
nothing compared to that morning mania. Nothing was safe.
There were things to be knocked onto the floor, furniture to jump on, a
mommy to groom, 3 sleepy cats to chase, toys to play with, food to eat
and it was best to do it all RIGHT NOW!!!! And during the 6
months I was honored to share with him, there was hardly a day that
didn't include some really funny thing this little spirit had
Sadly, a couple months
before what would have been his second birthday, Jarl was diagnosed
with renal lymphoma. There was really nothing much to be done,
of lymphoma is generally not responsive to chemo, so it was all about
making his last days as comfortable as possible. He still
maintained his love of life right up until the end. The interest
in play and loving never went away, though the energy to partake was no
I am grateful to have known
and loved this little guy. I'd do it all again, even knowing the
outcome. I miss you Jarl!
The picture is of Jarl and
Fafnir, the tuxedo terrors!
May of 1997 I adopted a dog there (you were calling her "Nina" but
she became Zelda). She and I had 12 wonderful years together and she
passed away this week. This is the memorial I wrote to friends and
wanted to share it with y'all because you made such a good match so
many years ago.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Nina)
Dear friends and family -
we took Zelda to be put to sleep. She'd been on a slow decline for the
past few months, and then a quick decline in the past few weeks (ever
since her 13th birthday, actually). She was basically paralyzed in her
back half, unable to even stand to eat, drink, or pee and probably in a
lot of pain in her spine despite medications. Eric and I were with her
at the end and the kids got to say goodbye this morning before we left.
Yesterday, knowing this was coming, I wrote a little memorial thing.
Zelda and I have lived in 4 states and together traveled through
dozens. We've camped at the beach and in the mountains, swum in 2
oceans, many lakes (1 Great, 1 Canyon) and the Gulf of Mexico together
countless times. We've hiked miles of trail (hours of railroad
track on Bloomington's west side) and walked together in 3 AIDSWalks
(Chicago and Atlanta). She's been my most faithful companion through
all good times (watching her run with a big stick is the purest
expression of joy ever) and bad (when I cry, she climbs into my lap to
comfort me). She's been my bodyguard. I could go anywhere in the world
with her and feel safe. All the years I lived alone, nights here with
the kids when Eric is out of town - she's our protector. Those single
years alone together in Bloomington, living in that little house on
North Adams were truly our heyday. Like her namesake, she was a real
party girl - we played hard and lived it up! She was then there when
Eric and I fell in love, accepted him when we moved in together and
acquiesced when we finally kicked her out of the bed when we got
married. There have been times when I think she even loved him more
than me; she waits by the door for the 2 hours before he gets home from
work. The smell of her fur was the only smell I liked throughout both
my pregnancies. I wanted her with me through labor (although that,
alas, was not to be). She's put up with being somewhat displaced by
babies and taken it (mostly) in stride (she did give us this look when
we brought home #2 like "Again? You're putting us through this
again?!") She's never nipped either child even once, although they both
have deserved it. She's watched both our kids learn to walk,
accidentally knocked them down a hundred times, and, in these frail
past few weeks, been knocked down by them. Despite all the tail pulling
and eye poking, she loves these children, and Lord knows they love her.
"Ze-daaa" was one of Jo's first words, and although I'm sure Jack
won't remember her much at all, we have lots of pictures of them
together. These last 4 years in California have been good for her.
She's lain in the sun, had year-round, all day open-door access to the
back yard, relatively few health problems, and I've been at home with
her the whole time. They've been good Golden Years. I've poured all the
love I have into this dog, and she's returned it tenfold. I really
can't imagine life (or my home) without her.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Winnie)
June of 1993 I stopped by the Evanston Animal Shelter to adopt a cat.
My girlfriend had one that was very friendly, and since I just moved
into a new apartment I felt that I could use the company of a
four-legged companion. Polly met me and spoke about the various cats
available for adoption. She introduced me to a tiny tabby kitten named
Winnie. Polly explained that she was a stray that was very shy and
mostly stayed away from humans. When I went into the meeting room
Winnie wandered over to me, sniffed my pant leg, then jumped into my
lap and promptly fell asleep. Well, how could I resist? The search was
over and I adopted Winnie that afternoon.
(her new name) adjusted to life with me in no time at all. She was very
affectionate to me and wandered around the apartment like she owned the
place However, whenever another person came over she always turned
timid and usually hid behind my bed. But when we were alone she would
always find me and rub against my leg or climb into my lap for a nap.
Her purring was very comforting to listen to while watching television
or reading a book. She always greeted me when I came home from work. In
fact, the greetings were so joyous that I suspected she was getting
bored while all alone during the day So a couple of months later I
returned to the Evanston Animal Shelter to get a companion for her.
Furball, a friendly little Siamese kitten, came home and joined the
endured one painful episode when she broke a rear leg. I came home one
day to find my bookcase overturned and Granny sitting awkwardly nearby.
I suspect that she jumped off at an awkward angle and toppled the
bookcase on top of her, but I'll never know for sure. Anyway, I took
her to the veterinarian and x-rays revealed a broken right hind leg.
The vet thought it might heal if held in a certain position for a
month, so she taped Granny's leg against her body and wrapped the whole
thing up. Granny limped around on three legs for weeks, but
unfortunately the break didn't heal properly. The vet ended up
femoral head ostectomy, a surgical
procedure where the head of the femur is removed. Cats have such strong
muscles that they can compensate for the missing joint. Granny
recovered and walked and ran normally - people couldn't tell that she
was missing a hip joint.
and Furball followed me from Illinois to Massachusetts and back, and
for the past fifteen years they've been the best of friends. They
always curled up to nap together during the day, and at night they
always slept on either side of my legs. And like cats all over the
world, they would both go nuts and have their midnight run around the
had to put Granny asleep last week. She had lost weight, was no longer
able to get around without frequent rest breaks, and although her eyes
still showed affection for Furball and me, she was clearly struggling
to keep up. When she started struggling to breathe I knew the time had
come. I took her to the vet and found out that the combination of her
old age and a severe respiratory problem were probably not treatable.
Granny took a turn for the worse during the exam, gasping and stumbling
on the exam table. Asking the vet to put her to sleep was one of the
hardest things I've ever done. I said goodbye to Granny and the vet
quickly put an end to her suffering.
parents and their children, I can't choose a favorite between Granny
and Furball. However, Granny was my first pet and for that reason will
always have a special place in my heart. She brought me close to 16
years of undying love and affection, and for that I will be forever
grateful to CARE for putting us together. I made a donation of cleaning
supplies in her memory, and I'm sure I'll make more in the future.
you, CARE, for putting a wonderful cat into my life. And thank you,
Granny, for making me a better person. Furball and I miss you.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Moshi Moshi)
A LOVE STORY
I first saw Max- Moshi
Moshi as he was called then - on
Thanksgiving Day 1996. He was brand
new to the shelter and appeared to be emotionally shut down. I was told
wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t play, was impossible to handle, and
had clearly been
abused. He lay in his litter box looking like a turtle trying to
disappear into his shell. I fell in love with him! Once I was able to
that he was scared, not mean, I adopted him in early 1997.
was a lot of work, but patience is my strength. He became a wonderful
affectionate companion and I believe he saw me as his rescuer and
the day he died, he was a work in progress. Something that might have
him one day, might not scare him the next day. That’s why I told
gets braver every day.”
became very sick in his last 18 months. This was a manageable disease
required daily medication, but Max always hated being restrained,
put in his carrier, I relied on the services of a visiting vet who gave
injection that kept him going for weeks at a time. We went on like this
over a year, but eventually, the injections failed and Max let me know
uncertain terms when he had had enough.
On February 4th 2009, my
Maxie-boy died peacefully at home, in my arms, swaddled in a bath
struggled a little bit when I first picked him up (some things never
but the first injection took the fight out of him. I held him and
for a few minutes until he was totally limp and deeply asleep. A second
injection stopped his heart. All the while, soft classical music played
the vet left, my friend Susan and I wrapped him in a new, fluffy white
bath towel and before we pinned it closed, I placed a red rose on top
We took him to Bramer Animal Hospital in
They were expecting us so they took him right away. I told them that
was a gift to the animal hospital - a perfect bed for a cat or small
dog - and they brought the
carrier back to me.
Max slept so much in
his last weeks that I still think he’s asleep somewhere in
the apartment. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,
but it comforts me,
and I know he truly is asleep and at rest.
husband and I adopted "Buddy," from C.A.R.E back in May, 2005. I had
been a volunteer at the shelter for nearly 5 years before moving into
the city. C.A.R.E was the only shelter I even considered when looking
for our new dog. We could not have chosen a more loyal, loving and
relaxed dog. (Or did he chose us!?) When we brought Franklin, as he was
now called, home he was nearly 15lbs under weight, with all ribs and
spine visible. It was obvious he had been abused and neglected.
someone could do that to this beautiful creature was beyond us. He was
quite healthy until June 2007, during which time he began having grand
mal seizures. He was placed on several different medications in
attempt to control his epilepsy. Gradually, over time he
resistance to these medications and would relapse into cluster
seizures. Over the past year, he spent many nights in the ER
with his people worried to death about him.
(C.A.R.E. Name: Buddy)
seizures were becoming more difficult to control over the past 4
months, clustering every 3-4 weeks. Thus, new medication adjustments
were made. Our sweet boy began to age right before our eyes, with
muzzle growing grayer by the day. But his gentle nature and
unconditional love never wavered. During the weekend of September
Franklin went into epileptic status, which is a grand mal seizure that
does not stop. He seized for nearly 2 hours, during which time he was
treated by 1 ER vet, then transferred to his Neurologist ER hospital.
They were finally able to stop the seizures, with sedation.
Unfortunately, Franklin developed pneumonia and passed on Wednesday,
10/1/08. The loss we feel is so deep and profoundly sad. Words simply
cannot express our love for this wonderful dog. Although, we called him
our own for only three short years, the time we had together was
here is to our sweet Franklin, who: went for long walks by
enjoyed many car rides to visit family and friends, loved lazy winter
days on the couch and summer sun on the patio, probably hated his red
sweater and boots when it snowed (but was he cute!), and endured many
kisses and hugs.
was the best thing that ever came into our lives. Thank you for giving
us the wonderful opportunity to call him ours.
a brief note to let you know that our dear Hoagie finally
succumbed and passed over the bridge on New Year's Eve.....he had a
certain "style" about him that way. Hoagie is the
beagle that we
adopted January 1995, and Dr. Roberts estimated his age at 6 years
then. His story is already posted on your website with a
And so we had him nearly 13 years, so that tough guy
was about 18 or 19 years old when he finally could make it no longer.
is worth every penny to treat the heartworm dogs, please do not give up
on them. Hoagie was more expensive than you
anticipated, needing 3
treatments. But he lived 13 more years!!
the end, he started getting sick last
September, when he was losing energy and falling down, and the vet
determined that he had a lung infection and advanced lung disease, as
well as showing finally a bit of an enlarged heart. The vet
having lung problems is worse than heart problems in a dog because the
heart is more treatable. Nevertheless, he gave him
for the infection, and put him on a pill that was a bronchial dialator
that he said he would need to be on for the rest of his life, however
long that would be. He responded well, and perked
right back up
again.....as perky a 19 year old dog as you can imagine him being at
that age. Apparently, he just hadn't been getting any oxygen
cells. But on New Year's Eve day he began to get very sick
again, acting strangely and throwing up. His regular vet was
for the holiday in 20 minutes, so back he went to the same emergency
(after hours) place next door to his vet where he was
last treated for
the spleenic tumor that nearly did him in back in September of 1999.
allowed them to treat him, they gave him some kind of IV's, but this
time he did not respond to the treatment and his heart was not holding
up. We never gave up on that dog, until he decided that he
no more and we thought he had suffered enough. We
let them put him
down on December 31st, 2007.
January 1995, asleep, December 31st 2007 -- just a month shy of 13
years with us.
else to say except that he was a good sweet dog.
This is the story of the best dog I ever
had, her name was
Valentine and she came from C.A.R.E.
My daughter and I adopted her in April
2003 just two months
after our last dog died at home. Val was my first shelter dog and she
already six years old. We took her home the same day we met her having
there before and looking at another dog that wasn’t right for
us. She was.
I was concerned when I first got her
because she didn’t
bark. After about a week she barked at the neighbors and I was so happy
She became good at letting me know when
the mailman came and
once she broke a window, but she was okay and the mailman was just a
She enjoyed chasing the squirrels in the
backyard and rarely
chased the birds I fed-only if the squirrels weren’t showing
up, out of boredom
We went for walks everyday, rain or shine
and snow. Over the
years we walked in the forest preserves and she even learned to go off
there and chase the deer on occasion.
She was my constant companion in our car.
everywhere with me. She made me smile when no one else could.
Last December I found what I thought was a
broken nail and
after going to the vet it was worse-a tumor on her toe and her toe was
in January this year. We went through two months of recovery at home
paw healed. Finally one day she started rolling in the grass again and
she was feeling better, more like her old silly self.
Her checkup in April was good. Everything
was fine and I was
hopeful we might get the one to two years possible after the surgery
anything would reoccur. In May I started to find lumps on her and I
would be lucky to have her through the summer.
We tried the piroxicam the vet recommended
but it didn’t do
any good. In late June a nasty lump developed on her gumline and I knew
bothered her. It bled when she ate sometimes. In July she had a
the vet said it would be soon. She
wasn’t eating well so my daughter and I took her the next day
after going to
two of her favorite forest preserves before the vet. I didn’t
want to take her
so soon but I didn’t want her to suffer through another
seizure my poor sweet
I went to her cremation so I could be with
her to the end.
She was my canine daughter, best friend, companion, sleeping partner,
part of my life for four years.
Her ashes rest in a Rottweiller figurine
urn along with her
collar, leash, some of her fur and toys in my room.
I thank everyone at C.A.R.E. who helped to
bring us together
with my funny Valentine.
I miss her so.
Sincerely Fran H.
The photo was taken on a good day in May
when the seventeen
year cicadas were out. She rolled
on them, played with them, messed them up
and even ate some in the process.
"Until one has loved an animal,
a part of one's soul remains unawakened."
Maggie was adopted from CARE at The Evanston Animal Shelter (Evanston,
IL) in December of 1994, the runt of a litter of 3.
From the day I brought her to my apartment on Paulina she was a
vibrant, curious, vocal and unconditionally loving animal.
she snuggled under the sheets, to how she gently but firmly let you
know that you were a guest in HER bed, to how she was relentless in
showing her need, love and care for me was simply heavenly.
Maggie moved with me, and with her feline counterpart, Tennessee (also
adopted from CARE), to Los Angeles in 1997. She survived a
day drive, a few small earthquakes (and one large one), two apartments
and a stalled acting career (mine, not hers), before we all moved back
to Chicago in 2001. An apartment in the city and a condo in
Park added to Maggie's bulging passport...
October of 2003 Maggie survived 5 days in critical care - effects from
hyperthyroidism and heart disease, which were complications tied to,
though not caused by, the heart murmur diagnosed early in her
life. While I stressed and paced and worried about what could
ailing my furry 'child', and wondering if, after only 9 years, this was
'the time,' Maggie herself showed that she wanted to live.
dealt with a feeding tube for a month after the critical care and I had
tears in my eyes the day I saw her finally eat on her own again in
(That pencil and eraser-looking gadget around her neck is the feeding
tube, subsequently removed a week after this picture was taken)
Once the myriad of twice-daily medications were
balanced, Maggie returned to kitten form - running around, torturing
Tennessee, making her presence known at every chance.
that she regained her bounce, there was little reason to suspect that
she would do anything but age gracefully...
Her sudden passing on a Tuesday night in February of 2005 came as a
I'm hoping that any suffering she may have experienced was tempered by
the shortness of time from her collapse to our putting a humane end to
everyone at the Evanston Animal Shelter,
am writing to thank you for all of the work that you do and for
uniting me with the most wonderful dog in the world, who has given me
the nine best years of my life. Lamar was my loyal friend, my
companion, my baby boy, and my protector. He gave me joy,
how to live, and took my fears away.
met Lamar at the Evanston Animal Shelter in 1998, and as I recall
he did not have a very good life up until then. I remember
that he had been picked up as a stray, and judging by his behavior, he
had clearly been abused- beaten with sticks and kicked with
was a very skittish dog who was afraid to be touched, responded
aggressively to the movement of strangers, and had never been walked on
a leash in his life. At one point I think some feared he was
not adoptable. But being a very intelligent and sensitive
was immediately loyal and trusting of me from the day I took him
I took the advice I was given and enrolled us in dog training classes
which taught him how to communicate with people and definitely gave him
the confidence and reassurance that he needed at that time.
picture was taken shortly after I adopted Lamar, the day I took him to
the lake for the very first time. He didn’t know
what he was looking
at when we went to the shore and he soon realized the joy of splashing,
wading, and biting the water. In the years since he has
lakes and rivers, made many friends both two legged and four, and
evolved into a dog that was widely known for his sweetness and good
temper. He had a smile that was unrelenting, even in his last
when he was so ill. Now that he is gone I am left with many
friends that I would not have met without him, and who share in so many
lovely memories of the joy he brought to all of us. He will
missed, but I will always be grateful for every minute we had together
and for all of you for making this happen in the first place.
Adopted from C.A.R.E. - 9/95
Asleep November 17, 2006
roommate, confidant, nemesis, teacher and prayer
partner.Who would have guessed
1995 that this relationship would have taken on such significance for
us.It was a chance encounter
at first sight. She
was nervous and
guarded yet hungry for love.The
between fear and trust characterized our life together but, in the end,
let go of fear and rested peacefully in my arms.
express my heartfelt thanks to those of you who
enriched our lives. Cindy
Mollie’s first advocate. You
from the dangers of the street and provided for the safe birth of her
foster-mom. You took her into
and introduced her to family life. You
gave her a warm place to live, food, water and the dignity she deserved. Barbara
Carlson,DVM, my coach. You helped me
self-injurious behavior and encouraged me to relax during her
“adolescent years.” You
said things would get better and they
caretaker, playmate and surrogate mom. You
gave Mollie the love and attention she needed whenever I was
gone. You are the only person
who could safely groom her. Ann
mentor. Despite your own
over the recent loss of a pet, you sat beside me and wiped away my
tears. You wept with me. You
listened to my Mollie stories
me celebrate her life. Granny,
Barb, and Matt, my mom, sister and nephew. You
comforted me before and after
passing and you honored her by respecting her quirky behaviors and
boundaries. Granny, you
offered her sage
advice when you told her not to be afraid. James
Jorgensen,DVM, wise teacher. You bought
us time so we could enjoy each
other a little longer. You
and compassionate as you led Mollie into her final sleep.
I shall not forget the look of
your face. Thank you for
of fur on her blanket. I will
that special gift.
human beings seek to be what we are not.If
we are tall, we want to be short.
If our eyes are blue, we wish they were
brown. If our hair is curly,
we try to
make it straight. If
we are smart, we
want to be smarter; rich, we want to be richer. We
struggle to accept ourselves just as we are. All
creation including our
furry, feathered, and
cold-blooded friends have something to teach us. A
tadpole is meant to become a frog. A
cat is a cat quite unlike a dog. Even
a snake knows when to shed its skin.
Each one is what it is, lives into its own
destiny and is guided by its natural instincts. One
of the lessons Mollie taught me happened the
night she caught three
mice in our home. Her swift
an opportune moment reminded me that observing is more than seeing,
is more than hearing and vigilance is not without its reward. Thank you, Mollie. I miss you!
(C.A.R.E. Name: Big Guy)
than trying to summarize Sisky's wonderful life in a story, I am
attaching the poem that I wrote for him after he passed away on October
23, 2006. Thank you C.A.R.E. and Polly for bringing us together so many
years ago. Words cannot explain how much he meant to me...
When we first met so long ago, who knew what we had found;
Now twelve years later on this day, the loss is so profound.
You touched my soul, you warmed my heart, you filled my life with joy;
Fish and birds and milk and stuff and all your Sisky toys.
We talked, we played, we understood how lucky we’d become;
To find each other on that day, was clearly God’s work done.
You came to me when I was alone, became my very best friend;
I hoped it was forever but we knew our time would end.
God sent you to me for awhile, but said he’d need you home;
You stayed as long as possible, and now it’s time to go.
Part of me is missing, it’s a great big giant piece;
The part of me that let go of my precious Baby Sheesh.
My life will never be the same, my heart is filled with love;
I know you’re watching over me, and purring from above.
I love you dearly Baby Sheesh, now and ever still;
I feel your soul around me now and know I always will.
The house it feels so empty, I just don’t know what to do;
I think about you all the time, I love my Baby Boo…
11 years ago I met Chilli. I was single, looking for some feline
companionship, preferably a cute cuddly kitten. I made my way to the
Evanston Animal Shelter to adopt a little feline critter. I was feeling
a little nervous about just picking out a kitten. I felt bad that I
would have to choose, like at a candy store. I thought I might pass up
some kittens and feel bad that I didn't choose them. I told the
counselor what I was looking for. She said , well, we don't have many
kittens, but you might like this cat, Charlie. She described him as a
lap cat that was found and brought to the shelter. They thought he was
about 1 1/2 or 2 years old. Charlie had been taken to the vet already
to be checked out. He had some routine ear mites and was FIV positive,
she explained. She further explained the whole FIV thing and that other
adopters were hesitant to adopt these FIV positive cats. So we walked
to the back . She opened a cage; I walked towards the cage, and into my
arms jumps a huge orange cat. It was love at first sight for both of
us. I asked a little more about FIV and costs that it might entail. I
made the decision to adopt and made an agreement with myself, when the
end was near, give him extra love and care and not do surgeries, etc.
to prolong his life. So off we went, Charlie and me.
Charlie "Kitty" for
a while, because Charlie just did not match his personality, and I
thought it sounded old. Then I just started saying Ch, because his head
would tilt and look at me, so I needed a name that started with Ch. So
Chilli, it was. I used to watch a cartoon with a Chilli Willi character
on it, and this seemed to fit well. Later I found out that it was more
like chili the food, because he sure could drop a smelly poop, and he
had stinky breath too.
got to know each other better, I was amazed at how affectionate and
almost over-friendly he was. He liked to play and talk ALL the time. He
never missed a day greeting me at the door, and never failed to tell me
when he was hungry, which was all the time. He would climb on me like I
was a tree and hold on by his paws. So he developed a lot of cat
muscles over the years. He liked to climb on anyone and everyone. He
liked everyone, and everyone ended up liking him. Even cat haters fell
in love with Chilli.
thing Chilli loved possibly more than me was his cat brush. We went
through five brushes. He would eat the bristles off and he loved to be
brushed and rubbed ALL the time. If I were a masseuse for cats, I could
be rich right now. He liked to be rubbed in his armpits, on his
stomach, on his chin, near his whiskers, on his butt, his ears, his
thighs, you name it, and he liked it. We talked every day. He watched
me every day as if I were HIS entertainment. He would just sit and
stare. So much that a few times I had to step into the bathroom to
change my clothes because I felt a little uncomfortable. Ha-ha!
five times. We watched one of the apartments slowly flood with water
that was creeping towards us. We slept many hours in the bed. We hung
out many times just doing computer work. We made a few visits to Bramer
Animal Hospital in Evanston , IL . We ran around the apartment like
crazies sometimes. We caught a bird in the house together. We ate a
lot. We hung out a lot. We also had the opportunity to make a lot of
friends. We had many friends. And if they weren't a cat lover coming
into the apartment, they left a cat lover. We left them in awe of what
a pet and pet owner can actually be. Ha-ha! I would explain to all the
visitors of his FIV status.
Immunodeficiency Virus What is that? My friends would ask. Well, it's
like HIV in humans, but it is a cat thing. Laughing, well can I get it?
No, that's why it starts with the word Feline... HELLO!!! Then I would
go on to explain that he is still a normal cat, will live normal cat
years, just the ending will probably be a little different. After they
would hang around a while, they realized this was not a normal cat. A
big tiger head, people would say. Big shoulders and paws. Why does he
just sit and stare at me? He keeps brushing against me. Now he's trying
to sit on me. Oh, he wants me to pet him again. Where's his brush? Hold
on, I can calm him down; he likes to be thrown up in the air. He likes
big bear squeezes on the way down. Well let's play with this string for
a while; maybe he'll get tired. He would parade all over the guests,
tormenting them with affection and love while they were trying to watch
a movie or have a chat with me. Eating pizza was difficult because
Chilli wanted some too. After 10 - 12 shoves to the side, he STILL
wanted attention. He was like the energizer bunny; he kept going and
going and going. STOP, was not in Chilli's vocabulary. So if he had a
downfall, this was it, but how can you hate a cat showing you some
end of every night, we both slept with our head on the pillow. He was
the alarm clock. I would awake to a cat staring at me, waiting for me
to feed him. I later figured out, he was sleeping during the day and
waiting for me to get home and play. So when my schedule changed and I
was home more during the day, I am sure he got sick of ME waking him
up. He has been and seen and felt everything I have experienced the
past 11 years. Not just a cat, truly a friend I loved indeed. The past
month he has been losing energy and slowly lost that LIFE he was so
full of. The cat talk turned to quiet wails today, I knew it was time.
He lay on his side with his head on my hand. It has been one of the
saddest days I ever had. Today, February 6th, 2006 at 2pm, death became
our friend. I am sure Chilli is winning him over too with all his love
and affectionate cat kisses.
un to have around
all the time
nside he was a
warrior, fearless, and adventurous
ery loving and
I am positive he
changed my life
finally graduated from Northwestern University in August of 1992 after
some nine years of sustaining a grueling schedule of going to school at
night and working a demanding full-time job during the day. Being a
AA-personality, I soon 'missed' that crazy schedule though, and I
decided to volunteer at the Evanston Animal Shelter next
Spring--against the advice of well-meaning friends who felt I would be
bringing home a multitude of strays. I felt `safe,' however, because `I
had no more room' as I `already' had 2 dogs and a cat. My perceived
`safety' lasted about a month: when I arrived at the shelter on the
morning of June 16, I was directed to the holding cages where new
arrivals were kept. My first encounter was with an aggressively
snarling big black dog whom I decided to pass up. To the right of him
was a quiet but huge German Shepherd, and after just getting snarled
at, I was a little intimidated by her size as well and decided to see
who was in the cage on the left. And there I saw a lightened big puppy
who immediately tucked at my heart. I had to just about drag her out of
her cage: she was so terrified that she draped her long body and big
paws around my feet and refused to get up. Somehow we finally made it
outside into the yard and into the warm sunshine and managed to walk
around a bit. Another volunteer was walking the big Shepherd I had
passed up. When 'my' puppy saw her, she seemed to recognize her and
leapt up to her with excitement and tried to nuzzle with her. But the
big gentle Shepherd was too tired and worn out from her ordeals and
didn't return the acknowledgement. The person walking her told me that
the big Shepherd was the puppy's mother and so I got both dogs' sad
stories: they had been dropped off earlier that same morning by a good
Samaritan who saved the mother and her two puppies from an owner who
was about to kill all three because he couldn't find homes for the
remaining two puppies. Well, one puppy had already found a home with
another shelter volunteer and the other one was about to find one...
there were other dogs waiting impatiently to get out of their cages to
go for a walk, too, but I didn't have the heart to put this terrified
puppy back into hers. So I spent the next 3 hours just with her
agonizing over whether I could handle 3 dogs. I finally decided to give
it a try and drove home to get my other 2 dogs for an introduction.
Everything went smoothly and home the puppy went! She had been so
traumatized that she slept straight thru for the next two days!
my life with Sarah began that was to last but 12 years. She was a
beautiful dog -- half shepherd/half collie: she was huge but sweet and
gentle. She loved children and other dogs and was quite talkative. Her
mere appearance commanded respect from everyone we passed, and many
people would cross the street to avoid her. If they'd only known how
gentle she was!
became my self-appointed bodyguard: when I was about to go to sleep at
night, she would race up the stairs and be the first one on the bed
settling proudly on my pillow. When I got into the bed, she would move
to the end of the bed facing the door to watch. Even when playing and
running with other dogs, she never strayed too far and always kept an
eye on me. I had no doubt that should I ever encounter anyone with ill
intentions, she would fiercely protect me. I felt safe with her and she
felt safe with me.
Sarah underwent an emergency back operation after she sustained
something like a slipped disc that threatened her with total paralysis.
She had tried to jump up on the bed and slid off. She spent five days
in the hospital and I went to see her every evening after work. It
broke my heart to see her in such pain and distress. When she finally
came home, l wondered whether I had been wrong to put her thru this
ordeal. However, she convinced me within a mere 24 hours that I had
done the right thing: her recovery was nothing short of spectacular)
she was home and safe again and, therefore, concentrated on sleeping
& eating and getting well! A luxury we humans don't have since
still have to tend to jobs, families, bills etc. An animal can truly
concentrate on sleep which is the great healer! So soon Sarah was back
to romping with her sisters in the yard! It took a little longer for
her fur to grow back on her back and she looked somewhat like a reverse
'Mohawk' for a while... She even started jumping up on the bed again
with no ill effects!
no major injury remains without
consequence and in the
last two years of her life, Sarah suffered from a degenerative spinal
cord disorder which first rendered her entirely incontinent and then
gradually denied her the use of her back legs. She eventually needed
help just getting up ... and walking ... and squatting. Her last year
was, for those reasons, increasingly difficult for her as well as for
us and I agonized terribly over "when it was time." Again, well-meaning
people suggested that it `was,` but whenever I looked into her eyes, I
knew she was not ready yet and when we added a Dachshund puppy to the
family in March of 2004, she enjoyed playing with him - albeit while
lying down. It was obvious that she was still enjoying life! She even
made it through the winter, but as summer approached, she could barely
walk any more and her legs would crumble underneath her many times on
the way to the `bathroom.' In early July, I reluctantly made that
dreaded appointment with the vet only to (happily) cancel as Sarah got
up by herself the night before, walked to the
dog area in
the yard without faltering and back to the porch and sat down. I had no
clue how she managed to do that. Obviously, she wasn't ready yet!
Unfortunately, this welcome reprieve only lasted 10 short days and then
her front legs ceased to cooperate as well. She tried to sit up, but
was unable to do so and winced in pain trying. In tears, I gave her an
extra pain pill and then made that final appointment that would relieve
her of her failing body the next day. I knew there would be no more
miracle reprieves this time.
I sat on
the floor with her at the vet's and cradled her head in my arms as the
medication slowly put her to sleep forever. Sarah quietly trusted me to
her last breath.
grateful for that 10-day reprieve that had allowed me to spend a little
more time with her, to give her some extra hugs, to thank her for her
faithful love and to say good-bye. I had been grieving over her for a
long time already...
glad that our lives intertwined that day at the Evanston Shelter and
that I had the privilege of having Sarah in my life . She will remain
in my h eart be apart of my soul forever and I hope to see her again
... whole ...one day ... in that place where there is no more sorrow,
no more pain, and where there are no more tears...
July of 2004,
my husband & I adopted Ezra (Care name: Gulliver) from Polly.
the time, he was moridly obese, roughly 7 years old and missing all but
4 of his teeth. But the minute she placed him in my arms we knew we
were a family.
We knew little about his history other than we were his (at least)
third family. How anyone can give up this cat remains a mystery.
He was by far the most friendly, laid back & emotionally
animal we have ever encountered. He wanted nothing more than to be
friends with whomever or whatever he encountered. He would fearlessly
approach our guests and offer his belly for a rub. He was brilliant
with other cats & aggressive babies. My husband-who was so
to cats that he would tear up whenever he went to my Mother's home-was
miraculously not allergic to Ezra. We absolutely struck gold.
With rescuing an adult animal, there is always a risk of getting a sick
one. After a number of trips to the vet, we learned that Ezra had an
enlarged heart & liver, heart murmer and diabetes. The vet
estimated that he was not seven but at least 10 years old. His health
quickly declined. It was our intention of keeping him comfortable and
happy until it was time for him to go.
On 2/22/06, we had Ezra euthanized. We miss him terribly. Our feeling
of loss is amplified by the frustration of only having a year and half
with him. But I am convinced that he was loved & spoiled more
his time with us than ever before and that puts us at ease.
We are so grateful that we got to be Ezra's parents.
Ryan & Amy
husband and I had to put down our beautiful girl, Connie (CARE Name:
Carmen/black German Shepherd). She suffered from a disease commonly
found with German Shepherds called Degenerative Myelopathy, which
closely matches the human form of multiple sclerosis. Over the course
of six months, Connie's back legs became paralyzed. Connie overcame
obstacle after obstacle--never giving up her fight.
tried a number
of medications and exercises, which we do believe prolonged her quality
of life, but unfortunately, researchers are not quite to the point
where they are able to halt the progression of the disease. But Connie,
my husband, and I sure did try to be the success story!
I got Connie
from CARE in July of 2003, I knew that I was ready for some changes in
my life, and I thought that the responsibility of a dog would help put
me on the right track. After just a few of days of sniffing each other
out, Connie and I became attached at the hip. A couple of weeks after
getting Connie, out of the blue, my now husband came into our lives.
Over the next few months we became a little "family."
impossible to believe that we had Connie in our lives for only two and
a half years. She had such a presence and personality that grabbed
everyone's attention. Everyone she met was quick to say that she was
the best dog they ever met, and upon her passing, the mourning
experienced throughout our extended families was unbelievable.
in the last few months of her life was very trying both emotionally and
physically. But given, the alternative, I would not trade one moment of
it. I am so thankful that we were there to give her the quality of life
she deserved. It will forever be impossible for me to believe that
someone abandoned this absolutely perfect dog. I am so happy Connie
passed by all of the other people she met while at CARE.
were a perfect fit! Thank you for matching us up!
wanted to send everyone a note to let you know that Mully passed away
on September 23, 2005. We had only had him for 10 months, but he was
the best thing to ever happen to my husband and I. His spirit and
intelligence were truly remarkable. Our hearts are aching since his
passing but we find comfort in knowing that he passed quickly and
had been through a series of training programs but still struggled with
his anxiety around new people. We took him to the see an animal
behaviorist that worked with us on a series of exercises and processes
to help him overcome that anxiety. We also had opted to try a medicinal
treatment program. On Friday, September 23rd,
(my husband and Mully) daily commute home from the office,
Mulligan’s heart stopped. We rushed him to our
office, but it was too late – he was gone. We decided not to
perform an autopsy. His short life had already been filled with so much
turmoil that we wanted his body to rest in peace.
now trying to focus on all the fun we had with Mulligan. He was the
bright spot at the end of every day. He was multilingual (having
learned words in many languages). He loved to swim and chase ducks at
our lake house. He snored louder than my husband. He loved it when
people would touch his big face and rub his belly. He always made me
smile. He’ll always make me smile… I never thought
grieve for an animal the way I am grieving for Mulligan. He was the
best boy in the world and we’ll never ever forget him. His
will forever be apart of our lives!
peace our little bully baby – we’ll see you again
to Evanston not knowing anyone, and immediately went in search of a
cat. I happened to go into the CARE on a September
am glad that I did, because that night changed my life. I
specifications for a cat and immediately they paired me with
Grover. He had been in a foster home and I was off to meet
Grover. We had an immediate connection. I fell in
a four legged creature. I brought him home, it was a long few
days as he got use to my apartment and my daily routine.
Eventually, as most cat owners come to realize, I was living him him
and not vice versa. He was a vibrant, intelligent cat who
sitting in the bathtub and drinking water from the faucet as well as
sitting in the window watching cars drive by. He was twenty
pounds of cuddly, warm, happiness and love. If I'd had a bad
at work, I knew that once I put the key in the lock, he'd be there to
greet me with a meow and a purr. He was my watch kitty, he'd
near me while I was doing dishes or sitting on the couch.
make sure I'd know he was there by meowing. I had some of the
best conversations with him, I'd talk and he'd listen and give the best
advice, meowing. He'd cuddle with me on cold winter days and
on the tile bathroom floor on warm days. He was a clever
illness came suddenly, I began noticing changes in his behavior and
rapid weight loss. He was diagnosed with chronic renal
early in October. His weight kept dropping and he wasn't the
vibrant, happy kitty. He was getting worse, eventually I made
hardest decision I've ever had to make, I had to do what was right for
Grover. On October 27th, I laid Grover to rest. I
him and told him how lucky I was to have a great cat
he'll always be with me. He was my best friend and my
confidant. He knew the most about me and no matter what I
loved me. He was part of my family, my mother always
affectionately referred to Grover as her "grandkitty" and would travel
to Iowa for holidays. Everyone loved Grover and he loved
six years on this earth, I had him
for two. I like
to think that in his last two years he was loved
more than in
his first four. He meant the world to me.
I'm sure that I will ever get over his passing, but I know
he's with me.
tried to convey what Grover meant to me, but there are no
describe the devotion and love I felt for him.
you, CARE for a paring me great
cat. I couldn't have asked for a better pet.
memory of Mookie, Adopted 1990? From Evanston CARE
I found him at the local shelter the day my shepherd died. I stopped in
on the way home from the vet to see what the hours were, when they had
open adoptions. Our other dog needed a companion, and it was lonely
with only one dog in the house. By chance, they were open and had some
time to show me what dogs they had. I was hoping for another shepherd
or maybe a husky. Definately a female, a dog that could go camping and
into the woods and keep up with an active 4 year old boy.
They brought out Mookie. He was a little black Labrador Retriever mixed
with some sort of terrier. What he was not, was everything I was
looking for... female, shepherd, or a husky. He had floppy ears, paws
too big for his feet, and a wet sloppy tongue that barely stayed in his
mouth, and the absolute silliest look on his face. He had a
sillier name too. I knew it was a mistake, it was wrong, he wasn't the
"right" dog for me. But he looked up at me, rested his head on my leg,
and those eyes said you'll never be sorry if I come home with you.
He was not a hunting dog, unless you count hunting for handouts at the
dinner table. He was not really a retriever, but he would find, steal,
and eat a loaf of bread if he could sniff it out, even in the
fridge. He wasn't even really my dog. He followed my wife around like
a, well.... like a lost puppy,since the day I brought him home from the
shelter. Of the dogs we've had over the last 20 or so years, this one
was "Her Dog". Where she went he was there, usually underfoot. He
always got his 10% 'agent's fee' of anything she might be eating. He
slept at the foot end of the bed, muzzle resting on whatever body part
was convenient for him to reach. At least one of us was
He never hunted, did not like the water, did like cats, loved peanut
butter, hated to fetch anything, preferred being indoors to outside,
watched television and never once complained when we turned off the
Animal Channel to watch a movie. Wasn't allowed on the furniture but
made himself quite at home in the recliner or on the sofa when no one
He was my wife's dog, when ever she was here. When it was only he and I
at home, he was my shop dog, resting on his carpet in the corner or
getting covered in sawdust or shavings. He watched me build more things
than anyone else, and he never once criticised my work or
complained about me using the wrong tool for the job. He always knew
enough to be looking the other way when I made dumb mistakes too, and
didn't go telling about the time I miscut a plank for using a metric
scale instead of the english one.
He was the one who always let me know when the steaks were done on the
grill, who finished off the leftovers, who made sure that the chicken
gizzards and fat trimmings never went to waste, and watched over my
cooking to see that I never over-salted the pasta. He called attention
to the boiling over pots and burnt eggs when my wife cooked, a better
timer than the smoke detectors.
Labrador's stay puppies for a long time. Full of energy and enthusiasm,
alert, interested in anything in his surroundings. He was a puppy for
the longest time until the first seizure a month ago. Grand mal, total
loss of control, brain function, smell, sight, hearing. He turned into
an old dog at the turn of a switch. The doc said he wasn't in any pain,
gave him a mild tranquilizer to help control and prevent the seizures
but it wasn't helping much. He had a second a week ago, worse than the
first, and he got older still. His back legs didn't work as well now,
and he went off his food and water. He was now officially an "Ol'
Dawg", having to be lifted onto the bed at night to sleep.
Monday, I came home from taking my son to school and found him trapped
under the bed, in the midst of a third seizure. Scared, alone, and
trapped, I got him out and comforted him best as I could. He slowly
came out of it over the next few hours. I knew that it was time. He
spent the rest of the day pacing the house, dragging his back leg,
unable to hear, partly blind from the last episode, pacing a circle of
the rooms looking for a place to rest but unable to stop. He would fall
over and then sleep where and how he fell for a short time, get up and
start pacing again.
When my wife got home from work, we took him out to the car. One
stumbling lap around the yard, unsure of foot and balance he marked HIS
yard. My son helped lift him into the back of the truck.
He did not go quietly into that good night. His fraililty of body and
brain belied a spirit buried deep within. His 15 year old body could
neither hear nor see, his sense of smell was all but gone. He could
barely recognize where he was or who he was with. My wife and I stroked
and held him until he took a last breath and with a heavy shudder and
sigh was gone.
For the first time in 23 years there is no dog at the foot of the bed,
no one to "guard" me in the shop or watch when I cook. No one begging
for a monent away from my writing for an ear scratch or a quick run in
the yard just to see who's out there. No one to nudge my leg whilst in
the shop, reminding me it's time for a break.
No he was not a hunting dog, but he might have been if there was bread
to be found. He was not a lot of things that some, even most, dogs are.
What he was, was a loyal friend and true companion. What he is, is
Goodbye old friend. We'll see you at the bridge someday.
For Mookie, 1990 - April 11, 2005
adopted our Zena (Angie was your name for her), a Black Lab
mix from the Evanston pound on July 6th 2004. She
channel 9, a regular movie star . A wonderful
Quite friendly, but would defend "Her " backyard like
Great watchdog, obedient, smart,and so good looking and a good
kisser. She would wait for me to get home
from work, to
run after her ball at the park, that was her job, to chase that ball
and bring it back to me....we attended the Paws dog
show her off. On to October, scratching her belly,
I noticed some bumps, brought her to the vet, vet said,
cancer, Xrays showed a large tumor in her lung. Not good, we kept her
happy with regular vet visits, meds etc. until tumors
her paw, metastasized from the main tumor. Thank you for a
R.I.P. ZENA 12-20 04 You will be missed!!!!!