A BUCKET LIST FOR AMISH  

Amish was our first Cairn - we got him from a man who was breeding Huskies and no longer wanted him. I retired when he was eleven, and that was when our bond really strengthened. He helped me weather a tough transition from working life to retirement and stayed by my side every day.

Summer came and life was great - until Amish started having some pain in his belly. The news was not good - it was inoperable liver cancer. He had just a few weeks or months to live. I was devastated that I was going to lose the dog I was just learning to know and love. There were so many things we had not done together. Since Amish was still feeling pretty well, I decided that he and I would make his "bucket list" and plan several activities and day trips together with no distractions, to celebrate the time we had left. 

Some advice for others who take this "bucket list" approach: 

• Don't wait too long. Spend these special times together even if your dog is in perfect health. He won't be here as long as you want him to be.
• Learn to live in the moment. Your dog can teach you how - just watch and listen. No cell phone, no distractions - just you and your dog.
• Keep a journal and take pictures.
• Take some time off work to spend with your dog in his last weeks.
• Tailor your activities to your dog's energy level.
• The adventures do not need to be trips to exotic, far-away places. Focus on what he loves to do most, and live it with him. See the world through his eyes.

Every item on our bucket list was meant to be a celebration of us together. So our adventures were everyday, ordinary things which became extraordinary for me, since I had spent so little time with this incredible Cairn while I was working. One day we ate forbidden food - ice cream and hamburgers, and then walked by the river. Another day we drove down country roads to watch sand hill cranes and cows grazing in the pasture. He took his first trip to the pet supply store to pick out a toy (all those years I had gone there without him) - and he chose his most favorite squeaky toy. I bought three of them, and allowed him to tear all three to shreds that afternoon. We threw Frisbees and balls for hours on one bright sunny day. The most memorable trip was his first overnight trip to Lake Michigan. I will always remember the cloudless blue sky, the gentle waves, the beautiful white sand, and most of all, Amish and I together walking along the beach. His eyes shone and his tail wagged like never before.

As the days turned cooler, he told me that his time was drawing near. All the years of balancing work and family had made it hard for me to sit still, but I held and rocked him every day. It comforted him and he put his head next to my heart, comforting me and helping me to find peace.

It has been seven years since he went to the Rainbow Bridge and I miss him every day. But my journal and picture album help me remember him and those very special times together. He taught me how very special Cairns are. I will always love you, Amish.   

-by Marilyn Royle, Grass Lake, Michigan 

CASEY CuddlePuppy (February 8, 2015)

My Casey was born on September 10, 1998 and came into my life on December 13, 1998. I call her the dog that cured my broken heart. I had lost another dog and had decided that I just could not go through that hurt again, so no more dogs for me. She was brought home at that time for my kids to help get over the loss of our other dog. I tried my best to keep my distance. Then one evening she crawled up on my lap to my chest and fell asleep. She had my heart from that moment on and became my Casey CuddlePuppy.

I have so many great memories of Casey. One that stands out is the first Mother's Day after we had gotten her. She got out the door and took off running. So out went the kids and me, still in our jammies, chasing after her. She would stop and look at us till we got close enough and then would take off running again. It wasn't so great that day, but looking back has given us many laughs. She also loved her doggie walks. All you had to do was ask her and she came running.

She was such a great friend to my kids and me. Always listening to our troubles and seeming to understand and ready to play any minute. She was very therapeutic to my son who has Asperger's. I don't think he would be where he is today without her love. He has done better than they ever thought.

About five years ago she suffered a major seizure. I was told she was unresponsive and was advised to put her to sleep. I went in to say my goodbye and when I said "my Casey CuddlePuppy" she looked up at me. She hadn't given up and neither could I. She came home the next day. For those five years we had some bad times but a lot more good times. My big fear was the thought of having to put her to sleep. She always seemed to pull through and rebound to her same old self. She had that true scrappy terrier nature. Some of you may remember me asking for prayers for her. I thank you so much for them and the good thoughts sent her way. She passed away on Sunday February 8, 2015 at 4 a.m. in my arms on her own.

My heart and home now feel so empty without my Casey. With her passing she took a piece of my heart with her that she healed years ago. Till we meet again at Rainbow Bridge, my Casey CuddlePuppy.

-by Toni Parish Rogols, Circleville, Ohio

CASSIE (January 7, 2015)

We lost our beautiful baby girl on Wednesday, January 7, 2015. She had a stroke. Though her name was Cassie, my husband and I always called her "baby girl." She was our little angel, and we will miss her every day. She was so smart, sweet and loving.  I know we will see her again, and that gives us comfort. Our baby girl... she was truly loved.

-by Kelly Hildebrand, Milford, Michigan

-by Holly Crotty (Foster Mom), Pekin, Illinois

LINUS (September 20, 2014)

During the spring of 2006, after the loss of my little four pound black Pom rescue, a friend encouraged me to start looking for another furball. At one of many visits to the local SPCA, we saw this little blonde terrier in a huge corner cage, huddled on the cold cement floor. They brought him out and he sat on my lap, just looking up at me with those big brown eyes. And that was it. I was his. His name was Linus. From that moment on, we were attached at the hip.

 

For eight years, we were an item. You didn't see me without him. You didn't see him without putting up with me. I'd gotten a new VW Bug, too, right after Linus came home. So it was his car, really. Linus was the Navigator; I just steered and shifted and occasionally supplied vanilla soft-serve ice cream. We went everywhere together. It was true: love me, love my dog.

 

Linus was the perfect buddy. He was a sweetie. He loved everyone. Everyone, to a person, fell in love with him. Offers to "babysit" were ongoing and constant. When The Saints (the pack of St. Bernards fostered by my neighbor) went marching by, Linus did somersaults on the back of the couch. He intercepted the mail as it came in the slot, making sure the mail knew who was boss. 

Linus would eat to live, not live to eat. But he did love his Greenie in the morning. After his morning whiz, it was Greenie time. He would sit in the kitchen, patiently waiting for me to get my act together, then gently take it out of my hand and carry it out to his sunspot in the living room and slowly, deliberately, enjoy his treat. I would watch him, sipping my coffee, and know that we had survived the night and all was well with the world.

 

I sold my Pennsylvania condo in March of 2014. For a couple of months, Linus and I were virtually homeless, traveling around, couch-surfing, fishing, camping - just having a blast. Looking for a new place to call home, making new friends, re-connecting with old ones. Linus really was such a good guest. And we kept everyone apprised of our adventures on Facebook.

 

In June, we moved to Vermont. In July, I fractured my ankle, badly. He was with me when I fell and sat at my head until help arrived. So there we were: me, just out of the hospital, in a wheelchair, not yet unpacked in a new place, knowing no one. Linus, not yet familiar with his new surroundings, but not even leaving my side to go explore. I really was amazed. He did take good care of me, never letting me out of his sight. He even went to therapy with me.

 

He learned how to scoot, just in time, out of the way of the wheel chair. When I graduated to crutches, he walked a couple of Linus-lengths ahead, always looking back to make sure I was keeping pace.

 

I had noticed that Linus was moving slower, but I thought he was always just waiting for me. He even ate slower, and not as much. Soon, even Greenies didn't excite him. And then, in September, he was gone. A mass had formed around his spleen. He died with me, at home. He fought. He kept looking at me, trying to breathe. And then he was gone.

 

Grieving is a pain in your heart that changes over time, but is always there. I had lost other pets, certainly. But the loss of him is different. I miss him beyond words. He was my rock. He was my little guy. I sometimes wonder if he was really here... Could I have really been that lucky? Or did I just dream this little dreamboat?

 

So please feel free to share his memory with me. His heart was big enough...he'll be able to fit you in, too.

 

MADDIE (November 28, 2014) 

We called her "The Best Dog." Maddie came to us on May 10, 2008, at age seven. She was not in the best of health as she had been a puppy mill dog. We picked her up at Peggy Nalley's house in Louisville, Kentucky. I took one look at the poor dog and wondered if she would make it to our home in Michigan.    

Once Maddie settled in with us, though, she greatly improved. We began feeding her high quality dog food and in no time, she shaped up beautifully. We had discovered her favorite thing - Maddie loved to eat! She made a funny loud noise to get our attention when it was time for a meal. We swear, Maddie could tell time.   

The funniest thing Maddie once did occurred during a thunder storm. She usually hid in a dark place, often the bathroom. This time, she went into our bedroom. I found her on top of a printer, which was nestled between two shelves. Maddie was stuck! Ultimately, Gary was able to move her around and free her. Maddie really was a smart dog... but not very smart that time!

We have so many memories of our sweet girl. Maddie loved to run to the house as if she were racing our other dog, Kathy, and now, Lucinda. If someone left socks on the floor, she would take them to her bed. Or, if we went away, she invaded a box of work gloves kept in our entry way and scattered them on the living room rug.  

On the day after Thanksgiving, we suspect Maddie had a stroke. I was with her when it happened. It was very fast. We buried her next to Kathy, and now they are together. Lucinda, our other Cairn, is helping us heal. We were so blessed to have been the ones to adopt Maddie. She truly was the best dog, and we dearly miss her.      

-by Judy and Gary Grimes, Palmyra, Michigan

MOLLY (April 27, 2014)

Our little Molly girl, a Cairn Terrier, was born on July 20th, 2010 and passed away on April 27th, 2014. She died instantly after being hit by a car in front of our house. The pain ripped me apart. Part of my own being died right there with her. I could sense her spirit leaving; my heart was breaking - I loved her so very much.  

She came into my life kind of unplanned. I had more time on my hands and my husband and I had drifted apart over the years. I missed love and companionship. Then Molly came, never planned, and bought in a pet store because I did not know any better at the time. I was scared, doubting if I did the right thing. She was the first pet I ever owned.

Molly became a love affair in my live. We had three wonderful years and I will forever cherish many memories of the wonderful times we spent together. I took her everywhere. By bringing love and joy into our lives, Molly helped to strengthen our marriage bonds. She came into our lives for a reason and was taken from us to make room for a new rescue dog, Eddie, and a new puppy. We have her ashes and when the time is right, we know of Molly's favorite "hunting grounds" where we will set her free forever. Molly I miss you!

-by Gesa Adriance, Cary, North Carolina 

PEACHES (September 5, 2014)

Peaches left this world in September. We had a wonderful 8+ years together, and we spent nearly every day of them together. Peaches was a companion, sidekick, helpmate, my receptionist, and a joy. She walked eagerly to work with me and took her job very seriously. She announced people coming in (sometimes she continued to "announce" them after they had been in for a while!) and occasionally could be found sleeping on the job. Peaches had "big dog energy" and never felt smaller than any dog she met; even gigantic ones. She spent over a year traveling with me in my RV and loved to sit up on the front dashboard so she could see where we were going. We visited many people along the way.

Peaches was fine right up until three weeks before she died when she stopped eating and began drinking a lot of water. It turned out she had hepatitis. She continued to walk to work with me until one week before she died, when she did not want to walk home. I am grateful for the time we had together.

Mark Hanks, a wonderful kindhearted vet, came to the house and helped Peaches transition. Peaches is buried in the back yard. I have a hole in my heart. I will be forever grateful to CRUSA for my beloved Peaches. What a special girl!

I found solace in poet Mary Oliver's book, Dog Songs. Here is an excerpt from it:

"And it is exceedingly short, his galloping life. Dogs die so soon. I have my stories of that grief, no doubt many of you do also. It is almost a failure of will, a failure to love, to let them grow old--or so it feels. We would do anything to keep them with us, and to keep them young. The one gift we cannot give."

-by Penny Shar, Bangor, Maine 

RILEY (July 8, 2014)

Jim and I adopted Riley in June 2010 from CRUSA through foster mom Barbara Dulaney. Riley was born on September 20, 2003 and was one of the most beautiful Cairn terriers I had ever seen. He had a darling foxy face and a gorgeous wheaten coat. He was also the most territorial and fear aggressive dog I had ever seen. He had been an owner-surrender, ostensibly because he was alone for many hours every day. It was apparent to us that he had also been abused. He attacked and bit several of our friends and eventually had to be kept away from all visitors. In spite of his serious issues and difficulties, we loved him dearly and we have never been loved as much in return by any dog as we were by Riley. He was our constant companion at home...wherever we were, he was there also. 

He was extremely sensitive to external stimuli and any outside sights and sounds, such as a truck and gardening equipment. Anyone walking down the street would send him into a frenzy; no matter if they had a dog with them or not. As a result of his anxiety, on July 8, 2014, Riley suffered his second heat stroke in a year, with an unheard of body temperature of 109 degrees. His little body could not withstand this second onslaught and, as it was apparent that he had suffered neurological damage, we made the extremely difficult decision to put him down. After six months, we still grieve for Riley and I suspect we always will. We only had four years with this beautiful and sweet little boy but I believe they were the best years of his life and he, in return, gave us so much pleasure and joy.

ROB ROY (July 28, 2014)

-by Jim New, Clearwater, Florida 

RUDY (April 4, 2014)

I'd been hanging out with a friend who trains, breeds and grooms dogs. One day in September 1998, a tiny puppy was dropped off. This little boy was only three months old. Already he'd been abused and abandoned. We brought him home and he immediately became king of the castle.

Rudy was my pal, my best friend and constant companion. We took him everywhere with us, whether short trips around town or all the way to Maine, New York and Canada. No matter where or when, he only wanted to be with us. He was a beloved member of our family. We shared so much, so many good times and some not so good. He was always happy when we were, roo-rooing his pleasure. When I cried, he would lick tears from my cheek.

Toward the end of his life he no longer wanted to walk much. I suspect that arthritis was becoming problematic for him. He did love to be outside, however, so I got a pet stroller. He loved to go for a walk in his stroller, just loved it! His vision was severely limited by cataracts but he would sit in the stroller like a Prince, head held high, sniffing the air. Friends and neighbors would greet him just as they always had and of course he reveled in the attention.

He was nearly sixteen when he contracted pneumonia. After a few weeks, several trips to the vet for antibiotics and doing everything we could to support him, he woke me up one morning about 3:00, choking. I rushed from bed, scooped him up and we sat in the bathroom with the shower running hot for steam. Later, we made our final trip to the vet. It was a sad day, heartbreaking. As we sat on the sofa that day remembering him, Rudy's spirit bounded to me across a sunny meadow; he was a puppy again! He ran right up to me and said, "Don't feel bad mom, I feel good now"; he then bounded away. I cried and cried tears of loss, tears of relief that he was out of pain and able to breathe, and tears of gratitude for his happiness. He was such a huge part of my life. I think of him all the time and am thankful that we were given so much time together.

Rudy was and remains my heart and soul. Anyone who's ever loved a dog, and loved a Cairn, understands this.

(Click HERE for the long version of Rudy's story.)  

-By Lisa White, Ayers, Massachusetts

RUSTEY (September 21, 2014)

My Cairn's name was Rustey. He came to us in 2002 at the age of two. The local Humane Society had a pet show to find homes for the dogs they had at the shelter. A lady who had asked the shelter to find a home for her dog overheard us looking for a small dog. She came into the mall with this cute little red and blonde Cairn and we knew at that moment we would be adding him to our family.

Rustey was my best friend and brother, as I was an only child. We did everything together including riding my Moped and stopping by the local ice cream shop to share an ice cream cone.

When I went off to college, I knew when I came home to visit that Rustey would always be there wagging his happy tail for me. My apartment did not allow dogs so once I moved out on my own, Rustey had to stay at my parents' home. He was set to be the ring bearer in my wedding.

SALLIE (January 22, 2015)

My sweet sassy Sallie was just such a gift and a joy in my life! How did I get so lucky? I found CRUSA by way of Stephanie Saunders in Southern California. Stephanie knew I was a volunteer for other rescue groups, and asked me to foster a new intake for CRUSA. When we made the arrangements - from the owner surrender to my picking Sallie up - it all went smoothly. When I met Stephanie to meet my foster, there she was in her little Sherpa travel bag. I opened it up to see the most adorable face I had ever seen! It was love at first sight.   

I put the precious dog in my car with the bag open, and she crawled into my lap, looked up at me, and I knew... this was IT! We fell in love in about five seconds. I knew then that this one was not going to leave me; I had to adopt her. Sallie further confirmed the decision when she met my other dogs and they behaved so well together. It was like they, too, knew this was forever. Sallie was born on September 7, 1999, surrendered to CRUSA on July 23, 2004, and officially adopted by me on August 22, 2004.

We had an amazing life together. She was so loved, so special in every way. Everybody loved my Sallie. Even my veterinarian said she was one of his favorites among all of my dogs. She was that one dog in a million!  

This past New Year's Eve, Sallie became ill. It was sudden and fast. I did everything to help her, but it was not meant to be. I listened to her, and she was never to suffer a minute. Sallie peacefully went to Rainbow Bridge on January 22, 2015, and took half of my heart with her. I am forever grateful for having been blessed by this little Cairn girl Sallie. My other Cairns and Westies are together now once again. To say that I miss her is just such an understatement. My heart is broken.

TOBY (October 6, 2014)

Our little Cairn rescue came to us on July 26, 2012 as Tonka, but we renamed him Toby. Toby was born on June 9, 2003. He was our first rescue so we were surprised at how sweet he was. At first it seemed he didn't know how to be a "real" dog, but it didn't take him long to adjust with our other boys (a Cairn and Sheltie) leading the way. In a few months Toby was running outside, playing and snuggling up to us and his brothers. It was a huge accomplishment to us and it was such a pleasure to watch him transform into a very happy Cairn. We fell in love with Toby right from the beginning.

He was so afraid of thunderstorms; we had never been so attuned to the weather until Toby joined us. He happily slept with us every night, but was also just as happy sleeping with his brothers. He wanted nothing but love, warmth, food and a place to rest his head. We loved this little dog like no other. We were blessed for a little over two years until he got sick and we got the news he had a huge tumor that was taking over all his internal organs. He couldn't eat and was in a great deal of pain; there was nothing they could do for him. On October 6, 2014 he was calmly put to sleep in my arms; I didn't want to leave him. Although we only had him for two years, Toby gave us a lifetime of love in return.   

VALENTINE (January 27, 2015)

Our fourteen year old wirehaired dachshund Valentine died a few weeks ago on January 27, 2015, after a three year battle with Cushing's Disease. She was born on December 1st, 2000, in a litter of three shorthaired and three wirehaired dogs.

Valentine was beautiful, with huge silky reddish curls. A true family girl, and very well behaved, she got along with family, dogs and cats. 

Valentine loved her "people" most and was loving and faithful. She also loved to eat - meal time was a special time to Valentine.

We will always keep Valentine in our memories, close to our hearts.

A TRIBUTE TO OUR RAINBOW DOGS IN PICTURES 

Please click HERE (and then choose Slideshow for best results) for a beautiful album of those dogs we remember and pay tribute to in this issue. Thank you to all who shared their grief and their love through the stories in this issue. 

THE RAINBOW BRIDGE 

Just this side of heaven is a place called the Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to the Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together.

--Author Unknown