owned by Adrian Milledge and Joanne Bednall

from near Lichfield, Staffordshire, UK – www.roloretrieverblog.co.uk

“He’s rioting! He’s rioting!”  was commonly used by family and friends to sum up the antics of our eight-week-old Golden Retriever puppy Rolo, who 11 years later, still hasn’t managed to shake off this description.

While every area of his body apart from his hips (how ironic!) is now ravaged by arthritis and he’s succumbed to some typical canine pensioner afflictions, he is still a puppy at heart.

At dog training more than a decade ago, Rolo was as nice as pie for our trainer Will, who regaled us with tales of his canine charity fund-raising missions to France across the English Channel balanced on a cluster of wine boxes lashed together with string, while our pet sat patiently at his side and gazed adoringly into his eyes. 

But at home the young retriever could only be described as a teenage tearaway, a delinquent who did his own thing on his own terms. He soon learned he could get a lot past his first-time dog-owning ‘parents’ and behaved accordingly. In fact, to be honest, recall still hasn’t been nailed, unless “Rolo! Come!” is accompanied by copious stick waving and yells of “What’s this then?”, “Pussycat – look!” or “Grandma grandpa’s here!”

He would happily retrieve a stick or ball once but would give you a “go get it yourself” look if you dared be so careless with the object again.

And so the years went on and Rolo’s character became more entrenched – and we loved him more for it. If you weren’t 100 per cent on your guard, he’d take himself off to personally meet everyone in the vicinity, inspect every corner of their homes and introduce himself to their children and pets. He’d open every door or gate – he knows which type of latch or catch requires a downward nose movement or an upward one – and tiptoe over cattle grids. “NO!” was just a word he never seemed to grasp.

We’ll never forget the time about eight years ago when we were between homes and staying in a relative’s house. Rolo was firmly ensconced in the new extension, courtesy of a child-proof gate. Or so we thought. On returning  home, there was that familiar ‘dog on bed landing on floor’ sound from above our heads and that intelligent face would appear at the top of the stairs. “You forgot to shut the gate,” we’d each argue furiously at the other. Until, one day, when we pretended to go out and spied on him through a crack in the door. Sure enough, out Einstein-esque retriever had learned to squeeze the top bar between his teeth – as a human hand would – and push his weight against the gate at just the right moment to swing it open. Film companies would spend hours (and pay a handsome fee no doubt) training a dog to do that – and our boy worked it out for himself. We had a new admiration for him after that. And only yesterday, despite his advancing years and painful joints, he insisted on dragging his brand new bed and its entire contents of doggie duvet and covers all the way up the stairs – just because he could. Talk about being doggedly determined. 

Everyone of course says that their golden is special. As far as Rolo is concerned, though, they threw the mould away ages ago. And maybe that is a good thing – could the world cope with Rolo II – The Return? We doubt it!

by: Chad Burgess

Disclaimer: Names/conditions and other personal information from a Therapy Visit cannot be shared. Chad Burgess, Carla Donovan-Burgess and Gopher are volunteers and do not officially represent any institution mentioned in these visits. The experiences, conversations are true and really took place the names of persons, if given have only been changed to protect the privacy of those we visit.

Carla and I were both warned that at some point in our therapy visits there would be one patient that would really touch us. This is not to say we aren’t touched by all the people we visit, it is that at least one would cause you to look past your objectivity, get close to your dog, and make you stay longer than scheduled. The time has come and for the purpose of this story we will call him Steve.

Steve is a shy little boy who is extremely ill. He is undergoing a dangerous treatment to help him fight a disease that could take this life before he gets the chance to grow up. Steve is only seven and is a typical little boy at first appearance. He is terribly shy and when he talks with you it he never looks at you, always down or through his mother. When I wrote this I had three wonderful opportunities to learn about Steve.

Gopher and I arrived and we took our typical place by the fireplace in the little room where our visits are held. There was a mother and a little boy that were already there waiting for us. This was Steve and I couldn’t help but notice that he smiled at Gopher as soon as we walked into the room. In the therapy setting with a dog it is the opposite as in the public, when walking down the street you should always ask for permission to pet a dog. In the therapy setting you ask the person if they want to say hi and do not approach until there is an affirmation. Steve looked for a moment over his portable video game device then quickly turned to look at his mom who told him it was okay. Instead of getting up and coming over he seemed in sink deeper into the chair, covering his face leaving only narrow slits of his eyes looking over his gaming device. I could not help but smile when I noted the power light indicator was black and not the glowing crimson or jade as it would when this device was in operation. I looked down at Gopher smiling and gave him a pet. Steve stayed put in his chair.

After a few minutes a few more kids started to arrive and began visiting with Gopher. I couldn’t help but notice the gaming device had slumped away from Steve’s face and he watched closely how the kids were interacting with Gopher and how I was interacting with them. I am not quite sure when or how it came about but without me noticing Steve had moved from his chair and was thoroughly petting Gopher and Gopher focused his soft loving brown eyes directly on Steve and somewhat embarrassingly did not acknowledge the other kids as much. I don’t know if I can ever knowingly explain why he did that, Steve was not stroking a particular spot that Gopher desires he was softly patting his chest something done 100’s of times a day and a move that has never drawn his focus so intently. Did Gopher know Steve needed him ‘more’ than the other kids at that moment? Did he know they were beginning to form a friendship? I don’t think any of us will ever know. Here we were though, with Gopher, who as a canine will instinctively not look a stranger directly in the eye,  had those deep chestnut brown eyes, that appear to have a wisdom and knowledge beyond me, was staring directly into Steve’s eyes.

The other kids, many of them had seen and played with Gopher before, excitedly ran off to join in the arts and craft activity happening in the room adjacent to us. This left Steve alone with Gopher. I spoke with Steve a few times, and he would respond, but always kept looking at Gopher. Gopher decided to settle in and lay down on his side to take in the full massage given by Steve. This would continue for nearly thirty minutes when Steve suddenly got up. Gopher raised his head at the loss of his masseur. Steve went over to the chair and picked up his gaming device came back over and lay down on the floor resting his head on Gopher’s chest and shoulder. I learned at this moment that only the day before Steve had undergone a long and exhausting treatment. His mother asked him if he needed to go upstairs and go to bed, Steve looked at his mother and in a loud affirmative tone said “NO,  MOM!” His mother had told him how happy this time was making her that due to his illness and his innate shyness he was not engaging with anyone or anything. I looked back to Gopher and Steve during this discussion and discovered that Steve had turned the gaming device on this time and the glow of the screen illuminating his and Gophers face who had draped his neck over Steve’s shoulder and rested his head on Steve’s chest. I was startled at first and exchanged looks with Steve’s mom to see if this was okay or if I needed to move Gopher. She shook her head no with tears in her eyes watching her son interact with another living being for the first time in months.

Amazed by this I watched as Steve continued to play his game and noticed that he was talking the entire time. Gopher also did not go to sleep or close this eyes he just kept his eyes open looking at the gaming screen and Steve through the corners of his eyes, moving those Golden eyebrows back and forth. The time came for Gopher and I to leave came too quickly, and I ignored the clock fifteen more minutes passed this way, when Steve’s mom asked me if I wasn’t supposed to leave. I acknowledged that I was, and Steve sat straight up and turned to Gopher. He looked right into his face and said “I don’t want you to leave Gopher.” I told him I was sorry but it was time for Gopher to go home and get his dinner, Steve kept looking at Gopher and asked “Gopher, can you come back, when will you be back?” I told him we would be back in just a few days as we were visiting the facility twice that week. Gopher had moved into a sit and placed one paw on Steve’s arm not breaking the gaze. Steve then said “I will see you when you come back.” putting both arms around Gopher Steve gave him a hug, and Gopher reciprocated by resting his head on Steve’s back. Steve’s mom thanked me for my visit and bringing Gopher and I told her not hanks needed it is always a pleasure to come here. I grabbed Gopher’s pack and quickly and headed out the door before anyone could notice the tears I had in my eyes.

I loaded Gopher in the car and after I regained my composure called Carla and my father immediately to tell them the story. I added that if Gopher decided that this was it and he didn’t want to do therapy work anymore that I could retire him that night and still feel that all the work, time and money spent was well worth it. I am pleased to say that Gopher is not interested in retirement yet.

The time had arrived for Gopher and I to return and he began to whimper in excitement as soon as we turned the corner to approach the facility. We came in and logged in at the office passing the fireplace room on the way. I was disappointed to see that Steve and his mom were not waiting for us. We logged in and went to the fireplace room and took our typical positions. Kids and families started arriving and playing with and petting Gopher, before I knew it nearly twenty minutes had passed and I was concerned we had not seen Steve, when his mother arrived carrying a milk bone. She came right over to me giving Gopher a pat on the head.

“Steve isn’t feeling well today.” she reported to me.

“Sorry to hear that” was my response, keeping a close eye on the crowd of kids that were now surrounding Gopher.

“He has not stopped talking about Gopher since your last visit. He has created all these stories of things they were going to do today. Then last night he started feeling really bad, a side effect of his treatment. He told me this morning that he had to feel better soon ‘cause Gopher was coming to see him. When the time came for your visit he was upset and said he didn’t think he could go, he asked me to bring down this treat and give it to Gopher and tell him he was sorry. May I give him the treat?”

“Sure Gopher can have the treat, tell Steve thank you and that Gopher loves treats, and hopes he can see him next time.”

She knelt down gave Gopher the treat and a hug as well and whispered a “Thank you” into his ear and left. Gopher and I continued the visit and when it was time to leave we left, no less emotional than the last visit. This is truly why I chose to do therapy work, there is no pay it takes time out of your day, but rewards like this make all the difference.

by: Randy Schilling

We had lost our beloved Yellow Lab Nala to old age. Our Black lab Savannah was 1-1/2 years at the time. Savannah always looked to Nala as her mother and Nala accepted this from day one. Nala adored Savannah and loved her as if she was her own. When Nala passed, Savannah went into a tailspin. She was not eating, became lethargic, and was obviously mourning Nala. We became worried that we were losing Savannah also! 

I took Savannah to the vet to make sure nothing physically was wrong. The vet agreed that she was taking Nala's passing very hard. When I came out of the exam room, the girls in the office were standing waiting for me. They handed me an index card with a name and phone number on it and told me the story of a sweet golden who's parents were going through a nasty divorce and could not keep this sweet boy.

We called the number on the card and arranged a meeting with Casey's mom. She explained that all she wanted was for Casey to have a loving home. Casey tried to approach Savannah but she gave him the cold shoulder. As for Casey and I, we hit it off from the get-go and he never left that day. Eventually Savannah gave in to this sweet boy and being he was younger, became his new mom. With new purpose in life Savannah recovered and is now a healthy 8 year old. As for Casey, he is a 70 lb. lap dog who loves his family and new life.

Recently we rescued an older pug who goes by the name of Rock. Rock does not see well and Casey immediately became Rock's seeing eye dog. They are to this day inseparable and are seldom apart. We call them the odd couple and Savannah mothers the two of them. So in a sense this beautiful golden boy has rescued two dogs plus himself. If ever there was a golden that belongs in this project it is Casey!

by: Melissa McCamon

Shortly after we bought our first home, my workaholic husband decided that we needed to get a dog. Not just any dog of course, but a Golden Retriever. I did not want to get a puppy because we did not have the time to teach a new dog old tricks and because I do not believe in the reasons that people normally pick puppies. I wanted to adopt a dog.

We looked on the websites looking for a Golden Retriever and there was Quincy. He was a year and a half old and he was handsome, well mannered-ISH, and house trained! At this time, I did not have my heart set on getting a dog at all. His ad had been posted for only 45 mins! We decided to take the drive out to see him. Not settled that we were getting him at all, just to see him. We got there are Quincy was tied outside by himself :(. We almost instantly fell in love with him (after he showed us a few tricks, like high-five, my husband was completely hooked). We did not take him however, because I am in no way impulsive and any dog owner knows that a dog takes A LOT of work and patience.

By the time we got back home we had pretty much made up our mind. Quincy was OURS and we would do whatever it takes to have him forever. So we made the trek back out to get him. We took him home and as soon as he made his first step into the house, he ran upstairs and under our spare room bed snatched the one and only tennis ball we had (Left by guests who had stayed a few weeks ago with their two dogs).

Now Quincy is my best friend. He gives the best snuggles of anyone in the whole world. He is the biggest sook ever. I mean ever! My husband travels a lot for work and so having Quincy has been the best companionship for me. We took him to obedience classes and learned that Quincy does not like to be on a leash and he was the best behaved dog in the class as long as he wasn't on the leash. Even if he is as long as I am tall and pretty much as heavy as me and even though, if he has his heart set on meeting the nearest neighbours cat he can knock me over (this has happened, on more than one occasion even with obedience classes). We even had an encounter with a skunk in the middle of a rainy night!

My Quincy can always bring a smile to my face. He is the funniest creature I have ever known even though he can't really talk back. There is nothing in the world I wouldn't do for my dog!

by: Ali Hughes

I like to think that Bailey found us, instead of the other way around. I adopted her from a co-worker who had too many dogs. It was my intention to gift her to my mother who had recently lost her first dog to old age. Bailey had other things in mind. She entered our home cautiously and politely. I had never seen a dog who looked for approval before going up on the furniture. It was like she could talk with her eyes! Those darling brown soulful eyes. She was timid in all behavior, but curious to trust us. My husband offered her a gentle hand and she accepted. This was the beginning of her new wonderful life.

Bailey is now eight years young. Graying mostly around the eyes like bifocals on a Grandmother. She travels with us everywhere. She has helped pull us from dark times, always lending a therapist's ear. We comfort her in thunderstorms, offering a safe hideout under the covers. We swim and fish and explore together. She wins over the hearts of strangers and kisses their children. She smiles when we come home from work and sings a song of joy. Bailey is my best friend.

by: Margherite Martell- DeSanto

2007 was a pretty bad year for me. Loneliness and disability were sinking me lower and lower. Laughter was a thing of the past, and my bed was my constant companion. One day, I answered a knock on my back door and my daughter's friend, Eugenia, came in followed by a little Golden in very sad shape. Love at first site is not just an expression. It was real and immediate.

Eugenia had been working at a veterinary clinic in Queens, New York. The owner of a pet store had brought this three month old Golden in with a broken leg which he said had been broken "in her cage." Not willing to pay for surgery, the store owner opted for a splint. He said he would care for her. A few months later, he brought her back to the clinic with an infection in her side that was down to the bone. They had to throw the gauze away outside of the building because it smelled so hideous. Of course, they kept her and took excellent care of her wound (by that time her leg had healed in a slightly crooked way, but needed no surgery). 

At that time, Eugenia brought the Golden to her house for a weekend. She and my daughter, Jessica, got together and conspired to bring the Golden to meet me. For a few years prior to this, I had been saying that I would love to have a Golden Retriever some day. Well, I adopted this wonderful, beautiful, loving dog who I named Zoe. She has changed my life in many ways, all for the better. She seems almost human in her perception of me and in her incredible intelligence.

Zoe is my heart.

by: Stephanie Hunter

I always knew when the time was right that I would have a dog, not just any dog, but a Golden Retriever.  Not the “family” dog, but my very own.  Working during the day and living in an apartment was definitely not conducive to getting a puppy!

In the spring of 2001, my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and she decided if I wanted a puppy, this was the time.  She could look after the puppy during the day and it would give her another focus other than what she would be dealing with.  With much thought, I contacted a breeder near our family cottage.  I met with her and after a 6 page questionnaire and an hour and a half meeting, she agreed I could have a puppy.  I saw Gracie when she was 4 days old and I could not have been happier.  The entire family convoyed to see Gracie every couple of weeks just to check on her.  I think we were driving the breeder nuts.

The day came to pick her up and my world changed completely.  She was an anomaly of a puppy.  She never destroyed the house, never chewed anything that wasn’t hers and was so well behaved everywhere she went.  She was the perfect puppy!  Except, for a small love of mud!

From day one, we had a bond. It was the two of us against the world and nothing could or would stop us.

Gracie and her grandma also have a very special connection (you mention the word grandma and she goes nutty).  Mom got Gracie thru puppyhood and Gracie got her thru cancer.  To this day, the love they have for one another warms your heart.

The arrival of Gracie made me buy a house….our house.  She helped plant the garden (well more like pulling out stumps and digging new holes), and guard our new home.  She was so proud to protect her yard.

My love for Gracie is immense! She shows love like no other. She is my angel, my world, my life.  When my husband and I initially got together, I told him that if Gracie didn’t like him, he was out!  I think this shocked him but once they bonded, he too understood. 

Gracie quickly took to my husband and her love for him is even more immense than I could have imagined.  I know she loves me but she will do absolutely anything for her daddy.  At first, I will admit, I was hurt.  I was there for it all, the being sick, the shots, the thunder storms, the midnight pee’s, the first swim and here was this guy that just walked in and she fell in love with him instantly!  Now, I see it as heartwarming and very sweet. 

After several years, we decided that we should get Gracie a companion.  We went back to the same breeder, thinking that Gracie was such an awesome dog that how could we go wrong?  The breeder happened to have a litter of puppies that was fathered by Gracie’s dad.  What could be better – half sisters?  And so the story of Madison begins.

Have you ever seen that movie “Marley and Me?”  I swear Madison could be a stunt double for Marley.  From get go, she was a handful - from eating carpets, to sitting in the dishwasher to pre-rinse dishes, to eating three feet off of the Christmas tree, to dragging you down the street while you were trying to have a nice leisurely walk.  When people describe Madison, they say “she is a handful” or “my, she is busy”.  

But come 8:30 at night, she is the queen of cuddling and turns into the biggest baby you have ever seen.  And cuddling must be with mommy, daddy just won’t do.  And with it all, I wouldn’t have her any other way.

Gracie and Madison are the bestest buddies.  They mimic one another and it is pretty uncanny how close/similar they really are.  I think they have more of a love for one another than any of us could possibly understand.

Our love for them is immense and I cannot imagine our world without them. They provide the greatest unconditional love, happiness and laughter that I could not ask for any more from either of them. They are our children, our family, our lives, our loves. 

by: Judy Blanton

Travis has been with me and my family now for almost 13 years. His face is now white, his hearing is almost gone and he sleeps a lot more, but he still greets me at the door everyday when I get home from work. I am dealing with the issue that I may soon have to make a very hard decision for him but I will wait until he shows me he is ready to go. He is the first Golden in my life and I absolutely love the breed. He has always been a sweetheart and I will miss him terribly when it is his time, but I know all dogs go to Heaven, and I have no doubt he will be waiting there to greet me.

The English Bulldog with him is our 9 month old pup, Miley. She adores Travis. She "adopted" him and watches over him all the time. 

I got Travis in February 1997 as a 3 month old. He was a little shy but he came around. We would crate him as a puppy when we went to work, for his own safety. He quickly learned how to release the door catch on the crate. We would come home to find the house decorated with laundry and various other things, but he would be in the crate with the door shut, but not latched. I used to ask "Travis, how did all this happen?" and he would have a look like "I have no clue, I've been in here all day."

He loves tennis balls and knows when you pop the top on fresh can of Wilson's. He loves the water and he used to swim in his younger days. Baths are no problem and although he needs a little help getting in the bathtub now, he loves a bath. Once he rolled in a freshly poured cement pad. He also liked getting in our small fish pond in the back yard. He is the only dog I know that enjoys seeing the vet. He used to drag me in there. They nicknamed him Silly Boy. He has been a joy to me and he still "smiles" a lot. He has his 13th birthday coming up on November 2, 2010. We'll have special dog cookies and Frosty Paws.  

by: Jodi Link for Miss Chestnut Mae

They say a dog is man’s best friend. I guess they’re right.  There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for my humans, especially my Mom.  If anyone in my house gets pampered, it’s me.  My life has been blessed, and I’ve always felt loved, but Mommy hit the nail on the head when she took me to see my angel.

I was born February 12, 1993 near a place they call Harrisonburg, Va.  I had lots of brothers and sisters to play with, but when we were about twelve weeks old, humans started coming and taking us away, one by one.  I didn’t really understand why until the day MY humans came.  A very nice lady and her daughter came to see us.  My brothers were so into biting each other’s ears that they didn’t really pay much attention.  I was curious though. I’d seen humans before, no big deal right, but they seemed so nice, and I just had to know more.  

They say that curiosity killed the cat, but mine got me a ride home with the bestest family any puppy could ask for!  Before I knew it, I was ridin’ shot-gun in the girl’s lap on the way to my new home.  I was nervous, scared and happy all at the same time, and one thing’s for sure, that riding in a car thing is definitely not for me!

We got to my new house that evening, and boy was it scary!  There was so much to see and even more to smell, I didn’t know what to do first.  I was exploring the yard when a man came out of the house.  He didn’t seem very happy to see me.  He told my lady human and her daughter that he wasn’t ready for another dog yet.  I didn’t understand what that meant either, but by the looks on their faces, it couldn’t have been good.  I guess he changed his mind though, ‘cause he was really nice to me, and we played a lot.  I got to go in the house and meet my family’s cat Tom, but he didn’t seem to like me much.  I guess he thought I’d hurt him, or take away his toys, but he didn’t have to worry I had brothers and sisters.  I was taught to share.

I was named after my birth mother, Wild Mountain Chestnut.  I was named Miss Chestnut Mae, but they call me Chessie.  I’m a Golden Retriever.  I don’t know what a chestnut looks like, but they say that’s what color I am.

The next day (oh yay) they made me ride in the car again.  The trip was longer this time.  I got to meet my very first doctor, Jeff Nester.  He was very kind to me, and gentle, but then he gave me shots.  If you’ve never had one, shots HURT!  Jeff told my humans that they should take me back and get another puppy, that I was born with a really bad hip disease, and surgery to fix me would be very expensive.  My Mom told him that he was crazy, that they were already in love with me, and there was no way they were giving me up.  I knew then just how much my family loved me, and I was more than happy to be going back home with them.

A few days later, I had my first encounter with water.  I mean, yea, I’ve had water before, drink it all the time, but this was like water I’ve never seen before. My Mom, Dad and Sissy were dragging this big green blanket around.  I could tell something was under it, but I didn’t see it right away.  Whey they got the blanket moved they had uncovered the biggest bowl of water I’ve ever seen.  Once again I was curious; I got a little too close to the edge and fell in.  If it hadn’t been for my humans, curiosity would have killed the puppy.

The first few days in my new home were very overwhelming, but it didn’t take long for me to adjust.  Mom, Dad and Sissy were gone most of the day though and I was left with Tom, all by myself.  After he realized that I wouldn’t hurt him or take his toys, we became great friends.

One day they came home and left again.  I decided to explore the house.  I found my way up these really steep soft blocks and discovered Sissy’s room. She had so many toys!  They all smelled so good, especially the white dog with the red hat.  I didn’t think Sissy would mind sharing so I grabbed him and just started chewing.  The hard white stuff across his tummy felt really good on my teeth, but when I started chewing his insides, it made me feel horrible!  I started coughing, and black stuff came out of my mouth.  After that happened, I felt a little better, but I had to find something to get rid of that awful taste.  I decided not to try to share Sissy’s toys anymore.  I found my way back down the soft blocks to the room where I had come from.  I saw some white bears up on the table that looked pretty good, so I grabbed one and took a bite.  They felt really good on my teeth too!  Mom, Dad and Sissy finally came back but when they saw the remains of the bears and Sissy saw the black stuff on her floor, they weren’t very happy with me. 

My curiosity that day got me enrolled in Obedience School.

Once again, I had to ride in the car. We had to go every few days to a big brick building.  The blocks there weren’t as soft as the ones at my house, but I made it up them ok.  There was a big room with lots of other puppies, and their humans.  Mom and Sissy went with me, and brought a bag of little squares.  They were so good!  After I learned how to sit, shake hands, roll over, heel, and stay, I didn’t have school anymore.  I passed everything but that walking on a leash thing.  It was fun learning, and I loved being there with the other puppies.

When I was about nine months old, Dr. Nester’s diagnosis proved to be true.  I started having sharp pains in my hip area.  It was obvious that Mom never got the hint that I hate being in the car.  We had to go for a really long ride far away from home.  We stayed in a hotel, but I still got to sleep with Mommy just like at home.  Her and Sissy took me for rides up and down in a big tall box (I think it’s called an elevator) so I could go potty.  I didn’t like that much either.  The next morning, I got to go meet Dr. Siemering.  He’s the veterinarian who performed the surgery that was supposed to help fix my hips.  I had to stay in the hospital all night.  The next morning, Mommy and Sissy came to pick me up.  Dr. Siemering explained to my Mom and Sissy that my surgery was called “double femoral head ostectomy.”  They had removed the ball portion of my hip joints, and smoothed my bones so I could walk better.  He said that I was recovering well; I was already up walking, and when I saw my family, I just had to wag my tail.  I felt weird, but the pain was gone.  Dr. Simering said I would walk funny for the rest of my life, but I really didn’t care.  I could run and play with Tom Tom, because I had grown to love him a lot.  I was so happy to see him when I finally got home.

I lived a pretty normal, pain free life after that, until a few years ago.  I started having problems with my balance, due to a large growth on my back leg.  
Dr. Nester had gone to live in heaven and Mommy had trouble finding me another good doctor to take his place.  She took me to see one after another until one of them told her that if they didn’t remove the growth on my leg, it would give me more serious problems.

Oh  yay, another ride in the car, and far from home.  It was getting old if you ask me.  We took a trip to Blacksburg, VA to Virginia Tech, where I had another surgery to remove the growth on my leg.  They called it a lipoma.  It weighed 7lbs.8oz.  I don’t know what that means, but my leg felt a lot lighter after it was gone.  The doctors at Virginia Tech told my family that I had neurological damage to my back legs, which would also cause problems.  They were right.  I got so I couldn’t get up as easily as I used to, and walking became very difficult.  My paws started knuckling, and I started falling.  My muscles were very weak.

Once again, my Mom was on the hunt for another good doctor.  This time, she hit the jackpot.  She found Dr. Stacy Reeder.  The first time I ever met Dr. Reeder, I knew right away that she would help me.  It was so nice to finally have a lady doctor.  She was so pretty, and her smile was so warm and welcoming.  

I got to visit Dr. Reeder every week.  Dr. Reeder started my therapy by lifting me up while her assistant Pam rolled a big blue ball under my tummy.  Boy did that feel weird!  She rolled me around on top of the ball to stretch my legs and help strengthen my muscles.

If I would have known what was next, I would have been exercising more at home.  They made me climb a steep, wooden ramp that led to guess what.  A pool.  (Oh yay.)

Dr. Reeder and Pam put me in the water, and held me while I swam.  It kinda scared me a first; it brought back memories of that first water encounter I told you about earlier.  It didn’t take long for my fear to subside, because Dr. Reeder held me close to her, and I could feel love radiating from her heart.  I felt safe with her.  After awhile I liked being in the water (I’d never tell them that) but I was always happy to see Pam put on her trash bag.  That meant she was lowering the gate, and I was getting out!

After my pool therapy, Dr. Reeder would let me lay down and rest, while she stretched out and massaged my legs and back.  Ooooh, that was soooo relaxing.  All I wanted to do was sleep.  After my massages, Pam would attack me with the hair dryer and then I got to go home.

My therapy with Dr. Reeder has made me feel so much better, but lately, getting in the pool has made me very tired.  She took pity, and hasn’t made me swim anymore. Instead, she has spent more time massaging my back and legs, and for some reason, she’s been pulling my tail.  I find that very strange, but I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.

In place of pool therapy, she has been using some cold gooey stuff that she puts on round electric pads that attach to my hips.  Then she pushes buttons on a little white box, and it sends vibrations to my muscles to relax them.  That makes me feel all funny inside.

I always like to go to therapy, because Dr. Reeder is always so kind, and if something makes me uncomfortable, she changes it, or does something different to make me feel better.  When it comes to her, my therapy is all about ME, and MY needs.  I could never ask for a better doctor.

About a month ago, we found out that Dr. Reeder is moving to Maryland.  I think that is a long way from here.  My Mom is very sad.  I know that she is going to miss Dr. Reeder very much.  I’m going to miss her too.  What am I going to do?  I love her so very much and I would do anything for her.  I wish I could make her stay here, so I could still see her every week.  I know that my Mom would take to where she is going, but I don’t think I could stand such a long ride.  I’m sure you know by now that I hate riding in the car.

Mommy and I will always be thankful for Dr. Reeder.  I don’t think we will ever find another doctor that we’ll both like and one who will love me the way she does.

I’ve always believed in angels, and I believe that Dr. Reeder is one, and that God sent her to me in human form to ease my pain and make my senior years happy for my family and me.

This morning (May 31, 2007) I crossed the Rainbow Bridge to join my feline friend, Tom and the others there.  It is so beautiful here, the light is so bright, the flowers are in bloom, the trees are green, butterflies and birds are everywhere, and  love is all around.  I don’t hurt anymore and I can run and play like before!  I did have a really rough night last night because something was very wrong inside of me.  My family stayed up with me all night, letting me know how much they love me. Finally, this morning, my Angel doctor sent another doctor (because it would take her a long time to get here) to my house and she gave me an injection which took away all my pain.  My Mommy and Daddy and Sissy were with me, surrounding me with their love but I know they were hurting.  My Mommy cries a lot because she misses me so much even though she knows I’m with God and some very special friends now.  I hope she will feel better soon and remember the good times.  I’m still with her because she and I are ONE and we will always be together.  All she has to do is look at the brightest star in the sky and she’ll know I’m t here.  I miss my family a lot and I’ll be waiting for them in this beautiful love-filled land on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.  

by: Anna Schneider

My first golden, Jamie born in 1988 was perfect in every way (except that she loved to dig in the yard). She was sweet, smart, calm & confident. Even her digging inspired me to master the art of gardening. She was a loyal & loving companion. She developed lymphoma when she was 9 1/2, went through chemotherapy but she did not do well. We gave her rest in March 1998.

Then came Jasmine. I researched pedigree after pedigree, interviewed 12 breeders, read volumes about bloodlines. I finally found who I thought would be the perfect puppy. Well, she was the perfect puppy until we brought her home. She was mouthy, bossy, smart, fast, clever and believed it was all about her all the time. She was always one step ahead of us in everything, difficult to train, challenging to live with. She noticed everything: a bug on the ceiling, new curtains in the windows of the house next door, a light bulb that had burned out. She became noise and thunderstorm phobic but I worked with her for years to help her cope with these issues. She did well. She loved attention, loved to steal things, she gave us a run for our money. But she was the best dog, the best friend I ever had. She lived ten years and died very suddenly of a brain tumor. She was a gift in my life, taught me more than anyone I've ever known. She is gone two years and I still miss her every day. Death ends a life but not a relationship. I love you, Jas.