Monday, July 26, 2010

Rori by Jennifer O’Connell


I will never forget that sound you make:
Whuffle
For it is ingrained in my heart as the sound of happiness.

You crawled into my lap,
90 pounds of
warm
whuffling
love
with a heartbeat to match -
a reminder of the beauty of life.
We were told you had 3 days
3 days before that heartbeat stopped.
It has been 54
And still counting…
Your life is a miracle,
A testament to the power of love.

There are some things that will never fade
The mark on the wall from
Golden hair against it after a swim
The same golden hair that decorates
Every item of black I own.
A lake in the Adirondacks
A hike in snowy woods in the dead of winter
The expressiveness of your eyebrows
The way your body fits so perfectly
To warm my feet on a frosty morning

But above all,
My heart will keep your
Whuffle
A gentle reminder
To appreciate every
H e a r t b e a t
To render others happy
And to live passionately

This

Miraculous

Life.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Sam by Cindy Eilenberger

















I believe it is best to say that Sam found me. One day when I came home from work, I found Sam in my spare bedroom whimpering from injuries he had received from another dog. Sam, at that time, was not my dog. But, he had found my doggie door and let himself in.

Sam was not a stranger to me. He had roamed my neighborhood for awhile since his true owners had put him out on the streets to survive on his own. Other neighbors and I would feed and water him to keep him going. But, on that particular day he needed help and chose me to be the one to nurse him back to health.

I scooped him up and took him to a vet. He was ripped up pretty bad down his back and hind quarters. One of his ears was ripped, one eye was swollen shut, and he was bloody everywhere. But, he let the vet do what had to be done without a sound. I honestly didn’t think he would survive. I gave him water through a syringe because he was too weak to lift his head. The tough guy made it though and has been my buddy ever since.

I failed to mention that Sam is a Siberian Husky and at the time we lived in Georgia. Not the best climate for this breed. But, fortunately for us, a wonderful man came into our lives and moved us to Connecticut. Sam now had a daddy and found he was in his element in the snow and colder temps. When it snowed we would laugh while Sam made his Sam angels. He will plop down in the snow and twist back and forth in it making his own special formation.

One of Sam's wonderful qualities is his love for everyone. Kids have always been his favorite though. He loves nothing better than a group of kids who want to pet on him and take him for a walk. He'd follow them to the ends of the earth I think. I think kids sense his gentleness too because they seem to be drawn right to him.

In June 2010, Sam was diagnosed with Lymphosarcoma. Because they said that it had spread to his spleen, stomach, and bones we opted to not do extensive treatment. Instead, we are trying to make him comfortable and enjoy the last days we have with him.

I can see him getting weaker and I know his time will come faster than I’ll ever be ready for. Sam is 11 years old and has been such a good boy. I wish I could nurse him back to health the same way I did all those years ago. But this time I will only be able to give him his final rest. He will pass from my arms to God’s where he will no longer have pain and can run like he so much loved to do. I’ve asked God to make sure he has lots of snow too so he can continue to make his Sam angels. I know I’ll see him again one day. Just as Sam found me in the beginning, I have no doubt that he will find me again.