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9/21/98 – 4/18/06
We Have A Secret
We have a secret, you and I
that no one else shall know,
for who but I can see you lie
each night in fire glow?
And who but I can reach my hand
before we go to bed
and feel the living warmth of you
and touch your silken head?
And only I walk woodland paths
and see ahead of me,
your small form racing with the wind
so young again, and free.
And only I can see you swim
in every brook I pass
and when I call, no one but I
can see the bending grass.
- Author Unknown
Missy came into our life when she turned four years of age. She had been rescued and adopted off the track at the age of two. That was when she was spayed and experienced her first seizure. Her owner of two years was moving to California and his wife did not want to take Missy because of her special needs.
As soon as we saw her sweet gentile face and eyes we knew we wanted to take her home and make her part of our family and give her all our love. We loved taking Missy to the meeting of the greyhounds in Dewey, Delaware and Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. She loved people and they were drawn to her beautiful face and eyes. She was so gentile.
It tore at our hearts each time she would seizure. It was so hard to watch this sweet creature go through these awful episodes, especially when they resulted in her being hospitalized. She would just look to us for love and comfort.
She was so amazing to watch run in the yard. Her speed took our breath away. She loved food! When she wanted a treat she let you know with a loud bark. The only time she ever barked was when she wanted to eat. Being on three seizure medicines probably added to that.
In April 2006, when Missy was eight and the addition of a third medication failed to keep her from seizuring over and over again, we knew it was time to let her be at peace. It was not fair to let this sweet girl of ours end up in the hospital again. With us by her side and her sweet face next to mine, we gave her kisses, said good-bye and sent her to be with GOD in Heaven where she could run and play all the time and never have to go through the trauma of seizures again. She is forever in our hearts and in her memory we make a donation in the hopes of helping find cures for all the diseases that effect our beloved canine children.
With Love, Missy’s Mom Mary
"Shana"
June 4, 1988 - January 24, 1997
Shana was my Novice A dog in all dog sports. She introduced me to the wonderful world of Dog Sports. There could not have been a better dog to learn all there was to learn in obedience and agility-she was sooooo forgiving. Shana took me from Novice A to both American and Canadian Obedience Trial Championships. Then we started agility and she loved it. She got her OA and then her life was cut short by bone cancer at 8 ˝ years.
Shana was the most sweet and fun-loving dog. Her tail was in constant motion. When she did therapy work, she just snuggled up with the patients. I miss you sweet girl, you are forever in my heart.
Helen Sherman
"Pote"
1995 - 2007
Dogs are our link to paradise.
--M Kundera
In memory of a great dog and the love between him and Noreen.
Your Friends
""Mike" (also "Bo" (short for Bubula) and "Moose" (short for Momula))
March 18, 1998 - June 9, 2005
As his nicknames suggest, Mike was a love. He was a dear, sweet, kind, gentle, loving soul whose only desire was to love and be loved, to play with squeaky toys and to eat lots of cookies. And ice cream. And hamburgers. And lettuce -- Mike was particularly found of veggies and would poke you if you forgot to share with him while you were making salad.
Mike was our omega dog, who followed his brothers' lead. He was devoted to pack leader Peter, and Pete gave him the confidence to mix it up with the others. Mike loved to start up the wild game and then dive under the bushes for cover while the others wrestled. He seemed a bit lost after Pete died earlier in 2005 and my only comfort is that, once again, Mike is with his Pete.
We tried training Mike in agility, but he could never see the point of jumping over something when, if you only took a step to the side, you could just walk around it, and he certainly wasn't about to get his feet dirty running through a tunnel. Mike did weave poles exactly once in his life - by following a hot dog I held in my hand as I backed through them. He was very pleased with himself and ran right over to mom to show off: "Look, Mom, I did weave poles!" But once was plenty.
also tried to take him to obedience school, but he didn't like it and refused to go. So in a house of agility dogs, Mike happily stayed home with whoever wasn't competing that day and helped Dad to read the paper on the sofa, or joined us and gleefully paraded around the trial with a squeaky toy in his mouth, squealing with delight and showing it off to the dogs in crates (who couldn't take it from him).
Believing that dogs are happiest when they have job to do, I kept looking for something and finally found obedience lessons that Mike loved - with two wonderful, kind women who made all that heeling, staying and coming a fun game. Mike was so proud to go to school with the other guys -- his wagging tail sweeping the dirt on the barn floor during his sits and downs was evidence of how much he liked it. Mike and I had great fun doing his CGC test, even though it took a couple tries to walk past the toy on the floor! Mike was so pleased with himself for earning a big rosette and a medal to wear on his collar.
It is cruelly ironic that Mike was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma on the day he was scheduled to be certified as a therapy dog. We had always known Mike would bring great love to whomever he met but needed to wait until, with maturity, he no longer greeted strangers with quite so much overwhelming joy and enthusiasm. As a younger dog, he was so delighted to greet people that he literally jumped up and roared. And then did the "jello shake" which was hysterically funny if you knew what a love Mike was but could otherwise be a bit intimidating….
Goodbye darling little Bo. The world is very bitter without you.
Susan Palius
a bunch of NADAC titles, lots of legs and so much more we ran out of time for
"Nick"
March 18, 1998 to April 13, 2006
I could write for days about Nick…..my personal therapy dog….my novice A dog in the excellent ring……my never-lost-a-track dog….my co-pilot and turkey-sandwich sharer…..my Novice A and hopefully DWA obedience dog…..my partner…...my darling blond boy. Each of these "titles" has a good story behind it. But the sad story is that Nick died just after his eighth birthday.
Nick survived a small cancerous tumor on his tongue that was removed with a clean margin in October, 2004. Quite frankly I didn't think anything more about until May of 2005, when his littermate Michael died of hemangiosarcoma. Later that summer a half brother, Rudi died, also of hemangio. And I started to learn how many other related dogs had died of hemangio. That's when I realized that unless we were extremely lucky our time together would probably be limited.
From that point forward, Nick and I did every fun thing we could think of…..we had a blast at the 2005 National, we played a lot of agility, we started tracking, began competing in rally and got serious about our obedience training. He helped me test-drive trucks so we could do more traveling and then we hit the road, competing in lots of trials and staying in hotels, where Nick loved to jump from bed to bed as well as share my room service dinners and breakfasts.
One weekend in April, 2006 we competed brilliantly in Masters agility on Friday and Sunday and earned his first rally excellent leg on Saturday with a class win in cold, pouring rain. We worked on our weave poles and our gambling in the backyard Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings and had a blast in our open obedience class Tuesday night. I left work on Wednesday afternoon with "make appointment to certify for tracking" on my To-Do list. But Wednesday night Nick was weak and not himself. We took him to our vet the next morning and an ultrasound provided the horrible diagnosis…..Nick had a hemangiosarcoma tumor growing on his heart. Until it burst Wednesday night it had not caused any symptoms, now it was killing him as it was non-removable and wouldn't respond to chemo.
We brought Nick home and he spent one last night and day with his family and his pack. He died on Friday, in my arms, in his car, which we had bought together to go to fun things in. He had just turned eight.
Nick was owned by my mom, Elizabeth Palius, who was his first agility partner. He was handled to his excellent agility, preferred agility and rally titles by me. And Nick was loved by everyone who met him.
Susan Palius
"Torch"
6/11/2001 - 12/21/2003
Torch was born into my hands and she died in my arms a little over two years later. From birth, she was clearly a special animal. No one was surprised when I decided to keep her since Torch had chosen me weeks before. My education was her life's work and she did it well. Some lessons were very basic to living and working with dogs--trust, patience, humility and humor. She taught me about time--do all you can each day. We had only dabbled in agility and obedience because I was leaving them for the many years that I thought we had ahead of us. But we didn't have the time that I'd assumed would be there. How could I know how wrong I would be?
Torch's health problems started before her second birthday with some bizarre and inexplicable symptoms. It wasn't until early September that we learned the truth--Torch had an incurable, inoperable form of cancer. This is the point that my real education began. Medical options, treatments, research and thinking through alternatives were the start. But that was the easy part. In the end, Torch taught us about dying--how does a dignified, courageous being face death with her head held high, loving those around her and living every single moment fully. She taught me that I could do more than I thought, be braver than I dreamed, and love more deeply than I thought possible. And finally, as my inspiration for Canine Health Events, Torch taught us that one dog, a young one at that, can touch hundreds of people and dogs.
Beloved friend and teacher of Gayle Watkins and Andy Chmar
