We lost Wilmie today. She was probably a 13-14 year old, Dobie mix. She was a beautiful black girl, right up to the end. Her fur was still so shiny and bright it would hurt your eyes if I looked at her in the sun. She loved to lay in the sun.

She was brought to us one day, by Sean. We had just started Whiskers and Paws and he was delivering to Santa Ana and it was raining. He saw some dogs running loose and watched with a catch in his throat, as she was almost hit by a UPS truck. She had a beautiful, athlete’s body and there was no way to catch her. She could run, dodge and weave. Boy, did she run fast. As he was getting his order together, standing by the open door of the van, he felt something on his feet; it was Wilma, flipped onto her belly.

Sean called and said he had a very dirty, black lab-looking dog in his truck and could he bring her home? Pete said, “Sure take her home.” Sean said, “To your home?” We ended up with Wilma. We named her after Wilma Rudolph, gold medal track star. She was a wild girl. A trainer we had in the beginning said, she was likely on her own for a long time. She would bolt any time the gate or garage was open. She would run free. We somehow always caught her and then if she ever got out, she just ran around our cul-de-sac. One day she got out and we found her right by the gate, trying to get back in.

We didn’t have to worry about her running away anymore.

She chased the arrogant squirrel in the backyard, caught birds, “levitated” onto our big boulders to look closely for the squirrel hoping he might make a mistake. She was always very cooperative with any new dogs we adopted along the way. She really was never sick or a bother. Then a about a month ago, we noticed swollen glands and it was determined she had Lymphoma. We elected not to put her through Chemo which might have delayed her passing. She never wanted to be messed with. She didn’t like her toenails to be clipped. She was not able to be bathed at the groomer. We accommodated her uniqueness and removed any irritants from her path. She was always put into a room when the gardener came because she truly couldn’t abide the loud noises of his machines. She really didn’t like bike riders or motorcycles. If she went to the office with Pete, he would always keep her locked up until the visitor was welcomed into the office. Then, she knew it was someone that should be allowed entrance.

On her last day, she was in pain and had begun to limp. However, she wanted to go for a walk around our little cul-de-sac. She wanted to get in the van. As we waited for our turn to visit the doctor, we sat with her in the van, calmly. When it was time to go in we could not get her out of the van. She was determined to remain where she was. I eventually grabbed her leash and she leaped out and we walked to the door of the hospital. As she approached the door she pulled back, out of her collar and ran one last time. The vet tech caught her, not far away and carried her in, calmly. She had her intravenous tube inserted and walked on her own, back to the room where we were waiting. She did it her way. Bye, Wilmie we will miss you.

Annie
We just had to make that terrible decision to put down our beautiful, 12 year old Golden. It is still a fresh wound and so very painful. Everything seems to reference back to a memory of her. She’s no longer lying in the hall. She’s no longer just outside the bedroom door with the slider open so she feels part of the house.

She was a puppy we chose from a breeder. It wasn’t that long ago, but at the time, Specific Breed Rescues were not as advertised as they are today. We had lost our first Golden, Murphy and just couldn’t stand being without a dog that could communicate so well. We still had Jack who was Murphy’s partner and we wanted to get a Female to be with Jack. We chose Annie, not because she was the Female most social or outgoing but because she seemed the one most shy and sweet.

She was a cutie. She went from golden fuzz to a beautiful light, golden caramel color. She was a big girl. She was 75-80 lbs and in great shape. She ate reduced fat food most of her life. We had just started Whiskers and Paws and she was a poster girl. Even though she had a champion pedigree and health clearances, she had to have elbow surgery as a puppy and probably always had some joint pain. She was noise shy and very scared during thunderstorms or when fireworks could be heard. She loved playing with her tennis balls. A new tennis ball was the only thing she would not share. You see she welcomed others into the family. We subsequently adopted Beau, Wilma, Farley and finally Lou. Sean’s dog Sadie, another Golden stayed with us a lot, too. Whenever Sean came over she would herd him into the backyard to play ball as he had the best throw. She didn’t mind sharing her home, her food, her family or even her old tennis balls.

But, just recently we noticed she wasn’t feeling so well. We consulted with two different veterinarians including her original vet who had relocated to West VA. Nothing could explain quite what her health problems meant. I believe she probably had some kind of Cancer that just was not yet defined. When she stopped eating, we knew her time was near. It’s funny, you would think she would look miserable. She didn’t. She still wagged her tail. She still was beautiful, majestic, sorry about making a mess and quietly, gently ready to go. We kissed her, massaged her paws, and she laid her head in our hands. She went out just the way we found her, sweet, gentle and loving. We miss her terribly.

Pete, Sean and Karen Bennett, Whiskers & Paws Catering

My beloved Emilie passed away this morning after a strong and amazing fight against osteosarcoma. When originally diagnosed, we thought we had maybe a few months, if that. Emilie survived to almost 10 months post diagnosis and had a wonderful life and was strong and full of life up until this past week and a half. She kept to her end of the bargain by staying strong until her health failed rapidly and swiftly. A week and a half ago she was running around the living room pouncing on Garrison as we prepared for our trip to Vermont for the National Bouvier Specialty. I'm just sorry she wasn't strong enough to make the tirp with us and enjoy the scenery and be around so many Bouviers - something she has loved ever since we became active members of the SoCal Bouvier club.

Dr. Fuchino asked for me to bring Garrison in to sniff her and allow him the opportunity to recognize that she was no longer with us. After a few sniffs, Garrison wanted to leave the room and go back to the car. It is a sad and melancholy day, but ultimately one of rejoicing and celebrating a life well lived and well loved for 11 years.

Her sweet face, warm tongue, joy of chasing shadows, squirrels, cats, and horses and her TV watching antics will be greatly missed.

She is now on the most incredible journey filled with life and love and endless music of the spheres and will live forever in our hearts.

Pilar Kuhn

We just lost one of our beloved pets.  Farley was a fifteen year old Golden Retriever that we had adopted when her former owner’s wife decided she didn’t want her anymore.  We picked her up at the kennel where she had been left until someone might want to adopt a ten year old dog.  She was glad to meet us and we scooped her up and introduced her to our group. She joined three other dogs.

She was arthritic and had a tail with missing fur.  Her coat wasn’t shiny and she was very quick to move if we got close to her.  In fact she even snapped at us if we surprised her as she was lying down.  We soon figured out that she must have been pushed or shoved to get out of the way. She learned we weren’t going to hurt her. She had been raised by a man who loved her and she also had been very close to another Golden who lived in the house and was also given away.  The man had died.

Farley never asked for much.  She was content to lie between us when we ate our meals.  She followed my husband and plopped herself down by him.  He started taking her to work with him everyday and she loved that.  She also loved her food and her treats and our male dog, Beau.  Her tail eventually filled in and her coat grew thick and shiny.  She loved to go to the groomer and come home with a pretty bow.  She didn’t see very well and her hearing was gone. Somehow she knew when it was time to eat, though.  She either followed the other dogs or smelled the food being added to her dish.

We knew it was time when she couldn’t eat anymore.  She tried and she didn’t want to miss going to work, either.  She made it till the end of the week.  She put in a full day.  She earned her keep.  The next day we took her to the dog hospital and she died quietly, just like she did everything else.  No muss no fuss. She was cremated and we will pick up her ashes later this week.

We miss her and we are glad we were able to share the end of her life.  Older dogs make good pets.  They are over the puppy craziness, they are potty trained, they are smart and may know tricks, they can walk on a leash, and they can sit and stay.  They don’t eat sticks and rubber toys and get sick.

Pete, Sean and Karen Bennett, Whiskers & Paws Catering