Peppy Pets
Oct. 13, 2003


Sara's spirit, love and grace lives on in Winnie & Tramp


I've always had dogs, and have been very fortunate with them
all. Almost three years ago, I had a 15 year old Golden
Retriever put down. It was her time, and she was the best
dog a family could ever have had. My son came over to go
with me, and I went down to the den to get my Old Sara for
her last car trip. She wouldn't get up, but then she hadn't
for two days. I went upstairs, in tears, and asked my boy to
carry her to the car. I followed him downstairs, watched her
get up, wag her tail, follow him outside, relieve herself,
walk up the driveway, and get in the back seat. 

We drove to the vet's in silence. I put a leash on her, she
got out, walked up the steps slowly, and in the door. They
put us in a room, a lady came in, explained what was gonna
happen next, and the old girl went with her to get a
catheter. She came back and laid at my feet, and looked up.
The vet came, let me hold her nose and scratch her ear while
she administered the shot. The end came quickly, she sighed,
blew on my left hand, and was gone. I paid the bill in
tears, asked for her remains, and went home. Pacing the
house (my son went back to work, I had taken the day off), I
saw a lady with a white lab, and ran to the kitchen, put her
water bowl, a chew toy, and some treats in a bag and ran to
give them to her. Without a word, but in tears, I went
inside.

Sunday, the kids came over to watch a football game. I
calmly told them I was selling the house (my 25 year old
daughter lived there too). She asked why, and I told her I
only kept the house for Sara, and Sara was gone. She loved
it here.

Move to forty days later. My daughter took me for my second
visit to a local shelter. The first time I went alone, when
they were closed. They brought me four female dogs, after we
had paced the halls for 40 minutes. At the fourth dog, I
started to tear up, and said, "I can't do this again, I
gotta go." I got up, turned to leave, and the door opened. A
lady, with black hair, had a little blonde dog on a leash,
and let the lead fall from her hand. The little 40 pound dog
ran to me, I turned, bent down, and she put her muzzle
between my knees, and started to whine. I looked up at my
daughter, who was smiling and shook my head yes. 

We renamed Mrs. Beazley, Winnie because she still whines.
She's a great dog. The only passing dog she barks at is the
white lab, and only when the lady is walking the dog. Go
figure.

After sixty days, I took Winnie back to the shelter, to
thank the black haired lady for what she did for me that
day. Four steps in, Winnie threw up; guess she thought she
was going back.

Six months after I got Winnie, the kids flew to California
for a wedding, so I took the week off. Wednesday, I took
little Winnie to the shelter to look for a companion. We
walked in, and she didn't throw up. I asked to see three
females, and I thought she was going to kill all three of them.
The black headed lady suggested a male, and I balked. She
said, "Trust me", and how could I not? They brought out
Mocha, and Winnie, wagged, licked his snout, and he sat and
wagged, then he rolled over. Amazing, she picked me, then
she picked him.

These dogs are perfect together; maybe four years apart in
age. He's gotten much bigger, and yet still lets her have
her way here and there. (Oh, and we renamed him Tramp, cause
he's a bum). 

My old girl knew the love this home and this owner was
capable of giving a canine, and she somehow seems to live on
in Winnie. I think my old Sara looked down on me and saw the
void in my life without her, and made me stay that second
time, and make the choice to take her "favorite" home.
Winnie puts her head against my chin like old Sara did, she
look at me funny when I get upset, and she only barks at
that woman. Tramps barks at everything!

Bottom line, my old Sara rescued two dogs who love it here,
love each other, and love the three of us (my son moved
back) who live here still. It's their yard, their house, and
Sara's spirit, love, grace, and demeanor that help make them
the great dogs they are. Her ashes are in my entertainment
center, behind the wine glasses. I will leave half of them
here when I sell the house because she belongs here, in her
back yard, the one she allowed two other dogs to share. 

Are dogs guardian angels? My Sara is a saint, and if there
is a God, and I believe there is, the three of us will spend
eternity, and I'm guessing they will be great pals, and have
a yard they can call their own, for eternity.

Greg


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Oh yes, I've felt my long gone J.R. dog many times when
danger has loomed near. I can't explain how you know, you
just do! 

Scott Sagarsee



I do believe that our pets are in someway our Guardian Angels
sent from above.

I live alone and my pet cat helps me in many ways that I
would of figured was impossible to do on my own. plus makes
coming home something to look forward to cause instead of a
blank house to come to there is always someone there to greet
you and make you feel at home.

Sincerely,
Janna Wiedemann



I believe our pets are always with us and watching over us.
And I also believe there is some communication between our
deceased pets and the living ones we now have.
Susan Violette


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I lost my dog over a year ago, but he was my guardian from
the time I found him in the back yard. He let me know
clearly who to trust and who not to trust. If he had an
instant dislike for a person it wouldn't be long before that
person would show his or her true colors. I don't know how
many times he would stand in front of me to protect me from
these people.

He was just a baby when my husband died. from that time on
he was sure to protect me. when he was found in the back
yard he was infected with parvo and I took him to the vet
and with time and a lot of love he was able to get over it.
he was such a smart dog from the beginning, He never wet in
the house he would always go to the door to be let out, and
you only had to tell him once to do something and he would
remember it the rest of his life. It was if he had been
trained before he came to me but when I found him he was
only six weeks if that (at least that was what the vet
said). He is in my thoughts everyday, and I can feel his
presence everyday.

Stella Hel


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Number one song for 1953 was:
The Doggie In the Window
Sung by: Patti Page



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