A good dog never dies
she always stays
she walks beside you
on crisp autumn days
when frost is on the fields
and winter's drawing near
her head is within our hand
in her old way.

-- Mary Carolyn Davies

Donations have been made to
Airedale Rescue in memory of . . .

. . . JENNY, missed by Becky Corley, Dave Barrett & The Barrett Pack. Dave writes:

Jenny, a rescue 'dale, went on to The Rainbow Bridge today, October 23, 2001. Her health had been on the decline for some time but she weakened markedly the last two days. Jenny left peacefully and she did not suffer. She would have been 13 years old in January.

Jenny can be seen on these pages:

Jenny's Story
Jenny as part of the Barrett Pack

The Barrett Farm SAR team.
l to r:
Cinnamon, Jenny, Katie,
Barnaby, Boomer, & Stevie

What do we do when our loving pets face the last leg of the race? We do all we can to help them finish well, of course. We take time to read the unspoken needs of the friends we've come to know so well.

We give the simple reassurance of a loving touch when the old girl seems confused for no reason.

We groom them faithfully, but more gently, as age brings muscle wasting, and the arthritic bones aren't so well padded.

We learn to slow down for their sake, as they enjoy the scent of the wind, or track a visitors trail across their yard.

We expect to be inconvenienced, and aren't angry when it happens.

We watch for pain and treat it, watch for changes in vision and hearing and do what we can to help preserve those precious senses for as long as possible.

We take care of their teeth, and make sure their food is a manageable texture for them.

We remind them of the need for a potty walk when they seem to forget.

We remember the little rewards. We scratch the graying ears and tummy, and go for car rides together. When the pet we love has an unexplained need for comfort, we give it freely. When infirmities bring a sense of vulnerability, we become our old guardian's protector.

We watch their deepest slumbers, when dreams take them running across long-forgotten fields, and we remember those fields, too. When they cannot stand alone, we lift them. When their steps are uncertain, we steady them.

And if their health fails, it falls to us to make the choice that will gently put them to rest. But until that is absolutely necessary, we pause to let the autumn sun warm our old friend's bones. And we realize, autumn is not a bad time of year at all.

Old age is not a disease or a reason to give up. It is a stage of life that brings its own changes. Autumn can be a beautiful time of harvest.

And, sometimes, the harvest is love.

-- Christy Caballero, Autumn

. . . DUKE, January 1, 1991-July 13, 2001, strongly missed by Rita Ferrer, who writes:

Duke came to our family as an ATRA foster boy just two years ago. He had come to stay. He loved us all . . . people, dogs, and kitties. He had a great sniffer and everything I brought into the house was inspected thoroughly. He was always so curious that I couldn't open a drawer, door or try to pick up something off the floor without his face in my way.

Duke was all terrier, too. When he wanted something from me, he would find the nearest wastebasket and give it a BIGPAWSLAP with papers scattering and look up at me to say 'Do what I want NOW' . . . He regularly raided the dirty clothes hamper and dragged underwear around the house. He moved me along faster with expert NOSEPOKES.

Now he and his favorite girl, Sadie, are together again. I will miss his sweet kisses and his Airedale antics very much. I'm sure he's happily kissing his Sadie and they are playing biteyface.

So this is where we part, My Friend,
and you'll run on, around the bend,
gone from sight, but not from mind,
new pleasures there you'll surely find.

I will go on, I'll find the strength,
life measures quality, not its length.
One long embrace before you leave,
share one last look, before I grieve.

There are others, that much is true,
but they be they, and they aren't you.
And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,
will remember well all you've taught.

Your place I'll hold, you will be missed,
the fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.
And as you journey to your final rest,
take with you this . . . I loved you best.

-- Jim Willis, I Loved You Best
Copyright 2001; used with permission

. . . CASEY, SIDNEY, TYLER & KELSIE, greatly missed by Ruth Ellen Hill, who writes:

. . . my last sweet girl who crossed September of 2000. Of course, they were all precious in their own individual ways.

The Eskimos have a touching explanation for the bright northern lights, visible in their part of the world, the aurora borealis. They believe that the lights are tears shed by dogs carrying souls to heaven.

-- Melissa Miller, The Dog I.Q. Test

. . . MOLLY, who crossed The Rainbow Bridge on November 30, 2001 and is sadly missed by Karen Morgan.

The misery of keeping a dog is her dying so soon; but to be sure if she lived for fifty years, and then died, what would become of me?

-- Sir Walter Scott

. . . SKIPPY, who crossed The Rainbow Bridge on January 2, 2002 and is sadly missed by Ellen Karp, who writes:

Skip . . . thanks for being there, for being my companion, my protector, my friend. Thanks for keeping me company thru the good times & being a warm fuzzy to cry on thru the hard. I am sure I never would have left NY without having you by my side. I hope you are in a far better place my friend, being young again, running free & being able to once again see all that the cataracts robbed you of here on Earth. I will always miss you.

. . . CLARA, who is sadly missed by Chuck Booher.

Of all the dogs arrayed in fur,
Hereunder lies the truest cur.
He knew no trickes, he never flattered
Nor those he fawned upon bespattered.

-- Jonathan Swift

. . . LILLIE, who crossed The Rainbow Bridge on December 20, 2001 and is sadly missed by Gabrielle Ricaux, who writes:

To my beautiful big girl - you may be gone from my side but not from my heart.

GO TO
AIREDALES IN MEMORIAM, PAGE 10