In Loving Memory Of Special Pets

Pets with

  Dedicated to diabetic pets who have crossed The Rainbow Bridge.
  Their spirit, and the love they shared will always be remembered.



Missie,  in July of 1988 we brought you home, a tiny, six-week old bundle of fur. We had actually chosen you from among your littermates when you were ten days old. Over the next few weeks we made several trips "up the hill" forty minutes away to visit you as you grew older, and strong enough to leave your mother. During one of these trips we brought a baby blanket that was placed in your bed with you, your mother Heidi, your two brothers and your sister. We knew that their scent on the blanket would comfort you on the day we would take you home with us.

Finally we brought you home. You followed me everywhere I went which you continued to do all of your life - even when you were old, stiff, tired, and ill, up until even the day you died you were my constant companion.

I remember the morning about a week after you had come to be a part of our family that I was awakened by a little grrrrrrrr! I was sleeping on my stomach and you had climbed up on my back and were attacking one of my hair rollers which still happened to be in my hair. What a sweet sight to wake up to.

When you came to us we had another Miniature Schnauzer named Nikki. You thought of her as your mother. In fact you looked more like her than you did your own mother. Nikki was actually your Auntie Nikki. Nikki's father, Bagel, was your grandfather. You would lay across Nikki's paws and she would lick you on your neck and head. You loved it. I am not sure that Nikki always enjoyed the responsibility. She would sometimes move away and you would follow her and lay across her paws again and she would continue grooming you.

One of my very favorite things about you was the way you responded Missie's companion Chloe to "lovies". Ever since you were a little puppy I would hold you cradled in my arm on your back and rub your tummy. I would stop rubbing and move my hand away, you would wait a few seconds and then very carefully extend your front leg and with the tip of your paw, touch my cheek as if to say "Don't stop, I need more." If I stopped stroking you and left my hand in place you would wrap your front paw over my wrist and press my hand to your body. Sometimes you would place a paw on either side of my arm. You were "holding" my hand on you - a most wonderful thing for a dog to do.

You were about six years old when our Nikki left us. We have had many Miniature Schnauzers over the last thirty years but I have never seen a dog grieve so much for a missing companion. You stopped greeting us when we got home, would not play with us and almost stopped eating. We were so worried that we called our vet and he told us that dogs do grieve and showing the live dog the body of the dead dog helps them understand what happened. Nikki died on a Monday and by Friday we had a new Miniature Schnauzer puppy, Honey. I have also never seen a Schnauzer take so long to accept another puppy into the household. It was a full month before you decided that Honey could stay. You went over to her and lay across those tiny paws waiting to be groomed just like you would do with Nikki. Of course Honey had no idea of what you wanted. You had a look on your face that said "I didn't think it was going to happen; I just hoped it would".

Missy, you were never the alpha dog. Nikki was, and Honey by her nature was, and is, an alpha dog . Honey must be most confused because you were always treated as the alpha - first to be greeted, first to be fed and first out the door. I am sure that it didn't matter to you because you were such a truly gentle little soul.

When you were 11 years old we were visiting our son, Kris at his home in Chula Missie in the garden Vista for the Christmas holidays. We came home one afternoon to find that you had wet near his back door. Ever considerate you chose the tile and not the carpet in his new home. The next day it was the same story. I was worried since you had never wet in the house. Then you began to drink lots and lots of water and had to urinate all the time. I was really worried because I thought you had kidney disease. We went back to Citrus Heights and immediately took you to see Dr. B. I was so relieved that his diagnosis was diabetes and not kidney failure, since diabetes can be managed. You remained at the vet hospital for four days - the longest you had ever been away from us. Finally the call came that you were regulated and that we could come take you home. When we went to pick you up I went into the back of our vet's building and saw you all alone in a large dog run. You were lying against the chain link fencing looking forlornly straight ahead at nothing. I spoke to you. No response. I spoke again and you suddenly recognized me. I have never heard a dog make the sound you did when you realized who was standing there. It was a bugle of joy which seemed to originate from deep inside your body. It was as though you had expected never to see us again. I was afraid you were going to try and dig out under the bottom of the run and hurt yourself. I could not get the door open fast enough.

Ever considerate and wanting to please you were the perfect Missie's companion Honey diabetes patient, always regulated and willing to cooperate in your twice-a-day insulin shots. You would actually trot into the bathroom and "present buns" for your shots. You never complained. You would even potty on command so I could take a urine sample. You lived to please us, and you did, every day of your life.

When you had lived with diabetes for less than a year we took you in to have your teeth cleaned. Dr. B. found a tumor in your mouth and wanted to do a biopsy. The biopsy came back positive for melanoma. You had cancer. Dr. B. told us that not all of the tumor could be removed but that he would remove as much as possible, that the tumor would probably come back and would probably metastasize into your lungs and then you would have about three months left to live. We had the surgery and brought you home. I think that the most amazing thing is that during the next 9 months you went through four tumor surgeries in your mouth and one to have two lymph nodes removed from your neck and still your diabetes remained regulated. You had been raised with loving care. You lived with our love every day and responded to that love always wanting to please us and be praised. You really loved praise, and you were always such a good girl.

You lived with the cancer for a little over nine months never complaining, always faithful, following me from room to room no matter how you felt. It was summertime and we were on vacation in San Diego visiting our son Kris. Just two months prior to our trip you had another surgery (number 4) to remove the tumor in your mouth. We had stopped checking your mouth for the tumor's reoccurrence because it would stress you out so much and because it was taking around 3 months for the tumor to reoccur. We had been visiting Kris for a little over two weeks when I noticed that you were not feeling well. You had started bleeding from the mouth. I touched your face and found that the tumor was back and it was large. We cut our vacation short and took you home to see Dr. B. I really expected him to say that he could not operate again. I was wrong, Dr. B. checked you over and told us that you were in great shape. I think Dr. B. was amazed at what you had been through and yet your diabetes remained stabilized.

It was during this visit that he told us that if he were to die and come back as a dog he would like to come back as our dog. What a nice complement. You had surgery number 5 and came home with us. About three days passed and I couldn't believe the change, you were more like your old self before the cancer surgeries started. You barked at us if we took too long while fixing your dinner and you would even "sit up pretty" for your dinner. You were really feeling more like your old self. Little did we realize what was just around the corner. Just a little over two and a half weeks passed and you changed, you were not interested in food. I felt your cheek then I took you into the bathroom and took a look. The tumor was back and it was big. I knew now what had to be done and I cried all night. On that Monday we took you to see Dr. B. for the last time. One of his assistants held you gently while Jesse and I stood in front of you so you could see us. I talked to you but knew that you probably couldn't hear me because you were going deaf and that's why I extended my hand and placed it right under your nose - so you could smell me. I looked into your beautiful trusting brown eyes. You were lowered to the table and Dr. T., Dr. B's associate, told us that you were gone. It was hard to believe, you looked just like you were taking a nap, you felt so soft and warm. I didn't want to leave you there because if I did your really being gone would be too final. Finally Jesse said "Come on Helen, it's time for us to go". I closed your eyes with my hand and stroked your head for the last time and left.

I am not a believer in "these types of things" but something Missie on the bed really strange happened the day after your death. I was sitting in my chair in the front room working on my laptop when the smell of perfume filled the air. I smelled it but didn't really take notice, if you can understand what I mean, nor did I look up from what I was doing. The smell got stronger and I suddenly realized that there was nowhere in the room for the smell of perfume to come from. I looked up and saw Honey playing around your front room bed. She would crouch, scoot around, jump, and stare intently at your bed in front of her then repeat the process. Honey did this a number of times and then she stopped and came over to my chair, placed her paw up on the seat of my chair and stared at me for a few seconds then went to the front door and lay down in her usual place facing the door. I think you must have remembered how you grieved for Nikki and that you came to tell Honey that you were in a better place and not to grieve for you. Missie, if it really was you paying us one last visit it worked, since HONEY HAS NOT GRIEVED! She just seems to know that you really are gone and will not return.

You are now at the Bridge playing with Jetty, Kindi, Gus, Daisy, Muffin, Nikki, Katie, Frosty, Pepper, Kristy, Sambo, Scruffy, Teal, and all of the beloved pets who have gone before and are waiting for their special humans at the Bridge.

Dr. B. and all his assistants sent us a card. He is a caring man of not many words and what he wrote was from his heart. It really made me feel good.

He said, "You fought 'the fight' for Missie, no dog could ask for more".

You left this world just as you lived in it 
with grace and a quiet, gentle dignity.

Until I can hold you in my arms again, 
rub your tummy and kiss the top of your head.

Well done my Missie dog.

Well done!


God lent us a puppy to love. 
We loved her all her life 
We sent her back to God 
To tell Him of our love.



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