A Parting Prayer

Dear Lord, please open your gates
and call St. Francis
to come escort this beloved companion
across the Rainbow Bridge.

Assign her to a place of honor,
for she has been a faithful servant
and has always done her best to please me.

Bless the hands that send her to you,
for they are doing so in love and compassion,
freeing her from pain and suffering.

Grant me the strength not to dwell on my loss.
Help me remember the details of her life
with the love she has shown me.
And grant me the courage to honor her
by sharing those memories with others.

Let her remember me as well
and let her know that I will always love her.
And when it's my time to pass over into your paradise,
please allow her to accompany those
who will bring me home.

Thank you, Lord,
for the gift of her companionship
and for the time we've had together.

And thank you, Lord,
for granting me the strength
to give her to you now.

Amen.

- © Brandy Duckworth, 1998

Lacy
1990-1999

She was a thirteen pound West Highland Terrier who came into our lives 9 years ago. I still remember her perched in the cardboard box on our friend's driveway as we debated which puppy we should pick. We toyed at first with trying to figure out a name for her. But that decision was quickly made by our, then 7 year old, youngest daughter after the frisky puppy playfully untied her shoelaces. We settled on the name Lacy.

Lacy quietly spent weekdays in the house alone, anxiously awaiting the return of her human friends. When Annie or I arrived home from work at night, Lacy was always at the back door, treating each encounter as if she had met us for the first time. While the departure of our oldest daughter to college and her younger sister's ever-increasing school and work schedules had somewhat limited Lacy's daily human contact, she accepted the loss as all loyal dogs do. And it in no way diminished the daily love she showed us each and every day as she trotted playfully at our feet. If there was ever an example of a dog who loved human companionship, Lacy would get my vote as its true definition.

Over the past 9 years, she had developed some insane habits that, at times, would drive us crazy. While sometimes they could create irritating distractions, it was nevertheless funny to watch her viciously attack the Hoover upright, tearing holes in the paper vacuum bag. And while the replacement of the Hoover with a more up-to-date (and durable) model prevented continuing damage, she was no less guarded in her protection of our home from the evil Vacuum God. Later on, she also developed a propensity to bark at and bite the tip of the ironing board whenever it was retracted and put away. And whenever a baby cried on television, she would emit a faint low bark as long as the crying continued. My guess is that it was her way of telling the baby she was there and that everything was okay. It's sad now to think that when David Letterman's staff was in town last week to make their selection of "local talent" for the show's "Stupid Pet Tricks" segments, I actually thought it would have been fun to carry her, along with the ironing board, to the audition.

Last night, while Lacy was taking care of her business in the back yard after we had returned from work, Annie noticed that our little friend was not at the back door, barking her short but quiet demands to be let in. I had also noticed her absence but neither of us gave it any particular attention, assuming our dog was doing what was expected of her. As I was routinely unpacking the groceries I had just brought in the door, I heard Annie call for her. My heart stopped when my wife returned into the kitchen, grief anguishing her face. Lacy lay on her side in the backyard under the oak tree, as if asleep. I haltingly moved towards her, hoping against hope that she would jump up again and that everything would be alright. It wasn't. Her little furry body was still warm. Lacy had quietly departed our lives.

For nearly fifty years now, I have been an avid reader of "Blondie" in the Sunday comics. Within a year or two after Lacy entered our lives, I began to compare her to the Bumstead's loyal pup, Daisy, who is always trotting at Dagwood's or Blondie's feet. Pick up most any Blondie strip you choose and you'll likely see Daisy in at least one frame. This, more than anything, defines Lacy.

Until now, I would never have pictured the joy such a small creature could bring into our lives. Lacy's companionship proved, more than anything, that dogs are truly man's best friend. I know Lacy was ours. And I am certain that if Doggy Heaven exists, our little pal is there, ridding Paradise of vacuum cleaners and playfully running off with dirty socks.

Goodbye little girl. You were as good a friend as we could have ever asked for.

Loved & Missed By
~Joel & Annie Genung~

Angie
1984-1999

In "Tuesdays with Morrie" the comment is made that death is the end of a life,  not the end of a relationship . Our 15 years together with Angie attests to the truth of that statement . She will always be in our hearts .

Loved & Missed By
~Helen & Bill Smeltzer~
Deborah Smeltzer Dumont and Chris Dumont

Dumple
September 13, 1968 ~October 9, 1982

Dumple was born in England and brought to her home in the United States.
Also loved and missed by the Smeltzer Family.

"We, who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our  own,
live within a fragile circle , easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we still would live no other way . We cherish memory as the only certain immortality,
never fully understanding the necessary plan ."
~ Irving Townsend~