Our Brody: A Remembrance

By Nancy Gelbhaus

I need to tell the world what a beautiful little boy Brody was.  So, please just indulge me a moment.  

When we first got him from the Colorado Springs Humane Society, he was not used to being in the house.  He had been left in a yard where he experienced seizures regularly.  He had not had his shots and was still intact.  After many days and nights bringing him into the house, he learned that it was more fun to be with all the little fur family, especially Jacks, our collie.  Being a smart, little sheltie, he soon caught on and with his agility, he showed potential as an urban search and rescue dog.  With no hesitation, he was soon walking up a ramp onto planks on sawhorses, crossing an open span and reversing direction.

Because he had not been house-trained, we used belly bands for a short time.  When he saw me with the belly-band, he would run over to me, lean on me and lift his leg to have it fastened.

Hope had the idea of setting an alarm on my cell phone for his medication times.  Whenever he heard the music, he ran to me for his treats.

Brody was like living with a five-year-old boy, always happy and willing to help.  He was excited about mornings, waking and seemingly asking, “Okay, what are we doing today?  Let’s get going!”

Much of his six months with us were spent at our country house in the Four Corners area.  He walked in the woods always on our heels, following deer trails, and by the lake, smelling wildflowers.

He was a tease and, although our Brussels Griffon would scream occasionally at him, they were the best of friends.  He and Jacks were great companions and he emulated his “big brother’s” best traits, particularly how to take care of the “littles.”  He would find and lead me when they wanted to get on or off the bed.

One of his favorite games with us was to scratch at the kitchen door to go out, push the door closed and then scratch again to be let back inside.  Second verse, same as the first.

Because of the way he would slide through a room, Brody picked up the nickname of Kramer.  Usually, there was no damage.  However, as he bounded through the garage one day, he knocked over an unopened gallon of white paint, resulting in a huge puddle.  Amazingly, he avoided stepping in it.  He didn’t bring us to the scene of the crime either.  Here was the real-world test of the RMCSR application question of, “What would you do if your dog made a big mess?”  Our answer is that we were laughing as we used a dustpan to scoop up the paint, imagining what “Kramer’s” flailing legs must have looked like.

Unfortunately, Brody’s seizure activity continued with increasing frequency and severity despite several different medications and dosages.  After we protected and comforted him as he would have one, he expressed his love with licks while looking in our eyes.  At the end of his last seizure, his eyes were full of tears and we knew he no longer had the quality of life that he had so enjoyed.

We know that RMCSR gave Brody and us the best possible care and we are so appreciative of everyone’s caring support, especially Hope and the Board.

Treve crossed over [the Rainbow Bridge] at 130 yesterday.  I shall miss his head in my lap,  and that soulful expression of his :-)  He was pure collie in the  truest sense,  beautiful, sensitive, sweet, well-mannered, and loved  by all that knew him.  And he was definitely a talker!  He would go  outside and look around and bark, as if to say, "is anyone out there"?  He was with us for seven years, but that was not nearly long enough.

Safe travels, sweet boy... 'til we meet again♡♡♡

My Honey's brother passed away last night in his owner's arms. We lost our Honey less than a month ago. These twins are now reunited over the Rainbow Bridge - running and playing. Thank you Shep and Honey for all the happiness you brought into our lives. Rest in pease Shep (4/11/17) and Honey (3/16/17). We love you.

Doni

The dreaded day. Macie crossed the Rainbow Bridge. It has been coming on for weeks, but she declined more the last couple of days. She got to where she couldn't stand unless she was on carpet. She'd struggle to pull herself to her feet, but on the hardwood, she would just fall--she'd fall in the yard too when she went out to potty.

Yesterday, I came home to find her asleep by the water ish. I discovered that she'd apparently fallen while drinking so she just lay there until she fell asleep. Her ruff, chest, and paws were soaked with water. She still ate, and barked to go out, but it was getting harder and harder for her to stand at all. Also, her third eyelid had begun to bleed again, a result of the brain tumor. She was blind in her other eye too. So today I made the fateful decision that prolonging the inevitable was just for my sake, not hers. I called the vet and they had time to do it today, so off we went and by the time we got there she had loud, labored breathing. When whe was first diagnosed with the brain tumor, the vet thought she might last another year with meds, and this May would have been two years, so she beat the odds.

Once there she kept looking at me though, as if she could actually se me. This photo was taken about three years ago, when I first got her and she was healthy. In reality, she'd lost most of the hair on her shoulders and upper back and her coat was thin and dry. Her bad eye was all gunky from drainage and her face and eyelashes were white.

They laid her on a baby blanket and gave her the shots and it was just a matter of minutes and she was gone. They wrapped her uin the blanket with her head uncovered and for a moment she looked like a puppy. That broke my heart.

I signed the paperwork and was surprised to see they charged $56 for a health checkup. Excuse me? She's dying, she's not healthy, so other than checking to see if her heart had quit beating, why the checkup? Always before I've paid just the cost of the injections and cremations. That was just plain wrong.

Poor little Cody keeps looking for her and the vet said since they'd been together 16 years, and were so bonded, that he probably wouldn't last long without her. He seems lost, poor little guy.

This is absolutely the worst part of having pets and the older I get the harder it is to deal with the inevitable. There always seems to be some little helpless pup who needs a good home though, and I always step up to take him. I just can't help myself, even though I know I won't have them long since I only adopt the seniors; I can't bear the thought that they've been surrendered and are homeless because they got old.

Now that she's on the other side [of the Rainbow Bridge], she'll have lots of pups to play with: Chang, Shea, Shelby, Oliver, Emme, Buddy, and a gaggle of doggie cousins.

Enjoy your freedom Macie!

Kathy