WILLY’S DEAD

When I first saw him he was eleven weeks old.
He was scurrying around a trashy kitchen
In York, Maine; he needed a home.
He was the runt of a litter of champions
And the last one to go.

His father was the American champion,
And in the picture he looked leonine
In all his competitive glory.

We brought him home in the old Malibu
And we stopped along the way to walk him.
He made the transition
From last of the litter to loving home
With a certain puppy grace
That was a mere foreshadow.

 That night I walked him on a nearby golf course
And let him run a little. He disappeared.
I called and called his name, but he was gone;
So in the end in desperation
I just ran in all directions, whistling.
He came to me out of the night; he seemed relieved
To find me again.
Even today when I whistled
He tried to come.

Over the next fourteen years
Willy and I became one in a way.
He always had to know where I was,
And if I was away, he would wait at the door.
When we watched television he always wanted to be
Where he could look at me. And, he liked to
Watch TV, too.

Every night I would get down on the floor and
Play with him; as the years went by
Our play time became more and more gentle.

He was nearly blind and almost totally deaf,
But he still had a playful spirit, and to the very end
He was a gorgeous golden retriever with
Fur so soft, and eyes so knowing that
I just couldn't take mine off of him.

I held the doctor's hand and watched milligram
By milligram as the agent of death swept into
His veins.
My face was right next to his,
The way he always liked it, when he passed on.

When I showered this morning I cried in
The spray and saw it all happen just as it did.
I felt the change was coming and when he died
I felt it all come true.

There is some part of me that wants to love him
And now it's too late.
There is some part of me that regrets so much
And now it's too late.
There is some part of me that can’t bridge the void,
And now it's getting bigger and deeper.

In the end he was lying on the linoleum floor
Of the veterinarian's office in a perfect
Dog galloping pose.
Arms and legs out, head up.
Still.
I tucked his tongue into his mouth
And watched my tears drop on his face
And run down as though they were his too.
We cried together.

I loved that dog
Like a fire loves a log.
He made me a better man.
And there's no way in the world
I made him a better dog.
He gave something to me
So wonderful, so beautiful, so vast
In it's simplicity
That even now that
Willy's dead
He is not dead to me.

 -- August 2, 2004.

Winston The Cat

Such a mangy little cat
With horrible habits and
A mediocre personality
With eyes always watching
And ready to run from
The hands that fed him.
He was completely untrustworthy
And even malicious at this
Lurking along in our lives
For 18 years. The memory
Of great cats did not deter
Him from his ferol ways
Of isolation and caterwauling
As though he was never sure
If food would come along
Without his constant badgering.
But, he was a common thread
For the three of us and each
Of us in his or her own way
Did love him and did appreciate
His weird sort of affection and
Certainly his amazing longevity
And perseverence, if not his lassitude.
He was an element of who we
Are and now he’s in the black
Plastic bag waiting to be buried
Beside the holly bushes.
In the end, this little cat taught
A message that will long outlast
His shabby little visage.
He taught how important
Life is to even the least of all,
His tenacity to hang on,
And then he taught how far
More important we are
To each other than anything
Else; no mistake, no argument,
Nothing can ever be be more
Important than each other.
So, in the end, we go on,
Far better for Winston,
Loving each other a little
Less for granted, and
More aware of the precious
Passing moments that
Never come again.

-- Bill Purdin, April 4, 2002

Maxwell

This is in memory of our dog, Maxwell; aka Maxypants; aka Max; aka Picachu; aka Peak; aka Panties.

Max came into this world without much of a chance. Born of two dominant breeds: American Staffordshire Terrier and Saint Bernard, he quickly found his first home at the Carlsbad Animal Shelter. My wife Robin and I met him there on a rainy day and instantly fell for his lovable squirmy antics.We took him home and made him part of our lives. There were many happy moments with Maxwell that we will hold dear including incessant licking of our faces, non-stop tennis ball chasing, dancing on the hassock in our living room and for the most part being an enjoyable member of our family.

We were filled with grief as time went by and the dominant aggressive instincts of Maxwell became uncontrollable. Consultations with UCSD behaviorists and many subsequent training attempts later we were forced to admit that to preserve the safety of our family and those around us -- for Max's life was to be a little shorter. As the loving side of his nature burned away in the flames of aggression, we no longer had any choice but to send him on the journey to the Rainbow Bridge.

We hope that he has rediscovered his joyousness there and that he never wants for a tennis ball or a sunny day. Goodbye Max: I, Robin, Kingbear, Barney and Sampson all love and miss you.

This is to our special boy
Vader Boy Cox
December 14, 1996 to January 31, 2000
German Shepherd Male

You were our life & joy our special big V-Boy the day you sadly parted left life empty & broken hearted we hope you know we had no choice to put you out of pain BUT god we would give ANYTHING to have you back again we hope your feeling better & now you have no fears for now we've only photos & 10 million uncried tears we cannot stop the sadness cos we don't know where you are so i guess we'll just have to accept you're the brightest shining star alive 4 ever in my heart, 2 greatly loved, 2 be. 4 gotten... love always we miss you sooooooooooooooooooooo much my big precious lamb, we wuv you mums boy  from your humans mum , dad , kayleigh,ryan & abi  xxxxx miss you loads big van v boy   >from claire & kisses emma    xxxx