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 Rainbow Bridge
Please send us your rememberance and a digital photo (if you have one).
We would be honored to display the memorial for your loved one.
Information can be sent to Patty at patty.comerford@gmail.com
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Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor;
those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again,
just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing;
they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance.
His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers.
Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet,
you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.
The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head,
and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....
Author unknown
These Greyhounds have crossed the Rainbow Bridge and will be remembered fondly by their families... « Previous Page Next Page »
Bogart (Bogie) Michaelson
Bogart (Bogie) Michaelson
June 2004 – May 2013
Our beautiful, much-loved boy was put to rest just before midnight May 28th after a courageous struggle with an extremely aggressive osteosarcoma. He handled his amputation and the first two chemo treatments with few problems, and that gave us hope for an extended recovery. But it was not to be. A few days prior to his 3rd chemo treatment he began showing signs of rapid breathing and the x-ray (taken only 10 weeks after his pre-amputation clean x-ray) showed the cancer had metastasized extensively to his lungs. Less than a week later his condition had deteriorated to the point that we had to let him go. He was brave, sweet and loving right up to the end.
Bogie (formerly Patrik) came to live with us shortly before Christmas 2007. Bogie was big, red, beautiful and very sweet and gentle. His ears stuck straight up like rabbit ears – we used to joke that it was his disguise so he could sneak up on bunnies. He loved to have those big ears rubbed. Bogie loved to be hugged and always managed to hook a foot around your arm – even when he only had one front foot. He was practically beside himself with joy when he got to ride in the car, and mealtimes were his favorite time of day. He loved his walks, and enjoyed inspecting any cars that were parked on the street, perhaps hoping for a ride. While Bogie loved all humans, he was especially attached to Steve. Bogie could be indifferent to his “sister,” Bacall (formerly Kinrara). But she loved him dearly and she misses him.
We are so grateful to have had the privilege to take care of this wonderful animal. His life was too brief, but we tried to make it wonderful.
Steve and Connie (and Bacall) Michaelson
Text Taken from a Memorial
“…For if the dog be well remembered, if sometimes he leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, laughing, begging, it matters not where the dog sleeps. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees are roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pastureland where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is one to a dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained and nothing lost – if memory lives. But there is one best place to bury a dog.
If you bury him in this spot, he will come to you when you call – come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path and to your side again. And though you may call a dozen living dogs to heel, they shall not growl at him nor resent him coming, for he belongs there.
People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper, people who have never really had a dog. Smile at them, for you shall know something that is hidden from them.
The one best place to bury a dog is in the heart of his master…”
Anonymous
Tristan (Sting Ray)
Tristan (Sting Ray)
Dec 5 2002 – Nov 5 2005 – July 5 2013.
I like to think of an adoption date as a new birthday. Tristan arrived in my life on November 5th, 2005. He was my first greyhound. Although I had other dogs throughout my life — as most of you know — when you let a grey into your heart, he pretty much rewrites everything you ever knew about loving unconditionally.
Tristan was a winner from snout to tail. A track star, a prison program graduate. He had more personality & starch in one paw than many Two-Legs I've known. Tristan didn't walk or stroll, he swaggered. A beautiful red brindle, my tiger turned heads everywhere we went. The John Travolta of Ambassadogs. He was wicked smart too. He convinced everyone we met that greyhounds were unquestionably the finest dogs on earth. And if someone was being stubborn, he'd just lean on them until they surrendered. He broke down our new landlord using that tactic.
We traveled the whole eastern US together. He loved the rushing window wind. "All the thrill and none of the work," I'd tease him. Trail leader in the woods, sophisticated gent on a stroll downtown, shopping at PetSmart, I could take him anywhere... but his favorite destination was the Dog Park. First, he'd check in with all the dogs. Taunt the young guns, then take off in grand 30 mph style. Returning, he make the rounds among the stunned Two-Legs, collecting admiring pats from his new fans.
Tristan, you became ill so suddenly, I wasn't at all prepared to let you go. Dr. Schneider reminded me how tough you'd always been, how you'd mask lesser aches & pains. This was something bigger and more serious than we could fight, even together. The ride to the hospital that early morning seemed like the longest of my life, until I had to take the ride home without you.
That night, I left the window open, made your bed and set out fresh water for your spirit when you returned home. I knew your journey would be long. As I promised when I held you, you're going to the biggest doggie park you've ever seen. When I miss you now, I look up in the stars and know you're playing among them.
Love you so much my prince...
Momma & Simon-Pup
Doc
Doc
7/22/1999 – 6/25/2013
We fostered BP’s Dr. Strangeluv in November, 2004. We called him Doc, not wanting to change his name if we weren’t keeping him. Four months later, when a home was found for him, we admitted our foster failure and asked if we could keep him. He was so timid and shy, so afraid of everything. He stayed close to our other grey, Gina, but cowered if we made any sudden move near him. After four months we had made some headway, but didn’t want him to experience the stress of another new home. It took a good year of hours on the couch holding and massaging him, and lots of Meet and Greets and interaction with other people and greys. He became one of the finest dogs we’ve ever known.
Although he was officially “Doc”, at home we called him “The Doctor”.He was quietly demanding, continually standing next to me until he got what hecame for, either a walk or a treat. I couldn’t sit on the couch without his head on my lap or with his butt close enough for a constant caressing. If I stopped, he bared his teeth and hissed at me, until he felt my touch again and went back to sleep.
Doc shared over 8 years with us and passed less than one month before his 14th birthday. He loved walks and roadtrips, but his favorite event was barbeques, where he put on a show digging holes, thinking it very funny that I was behind him sweeping up the mess he was making while he continued to dig.
He was truly a Doctor to all of us. Jasmine joined us when Gina passed unexpectedly in 2006, and while not thrilled with sharing his home with a new dog, Doc, always the gentleman, accepted and bonded with her. His last few years brought on rear leg weakness and house accidents, and he couldn’t do stairs anymore, but we kept him comfortable and he still loved his walks. He passed on June 25th, suddenly, quickly, and we pray, painlessly. Although we knew it could happen at any time, it has left a huge hole in our hearts that will be a long time healing.
Loretta Catena
Lila
My sweet quiet Lila; my couch potato was called home today while I soothed her loving face. My heart Is breaking and I miss her already. We had her for a year and I hope she left us knowing what a loving family she was part of. Rest In peace Lila.
Love your forever family
Hallo Trays Gold
Hallo Trays Gold (2/27/2002 - 4/23/2013)
When I decided to get a dog, I knew I wanted to get a 'rescue' and thought a greyhound (with their reported coach-potato nature) would be perfect. Not knowing much else, I left it to Barbara to choose a dog for me and in June of 2005 met her and Al at the vet's to pick-up Hallo Trays Gold, newly arrived from Florida. Tray, as he became known, was leaning heavily on Al, but gave me a smile that spread all across his face, crinkling-up his eyes and stealing my heart. This one in a million greyhound survived Telangiectatic Osteoscarcoma, diagnosed in a joint of a toe in August 2005 after amputation and multiple rounds of chemotherapy through the end of 2005. While Tray may have been lucky to get someone who could and would pay for treatment, as it turned out, Tray in many ways, 'rescued' me during an difficult adjustment to life as a disabled person. My 2nd grey, Jo, joined us in 2006 and together Tray and Jo have kept me entertained, active and company down through the years.
Always a happy boy and bed hog, Tray loved laying on his back with his legs waggling in the air. Friendly to all, on our daily walks he would search out people and try to lead us to them, where he would stand still and give them a "don't you want to pet me?" look that worked more times than not. He hated rain, loved snow and in the Fall nothing made him happier than thrashing around in piles of leaves. Not one to keep his feelings to himself, Tray would yelp, holla and stomp a foot to get his way.
In March of 2010 Tray developed an autoimmune condition that attacked his red blood cells. First the condition, known as AMHA, responded well to treatment, but then this past winter Tray began to decline. Though his vets tried everything, in April it was clear that treatment was no longer working and Tray's red blood cell count was falling. Finally, the only thing I could do for him was to let him go, though it broke my heart to do it.
Its been 2 months now and both Jo and I miss Tray every day and I still catch myself looking/calling out for him. Even so, I wouldn't trade a minute of the time I had him with me and hope to see his smile again someday...
Rosemary Farr
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