by Annette Purcell / Author Unknown


I remember bringing you home. You were so small and cuddly with your tiny paws and soft fur. You bounced around the room with your eyes flashing and your ears flopping around. Once in awhile, you’d let out a yelp just to let me know this was your territory.

Making a mess with the house and chewing on everything in sight became a passion, and when I scolded you, you just put your head down and looked up at me with those innocent eyes, as if to say, “I’m sorry, but I’ll do it again as soon as you’re not watching.

As you got older, you protected me by looking out the window and barking at everyone who walked and drove by. When I had a tough day at home or at work, you would be waiting for me with your tail wagging, just to say “It will be okay and I love you.” You never had a bad day, and I could always count on you to be there for me. When I sat down to read the paper or watch TV you would lay down by my feet, looking for attention. You never asked for anything more than to have me pat your head so you could go to sleep knowing that you were loved by me.

As you got older, you moved around more slowly. Then one day, old age finally took its toll, and you couldn’t stand on those wobbly legs anymore. You hobbled around with one paw lifted. You needed help to climb my bed in which you loved so much to sleep in.

I sat down and patted you lying there, trying to make you young again. You just looked up at me as to say that you were old and tired and
could not take the pain.

I stayed up most of the night saying goodbye. You were given pain medication every four hours. All I could do was cry.

With tears in my eyes, I drove you one last time to the vet. One last time you were lying next to me, you could not enjoy the ride. For some strange reason, you were able to stand up in front of the animal hospital,
perhaps it was your sense of pride.

We carried you into the room where you lied on a blanket. Your head on my lap, as I cried for your sanction. You looked up as if to say, “Thank you for taking care of me.” I thought, “No, thank you for taking care of me.”



I will always love you and
we will meet again at the “Rainbow Bridge.”


Annette Purcell