There’s something different in our home now. We’re missing you, Joey. And it hurts. You came into our lives for Jason’s 7th birthday and we had no idea at that time what an impact you would have on our lives
for the next 13 years.
You touched the hearts of all extended family members also who, although sometimes confused about your gender (female with a male’s name!) grew to love you as well. You were gentle, yet very, very protective. You loved each of us equally and took your job of guarding us and our home very seriously. You never had to be aggressive, but we always knew that if need be, you would gladly give your life to keep us from harm’s way. You never failed to greet us as we came home from work; that is, until the last couple of months when it was too hard for you to get up. We understood.
The years went by so fast – how could you be considered an elderly dog already? Pampering you in your golden years was one thing; facing the fact that you had cancer was entirely different. You had always seemed so healthy. This couldn’t be happening!
Not to our Joey! But it was.
We watched God’s plan unfold for you with very heavy hearts and wondered if we would be faced with a heartbreaking decision soon. God must have known how this would tear us apart, because on January 25, 2003, at 9:30 p.m., he took the decision out of our hands. We had prayed that you would go quickly and that the three of us would be with you, and He answered that prayer. We were all holding you and crying when you passed. Oh, how our hearts broke.
You gave us such unconditional love, even when maybe we didn’t always deserve it, because there were certainly times when, in the midst of our stressful, hectic lives, we might have missed opportunities to be with you – I’m certain we took you for granted at times. But never doubt the depth of our love for you. No dog will ever be as special to us as you were, Joey. And thank you for loving us.
We'll meet you at the Rainbow Bridge,
| Linda Stewart |