Three Goodbyes

A trio of short, sweet tributes to lost friends.
By Bark Readers, September 2009, Updated February 2015

Our Darling Chelsea, 1989-2009
You were a Christmas present to your daddy when he was just six-and-a-half-years-old, and I had the pleasure of having you in my life for almost four years. You were such a sweet baby girl my Chelly Belly, my Charlie. We will never forget you and we will always love you.
Until we see you again, we love you our baby girl dog! xoxoxo
—Diane Gansmann, House Springs, Mo.

Annie the Qween
It’s been one year today since Annie left, although she’s never really been gone with so many reminders of her everywhere. A dear friend of mine still has an “Annie for Qween” bumper sticker on her car, created for a fundraiser one year when she ran for Qween of the Great American Waddle, a wonderful annual event in Michigan that benefits rescued Basset Hounds. Annie attended about 10 waddles with me in three states, always dressed to the nines in her pearls and feather boas, riding in her carriage. And she managed to raise thousands of dollars in pledges. Dumped at least twice in her younger life for who-knows-what sins, she finally found me at about age 5 and we spent seven gloriously happy years together.

She had the shortest little legs I’ve ever seen on a Basset, she did not care for walking on a leash, and I’m pretty convinced that she practiced mind control on me as she could always communicate what she wanted and always got it. She was friendly to all people and dogs, loved children, but was also a great huntress who just a month before she died killed a squirrel in our backyard and of course brought it to me as a gift.
I often wonder when it is that you stop missing them, but today in spite of my lingering sadness I have to ask, why would I ever want to stop missing my sweet Annie?
—Beth Vogel, Columbus, Ohio

You came from a long line of working dogs. Great Great Grandpa Bear, Great Grandpa Goofy, Grandpa Roscoe. You loved the horses and cows, a good run through the tall grass in the spring, going on the mail route with Dad and playing with your toys even when you were considered old. We learned a lesson in loyalty from you that will never be forgotten. We buried you on the ranch and planted flowers on your resting place with a solar light to remind us that you were a beacon of sunshine in our lives. Thanks for training the next generation before you left.
—Kathleen Armstrong, Armstrong Ranch/San Gregorio, Calif.