Our family has have had an unusual string of good luck with the pets we been blessed to have in our family. I've grown up with pets in my house my entire life. So too has my son. So it is with a heart laden with pain and sadness that dedicate this monument to our beloved dog Sandy.
Sandy joined our family around 1993 or 1994, her birthday is uncertain. Part of a feral littler of pups, it was perhaps her misfortune that she was the only one slow enough to be caught. My former brother-in-law was going to take the pups and their mother and have them euthanized.
It was my intention to save as many as I could. As it turned out, 1 was all I was allowed to spare. I took her from her mountain home and we raised her with our other dog, Sugarbear. The two were fast friends for three or four years, until Sugarbear died of heart failure not long after.
By then Sandy had become a mother and my ex had adopted another dog. Our family didn't stay together long after that and Sandy left with her boy and his mother and moved back to the same location where we had saved her from lethal injection.
For 10 years she enjoyed running wild and free with a pack of as many as 15 dogs in her own family from time to time. She was short, but fast. She had the most powerful legs I've seen on a dog like Sandy who stood no more than two hands from the ground.
Strong in body and spirit, she did not bark often. Instead she chirped much like the Cadbury Bunny when excited or intensely happy. Content to be with her people, much of her life was spent running trough high grass, chasing rabbits, mice, rats and even a coyote or two.
Then, tragically, on the weekend of July 18th 2009 Sandy broke her leg running in those very same fields she had spent her entire life having fun in. She was taken to the Vet, but he assured the family that while the bone might knit nicely, the anesthetic they would have to use would undoubted kill her because of her advanced age.
My son was with us in our Kennesaw home that weekend and didn't find out that Sandy was inured until he returned on the following Monday. His mother, bless her soul, had kept Sandy alive long enough for Dave to say goodbye.
He called me as soon as he could and told me the awful news. He told me he intended to stay with her all that day and night. At 15 minutes to 9:00 in the evening, I texted him to whisper to Sandy that I love her and I miss her.
At some point near midnight he responded with "Sandy wanted me to tell u that she loves u too and will miss you."
Around 11:00 a.m. David texted me with the simple words, "It's done."
She's with her friend's Bubba, our yellow Tabby and Sugarbear. Sugarbear and Sandy both helped me mature as a human, a lover of life and to understand that steady temper and patience are the fruit of life from which we squeeze life's nectar.
Sandy now sleeps overlooking the hay field where she spent endless hours doing what dogs to best, playing. She was taken from her home to save her life. In the 16 years she lived, she almost lost it three times. Each time she bounced right back. Now it's time to sleep my sweet little angel. Remember though, you were always and will forever remain a member of our family.
We love you Sandy girl.
Sandy joined our family around 1993 or 1994, her birthday is uncertain. Part of a feral littler of pups, it was perhaps her misfortune that she was the only one slow enough to be caught. My former brother-in-law was going to take the pups and their mother and have them euthanized.
It was my intention to save as many as I could. As it turned out, 1 was all I was allowed to spare. I took her from her mountain home and we raised her with our other dog, Sugarbear. The two were fast friends for three or four years, until Sugarbear died of heart failure not long after.
By then Sandy had become a mother and my ex had adopted another dog. Our family didn't stay together long after that and Sandy left with her boy and his mother and moved back to the same location where we had saved her from lethal injection.
For 10 years she enjoyed running wild and free with a pack of as many as 15 dogs in her own family from time to time. She was short, but fast. She had the most powerful legs I've seen on a dog like Sandy who stood no more than two hands from the ground.
Strong in body and spirit, she did not bark often. Instead she chirped much like the Cadbury Bunny when excited or intensely happy. Content to be with her people, much of her life was spent running trough high grass, chasing rabbits, mice, rats and even a coyote or two.
Then, tragically, on the weekend of July 18th 2009 Sandy broke her leg running in those very same fields she had spent her entire life having fun in. She was taken to the Vet, but he assured the family that while the bone might knit nicely, the anesthetic they would have to use would undoubted kill her because of her advanced age.
My son was with us in our Kennesaw home that weekend and didn't find out that Sandy was inured until he returned on the following Monday. His mother, bless her soul, had kept Sandy alive long enough for Dave to say goodbye.
He called me as soon as he could and told me the awful news. He told me he intended to stay with her all that day and night. At 15 minutes to 9:00 in the evening, I texted him to whisper to Sandy that I love her and I miss her.
At some point near midnight he responded with "Sandy wanted me to tell u that she loves u too and will miss you."
Around 11:00 a.m. David texted me with the simple words, "It's done."
She's with her friend's Bubba, our yellow Tabby and Sugarbear. Sugarbear and Sandy both helped me mature as a human, a lover of life and to understand that steady temper and patience are the fruit of life from which we squeeze life's nectar.
Sandy now sleeps overlooking the hay field where she spent endless hours doing what dogs to best, playing. She was taken from her home to save her life. In the 16 years she lived, she almost lost it three times. Each time she bounced right back. Now it's time to sleep my sweet little angel. Remember though, you were always and will forever remain a member of our family.
We love you Sandy girl.
Our family has have had an unusual string of good luck with the pets we been blessed to have in our family. I've grown up with pets in my house my entire life. So too has my son. So it is with a heart laden with pain and sadness that dedicate this monument to our beloved dog Sandy.
Sandy joined our family around 1993 or 1994, her birthday is uncertain. Part of a feral littler of pups, it was perhaps her misfortune that she was the only one slow enough to be caught. My former brother-in-law was going to take the pups and their mother and have them euthanized.
It was my intention to save as many as I could. As it turned out, 1 was all I was allowed to spare. I took her from her mountain home and we raised her with our other dog, Sugarbear. The two were fast friends for three or four years, until Sugarbear died of heart failure not long after.
By then Sandy had become a mother and my ex had adopted another dog. Our family didn't stay together long after that and Sandy left with her boy and his mother and moved back to the same location where we had saved her from lethal injection.
For 10 years she enjoyed running wild and free with a pack of as many as 15 dogs in her own family from time to time. She was short, but fast. She had the most powerful legs I've seen on a dog like Sandy who stood no more than two hands from the ground.
Strong in body and spirit, she did not bark often. Instead she chirped much like the Cadbury Bunny when excited or intensely happy. Content to be with her people, much of her life was spent running trough high grass, chasing rabbits, mice, rats and even a coyote or two.
Then, tragically, on the weekend of July 18th 2009 Sandy broke her leg running in those very same fields she had spent her entire life having fun in. She was taken to the Vet, but he assured the family that while the bone might knit nicely, the anesthetic they would have to use would undoubted kill her because of her advanced age.
My son was with us in our Kennesaw home that weekend and didn't find out that Sandy was inured until he returned on the following Monday. His mother, bless her soul, had kept Sandy alive long enough for Dave to say goodbye.
He called me as soon as he could and told me the awful news. He told me he intended to stay with her all that day and night. At 15 minutes to 9:00 in the evening, I texted him to whisper to Sandy that I love her and I miss her.
At some point near midnight he responded with "Sandy wanted me to tell u that she loves u too and will miss you."
Around 11:00 a.m. David texted me with the simple words, "It's done."
She's with her friend's Bubba, our yellow Tabby and Sugarbear. Sugarbear and Sandy both helped me mature as a human, a lover of life and to understand that steady temper and patience are the fruit of life from which we squeeze life's nectar.
Sandy now sleeps overlooking the hay field where she spent endless hours doing what dogs to best, playing. She was taken from her home to save her life. In the 16 years she lived, she almost lost it three times. Each time she bounced right back. Now it's time to sleep my sweet little angel. Remember though, you were always and will forever remain a member of our family.
We love you Sandy girl.
Sandy joined our family around 1993 or 1994, her birthday is uncertain. Part of a feral littler of pups, it was perhaps her misfortune that she was the only one slow enough to be caught. My former brother-in-law was going to take the pups and their mother and have them euthanized.
It was my intention to save as many as I could. As it turned out, 1 was all I was allowed to spare. I took her from her mountain home and we raised her with our other dog, Sugarbear. The two were fast friends for three or four years, until Sugarbear died of heart failure not long after.
By then Sandy had become a mother and my ex had adopted another dog. Our family didn't stay together long after that and Sandy left with her boy and his mother and moved back to the same location where we had saved her from lethal injection.
For 10 years she enjoyed running wild and free with a pack of as many as 15 dogs in her own family from time to time. She was short, but fast. She had the most powerful legs I've seen on a dog like Sandy who stood no more than two hands from the ground.
Strong in body and spirit, she did not bark often. Instead she chirped much like the Cadbury Bunny when excited or intensely happy. Content to be with her people, much of her life was spent running trough high grass, chasing rabbits, mice, rats and even a coyote or two.
Then, tragically, on the weekend of July 18th 2009 Sandy broke her leg running in those very same fields she had spent her entire life having fun in. She was taken to the Vet, but he assured the family that while the bone might knit nicely, the anesthetic they would have to use would undoubted kill her because of her advanced age.
My son was with us in our Kennesaw home that weekend and didn't find out that Sandy was inured until he returned on the following Monday. His mother, bless her soul, had kept Sandy alive long enough for Dave to say goodbye.
He called me as soon as he could and told me the awful news. He told me he intended to stay with her all that day and night. At 15 minutes to 9:00 in the evening, I texted him to whisper to Sandy that I love her and I miss her.
At some point near midnight he responded with "Sandy wanted me to tell u that she loves u too and will miss you."
Around 11:00 a.m. David texted me with the simple words, "It's done."
She's with her friend's Bubba, our yellow Tabby and Sugarbear. Sugarbear and Sandy both helped me mature as a human, a lover of life and to understand that steady temper and patience are the fruit of life from which we squeeze life's nectar.
Sandy now sleeps overlooking the hay field where she spent endless hours doing what dogs to best, playing. She was taken from her home to save her life. In the 16 years she lived, she almost lost it three times. Each time she bounced right back. Now it's time to sleep my sweet little angel. Remember though, you were always and will forever remain a member of our family.
We love you Sandy girl.
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