A few words about the animal friends we have loved and lost. If you would like to add your loving memory below, please email us with a message and/or picture. Click Here
“I talk to him when I’m lonesome like; and I’m sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught threat. For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that.”
~ W. Dayton Wedgefarth
Hello to a team that is beyond words. Today I had the dreaded task of picking up my Lizzie’s ashes. Driving to you I was imagining all the things I was going to say to you all but upon seeing the bag with her in, words escaped me. I wanted to say thank you. Not just for the end, but for being there for Lizzie and I through all her ailments and concerns. Thank you for putting hers and my heart before revenue and caring about us above all. Lizzie and I had 16 years together and travelled locally, interstate and internationally. Having been to many vets over her life, I can only recommend the care and passion you all have displayed. You ALL genuinely care and that, I cherish. I cherish knowing I said good bye to my best friend knowing she was loved to the end by you all too. Sorry I didn’t get to say this today but I wanted you to know that your team is second to none. Thank you doesn’t seem enough. RIP Lizzie Cross. 1999-2015 xxx
In Memory of Toby Kelly
When I was a boy of about ten or so, I was lucky enough to be given a book titled “Algonquin – The Story of a Great Dog” by Dion Henderson. I have since read that book many times, both in my youth and as an adult; it has been repaired here and there and on observation you might even be tempted to call it a little ‘dog-eared’. I suspect this little story had quite a deal to do with the commencement of my desire to own a dog and I remember clearly wishing that one day I would be lucky enough to have a dog as extraordinary as Algonquin. Well it took a while, about another twenty-five or so of mostly dog-less years, but with the arrival in our house of Computace Toblerone (Toby) in the year 2000, I’m pretty sure we got all I had wished for on those long ago days and so much, much more.
Toby, who passed away this week (late July 2012) at age twelve, was a big, brown, boofy, bear of a chocolate labrador retriever. He was everything we wanted in a dog: bundles of energy and exuberance; sometimes a little mischievous and sneaky; always adventurous and inquisitive; easy to train; friendly, kind and gentle with family, friends and strangers; ever ready for a pat, a cuddle or a walk and when faced with illness in his middle and later years, strong and brave. Like most Labs (so I’m told) he was totally indiscriminate when it came to food, along with anything that either smelt a bit like food, or looked a bit like food, or was an object we happened to be holding in a food-like manner or pretty much whatever else that he could otherwise just get inside his mouth. When he got a run up he could just about knock a grown man off his feet, (a little hard to explain to visitors that he was just saying hello), yet small children he had never met before could always be guaranteed a safe and friendly pat. We still say he had the world’s waggiest tail. He made us laugh, shout, cry, smile, drove us crazy at times and generally taught us so much more than we ever taught him. He lived his life to the full and flat out and while now we miss him dearly, our cup of memories is full and overflowing.
Quite early on in his life another dog owner said to me that if you own a dog you should own it “all the way”. This was good advice. I think she meant that there should be no half-way measures with a dog, that you should commit to their health and well-being the way they commit to yours – totally and unconditionally. I know Toby kept his end of this bargain, I hope he somehow knew that we tried our very best to keep ours.
John Grogan of “Marley and Me” fame is pretty good for a dog related quote. The following is one of my favourites and it suits Toby to a capital T for Toblerone:
A dog has no use for fancy cars or big homes or designer clothes. Status symbol means nothing to him. A waterlogged stick will do just fine. A dog judges others not by their color or creed or class but by who they are inside. A dog doesn’t care if you are rich or poor, educated or illiterate, clever or dull. Give him your heart and he will give you his.
Toby, thanks for sharing your heart with us.
On the back cover of that Algonquin book there is a short epitaph. With apologies to the author I have taken the liberty of borrowing it for Toby. I cannot do better. Go well, stay well, old mate.