Rooster Cogburn Pettigrew
When I first met my ‘True Grit’ friend, he was a one-year-old stray captured by Animal Control. I was on my way to the shelter to pick up another dog when they called my cell phone and informed me that they had a real sweet one-eyed Chihuahua that they were going to euthanize in the morning if I didn’t take him home. Not exactly the soft sell. I said ok and when I got there I was expecting a real sweet one-eyed Chihuahua and they gave me this little guy.

I put him on the seat next to me in the pick-up and started to leave. I reached over to pet his head and he bit me with a snarl and a snap. My reaction was lightning fast. I had him by the nape of the neck and held him close to my face, our noses almost touching. “There will be none of that! I am the Alpha dog around here and if you try to bite me again, I will turn this truck around, take you right back where I found you, and I’ll pull the plug on you myself! Now you just think about that for a while!”

He was completely surprised and held perfectly still while I gave him rule number one, his singular eye wide open and alert. I then set him down on the seat again and told him to think about what I had just said for the next ten minutes. He assumed a very contrite and submissive posture with his head down and I could see that he was peeking at me with his one good eye, his mind spinning. I started to drive. Ten minutes passed and I looked at him, he had not moved. “So, are you ready to start over? I am Chuck and you are Rooster. I am giving you that name because I think you have True Grit and, besides, if it’s good enough for John Wayne it’s good enough for you! You know, the Duke won an academy award with that part.” Then I stroked his head.

When I did he moaned, “Mmmmm.” I stroked him again. Again he moaned in pleasure. I don’t think anyone had ever pet him before. He pushed his head into my hand and rolled his shoulder into my palm. I massaged him and stroked again. Another “Mmmmmm.” A couple of minutes of this and he had worked his way into my lap to be pet, stroked, and hugged all the way home, an hour and 30 minute drive. Little Roosty was in heaven, moaning all the way. He had met his match!

From that day forward Rooster purposed that he would spend the rest of his life with me. He figured out early on that we were in rescue and that we were looking for a home for him. So he became unadoptable. He was nasty to everyone but me. He had chosen me and that was that. But I am a big dog guy. I’m a Rottweiler, German Shepherd, Lab, Golden Retriever kind of guy. I never considered a little dog for myself, especially a one-eyed Chihuahua, but I am so glad my little man chose me. He is the best dog ever and has given me such pleasure and happiness over the years. He loved me with all his heart and soul, was my constant companion, and makes me laugh. And after he was officially mine, he mellowed out and became very sociable and friendly to others, secure in the knowledge that he had found his home.

A few weeks ago I read an article suggesting the idea that before a dog dies, one should give him a perfect day. The day would include all the fun activities the dog loves along with favorite foods. As I read the article I naturally thought of the quality of life my own animals were experiencing. Being a self-employed graphic designer working from home I determined that my dogs have it pretty good every day.

They are unrestrained, well-fed, well-loved, and get to go with me almost every time I leave in the car. They cuddle with me on the couch when I watch TV and share my bed at night, my two Lab/Pit mixes and Rooster. Rooster always curled up in my lap for TV time and got under the covers to curl up behind my knees for bedtime.

Of course, the desire to give my dogs the perfect day every day has the side benefit of improving my quality of life! I am loved and trusted unconditionally and have constant faithful companionship. To them I can do no wrong. I can also perform magic acts, like stopping the car by windows, handing someone paper or a plastic card and receiving FOOD! I explain to them that this is nothing special for those with opposable thumbs but they still think it is cool.

My little buddy passed away this weekend on October 22, 2011, the victim of a mysterious blood disorder that struck without warning and was virtually untreatable. I am still dealing with the helpless feeling I had while he was fighting through this. In the end after a four day treatment at the vet's, Marlys and I were there when he lost the fight and his heart stopped. He had said his goodbyes to us and I know he felt our love as we cuddled, caressed, and kissed him. I will always cherish the two hours I was able to hold and soothe him the day before.

Rooster has been my 24-7 companion for the last eight years or so and I will be dealing with the loss for a while. I miss him so much. I will never forget him and will love him forever. There will never be another like him. My only regrets are that I didn’t take enough pictures and I didn't get to see him as a puppy.

Thank you, little buddy, for giving me so much. We had a wonderful time and it was much too short.

Trixie Downs
We had Trixie for over six years. Trixie has been the best thing for me. She's always there for me. When I'm sad, mad, or happy she'll be there.Trixie has been in three houses with us; my old house, my grandparent's and ours right now. About five months ago we found out about her cancer. I cried for an hour, scared she'll die. Then her cancer went into remission. We were happy! Then it struck. It was 100x worse. My dad ran with her and one day she stopped running. We all knew in our hearts she would not make it. But I was as positive as I could be. Then the night before she died, she couldn't move. She was weak. In the morning we took her to the vet. I could do 100 pages but... She died...That is the time line of Trixie Downs. ---- By Mason Downs, 11 years old

Six years ago Trixie picked us, by lying her head in my then 5 year old son's lap. Trixie died Monday, August 17th, 2009, leaving us the same way she picked us - her head in my son's lap. What an incredible dog! Six years ago we were looking for a small family dog, but Trixie taught us that "Big" dogs can have even more love to share than we could ever imagine. Trixie, you will be missed! ----- By Mason's dad, Bruce

Clifford
I keep a scrapbook of all the foster's I've had and all of them get a letter when they go to a new home. Unfortunately Clifford never got a new home, but he got a letter...

Dear Clifford, I knew you for almost a year and half and even though I always knew I was only your foster mom, I still considered you one of my own. I remember the week after you came home with us and you had the strange reaction to the heartworm. I had to go in to work and tell them I had to leave early because I thought we were going to have to put you down. I cried in front of not one, but two supervisors and figured they'd laugh me out of the office. Thankfully they didn't but I got stuck in traffic on the way to the vet's office and was late. Thankfully we knew what had happened and were able to take care of it.

You always greeted me when I came home. Always happy to bark and do the happy dance for me. You and Clyde are the only dogs I've ever seen wag in circles. You loved to have your chin scratched. Somehow you decided it was best if you could lay on your bed and eat your food. You wouldn't fetch a tennis ball to save your soul, but boy could you dance with it. All of those silly things you did taught me a few things.

If you're happy and you know it, make sure everyone else knows it too.
You're never too old to play.
There's nothing wrong with not acting your age.
Eat in bed! Even if you have to drag your own bowl there.
If you wait, someone good will happen.
I know that life with me wasn't always what I had hoped for you, but I hoped you enjoyed it.

Thank you for sharing it with me. I love you and miss you.
Love, Mom

Graham
Graham passed away. I have no words. We are so choked up.

We always said that Graham found us when we first saw him at Petco. He came into our lives and eased away the pain we had left over from losing Oliver six months prior. He was so humble, so loving, gentle and simply wonderful. He fit so well. Now we are broken, again. Less than a year just wasn't enough time. As I sit here and write this I can remember everything almost to detail, everything since the day we first saw him. All our walks and jogs (he helped me shed 50 pounds!), the one Christmas we had when he opened his gifts, the way he would howl when we asked him if he was happy (oh God, why didn't I take the time to get a video of that?) The first time I pretended to stalk him and he got scared and ran behind Catherine for protection, scared until he saw me laughing. It became a game after that, I would pretend to stalk him, he would stare, wide eyed, and then he'd jump at me and roll over so I could rub his belly. It's a game I won't be able to play anymore. Less than a year just wasn't enough...his life was short but the joy he brought us was infinite. I would have traded my life for his in a heartbeat. Thank you, for bringing us together.

On Memorial Day at around 8 pm there was a persistent grumble of thunder outside and Gina (our other dog) was sitting on the porch. This was a little unusual as Gina does not like the Thunder Man one bit. Catherine was looking at the clock and I could tell she was recalling the events of the past week. I walked out onto the porch and looked up and right outside our window was a rainbow. Graham was letting us know he was safe now, God allowed Graham to say another goodbye to us. We know he's by the Rainbow Bridge, playing with Oliver, Fat-Fat, Lister and all our other pets that we have loved and lost, waiting for us.