Truly sorry for your loss, Lisa and Bill. Dogs truly are our best friends.
You should read the George Vest speech from 1870 again. William Safire called it one of the greatest speeches ever given.
"Gentlemen of the jury, the best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter whom he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us -- those whom we trust with our happiness and good name -- may become traitors in their faith. The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads. The one absolute, unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world -- the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous -- is his dog.
"Gentlemen of the jury, a man's dog stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in health and sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow, and the snow drives fiercely, if only he can be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.
"If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in its embrace, and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death."
Dear Lisa and Bill, I am sorry your dear Sydney has left her body. I don't know how it works, but I feel she will always feel your love. The photos of her are so beautiful and moving. I feel one of the most noble things we can do on this Earth is to give a dog a good home, which you did. May you all be at peace...
I'm so sorry to hear about your loss. I am one of those kindred spirits who feels as close if not closer to animals than humans.
Life is temporal and maybe one of the reasons many domestic animals have such shorter life spans than ours is so we keep that in mind and really notice the time we DO share together.
Interestingly enough I was thinking of when I met you at the Christmas party this weekend. We had a conversation about Sydney then. You are all three in my thoughts.
She stole socks. She also once caught a baby bird mid-flight that she had scared out of its nest. I pried her mouth open and out it flew, unharmed. Same thing happened with a moth that zinged me between the eyes. She had the softest mouth. There are a million stories of the late great Sydney dog.
Lisa and Bill, I am so sorry about Sydney's passing. Pets are truly members of our families and I know how important she was to your's. My thoughts and tears are with you. Karen Whitaker
Sydney was a GREAT friend. She was very fun. I will miss her. I used to laugh when Gilby would jump on her. Aunt Lisa and Uncle Bill were really lucky to have such a great dog.
Oh, and two more things, she would absolutley freak out if she didn't have her collar on and she loved to rub her self along the sides of the couches. Silly girl.
Remember the sounds of her toenails on the floors--she could never sneak up on anyone! And when she got her little head caught in her pen when she was a puppy--that was a sight to come home to! She really did love you, Lisa and Bill. You were lucky to have her and she was so very lucky to have you.
Lisa & Bill, So sorry for your loss I too once had to make the same hard decision as you have. It is better for them to rest in piece. They have left our world but will never leave our hearts. Keep smiling :) Al & the 3 J's
Lisa & Bill, When Matt called today with the news my heart sunk - Sydney...what a girl! As I shared with you on Saturday I remember snuggling up with her on Christmas night, 2001 when I was house sitting for you and she was my bed buddy - what a sweetheart (& good spooner!) She sure will be missed and we are all here for you both to share stories or if you just need a hug. Lot's of Love, Lynn, Lily, Matt & Dudley
Lisa and Bill, Words can't even begin to do justice - I'm so sorry, I truly can't believe that our big beautiful girl is no longer physically here with you. I still remember that little ball of roly poly fur in the box in the old condo all those years ago (which doesn't seem so very long - and not long enough in human years). All my love, Dani Getrich Stang
Love you both and we know how much you will miss Sydney. She was a gentle, loving friend, protector and true member of our family. We will remember that Sydney had a penchant for stealing almost anything..socks...panty hose...carry it around in her mouth with her eyebrows twitching...as though we couldn't tell...and bury it in the back yard hoping more would miraculously sprout up with the flowers....Memories sutain us. Our love always, Dad and Mom
So sorry to hear about your loss. We're glad we got to spend some time with Syndey not too long ago. I'll always remember her taking my socks the morning of Bill and my first 10K together in Ojai. Of course I panicked, because you can't run a race with out socks! (Or at least I can't!).
This quote from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet gave me some comfort when I read it again last night: "When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."
When Sydney was about 4 years old, we had a large apricot tree in the backyard. She came into the house with those eyebrows twitching and led us to a treasure of fallen fruit. Quick on her feet, she started eating as fast as Lisa and I were picking it all up off of the ground. Completely satisfied that we had beaten her at the game, we left for the house. As we looked back we saw her.....leaping into the tree...:) Mom
From one of my favorite "tween" books, "A Ring of Endless Light" - the last line is my all time favorite:
The earth will never be the same again. Rock, water, tree, iron share this grief As distant stars participate in pain. A candle snuffed, a falling star or leaf, A (dolphin) death, O this particular loss Is Heaven-mourned; for if no angel cried, If this small one was tossed away as dross, The very galaxies then would have lied. How shall we sing our love's song now In this strange land where all are born to die? Each tree and leaf and star show how The universe is part of this one cry, That every life is noted and cherished, And nothing loved is ever lost or perished. (p. 166)
If there's one thing I've learned in all of this, it's that I'm a messy ugly crier (not a good look for me). Seriously, though, my mom's story made me remember another one. When Sydney was maybe a year old, I decided to try my hand at gardening. She took a great interest in the day I spent digging holes and planting bulbs, following me from hole to hole and sniffing the freshly turned earth. When I came home the next day, my back still sore from all the planting, she greeted me with a mouth full of dirt, and a daffodil bulb full of tooth marks. I quickly took it from her and scolded her while I followed her out to the backyard. She pranced about proudly and picked up another bulb as I soon discovered that every single bulb I planted had been plucked out of the ground. Dirt covered the sidewalk, bulbs lay everywhere - it looked like a war scene of exploded land mines. That may have been my first clue that I would never have a green thumb, but Sydney sure did:
Oh, my, that was sweet on many levels. We are still grieving profoundly, and this poem lets us know it's okay to do so. I found the text of the poem here:
http://www.showdog-magazine.com/Poems/poem90.htm
and some history of it here:
http://www.stanleycoren.com/e_lovedogs.htm
Yes, Matt, I remember Sydney being quite taken by you, running in endless frenzied circles around you! Finn is lucky to have you!
"The poor dog, in life the firmest friend, the first to welcome, foremost to defend." George Noel Gordon, Lord Byron 1788-1824
I will miss "Sydney, Defend!"
We are sad to hear the news.
So, going forward...Aluya would love to come over and play, or eradicate any opossum or other rodent issues you may have! Such a big yard and all. ( I hope my humor attempt is well received.)
Well, today it’s been a month and still we mourn her, but I’m told we always will. Her ashes are on the mantle. It’s funny, Bill used to make fun of the fact that I would always say to people when introducing Sydney, “I picked her out when she was this big!” and then I would hold my hands up about seven inches apart. She was just a tiny little wriggling bundle of fur at two weeks old, the first one out of the dog house where her mother nursed her, chasing the tails of her brothers and sisters and chewing on my shoelaces. I thought it was adorable how smart and feisty and self-assured she was. We brought her home at six weeks old and she tried her best to rule the roost (as only a smart, feisty, self-assured Lab pup would). So at ten weeks old we took her to puppy obedience class (they should have called it puppy owner class). And then, because that wasn’t quite enough, soon after that she went to doggie obedience class. She was willful. For four years. Then she became that adorable dog I saw “when she was this big.” The older she got, the sweeter she got - never, though, losing her fondness for socks. We were a family with an unlikely (and often smelly) but no-less loved fur child. When we picked up her ashes, I held the small round tin in my hands, looked at Bill and said, “I picked her out when she was this big.”
I tried to sting together some words...thinking of you all. Love, Dunc
There's a dog we know With a thick, strong coat of yellow She imparted joy and love And, phew, heavens above Sometimes breath not so mellow
She lives not only in memories now She's always with us somehow I see her running to the door Click-click-clicking across the floor She's in every breath we take And every sound we make
And if she could talk She'd surely say "let's go for a walk" She'd thank us for the love she got For better partners in life she could ask not And after one last treat She'd drop the socks at our feet
i saw your post on Marley and Me and we too lost a day, a great dane but we still have three. I'd suggest getting another one if it's not too hard. Our puppy has been such a blessing!
32 comments:
Truly sorry for your loss, Lisa and Bill. Dogs truly are our best friends.
You should read the George Vest speech from 1870 again. William Safire called it one of the greatest speeches ever given.
"Gentlemen of the jury, the best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter whom he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us -- those whom we trust with our happiness and good name -- may become traitors in their faith. The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads. The one absolute, unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world -- the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous -- is his dog.
"Gentlemen of the jury, a man's dog stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in health and sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow, and the snow drives fiercely, if only he can be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.
"If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in its embrace, and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death."
Dear Lisa and Bill,
I am sorry your dear Sydney has left her body. I don't know how it works, but I feel she will always feel your love. The photos of her are so beautiful and moving. I feel one of the most noble things we can do on this Earth is to give a dog a good home, which you did. May you all be at peace...
Oh, Sydney. You were the coolest dog on the planet and will be missed by many.
I am so sad right now and am holding you all close in my heart.
I have two very cute pictures of Sally and Sydney from January 2003...I'll email them to you later.
xoxo
Jill
a PS... just read the George Vest speech posted above...it is so true!!!! Especialy this part:
"The one absolute, unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world -- the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous -- is his dog."
Thank you, Bret, for posting this great speech!
I'm so sorry to hear about your loss. I am one of those kindred spirits who feels as close if not closer to animals than humans.
Life is temporal and maybe one of the reasons many domestic animals have such shorter life spans than ours is so we keep that in mind and really notice the time we DO share together.
Interestingly enough I was thinking of when I met you at the Christmas party this weekend. We had a conversation about Sydney then. You are all three in my thoughts.
DK
Lisa & Bill-
I know how much you loved Sydney.
Anything you need please give us a call.
Love,
Matt & Lynn
I loved when Sydney played with the tennis ball with me. She was fun. Once she jumped on Tommy in the pool. It was funny. I miss her.
Jacob
She stole socks. She also once caught a baby bird mid-flight that she had scared out of its nest. I pried her mouth open and out it flew, unharmed. Same thing happened with a moth that zinged me between the eyes. She had the softest mouth. There are a million stories of the late great Sydney dog.
Lisa and Bill,
I am so sorry about Sydney's passing. Pets are truly members of our families and I know how important she was to your's. My thoughts and tears are with you.
Karen Whitaker
Sydney was a GREAT friend. She was very fun. I will miss her. I used to laugh when Gilby would jump on her. Aunt Lisa and Uncle Bill were really lucky to have such a great dog.
Love, Tommy
YES, she stole socks! And, she ate anything that fell on the ground, and she farted A LOT, and mostly, she LOVED Lisa and Bill completely.
Oh, and two more things, she would absolutley freak out if she didn't have her collar on and she loved to rub her self along the sides of the couches. Silly girl.
Remember the sounds of her toenails on the floors--she could never sneak up on anyone! And when she got her little head caught in her pen when she was a puppy--that was a sight to come home to!
She really did love you, Lisa and Bill. You were lucky to have her and she was so very lucky to have you.
Lisa & Bill,
So sorry for your loss
I too once had to make the same hard decision as you have. It is better for them to rest in piece. They have left our world but will never leave our hearts. Keep smiling :)
Al & the 3 J's
Lisa & Bill, When Matt called today with the news my heart sunk - Sydney...what a girl! As I shared with you on Saturday I remember snuggling up with her on Christmas night, 2001 when I was house sitting for you and she was my bed buddy - what a sweetheart (& good spooner!) She sure will be missed and we are all here for you both to share stories or if you just need a hug. Lot's of Love, Lynn, Lily, Matt & Dudley
Lisa and Bill,
Words can't even begin to do justice - I'm so sorry, I truly can't believe that our big beautiful girl is no longer physically here with you. I still remember that little ball of roly poly fur in the box in the old condo all those years ago (which doesn't seem so very long - and not long enough in human years). All my love, Dani Getrich Stang
My condolences to you and Bill, Lisa.
I didn't know Sydney, but I know that there is a circle of love in this Valley that will help you through your loss.
If you get a fraction of the love that was shown us on our recent family loss, you will feel a little better.
....a little better.
Love,
Scott "Smitty"
Love you both and we know how much you will miss Sydney. She was a gentle, loving friend, protector and true member of our family. We will remember that Sydney had a penchant for stealing almost anything..socks...panty hose...carry it around in her mouth with her eyebrows twitching...as though we couldn't tell...and bury it in the back yard hoping more would miraculously sprout up with the flowers....Memories sutain us.
Our love always, Dad and Mom
Lisa & Bill,
So sorry to hear about your loss. We're glad we got to spend some time with Syndey not too long ago.
I'll always remember her taking my socks the morning of Bill and my first 10K together in Ojai. Of course I panicked, because you can't run a race with out socks! (Or at least I can't!).
All the best to you both,
Warren & Phil
Thank you all so much for your thoughts.
This quote from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet gave me some comfort when I read it again last night:
"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."
When Sydney was about 4 years old, we had a large apricot tree in the backyard. She came into the house with those eyebrows twitching and led us to a treasure of fallen fruit. Quick on her feet, she started eating as fast as Lisa and I were picking it all up off of the ground. Completely satisfied that we had beaten her at the game, we left for the house. As we looked back we saw her.....leaping into the tree...:) Mom
From one of my favorite "tween" books, "A Ring of Endless Light" - the last line is my all time favorite:
The earth will never be the same again.
Rock, water, tree, iron share this grief
As distant stars participate in pain.
A candle snuffed, a falling star or leaf,
A (dolphin) death, O this particular loss
Is Heaven-mourned; for if no angel cried,
If this small one was tossed away as dross,
The very galaxies then would have lied.
How shall we sing our love's song now
In this strange land where all are born to die?
Each tree and leaf and star show how
The universe is part of this one cry,
That every life is noted and cherished,
And nothing loved is ever lost or perished. (p. 166)
Thinking of you and Bill and Sydney.
~J
If there's one thing I've learned in all of this, it's that I'm a messy ugly crier (not a good look for me). Seriously, though, my mom's story made me remember another one. When Sydney was maybe a year old, I decided to try my hand at gardening. She took a great interest in the day I spent digging holes and planting bulbs, following me from hole to hole and sniffing the freshly turned earth. When I came home the next day, my back still sore from all the planting, she greeted me with a mouth full of dirt, and a daffodil bulb full of tooth marks. I quickly took it from her and scolded her while I followed her out to the backyard. She pranced about proudly and picked up another bulb as I soon discovered that every single bulb I planted had been plucked out of the ground. Dirt covered the sidewalk, bulbs lay everywhere - it looked like a war scene of exploded land mines. That may have been my first clue that I would never have a green thumb, but Sydney sure did:
http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk22/findingojai/gardening.jpg
Lis,
Thanks for the link to Sydney's baby album. That must've been hard to do.
I met her when she was 4, so I'd only seen a few baby pictures. What a cutie!
I fondly remember Sydney at your first house in north San Diego - a young, blonde puppy tearing around the yard, ready to play.
You may not be ready to view this yet, I am reminded of the following link.
http://technorati.com/videos/youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DqUNJjIwlHk8
We have a young golden retriever now (8 months - named Finn).
Oh, my, that was sweet on many levels. We are still grieving profoundly, and this poem lets us know it's okay to do so. I found the text of the poem here:
http://www.showdog-magazine.com/Poems/poem90.htm
and some history of it here:
http://www.stanleycoren.com/e_lovedogs.htm
Yes, Matt, I remember Sydney being quite taken by you, running in endless frenzied circles around you! Finn is lucky to have you!
"The poor dog, in life the firmest friend, the first to welcome, foremost to defend."
George Noel Gordon, Lord Byron
1788-1824
I will miss "Sydney, Defend!"
We are sad to hear the news.
So, going forward...Aluya would love to come over and play, or eradicate any opossum or other rodent issues you may have! Such a big yard and all. ( I hope my humor attempt is well received.)
Ken and Karen Clench
Well, today it’s been a month and still we mourn her, but I’m told we always will. Her ashes are on the mantle. It’s funny, Bill used to make fun of the fact that I would always say to people when introducing Sydney, “I picked her out when she was this big!” and then I would hold my hands up about seven inches apart. She was just a tiny little wriggling bundle of fur at two weeks old, the first one out of the dog house where her mother nursed her, chasing the tails of her brothers and sisters and chewing on my shoelaces. I thought it was adorable how smart and feisty and self-assured she was. We brought her home at six weeks old and she tried her best to rule the roost (as only a smart, feisty, self-assured Lab pup would). So at ten weeks old we took her to puppy obedience class (they should have called it puppy owner class). And then, because that wasn’t quite enough, soon after that she went to doggie obedience class. She was willful. For four years. Then she became that adorable dog I saw “when she was this big.” The older she got, the sweeter she got - never, though, losing her fondness for socks. We were a family with an unlikely (and often smelly) but no-less loved fur child. When we picked up her ashes, I held the small round tin in my hands, looked at Bill and said, “I picked her out when she was this big.”
Oh Lisa. I just read this and you made me cry. Damn you. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you, Bill, and your fur child.
I tried to sting together some words...thinking of you all. Love, Dunc
There's a dog we know
With a thick, strong coat of yellow
She imparted joy and love
And, phew, heavens above
Sometimes breath not so mellow
She lives not only in memories now
She's always with us somehow
I see her running to the door
Click-click-clicking across the floor
She's in every breath we take
And every sound we make
And if she could talk
She'd surely say "let's go for a walk"
She'd thank us for the love she got
For better partners in life she could ask not
And after one last treat
She'd drop the socks at our feet
And take our leashes off.
i saw your post on Marley and Me and we too lost a day, a great dane but we still have three. I'd suggest getting another one if it's not too hard. Our puppy has been such a blessing!
Remembering today and always...
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