This is the fourth goodbye I’ve had to say since March of 2008.  It’s sad.  First, Charlie, my best friend from my morning jog.  And then Ishka, Jamie’s best pal, whom I only got to know a little.  And then Okie-Dokie, the wonderfull black cat who taught me more than I wanted to know about cats.  And, now, Samantha, Jamie’s best friend from Puppy Kindergarten.

Samantha was a lovely black lab.  She and Jamie got along really great right from the start.  I wasn’t there to know this; Jamie tells me from her special swimming and frisbee-retrieving place in doggie heaven.  Jamie liked Samantha a lot.  So did Barbara and Fred.  Actually, it was Samantha’s skill as a frisbee dog that prompted Fred to work so much, with me, on catching our “Chuckit” flying squirrel toy.

Samantha served as a therapy dog, visiting nursing homes in the San Fernando Valley, so she spent a lot of time cheering people up.  Goodbye, Samantha; Jamie and I will miss you.

Fred’s favorite web site for people who have lost their pets is the collection of poems at petloss.com.  Clink on this to see it.

His favorite, by Rudyard Kipling, is “Dinah Goes to Heaven.”

She did not know that she was dead
But, when the pang was o’er,
Sat down to wait her Master’s tread
Upon the Golden Floor,

With ears full-cock and anxious eyes,
Impatiently resigned;
But ignorant that Paradise
Did not admit her kind.

There was one step along the Stair
That led to Heaven’s Gate;
And, till she heard it, her affair
Was — she explained — to wait.

And she explained with flattened ear,
Bared lip and milky tooth–
Storming against Ithuriel’s Spear
That only proved her truth!

Sudden — far down the Bridge of Ghosts
That anxious spirits clomb–
She caught that step in all the hosts,
And knew that he had come.

She left them wondering what to do,
But not a doubt had she.
Swifter than her own squeal she flew
Across the Glassy Sea;

Flushing the Cherubs everywhere,
And skidding as she ran,
She refuged under Peter’s Chair
And waited for her man.

There spoke a Spirit out of the press,
‘Said: — “Have you any here
That saved a fool from drunkenness,
And a coward from his fear?

“That turned a soul from dark to day
When other help was vain;
That snatched it from Wanhope and made
A cur a man again?”

“Enter and look,” said Peter then,
And set the Gate ajar.
“If I know aught of women and men
I trow she is not far.”

“Neither by virtue, speech nor art
Nor hope of grace to win;
But godless innocence of heart
That never heard of sin:

“Neither by beauty nor belief
Nor white example shown.
Something a wanton — more a thief –
But — most of all — mine own.”

“Enter and look,” said Peter then,
“And send you well to speed;
But, for all that I know of women and men
Your riddle is hard to read.”

Then flew Dinah from under the Chair,
Into his arms she flew –
And licked his face from chin to hair
And Peter passed them through!

I just lost my best animal friend — Okie-Dokie, the black cat.  She was just fine a few days ago, but then she had some serious kidney problems, and within a few days she was gone.  Poor Okie-Dokie.  She was a good pal to me — after teaching me some dog-cat manners.  I’ll miss her a lot.  I guess, though, that her 17 years were pretty good cat years.

Okie-Dokie adopted Fred and Barbara about 10 years ago.  She just showed up one day, in the front yard, hunting for gophers, a few of which had migrated across the street from the golf course.  She hunted gophers for a few days, and then she started to check out the front doorstep.  Eventually, Fred and Barbara put out some cat food, which the strange black cat gobbled down.  Next, she started to explore the inside of her house.  All in all, it took Okie-Dokie about two weeks to decide to adopt Fred and Barbara.

A few years earlier, Fred and Barbara had dinner at a restaurant in Cabo San Luca, Mexico, where their waiter was just always saying “Okie-Dokie.”  “Okie-Dokie, I’ll bring you another Pacifico.”  “Okie-Dokie, your enchiladas are coming right up!”  So they decided that they would name their next cat “Okie-Dokie.”

A few years later, Fred and Barbara learned the true story about Okie-Dokie.  Okie-Dokie, who was originally named Maxine, was a ferel cat that had been adopted by a  young couple that lived a few blocks away from Fred and Barbara.  When the couple had their second baby, Okie-Dokie decided she wasn’t getting enough attention, so she started scouting for a new place to live.  It turns out that some of the couple’s neighbors saw this happening, but Fred and Barbara didn’t learn about it for several years.

When Okie-Dokie adopted Fred and Barbara, Jamie (my predecessor Golden Retriever) was about two years old (which is what I am now!).  Here’s a photograph from “My Doggie Says… Messages from Jamie,” that shows Okie-Dokie and Jamie having their daily afternoon nap in the hallway.

When I arrived at Fred and Barbara’s house almost two years ago, Okie-Dokie was about 15 years old.  At first, Okie and I didn’t get along very well.  I was a fluffy little puppy, and I kept thinking Okie-Dokie would want to play with me.  But everytime I jumped at her, she swatted my nose.  I finally learned that Okie-Dokie was in charge and that we could play on her terms, not mine.  We didn’t actually “play” a lot, but we got to be very good friends.  We enjoyed sniffing noses.  Sometimes, Okie-Dokie would lick my face, or my coat.  Sometimes I would lick Okie-Dokie’s fur.  We never shared a nap in the hallway, like Jamie and Okie-Dokie, but recently we napped a lot on the futon in Fred’s office.  Sometimes, I used Okie-Dokie like a pillow.  She seemed to like that.

So that makes three really good pals I’ve lost in my two, young years.  Charlie, my Golden Retriever friend that I used to see on my morning jog.  And then Ishka, Karen’s (Fred and Barbara’s daughter) Golden Retriever.  And now Okie-Dokie.  Okie-Dokie is the toughest to deal with, because I spent time with her every day.  I’ve been making up for the loss of Okie-Dokie by spending lots more time with “Stinky,” my one-half stuffed puppy security object.  I don’t know what I’d do without “Stinky.”

Fred says losing a pet is really hard for people, too.  They love their pets very much, and it’s hard for them to understand that dogs and cats just don’t live as long as people usually do.  Here’s a collection of poems that have given Fred and Barbara lots of comfort when they’ve lost pets.

Goodbye, Okie-Dokie.  You were a great cat and a great pal, and I’ll always love you.

Callie

Hi! Callie here (short for “Woodlands Callaway Hole-In-One”). I have some really sad news to report and a heartfelt doggie goodbye to say.

I met Ishka when I was about ten weeks old. I’m eighteen months old now, so that was about a year and a half ago, and Ishka, also a Golden Retriever, would have been about thirteen years old — getting up there for a Golden Retriever. Ishka was an old dog, and I was a young one. I learned pretty fast that Ishka didn’t want to romp and wrestle with me. When I tried to get her to play, she just looked the other way. Sometimes she walked away.

But Ishka and I got to be good friends, once I quit trying to make her tussle with me. I think I cheered her up in her old age, and I know she helped me grow more mature as a puppy. Sometimes, I presented my special “Stinky” (stuffed puppy security object) to Ishka. She never took it, but she acknowledged the gift, and I know she appreciated it.

Ishka (short for “uisce beatha,” Gaelic for “whiskey” or “water of life.”) was one of the heroines of “My Doggie Says… Messages from Jamie,” the book that Fred wrote about Jamie. Ishka and Jamie met when they were eight-week-old puppies in 1994. Ishka belonged to Fred & Barbara’s daughter, Karen. Ishka and Jamie loved to play together, rolling around on the lawn or into the bushes. And wrestling for hours and hours. They were best friends until Jamie left us in December, 2006. (I was born in January, 2007, so I never met Jamie.  I just learned about her communication skills by reading “My Doggie Says…”)

Here, from “My Doggie Says…” is a picture of Jamie and Ishka wrestling together. Jamie is the lighter dog on the left; Ishka is the darker dog on the right.

And here are Jamie and Ishka sitting at the top of the stairs at Lake Arrowhead, their positions reversed.

Ishka has had some arthritis problems, so it’s been very difficult, almost impossible, for her to walk lately.

A few weeks ago, she stayed at my house, while Karen and her fiance, Chris, did some traveling. I think she really enjoyed having me around; some of the old sparkle returned to her eyes. A few times, she even got up and moved (which was very hard for her to do) so she could be close to me. When I was in my training crate, Ishka often sat down right outside it. I really liked helping her feel better.

But her health problems caught up with her, and last week she went to doggie heaven, where I know she and Jamie are romping around and enjoying being together again.

Goodbye, Ishka. I know Jamie really loved you, and I did, too. Thanks for sharing a small part of your life with me.

Love,

Callie

P.S. Whether you’re a person or a doggie, here’s a wonderful web site that will help you deal with the loss of a pet: www.petloss.com. Fred especially likes the collection of 100 poems, including several by Rudyard Kipling, that express the feelings of authors who lost their beloved pets. It’s at http://www.petloss.com/poems/poems.htm