In Memoriam Page 4.

Fleur If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die, I want to go where they went.

Will Rogers. 1879 - 1935.

My beloved Fleur. I only had you about 15 months, I will remember you for a lifetime. God bless the angel which you were. XXX.
I would rather see the portrait of a dog that I know, than all the allegorical paintings they can show me in the world.

Samuel Johnson.

Sparkie
 Sparkie died 11th April 2005
Sparkie was a big dog with a big personality. I only had the privilidge of being his human for fourteen months, but in that time hardly a day went by that he didn't make me laugh at his antics. Run free at the bridge big man, until we meet again------Frances.
AmberWendy
Amber. When my soul runs free, please be there.Our lovely Wendy who died 10 September 2004. Wait for us with the others Wendy, until we meet again------Marilyn & John.
MosesOdin
Moses, died November 2004.Moses only had a few months with us after being rescued before passing on to rainbow bridge. Odin. He died mysteriously in his sleep in November 2004. Odin and Moses were both Pat Grahams' dogs.
Friends
Emma, Herbie and Lacey reunited at Rainbow Bridge. Wait for me my precious ones, until we meet again.------ Frances.

I lie on my side. I am dying.
A female blue-brindle Greyhound,
Living to run.
Speed was my gift from the gods.
The gift, a headlong dash to death.
Once I dreamed of running in an open field.
No muzzle, no pain, running freely.
I am in a field now.
Eighteen acres of death.
The bullet was meant for my brain.
To be a quick death. Painless.
The bullet entered my neck.
The pain rages, when will it end?
Will there be another bullet to speed my death?
No. Bullets are not to be wasted on dogs.
We were dollar signs.
Hurtling down the track.
Together a flash of colors:
Brindle, blue, black, red, white, fawn.
I was too slow to last.
Too slow to make it to age two.
A throw-away life.
When death comes I will not be alone.
There are scores of us. Thousands.
Brindle, blue, black, red, white, fawn.
We, who never knew an open field,
Have found our own field.
It is soaked with our blood.
Once I dreamed of being held in someone's arms.
Caressed, petted, loved.
All dreams are ended now in this field.
The darkness is taking me over.
Lime is thrown on my defeated, discarded body,
My heart howls out ...
Let my dying matter,
Let my dying be the last.
The light dims out.
Remember, remember, remember.

by Juliet Law Packer.

Page 5.