Newbies: save your caustic comments. They are beneath you.

Old farts: You were there when Dusty Wings, resident Dal, flew the
coop. You were there when we brought in Ariadne Auf Nachoes, new
resident Dal, who has now departed. Now, alas, her friend Holly
Golightly, resident Husky, is riddled with adenosarcoma and her days
are limited. Her treats are slices of home-smoked sausage with
tramadol tablets inside. Vet has sliced her frequently, deep and
continuos, but there is no containing the C-beast.

If I have been overly sarcastic or immoderately testy (beyond my usual
testiness), I offer my apologies.

I guess no more need be said. Thanks for your support in the past. All
things pass, including us.

Alex

Lord, if there is any good thing I can do, let me do it now, for I may
not pass this way again.... (author unknown)

On 7/29/2011 2:57 PM, Chemiker wrote:


> Holly
> Golightly, resident Husky, is riddled with adenosarcoma and her days
> are limited. Her treats are slices of home-smoked sausage with
> tramadol tablets inside. Vet has sliced her frequently, deep and
> continuos, but there is no containing the C-beast.
>
> If I have been overly sarcastic or immoderately testy (beyond my usual
> testiness), I offer my apologies.
>
> I guess no more need be said. Thanks for your support in the past. All
> things pass, including us.
>


Please don't let her suffer. Pets deserve to die with dignity, too.

gloria p

"Chemiker" > wrote in message
...
> Newbies: save your caustic comments. They are beneath you.
>
> Old farts: You were there when Dusty Wings, resident Dal, flew the
> coop. You were there when we brought in Ariadne Auf Nachoes, new
> resident Dal, who has now departed. Now, alas, her friend Holly
> Golightly, resident Husky, is riddled with adenosarcoma and her days
> are limited. Her treats are slices of home-smoked sausage with
> tramadol tablets inside. Vet has sliced her frequently, deep and
> continuos, but there is no containing the C-beast.
>
> If I have been overly sarcastic or immoderately testy (beyond my usual
> testiness), I offer my apologies.
>
> I guess no more need be said. Thanks for your support in the past. All
> things pass, including us.
>
> Alex
>
> Lord, if there is any good thing I can do, let me do it now, for I may
> not pass this way again.... (author unknown)


You have my deepest sympathy. We who love and care for animals do all we
can to make their last days their best and their easiest.

Jill

In article >,
Omelet > wrote:

> In article >,
> Chemiker > wrote:
>
> > Newbies: save your caustic comments. They are beneath you.
> >
> > Old farts: You were there when Dusty Wings, resident Dal, flew the
> > coop. You were there when we brought in Ariadne Auf Nachoes, new
> > resident Dal, who has now departed. Now, alas, her friend Holly
> > Golightly, resident Husky, is riddled with adenosarcoma and her days
> > are limited. Her treats are slices of home-smoked sausage with
> > tramadol tablets inside. Vet has sliced her frequently, deep and
> > continuos, but there is no containing the C-beast.
> >
> > If I have been overly sarcastic or immoderately testy (beyond my usual
> > testiness), I offer my apologies.
> >
> > I guess no more need be said. Thanks for your support in the past. All
> > things pass, including us.
> >
> > Alex
> >
> > Lord, if there is any good thing I can do, let me do it now, for I may
> > not pass this way again.... (author unknown)
>
> Love her while you can... and at least you have a chance to say goodbye.
> I feel for ya!
>
> <hugs>

What she said. And please give Ms Golightly an ear-skritch from me.

Miche

--
Electricians do it in three phases

Chemiker > wrote in
:

> Newbies: save your caustic comments. They are beneath you.
>
> Old farts: You were there when Dusty Wings, resident Dal, flew the
> coop. You were there when we brought in Ariadne Auf Nachoes, new
> resident Dal, who has now departed. Now, alas, her friend Holly
> Golightly, resident Husky, is riddled with adenosarcoma and her days
> are limited. Her treats are slices of home-smoked sausage with
> tramadol tablets inside. Vet has sliced her frequently, deep and
> continuos, but there is no containing the C-beast.
>
> If I have been overly sarcastic or immoderately testy (beyond my usual
> testiness), I offer my apologies.
>
> I guess no more need be said. Thanks for your support in the past. All
> things pass, including us.
>



****er :-(

And I agree with Gloria.P...... don't let her suffer.

Give her a goodly chunk of sausage from me, and Kyna.


--
Peter Lucas
Hobart
Tasmania

Nothing ever truely dies
the Universe wastes nothing
everything is simply... transformed

I may have posted this on a past occasion, not sure. But even though Ms. Holly
isn't a Dal, it still applies:

--------------------------------------------

THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT
OF AN EXTREMELY DISTINGUISHED DOG

by Eugene O'Neill
1940

I, SILVERDENE EMBLEM O'NEILL (familiarly known to my family, friends, and
acquaintances as Blemie), because the burden of my years and infirmities is
heavy upon me, and I realize the end of my life is near, do hereby bury my
last will and testament in the mind of my Master. He will not know it is
there until after I am dead. Then, remembering me in his loneliness,
he will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask him then to inscribe it as a
memorial to me.

I have little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are wiser than
men. They do not set great store upon things. They do not waste their days
hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about how to keep
the objects they have, and to obtain the objects they have not. There is
nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my faith. These I
leave to all those who have loved me, to my Master and Mistress, who I know
will mourn me most, to Freeman who has been so good to me, to Cyn and Roy
and Willie and Naomi and -- But if I should list all those who have loved
me, it would force my Master to write a book. Perhaps it is vain of me to
boast when I am so near death, which returns all beasts and vanities to
dust, but I have always been an extremely lovable dog.

I ask my Master and Mistress to remember me always, but not to grieve for me
too long. In my life I have tried to be a comfort to them in time of sorrow,
and a reason for added joy in their happiness. It is painful for me to think
that even in death I should cause them pain. Let them remember that while no
dog has ever had a happier life (and this I owe to their love and care for
me), now that I have grown blind and deaf and lame, and even my sense of
smell fails me so that a rabbit could be right under my nose and I might not
know, my pride has sunk to a sick, bewildered humiliation. I feel life is
taunting me with having over-lingered my welcome. It is time I said
good-bye, before I become too sick a burden on myself and on those who love
me. It will be sorrow to leave them, but not a sorrow to die. Dogs do not
fear death as men do. We accept it as part of life, not as something alien
and terrible which destroys life. What may come after death, who knows? I
would like to believe with those my fellow Dalmatians who are devote
Mohammedans, that there is a Paradise where one is always young and
full-bladdered; where all the day one dillies and dallies with an amorous
multitude of houris [lovely nymphs], beautifully spotted; where jack rabbits
that run fast but not too fast (like the houris) are as the sands of the
desert; where each blissful hour is mealtime; where in long evenings there
are a million fireplaces with logs forever burning, and one curls oneself up
and blinks into the flames and nods and dreams, remembering the old brave
days on earth, and the love of one's Master and Mistress.

I am afraid this is too much for even such a dog as I am to expect. But
peace, at least, is certain. Peace and long rest for weary old heart and
head and limbs, and eternal sleep in the earth I have loved so well.
Perhaps, after all, this is best.

One last request I earnestly make. I have heard my Mistress say, "When
Blemie dies we must never have another dog. I love him so much I could never
love another one." Now I would ask her, for love of me, to have another. It
would be a poor tribute to my memory never to have a dog again. What I would
like to feel is that, having once had me in the family, now she cannot live
without a dog! I have never had a narrow jealous spirit. I have always held
that most dogs are good (and one cat, the black one I have permitted to
share the living room rug during the evenings, whose affection I have
tolerated in a kindly spirit, and in rare sentimental moods, even
reciprocated a trifle). Some dogs, of course, are better than others.
Dalmatians, naturally, as everyone knows, are best. So I suggest a Dalmatian
as my successor. He can hardly be as well bred or as well mannered or as
distinguished and handsome as I was in my prime. My Master and Mistress must
not ask the impossible. But he will do his best, I am sure, and even his
inevitable defects will help by comparison to keep my memory green. To him I
bequeath my collar and leash and my overcoat and raincoat, made to order in
1929 at Hermes in Paris. He can never wear them with the distinction I did,
walking around the Place Vendome, or later along Park Avenue, all eyes fixed
on me in admiration; but again I am sure he will do his utmost not to appear
a mere gauche provincial dog. Here on the ranch, he may prove himself quite
worthy of comparison, in some respects. He will, I presume, come closer to
jack rabbits than I have been able to in recent years.

And for all his faults, I hereby wish him the happiness I know will be his
in my old home.

One last word of farewell, Dear Master and Mistress. Whenever you visit my
grave, say to yourselves with regret but also with happiness in your hearts
at the remembrance of my long happy life with you: "Here lies one who loved
us and whom we loved." No matter how deep my sleep I shall hear you, and not
all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail.

---------------------------------------

My sympathies.

-- Larry

On Jul 29, 4:57*pm, Chemiker > wrote:
> Newbies: save your caustic comments. They are beneath you.
>
> Old farts: You *were there when Dusty Wings, resident Dal, flew the
> coop. You were there when we brought in Ariadne Auf Nachoes, new
> resident Dal, who has now departed. Now, alas, her friend Holly
> Golightly, resident Husky, is riddled with adenosarcoma and her days
> are limited. Her treats are slices of home-smoked sausage with
> tramadol tablets inside. Vet has sliced her frequently, deep and
> continuos, but there is no containing the C-beast.
>
> If I have been overly sarcastic or immoderately testy (beyond my usual
> testiness), I offer my apologies.
>
> I guess no more need be said. Thanks for your support in the past. All
> things pass, including us.
>
> Alex
>
> Lord, if there is any good thing I can do, let me do it now, for I may
> not pass this way again.... (author unknown)

So sorry, It is so hard to do the last loving thing we can for our fur
kids. Ehugs to you.

Chemiker wrote:
> Newbies: save your caustic comments. They are beneath you.
>
> Old farts: You were there when Dusty Wings, resident Dal, flew the
> coop. You were there when we brought in Ariadne Auf Nachoes, new
> resident Dal, who has now departed. Now, alas, her friend Holly
> Golightly, resident Husky, is riddled with adenosarcoma and her days
> are limited. Her treats are slices of home-smoked sausage with
> tramadol tablets inside. Vet has sliced her frequently, deep and
> continuos, but there is no containing the C-beast.
>
> If I have been overly sarcastic or immoderately testy (beyond my usual
> testiness), I offer my apologies.
>
> I guess no more need be said. Thanks for your support in the past. All
> things pass, including us.
>
> Alex
>
> Lord, if there is any good thing I can do, let me do it now, for I may
> not pass this way again.... (author unknown)

I'm very sorry to hear this, Alex. The Rainbow Bridge is a
comforting thought.

--
Jean B.