Remembering Apache

Standard

Over a week ago, we lost the last of our big guys, Apache, the Lab-golden retriever mix.

A swApache2eet boy, he was part of a litter we raised for New Horizons Service dogs, but unfortunately, he didn’t pan out for the program and we were offered the option of adopting him. We quickly accepted.

He became known as puppy, moose, or puppy wupper, because as sweet as he was, Apache wasn’t the brightest bulb on the planet, either. That didn’t deter from the fact that he became a much loved member of our household for the past twelve years.

Now, he’s crossed over the Rainbow Bridge where I’m sure his buddy, Scudder, and his momma, Holly, we waiting to greet him. Hopefully, there’s a soccer ball up there waiting for him to chase down and all the yard nuggets he could ever want.

RIP my dear walking companion.

Advertisements

One thought on “Remembering Apache

  1. Leahl-s

    Jon, I am so sorry for your loss. My husband and I recently had one of our furrpersons depart. Our last Aby, Tinker the Terrorist. He was one of those cats that got into trouble and had that devil may care attitude. I guess all of them leave with a piece of our hearts, only to be made whole when we join them. Recently, Tad found the below words that summed things up.

    Take care. Leah

    If it should be that I grow weak and pain should keep me from my sleep; then you must do what must be done, for this last battle can’t be won. You will be sad, I understand but don’t let grief then stay you hand. For this day more than all the rest, your love for me must stand the test. We’ve had so many happy years; what is to come can hold no fears. You don’t want me to suffer so the time has come, please let me go. Take me where my needs they’ll tend. But please stay with me ’til the end to hold me close and speak to me until my eyes no longer see. I know in time you will agree, it was a kindness done for me although my tail its last has waved, from pain and suffering I’m saved. Please do not grieve that it was you who had this painful thing to do. We’ve been so close these years; don’t let your heart hold any tears.

    >

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s