Sisco 4777

4/9/19  Sisco went over the Bridge. She was a spunky 10-12 year old girl. Her owner died and she was left in a shelter when VGSR brought her into rescue. She was deaf and had many medical issues which ultimately could not be overcome. Her time in her foster home brought her lots of love, car rides, short walks and fetch games with a Kong. She was happy again.

Stonewall 2307

In Memory of ‘Stonewall’ (VGSR 2307)     23 Aug 2006 – 5 July 2019

 

            It took a while to get over our last shepherd (the kind of heartbreak GSD owners know so well).   When we were finally ready for another, by happenstance we found you with that ‘Big Orange Head’.   Admittedly we stalked you for a little while, trying to figure out the logistics of bringing you home and waiting on the application process, wondering if you’d still be available by then.  A call from VGSR assured us that you were. Road trip to Manassas Virginia!

            When you bumbled into our home there was no mistaking the new guy.  You asserted yourself by eating momma’s chocolate cake right off the coffee table in one swift gulp and then assumed your rightful favorite spot by the couch --- on the first night.  Oh that innocent smile and those floppy jowls.  You know what you did!!  For the next three and a half years, it would be a family made whole again by your goofy presence and curiosity.  However, we could have done without that speed-dating behavior you showed early on (that was a little awkward sometimes).

            Our introduction was “There is not a mean bone in his body!”  That was absolutely correct.  You were a friend to all you encountered; when you felt like getting up.  With the appropriate scratch of the chest we could make your nose go straight up like a rocket.  Your unique way of kissing a face with your whole mouth (canines included) was a little unsettling to all first encounters,  be we became accustomed to it; mothers of children not so much.  What a goofball.  With zero prey drive, you were an easy guy to manage in our fenceless yard.  Our ‘great stone guardian’ of the back yard, where furry critters bounded around under your watch; with your forelegs crossed of course. The rabbits and squirrels will miss you so.  The ‘silent sentry’ was friend to all passerby even (gulp*) – the postal workers.  By silent we mean you also never barked – at anybody; inside the house or out.  Well except maybe at us once a month or so, just to see if that thing still worked.  You know that could be quite alarming when we weren’t expecting it!

            Our biggest regret was our inability to keep you healthy.  Despite our countless trips to the vet and the dermatologist, the special diets, multiple medications and shots, the best we could do was to calm the big waves.  Every day was a challenge to prevent them from reoccurring.  Rest assured we threw the kitchen sink at those infirmities (we have the bills to prove it); we just could not eliminate them.  How we cleaned those recurrent ear infections - almost every day; and how they hurt you so.  Yet you were so tolerant of all the interventions and the caregiving staffs.  Despite the pain and discomfort, you managed to make us smile until the end; when we just couldn’t see you suffer any longer.  You were such a stoic ol’ boy.

I can’t say we’ll miss those one block/hour walks because you HAD to smell everything everywhere at every step.  “Stonewall you’re killing me man” was what you would have heard had you not lost your hearing.  But your sense of smell saved the day when the neighbor’s house caught on fire.  If not for your big nose and stubborn persistence, no one would have stopped to look up.  Sure enough, there was smoke from the eves of the house. Here is the link:

https://www.cantonrep.com/news/20160215/did-dog-start-canton-kitchen-fire

            We will miss: your big droopy lips (not so much all the water that spilled from them after drinking), your spontaneous gas (just not the odor), the way you used your big head to ram the doors in the house open when you wanted to be wherever we were at every moment -- including the bathroom toilet – (the ‘shower appearances’ could be a little startling however especially to our house guests), and the aforementioned toothy kisses.  It was all just part of your charm.  You were indiscriminately affectionate; warm and friendly without prejudice.  What a great ambassador you were.  We are grateful for your accompaniment on all of our family journeys; sitting on your homemade throne.  We are most grateful for the opportunity to accompany you, on our road trip out west through the Dakotas and Wyoming.  You deserved that!  Laughingly, we lost count of all the times we heard “Is that a wolf?”, “Can we pet your dog?”, “He is so gentle” and (our favorite) “WOW, your dog is ORANGE!”  Stonewall – friend to all.  You were so tolerant.  You weren’t just going to the attractions; you were the attraction!

            Alas our ‘Big Orange Head’ is gone; our hiking companion, our rescuer, our ‘Good Will Ambassador’, our napping buddy, our patient.  You overlook our living room from the mantle now, looking down on your favorite spot.  Though you remain with us in spirit, your massive presence will be forever missed.  You were everything that is good in the soul of a dog.  That you were a German Shepherd Dog made it that much more special.  We didn’t rescue you.  You rescued us!

            We would like to thank Virginia German Shepherd Rescue for trusting us your care in the last years of your life.  We have fulfilled our promise.

Charles & Kumi Day
 

 

 

Sunshine 3370

RIP 1/30/08 - 4/12/13
Sunshine was an owner surrender with some medical issues. She passed in her sleep while in foster care. 

Wolf
Wolf came to us as hospice care....he could barely walk. We took him in to give him a good nights sleep, good food and love before he went to rainbow bridge. He surprised us and continued to regain strength and stamina so we HAD to adopt him! he was a wonderful dog who was lacking in love in his prior home but fit in very well with us! He had a wonderful 8 months with us before we had to say goodbye to him at Rainbow Bridge....we miss him very much!

Yogi

A onetime malnourished stray who once ran loose in Prince Georges County, Md., Yogi went on to touch hundreds of lives in his role as a therapy dog, comforting both victims of violence and abuse, as well as those evacuated from the devastation of Hurricane Katrina.

Yogi, a German shepherd who was estimated to be about 7, died Jan. 28 (2008) in the arms of his caretaker, John Streeter, after a short bout with cancer.

Yogi was dogged in his love for people, and in his role as a therapy dog at a women’s center. Starting in 2002 Yogi helped women, men and children recover from their experience of sexual assault, domestic violence, incest and childhood abuse and neglect.

Yogi gave people love and showed people there was love and good still left in the world. He loved people unconditionally and that is new for a lot of people.

Yogi was adopted the dog from the Virginia German Shepherd Rescue when he had been placed there after being taken into custody by animal control officers in Prince Georges County. When Yogi was picked up he was malnourished, with his ribs showing and his hair was dull and dirty.

In 2005, Yogi was part of the American Red Cross Disaster Mental Health team, enduring 16-hour shifts in the heat for more than two weeks at Camp Dawson near Morgantown to assist the more than 350 evacuees of Hurricane Katrina and Red Cross workers deal with the day-to-day stress of recovery efforts.

Yogi was also a member of the Mass-Call Critical Incident Stress Management Canine Team, a Massachusetts-based firefighter organization that assists first responders in dealing with their job-related stresses. He was also a member of Animal Assisted Crisis Response, a national organization that utilizes canines to bring comfort to those who have experienced trauma in disasters.

His last day on the job at the women’s center was difficult for clients.

On his last working day at the Women’s Center, in spite of pain and discomfort, he happily went to work and came home with a wet head from the tears of clients and staff that said their goodbyes.

Staff and clients of the Women’s Center said Yogi’s passing has been a “tremendous loss.”

Today an urn with Yogi’s ashes, his working vest and collar, rest in his bed at Streeter’s home.

Yogi was always glad to don his work vest, even to the end.

In spite of not being able to eat, being uncomfortable and groggy from painkillers, he happily wagged his tail when he put on his work vest for the last time.

“We worked together, we lived together and we played together. I really miss him.”

John Streeter