Pam
05-31-2003, 02:56 PM
I just had to pass this on to my fellow Pet Talkers. It sure brought the tears to my eyes. It came from Pet Warmers, a site that many of us subscribe to. Each day or so a new story arrives in our mailboxes. If you are interested, just go to Petwarmers.com. Now you'd better get out the tissues. It really is a beautiful story.
WINNIE AND POO
by Bob Shaw
I've always enjoyed living in a small town with a close neighborhood.
There's always a friend to talk to, and you usually knew most of your
neighbors and their dogs on a first name basis.
Winnie was a little gray haired lady that lived just down the street
from us. She had a small white Poodle she called Poo.
She'd been widowed for several years and her children had moved out of
the state, leaving her and Poo to look after each other.
Our local veterinarian was someone I usually saw only once or twice a
year. That day, I'd taken our Collie, Duke, in for his annual checkup and
shots, and saw Winnie and Poo through the office window in the examining
room. The receptionist let me go through to see them, and I found out that
Poo had been diagnosed with cancer. Her health had been declining for some
time, and after painful consideration, Winnie had brought her in. They'd
been together for over thirteen years.
After some preparations, we went to a small room in back of the
office, and Poo was given the injection. With tears running down her face,
Winnie slowly rubbed her little head, talking softly, and telling her that
her momma loved her -- that someday, they'd be together again.
In what seemed like a final gesture of unconditional love, Poo reached
up and licked her hand. Moments later, she closed her little eyes, and
went to sleep.
The room was so quiet, and not a dry eye in it. I put my hand on
Winnie's shoulder, and asked if I could help and take Poo to the car for
her. With all her strength and dignity, she smiled and said no -- this was
a journey they needed to make together.
The vet gently placed her in her arms, and led her to the door. Very
gently, she placed her Poo on the seat beside her, and took her home.
It was nearly four months later and I'd almost put the incident out of
my mind, when we received word that Winnie had passed away. I was saddened
by the news, but smiled at the thought of Winnie and her precious Poo,
together again.
Just on the other side of "here" is a Rainbow, and a Bridge -- a place
where loved ones are reunited, where there's no tears, no pain, and good
bye will never have to be heard again.
WINNIE AND POO
by Bob Shaw
I've always enjoyed living in a small town with a close neighborhood.
There's always a friend to talk to, and you usually knew most of your
neighbors and their dogs on a first name basis.
Winnie was a little gray haired lady that lived just down the street
from us. She had a small white Poodle she called Poo.
She'd been widowed for several years and her children had moved out of
the state, leaving her and Poo to look after each other.
Our local veterinarian was someone I usually saw only once or twice a
year. That day, I'd taken our Collie, Duke, in for his annual checkup and
shots, and saw Winnie and Poo through the office window in the examining
room. The receptionist let me go through to see them, and I found out that
Poo had been diagnosed with cancer. Her health had been declining for some
time, and after painful consideration, Winnie had brought her in. They'd
been together for over thirteen years.
After some preparations, we went to a small room in back of the
office, and Poo was given the injection. With tears running down her face,
Winnie slowly rubbed her little head, talking softly, and telling her that
her momma loved her -- that someday, they'd be together again.
In what seemed like a final gesture of unconditional love, Poo reached
up and licked her hand. Moments later, she closed her little eyes, and
went to sleep.
The room was so quiet, and not a dry eye in it. I put my hand on
Winnie's shoulder, and asked if I could help and take Poo to the car for
her. With all her strength and dignity, she smiled and said no -- this was
a journey they needed to make together.
The vet gently placed her in her arms, and led her to the door. Very
gently, she placed her Poo on the seat beside her, and took her home.
It was nearly four months later and I'd almost put the incident out of
my mind, when we received word that Winnie had passed away. I was saddened
by the news, but smiled at the thought of Winnie and her precious Poo,
together again.
Just on the other side of "here" is a Rainbow, and a Bridge -- a place
where loved ones are reunited, where there's no tears, no pain, and good
bye will never have to be heard again.