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And not even death can destroy that.
This is the "urn" I received from the vet's 9 years ago when my beagle, Jake, was put to sleep. I was 17 years old. Jake was the very first "real" pet I've ever had. I had cats, and hamsters, and all kinds of small animals, but Jake was MINE. From the time I could comprehend life, all I ever wanted was a dog. All I talked about to my mom was getting a dog. Finally, on my 8th birthday, my mom surprised me by bringing me to the local animal shelter where she let me pick out a dog. MY dog. And from that very day on, Jake never left my side. We played with the neighborhood kids together, went on all kinds of crazy adventures, explored the woods, went on trips to friend's houses. I single handedly taught him all kinds of awesome tricks without knowing a thing about dog training.
Jake died October 18th, 2001, my senior year in high school, and it was a day I'll never forget. He was suffering from severe back issues as a result from abuse that happened to him before he came into our care. My mother, at my request, got him cremated and gave me his urn. It's never left me. Through moves, trips, etc, it's always been with me. I've never lost and I never will. Over the years, everything that's ever become of any sacred value has ended up on or in that urn. Jake has kind of become the guardian and keeper of everything of major material value to me. The red collar was his and what I originally put on it the day his ashes came back. The orange collar was part of a donation to the cancer foundation for animals. The silver necklace is a celtic love knot I got in 2004 when I went to Ireland and was worn all through out a very serious and intense relationship with someone who was very dear to me. The cat pin was given to me by my big sister Susan, just before she died of cancer last summer. There is also a letter she wrote to me that's inside the urn in a plastic bag. And the little ferret charm was attached to Skipper's harness.
The urn is coming to the grave with me I've decided. There's nothing else I could possibly do with it, and perhaps that's the way it should be. As quoted by Ben Hur "The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master".
This is the "urn" I received from the vet's 9 years ago when my beagle, Jake, was put to sleep. I was 17 years old. Jake was the very first "real" pet I've ever had. I had cats, and hamsters, and all kinds of small animals, but Jake was MINE. From the time I could comprehend life, all I ever wanted was a dog. All I talked about to my mom was getting a dog. Finally, on my 8th birthday, my mom surprised me by bringing me to the local animal shelter where she let me pick out a dog. MY dog. And from that very day on, Jake never left my side. We played with the neighborhood kids together, went on all kinds of crazy adventures, explored the woods, went on trips to friend's houses. I single handedly taught him all kinds of awesome tricks without knowing a thing about dog training.
Jake died October 18th, 2001, my senior year in high school, and it was a day I'll never forget. He was suffering from severe back issues as a result from abuse that happened to him before he came into our care. My mother, at my request, got him cremated and gave me his urn. It's never left me. Through moves, trips, etc, it's always been with me. I've never lost and I never will. Over the years, everything that's ever become of any sacred value has ended up on or in that urn. Jake has kind of become the guardian and keeper of everything of major material value to me. The red collar was his and what I originally put on it the day his ashes came back. The orange collar was part of a donation to the cancer foundation for animals. The silver necklace is a celtic love knot I got in 2004 when I went to Ireland and was worn all through out a very serious and intense relationship with someone who was very dear to me. The cat pin was given to me by my big sister Susan, just before she died of cancer last summer. There is also a letter she wrote to me that's inside the urn in a plastic bag. And the little ferret charm was attached to Skipper's harness.
The urn is coming to the grave with me I've decided. There's nothing else I could possibly do with it, and perhaps that's the way it should be. As quoted by Ben Hur "The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master".
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 591 x 486px
File Size 51.5 kB
*Hugs* Beagles are great companion dogs. Not so small you'll step on it, not so big they will step on you. The right size to snuggle against on a cold night, and to wake you up with wet kisses. It's good you keep him with you. Gives you stability in a world of chaos.
I plan on getting myself a beagle when I can. I love the sound of their brays, and the way they will bray at you while looking at you over their muzzle.
I plan on getting myself a beagle when I can. I love the sound of their brays, and the way they will bray at you while looking at you over their muzzle.
Loyal to a Fault.
Dad's first beagle he got for hunting. He went down to my cousin to pick out a beagle... While sleeping on the couch, this one pup sat up, and looked at dad and brayed at him. And dad figured that was his dog. He kept that dog for 6+ years. She would escape go hunting on her own and come back happy as all get out. She had several pups, but she eventually escaped before we had a snowstorm. And she didn't make it to the house before the freezing rain. When the snow melted, she was found curled up under a bush. He lost his best friend. One of her daughters took her place, but it wasn't the same.
The dad would be sitting on the couch and the duaghter would cuddle against his leg,.. then snuggle up his leg, into his lap. and kept snuggling her way up his body, until she got herself curled up on the back of the couch wrapped around his neck. We eventually got rid of the dogs after a while cause we only had one place for them, and the only male we had was line breeding. Last litter had silver fur. :/
I've been wanting beagles ever since... Heck, I'd pay good money for a beagle with the silver fur. Again.
Dad's first beagle he got for hunting. He went down to my cousin to pick out a beagle... While sleeping on the couch, this one pup sat up, and looked at dad and brayed at him. And dad figured that was his dog. He kept that dog for 6+ years. She would escape go hunting on her own and come back happy as all get out. She had several pups, but she eventually escaped before we had a snowstorm. And she didn't make it to the house before the freezing rain. When the snow melted, she was found curled up under a bush. He lost his best friend. One of her daughters took her place, but it wasn't the same.
The dad would be sitting on the couch and the duaghter would cuddle against his leg,.. then snuggle up his leg, into his lap. and kept snuggling her way up his body, until she got herself curled up on the back of the couch wrapped around his neck. We eventually got rid of the dogs after a while cause we only had one place for them, and the only male we had was line breeding. Last litter had silver fur. :/
I've been wanting beagles ever since... Heck, I'd pay good money for a beagle with the silver fur. Again.
*Hugs* But they gave us all their love and affection so we rarely mourn their passing, instead we celebrate their life and quirks.
Sides, we got tons of fun from them. When dad had the first one, my mom owned a Yorkshire Terrier. We would be eating dinner and you'd hear a yipe! and watch this brown and silver yorkie come tearing down the hall way, sweep around the chair and make a diving leap to slide under the couch. Seconds later you would hear the tromping of the beagle, her claws not getting the same traction and sliding wide, and she'd try the same slide, and bonk her head against the couch. From there, she would start braying at the yorkie and paw at the draping around where the yorkie went in. Down the couch, the yorkie would stick it's head out and bark. The beagle turned her head to look that way. Then you'd see the yorkie poke it's head out and nip at the paws, sending the beagle back to braying at the couch. We'd call the beagle and she'd look at us. Long enough for the yorkie to nip again. :)
Usually they ended up sleeping curled up together.
Sides, we got tons of fun from them. When dad had the first one, my mom owned a Yorkshire Terrier. We would be eating dinner and you'd hear a yipe! and watch this brown and silver yorkie come tearing down the hall way, sweep around the chair and make a diving leap to slide under the couch. Seconds later you would hear the tromping of the beagle, her claws not getting the same traction and sliding wide, and she'd try the same slide, and bonk her head against the couch. From there, she would start braying at the yorkie and paw at the draping around where the yorkie went in. Down the couch, the yorkie would stick it's head out and bark. The beagle turned her head to look that way. Then you'd see the yorkie poke it's head out and nip at the paws, sending the beagle back to braying at the couch. We'd call the beagle and she'd look at us. Long enough for the yorkie to nip again. :)
Usually they ended up sleeping curled up together.
Indeed, that's kind of what my intentions were with this post. I mourned Jake's loss heavily when I first lost him and I miss him terribly to this day, but this wasn't suppose to be a sad post, rather just one reflecting on what a wonderful animal he was and how I'll always love him and hold him dear. Not even death can destroy that.
Thank you for sharing that with us. I love how you have attached everything to it. It should definitely go with you to the grave.
The only animal I have bonded with that much was Thea, my beta fish. She lived to be rather old for one of her kind, but she proved that betas are not stupid and can actually understand human emotions. I wasn't able to keep Thea's body (little fish make big stink), but I did keep a hold of the dragon that was in her tank. Even if I get another beta, I am not going to use that dragon statue. It reminds me of her.
The only animal I have bonded with that much was Thea, my beta fish. She lived to be rather old for one of her kind, but she proved that betas are not stupid and can actually understand human emotions. I wasn't able to keep Thea's body (little fish make big stink), but I did keep a hold of the dragon that was in her tank. Even if I get another beta, I am not going to use that dragon statue. It reminds me of her.
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