We want to honor and remember those loved ones that have passed on before us. This page is for family to share photos and words about their beloved pets whom they’ve lost.
“Simone came to me as a small, 8 month old kitten, rescued from a couple who didn’t want her anymore, and I instantly fell in love. Although she wandered around my home without a problem, I discovered later she was totally blind. I also discovered she had dysfunctional kidneys, anemia and a heart murmur. But you wouldn’t have known any of that because she was so bright, lively and energetic.
She ferociously ran after her favorite stuffed animals without missing a beat. She noticed everything with her highly sensitive hearing. She loved to sit on the window sill, following birds and cars and people. In my kitchen, she would to crawl up my legs and shirt until she found herself on my shoulders, making herself comfortable while I cleaned dishes.
She loved the sound of running water. She loved to be groomed. She loved sleeping on my chest, unable to snuggle close enough to the crook of my neck. She was curious about everything, but very polite, softly meowing when she needed attention or was hungry, always patiently waiting for her favorite food.
The last month of her life was difficult, her body broke down much too quickly. I comforted her as she took her last breath. The short time I had her felt like she has been with me all my life. I still feel her sweet and kind soul around my home, and her unconditional love will never be forgotten. She was so dearly loved, and she will be missed so, so much.”
“Bigg-E Small came to me in 2002 with a furry black slipper as a toy. He was so pretty and shiny and sweet, always such a good boy from Day 1. I took him to training and he earned “best in class” and was always healthy, happy and sweet as can be. His name was derived from not knowing if he would be big or small as a puppy. Turned out he was perfect. He lived 16 long wonderful years, he brought me comfort and security, joy, happiness and lots of love and laughter over the years. He died March 10th in my arms and by his best friend’s side. With love and grace. xox”
“Kya muffin was 7 years old when I adopted her. She immediately made it clear to me that I was her human – that weekend, I jumped into a lake, and lo and behold she came jumping in after me. She spread her love around with a smile and kiss for everyone she met, and she easily bonded with my friends and loved ones.
For 5 years, this beautiful doggo snuggled with me every night and greeted every activity with excitement – be that a road trip, hike, or hanging out on the couch. Our activities together changed as she got older, as we traded in trails for neighborhood sidewalks, but she supported me and I supported her.
“Francis, a champion snuggler, fighter of poodles, meow maestro, ace biscuit-maker, over-eater, newspaper-napper, and the grumpiest, most protective, opinionated and stubborn kitten we had the pleasure of sharing a home with, passed away in February 2017. He left this world from his favorite sleeping spot and in the arms of his mom and dad. We miss him terribly.”
“I met Marley when he was about 6 months old in 2002 and it was love at first sight. He was timid and particularly afraid of garbage cans, cats and waves at the beach. However, over the course of the next few years, Marley conquered his fears of all the above and diving off a dock into a lake (waves or not!) became one of his greatest joys. His passions included tennis balls, romping in the snow, being a car copilot, and bacon. He was a tender soul, who settled into the role of ‘grumpy old man,’ but never wavered in displaying his devotion to his humans. He crossed the rainbow bridge on February 16, 2017. Anytime I jump into a lake, I’ll be thinking of my sweet Marley next to me.”
“Persephone and I met at a rescue shelter in Columbus, OH. I knew the moment we met (and think she did, too) that we would enjoy each other’s company. Over our 18 years together, she moved all over the country with me. She was the concierge of our home, always greeting visitors at the door as well as being the life of every party. Each night, she slept above my head. I still reach for her there and miss her furry little face in the mornings. I’d say rest in peace, but I’m sure she’s not resting—wherever she is, she’s greeting everyone she meets and exploring her new world fearlessly. We miss you, kitty.”
“On the evening of Tuesday, August 23, 2016, under blue skies, we lost ourGuinness, comfortably at home, aided by the capable and compassionate hands of our bonafide saint of a vet Dr. Anderson.
Guinness and I came together in 2005. I was finishing my degree and, worried that Sid, my other sheltie, wasn’t getting enough attention, I got him a younger brother. They took on a wild playing style which I would soundtrack with the Kirk v. Spock fight music from Amok Time.
There was also always a timid side to Guinness. I called him my Guinny-scare for his propensity to run to my side at the slightest loud noise. He hated fireworks, skateboards, the Blue Angels and above all: solo wheels, for which I would tell him, “It’s okay, baby. They *are* stupid.”
My boys followed me to Philadelphia then to Seattle. He and Sid made the grueling four-day crawl across the country in a small Subaru with me, two other people and a cat. Initially, it was tough to adjust—for me, not them—but eventually we settled in and nothing would tear us apart.
Then I met Zack Marley. From that first night, Guinness favored Zack. I would joke about feeling betrayed, that I was “chopped liver”. But Zack called them, “my sons” and I felt the joy of having my own family at last.
Guinness cheated death once. Diagnosed with melanoma in spring of 2015, we opted for extreme surgery, which removed half of his upper jaw. He bounced back with super-canine-like strength and, soon, was back to his same-old weird self; endlessly energetic and playful, annoying his now-old-man brother with his wild play.
We take solace knowing that he was like this until almost his last day. We thank everyone who was part of what would become his last weekend. We went to parties, met new dog friends, ate treats and pizza (and, because I’m not proud, butter), and cuddled watching Star Trek. We wandered the streets of Capitol Hill as far as his strength would take him. And when he could walk no more, we carried him.
I’ve managed to write all this without a single tear. Because he only ever made me supremely happy with his soft ears (especially the one with the wisp), uncannily clean smell, toothy-smile, Kabuki eyebrows and singular personality.
We’ll miss you and love you forever guinny sue, ginsu, guinea pig, guinny goose, gee-noose, guinny fresh, risky business, oh-so-emo, derpasaurus—our Guinness.
Wait for mummy.
I’ll be back soon.”
“Lou wasn’t that nice.
He had other things going for him. He was smart, empathetic, and more spirited than was good for him. In other words, he was a handful.
But he was our handful. He came into our lives as a tiny kitten living in an auto repair shop in the International District. He was around 8 weeks old and hanging out with pit bulls. He was lousy with fleas. We fell in love with him immediately.
We knew right away he was something special. He was adept at hijacking food from the dinner table. He learned tricks easily. He was intense and bonded with us right away. He understood his people.
It was a 2-way street of respect. As a member of the family, Lou more than pulled his weight. If anyone was sick, he was glued to their side. His piercing blue eyes keeping watch. He absolutely guarded his people.
On the flipside, he could be a real menace to visitors. People don’t really take “don’t pet the cat” seriously. In this case, that was a huge mistake. Lou would cut a bitch in a second. He didn’t put up with anyone taking liberties with him.
It only made us love him more.
Lou took better care of me than I ever could’ve taken care of him. I miss him terribly. I look back on the years we had together and I know I got the better deal. Would I do it again? Without hesitation. That Siamese boy made my life immeasurably richer. I hope I did the same for him.”
“She came into our lives as a six month old Boxer pup that needed a home and she was adorable. Six months old, a whopping 30lbs of tiny Boxer goodness. She has always had impeccable manners and came to us fully house trained, like an insta-dog. She fit in well with the pack and really cemented my love of Boxers. Those awful Boxer habits that the breed frequently has that you either love or hate? You know the ones I’m talking about – the energy of a perpetual toddler, the unexpected gut punts, the general bounciness…well, Minnie was always more on the dignified side so she was good at ‘converting’ people to the Boxer side.
Of course, Minnie was a grand dame, like her name sake, Minerva McGonagall. This poster was used for a charity cabaret show benefiting some orphaned bear cubs and this is by our good friend, MTP Studios. Over $6,000 was raised by this show! Always one to extend an altruistic paw, Minnie also appeared in a benefit calendar. Sure, sure…..it was supposed to be a Pit Bull calendar but she was an honorary Pit Bull just by association.
In September of 2015 Minnie was diagnosed with large cell lymphoma. We started chemotherapy and she was never sick a day, she really sailed through the treatments like a champ. Minnie let us know when it was time to say good-bye. With lots of tears, and a couple of cheeseburgers we ushered our girl from this life to the next. I hope everybody has the joy of sharing their life with a special dog like Minnie.”
“We first saw Nutmeg as a puppy at the Humane Society. We had been looking for a dog to be a companion for our second dog after our first dog had passed away. I first noticed Nutmeg because of her outstanding color, which is also the source of her name. I became enamored of her once I approached her cage because she was quiet and sweet. That, we were to find out, was the essence of her nature. Soon we took her home, and she and our other dog became inseparable. They always walked together, sat next to each other, and slept near each other.Nutmeg was soon a favorite of the neighborhood. Her striking color drew others to her, but her sweet nature is what they loved most. At first, our neighbors could not get used to her name: They would ask about “Cinnamon” or “Chestnut”. The best was when one neighbor saw us one day and asked us, “How is little Paprika?” Whenever someone new met her in person, they always agreed that “Nutmeg” was such a perfect name for her!As a young dog, Nutmeg loved the off-leash parks. She would spend hours there, chasing balls thrown from a chuck-it, leaping high in the air. She loved to play hide-and-seek with us in the tall grass, or run across fields. Her favorite thing, however, was to swim in the river or lake. She loved the water, and happily chased floating balls and would swim back with them for as long as we could stand to throw them.
Eventually, as she got a little older, Nutmeg developed knee problems in her back legs, so after a while, there was no more leaping or swimming. She still loved to take long walks for miles, and became very exploratory, developing a number of routes around the neighborhood that she enjoyed walking. We would sometimes take deliberate walks to see chickens in a yard, or some Shetland ponies that were in small corral several blocks from home. Nutmeg was always friendly toward other animals, and very fascinated by these non-dogs.
She would be fascinated in watching them and trying to meet them. She was a people pleaser, always gentle, gracious, polite, and just an elegant lady. She was universally acknowledged as a true sweetheart, which is how I always referred to her. She bore her final sickness with stoic grace. She always made you feel that your coming home was the best event ever – always so happy to welcome us. She was a lovely soul, and the only bad thing she ever did was not to live as long as we needed her to. We miss her every day, but are filled with wonderful memories and gratitude that we were her family for her whole life.”
“Sonny was such a wonderful dog who we loved to walk and get massages. A character in every sense of the word…from his obsession with fallen pears to his snotty nose to his devotion to his mom, April Bartlett. We will miss you tremendously Sonny-man. RIP May you walk the streets of heaven with the same bravado you walked with on earth.”
“Leland came into our lives in 2010 when we met him on 24th Avenue East across the street from our old apartment. He was the neighborhood cat that everyone seemed to be feeding, but no one seemed to own. We encountered him many times on the street when he walked our dog. He was so sweet and friendly with us that when we moved to a different neighborhood, we were determined to bring him with us. On November 1st, 2010, we plotted our catnapping and then took him to the vet to get checked out. Since then Leland won a special place in our hearts. His gray and white fur was as soft as a cloud and his bright blue eyes showed how handsome he was despite being an older guy. He loved sitting on the couch, getting pet by Shane but had his moments when he would get feisty and swipe at you. We miss our little guy but know that he had an awesome life with us for the five years we had him.”
“We rescued Panda when he was around 10 years old. When we went to the shelter to meet him, we saw all the other dogs actively at their gates trying to get our attention. Panda, however, was fast asleep at the back of his enclosure completely happy and oblivious to any chaos around him. I knew instantly that he was to be our dog!
He was the calmest of dogs and the gentlest of souls. His quiet, sweet, trusting manor endeared him to everyone who met him. He truly was a special dog and just being around him made people happy. We will miss him dearly but were so glad to have almost two years with him and know he’s up there in dog heaven drinking all the water he wants followed by lots of naps.”
“Stan was an adoptable dog at Seattle Animal Shelter in 2005 when I was a volunteer dog walker. He was adopted and returned multiple times for being too hard to handle. After him being there for over a month I decided to bring the naughtiest dog at the shelter home. Stan was an excellent escape artist, barked in the car nonstop, liked to hunt birds and critters in the yard, shed like crazy, barked at animals on the tv, and would never come when you called him outside.
Stan was also a loving, protective, loyal friend. I have always taken care of my dogs, but I always felt like Stan was taking care of me, too. He was the best. He was so gentle and sweet to his people. Stan was about 5 when I adopted him and I was lucky to have him almost 10 years. It’s very quiet here without him, but I like to think he’s causing trouble somewhere else when he’s not watching over us!”