Remembering Our Special Angels

pet loss

The death of a companion animal can cause excruciating grief. They are often like a child of the family, whether their companion human is single or not, has children or not, their unconditional love and authenticity add beauty and sincerity to our lives. Read more on pet loss at GriefToGreatness.com



Meet Molly. She was rescued and freed from a puppy mill. She had pyometra and died 4 days after being freed. She never enjoyed life and will be remembered forever in our hearts. We love you Molly!




In Loving Memory

Dedicated to two bischons that were never given a chance
Born out of greed
Not ever given what they need
You guys, probably white, cute and small
Sorry we didn't get to meet at all
We all love you guys though we haven't met
I know someone would've been lucky to have you for a pet
We are saddened by how violently your life was taken away
All because they didn't have room for you to stay
You were created out of greed
With intentions for you to breed
You deserved a warm place to cuddle and sleep
Instead you got a cold cage with feces knee deep
You deserved fresh water & your very own dish
Necessities are not things one should have to wish
We're so sorry we were too late and couldn't give you all our love
Now you crossed the rainbow bridge into heaven above
So bischon 1 and bischon 2
Two beautiful dogs that we never knew
You'll live in our hearts and in the stories we tell
How the millers are cruel and should be burning in hell
They kill the dogs when they don't need them anymore
Those still in cages have it in store
We as people are given free will
Some do so much while others stand still
How can we do nothing for all the dogs in the mill?
How can millers promote God & life when all they seem to do is kill?
Two little bischons guilty of taking up space
Two lives taken, it's such a waste
What kind of man can look them in the eye?
That very same man that wants them to die.
Laws need to pass to set them all free
Fines, penalties, and jail time if need be.
So, little bischons rest now; it's long overdue
We really are heartbroken this happened to you!
Written with love by Karen Materia


This is Sir Winston Churchill. This white beautiful boxer was rescued from a horrific puppy mill at the early age of 6 months. He had Parvo and died 5 days later. He didn't even have a chance to know what a good life was. All he knew was confinement and torture. He will always have a special place in our hearts. We loved you Winston!



Words from a puppy mill dog

Some humans in this world have decided
With the worst selfishness and greed,
That my fate shall be forever in a cage,
And to pay my keep, I must breed.

I will never be a pet, only a breeding machine
"Please release me of this prison," I bark in vain
But the miller does not care of our sadness
Or that we live out each day in great pain.

For you see as the miller's property
I never get to play or even be pet
And when I get injured or sick,
The miller doesn't bring me to a vet

Once again the miller comes to collect my pups
Still so tiny, and sickly with eyes and nose runny
I bark, "It's too early. They still need my milk."
But he ignores me for younger pups bring him more money.

My feet are always bleeding, cut by wired floor
And my legs are crippled from never being let to run
In the winter I shiver; left out in the snow and rain
In the summer the hot rays beat down from the sun

I am missing many teeth, the rest cracked and broken,
All my fur is falling out in clumps from a terrible rash
And the world is always dark for infection has left me blind.
But the miller does not care for I still bring in cash.

As time goes by I feel my body is growing weaker each day.
Ragged and worn, I look like I'm twelve though I am only five.
My uterus has become swollen and infected from too many litters
And to breed lots of puppies is the only reason I'm kept alive

I can no longer make a product for him to sell.
So I am now a burden and waste of money to feed.
I await my fate in silence. I've seen it all before.
Now he is yanking me by the rope he uses as a lead

He drags me, my legs useless, deep into the woods to the spot
as if I could get away, i am tied to a tree with an old rusty chain
I hear him put in the bullets. then he raises the gun.
And so in death, I am finally freed of my cage and my pain.
This poem is dedicated to all the dogs languishing in puppy mills.
Written by Crestferchi

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