My Precious Hunter,

Three years ago today was one of the saddest days of my life because it is
the day you were taken from me. I have spent all these years telling of your
death, using the story of your death to try to save other precious dogs.

I have also tried to describe you so people would know the kind of special
boy you were. But it is so hard for people who never knew you to understand.
How can you describe a rainbow to one who can not see, the sweet scent of
rose to one who can not smell, the sound of a song bird to one who can not
hear.

They could not know your gentleness, like a spring breeze, because they
never saw you laying beside your sister, gently licking her face after she
had her knee surgeries. They never saw you laying besides Honey's crate to
keep her company when she spent 6 weeks in there after heartworm treatment.
They never saw you bringing your toys and placing them on the grandchildren's
blanket as they sat on the floor.

They could not know your patience as they never saw you let your sister or
Honey take the toy from your mouth. Or the way you let Honey run up behind
you and grab your leg, almost pulling you down. You would just sit down and
look at me as if to say "Is she ever going to stop pestering me." We wanted
you to grown or snap at her as we were scared she was going to hurt you, but
you never did. Or your total willingness to share any food or treat.

They could not know how you made me laugh with your clumsiness, the way you
would fall off the bed until you learned to sleep wrapped around my head, or
the way you ran into things and even tripped over your own feet. Yet when
you ran, no gazelle was more graceful. Your long lean body stretched out,
sun bringing out the gold and silver in your golden fur. Or the way you woke
me each morning with your wide, dripping tongue dancing hap-hazardly on my
neck, in my hair, in my ear. When I turned my fact towards you and opened my
eyes, your ears would perk up and your tail just thump. You were so happy to
have my attention, I just had to laugh at you.

They can not know your devotion to me. The way you had to sleep where you
could see my face--once you learned not to fall out of bed. How I would
sometimes wake up at night with the feeling of being watched and it was you
on the floor watching me--I was to close to the edge of the bed for you to
be there to see my face. I would move over and you would get back on the
bed. They could not see you watching me talk and hear people say how you
hung onto every word I said.

They could not see how hard you fought that last week to live, never
refusing to take your meds, never trying to get your IV out, never refusing
to go back in your ICU unit after being out for tests to go potty, never
fighting the twice a day blood draws. They all said you wanted to live for
me.

Hunter, my Petey boy, I never believed in ghosts or visits from beyond, but
I knew without a doubt that night, 8 months after your death, that you were
using your sister's body to let me know you were fine, you loved me as much
as ever and you did not blame me for your death. I have so wished to be
woken again with her tongue all wet and slobbering dancing on the back of my
neck to wake me..as you always woke me in the mornings. But it has not
happened again. But i am so thankful for that one visit because it took away
my guilt.

I think when God made you he threw away the mold. You were a one of a kind,
my precious Petey , and I love you as much today as I ever did and I will
love you that much forever.

Love, Mommy

HUNTER August 19, 1999 ----- 8:40 PM October 16, 2003