I am so very grateful to my dear friend, NANCY MURRAY, for sponsoring Butch's memorial!
Butch's 4 Furry Brothers and One Furry Sister:
Whitey
Mac
Murray
Earl
Samantha
Butch, a purebred brown and white Chihuahua, was born on March 22, 2005, and passed away on October 19, 2010. He will live forever in our memories and hearts.
Butch was actually bought by our daughter, Laura, and was her pet until October of 2005. At that time, the weather had gotten too cold for Butch to remain outside all day long in her yard, and he could not be inside the house all day without accidents. Since my husband and I have a pet door that leads to a fenced backyard, we had the ideal home for Butch.
At that time, we still had our ancient West Highland White Terrier named Murray (short for "Hampton's Highland Murray," as he was also a registered purebred, and a calico cat named Samantha. Murray was glad to have a playmate and companion, but he also made the newcomer respect Murray's exalted position as the Eldest Pet in the Family. Samantha, of course, basically ignored the new pup on the block, as she was obviously the Most Important Member of the Family, being feline.
Six-year-old Sierra, Laura's daughter and our granddaughter, adored Butch, of course, and also loved Murray and Samantha. When baby Cheyenne joined her Mommy and Daddy and sister Sierra in 2007, she, too, soon learned to love Butch. At first, though, Butch was quite leery of Cheyenne, as she was inclined to grab him and smother him when she was about a year old. Butch was already the best friend of Sierra, and soon learned to love Cheyenne, too, as she grew and learned to treat him more kindly. In fact, it was most often Cheyenne who would sit on the floor with Butch and let him smother her face with his doggy kisses!
Sierra and her friends often liked to take Butch for a walk, using his special leash, which allowed him to roam far and wide. He loved that special treat of getting to investigate all the wonderful smells that only tantalized him when he was "cooped up" in our back yard! Actually, our back yard is quite spacious, and Butch had plenty of room to roam and to terrorize the squirrels who would dare to trespass into his domain!
Butch considered himself the Guardian of the House, especially after Murray passed on in 2006 at the ripe old age of 16, and he was "on guard" 24/7, letting us know whenever any strange person or animal ventured too near our home. He would race out the pet door into the back yard, yipping madly and trying to scare away the intruder. He never got used to the fact that our mailman visited our home every Monday through Saturday, usually about the same time each day, and so there was a daily alarm from Butch when our mail arrived.
Like all our pets, Butch had the full roam of our house and fenced backyard, coming and going as he wished through the pet door. We do not know even now how he managed to get out of the backyard that fateful day.
Hamp and I had gone to New Jersey and Pennsylvania to visit our brothers in early October, and had left Butch and Samantha in the very capable care of some friends who lived nearby. Just as we were approaching my brother's house in PA, I got a terrible phone call from those friends, telling me that somehow Butch had gotten out of the backyard overnight and had been hit by a car on the very busy road behind our house. He had been found by a Good Samaritan and taken to the vet's, but the vet didn't know how to reach us. When the friends were calling around to try to find Butch, they learned where he was and the terrible condition that he was in.
I called our daughter, Laura, and had her go and check on Butch. She called me back, crying, saying that Butch was so badly injured that it was considered best to have him put down. We agreed, but asked that the vet keep Butch's body frozen until we could get home; we wanted to bury him next to his friends, Whitey, Mac, and Murray in our backyard.
My 10-year-old granddaughter, Sierra, and I picked Butch up once I was home again, and tenderly buried him in our growing Pet Cemetery in our back yard.
Here is a memorial poem I wrote for Butch while we were still on vacation; writing seems to help me in my grief.
From the time you came to our house, Butch,
You were always happy and alert;
You learned quickly that both Murray and Samantha were your superiors
In both age and experience,
And you always deferred to them,
Though you never stopped trying to get them to play more.
Murray is long gone now,
Having lived to a ripe old age,
And is buried in our backyard under the trees
With his long-gone playmates, Whitey and Mac.
Samantha was now your friend and ally,
Though she still sometimes put you in your proper place
At the bottom of the pecking order,
But you both snuggled up together on cold nights,
Even though she is a cat and you were a dog.
You were our protector and alarm,
Barking madly whenever a stranger came around,
But you quickly recognized us and old friends
And greeted us with wagging tail and wiggles,
Showing that you were truly happy all over
To see us and welcome us home.
You loved to play and would bring your ball to us
And wait for us to realize that you wanted us to participate.
You loved it when we tried to trick you by
Pretending to throw the ball one way and then
Quickly throwing it another.
You would gallop happily after it and grab it,
But you didn't always bring it right back to us.
Sometimes you wanted to chew on it a while or
Just run around with it,
But eventually you would drop it at our feet
So that we could throw it once more.
It was always we who tired of the game, never you.
You would greet me each morning with glad yips
And tail waggings,
And you would shadow me until I realized
You wanted your morning treat.
Sometimes, I sleepily handed it right to you,
And other times I would make you stand on your hind legs
And "properly" beg for it.
You always made me smile.
You loved to be petted, and would gladly
Put your paws on our legs or laps and
Accept our rubs and scratching.
You dearly loved Sierra and Cheyenne,
Who would always pet you and play with you,
And even sit down with you and let you love them
With your licking.
They will miss you terribly.
As will we all.
The house is so quiet now, and I fear it will
Never be the same again.
For you warned us of any stranger,
And, to you, the mailman was always a stranger.
But you learned to recognize and love
The meter readers and the men who
Helped to remodel our house this past spring.
You loved exploring all the new rooms they were building,
Delighting in being able to run through all the
Openings in the walls,
And you especially loved the new deck,
Where you could stretch out for a daily sunbath.
Goodbye for now, our sweet little Butch.
We will see you again someday when God calls us to join you
At Rainbow Bridge,
Where you wait with Whitey and Mac and Murray and Robbie,
All of you playing in God's lovely meadows,
Happy and alive and healthy forever more,
As we, too, shall be someday.
Love and hugs and kisses,
Mugga, Papa, Laura, Sierra, and Cheyenne
I am so very grateful to my dear friend, NANCY MURRAY, for sponsoring Butch's memorial!
Butch's 4 Furry Brothers and One Furry Sister:
Whitey
Mac
Murray
Earl
Samantha
Butch, a purebred brown and white Chihuahua, was born on March 22, 2005, and passed away on October 19, 2010. He will live forever in our memories and hearts.
Butch was actually bought by our daughter, Laura, and was her pet until October of 2005. At that time, the weather had gotten too cold for Butch to remain outside all day long in her yard, and he could not be inside the house all day without accidents. Since my husband and I have a pet door that leads to a fenced backyard, we had the ideal home for Butch.
At that time, we still had our ancient West Highland White Terrier named Murray (short for "Hampton's Highland Murray," as he was also a registered purebred, and a calico cat named Samantha. Murray was glad to have a playmate and companion, but he also made the newcomer respect Murray's exalted position as the Eldest Pet in the Family. Samantha, of course, basically ignored the new pup on the block, as she was obviously the Most Important Member of the Family, being feline.
Six-year-old Sierra, Laura's daughter and our granddaughter, adored Butch, of course, and also loved Murray and Samantha. When baby Cheyenne joined her Mommy and Daddy and sister Sierra in 2007, she, too, soon learned to love Butch. At first, though, Butch was quite leery of Cheyenne, as she was inclined to grab him and smother him when she was about a year old. Butch was already the best friend of Sierra, and soon learned to love Cheyenne, too, as she grew and learned to treat him more kindly. In fact, it was most often Cheyenne who would sit on the floor with Butch and let him smother her face with his doggy kisses!
Sierra and her friends often liked to take Butch for a walk, using his special leash, which allowed him to roam far and wide. He loved that special treat of getting to investigate all the wonderful smells that only tantalized him when he was "cooped up" in our back yard! Actually, our back yard is quite spacious, and Butch had plenty of room to roam and to terrorize the squirrels who would dare to trespass into his domain!
Butch considered himself the Guardian of the House, especially after Murray passed on in 2006 at the ripe old age of 16, and he was "on guard" 24/7, letting us know whenever any strange person or animal ventured too near our home. He would race out the pet door into the back yard, yipping madly and trying to scare away the intruder. He never got used to the fact that our mailman visited our home every Monday through Saturday, usually about the same time each day, and so there was a daily alarm from Butch when our mail arrived.
Like all our pets, Butch had the full roam of our house and fenced backyard, coming and going as he wished through the pet door. We do not know even now how he managed to get out of the backyard that fateful day.
Hamp and I had gone to New Jersey and Pennsylvania to visit our brothers in early October, and had left Butch and Samantha in the very capable care of some friends who lived nearby. Just as we were approaching my brother's house in PA, I got a terrible phone call from those friends, telling me that somehow Butch had gotten out of the backyard overnight and had been hit by a car on the very busy road behind our house. He had been found by a Good Samaritan and taken to the vet's, but the vet didn't know how to reach us. When the friends were calling around to try to find Butch, they learned where he was and the terrible condition that he was in.
I called our daughter, Laura, and had her go and check on Butch. She called me back, crying, saying that Butch was so badly injured that it was considered best to have him put down. We agreed, but asked that the vet keep Butch's body frozen until we could get home; we wanted to bury him next to his friends, Whitey, Mac, and Murray in our backyard.
My 10-year-old granddaughter, Sierra, and I picked Butch up once I was home again, and tenderly buried him in our growing Pet Cemetery in our back yard.
Here is a memorial poem I wrote for Butch while we were still on vacation; writing seems to help me in my grief.
From the time you came to our house, Butch,
You were always happy and alert;
You learned quickly that both Murray and Samantha were your superiors
In both age and experience,
And you always deferred to them,
Though you never stopped trying to get them to play more.
Murray is long gone now,
Having lived to a ripe old age,
And is buried in our backyard under the trees
With his long-gone playmates, Whitey and Mac.
Samantha was now your friend and ally,
Though she still sometimes put you in your proper place
At the bottom of the pecking order,
But you both snuggled up together on cold nights,
Even though she is a cat and you were a dog.
You were our protector and alarm,
Barking madly whenever a stranger came around,
But you quickly recognized us and old friends
And greeted us with wagging tail and wiggles,
Showing that you were truly happy all over
To see us and welcome us home.
You loved to play and would bring your ball to us
And wait for us to realize that you wanted us to participate.
You loved it when we tried to trick you by
Pretending to throw the ball one way and then
Quickly throwing it another.
You would gallop happily after it and grab it,
But you didn't always bring it right back to us.
Sometimes you wanted to chew on it a while or
Just run around with it,
But eventually you would drop it at our feet
So that we could throw it once more.
It was always we who tired of the game, never you.
You would greet me each morning with glad yips
And tail waggings,
And you would shadow me until I realized
You wanted your morning treat.
Sometimes, I sleepily handed it right to you,
And other times I would make you stand on your hind legs
And "properly" beg for it.
You always made me smile.
You loved to be petted, and would gladly
Put your paws on our legs or laps and
Accept our rubs and scratching.
You dearly loved Sierra and Cheyenne,
Who would always pet you and play with you,
And even sit down with you and let you love them
With your licking.
They will miss you terribly.
As will we all.
The house is so quiet now, and I fear it will
Never be the same again.
For you warned us of any stranger,
And, to you, the mailman was always a stranger.
But you learned to recognize and love
The meter readers and the men who
Helped to remodel our house this past spring.
You loved exploring all the new rooms they were building,
Delighting in being able to run through all the
Openings in the walls,
And you especially loved the new deck,
Where you could stretch out for a daily sunbath.
Goodbye for now, our sweet little Butch.
We will see you again someday when God calls us to join you
At Rainbow Bridge,
Where you wait with Whitey and Mac and Murray and Robbie,
All of you playing in God's lovely meadows,
Happy and alive and healthy forever more,
As we, too, shall be someday.
Love and hugs and kisses,
Mugga, Papa, Laura, Sierra, and Cheyenne
