Ethel Mae Teresa Casey 6/26/96 - 12/12/09 Rest in Peace

On the left is Fred, and on the right is Ethel. My wife and I could not have been more blessed than to have the companionship of these two dogs in our lives.

Fred lived 16 years, I had his pain ended on May 9, 2002.

Ethel made Fred's last 4 years as his health gradually failed easier for all of us to cope with.

She didn't just rescue Fred, she rescued my wife and I as well.

We think she suffered a stroke last night as we were awakened by her crying around 3 AM. She was unable to get up and walk, her back legs kept falling out from under her and she kept falling down. My wife and I spent the early morning hours discussing options, but knowing in our hearts what we would eventually have to do.

My Wife had always promised Ethel she would not let her suffer and keep her alive for livings sake. As dawn came Ethel could not raise her head. She wouldn't eat or take any water, but the most important thing to us was she did not wag her tail. When we looked into her eyes, we could see that the dog we had loved for so long was not there anymore. She moaned, whimpered, and continually shuddered. She did not return our gaze, instead, she seemed to be distracted as if staring off into space.

I rose early and went out after 7 AM and started digging. I made the hole between our statues of the Blessed Virgin and St. Anthony. It is right outside our picture window and the Morning sun shines brightly down on it and a Rosebush behind it. I called the Vet at 8 AM as soon as they opened, and explained the situation. They said to come at 9:15 AM. The Doctor who saw her was the same one who she has been seeing all her life. My Wife had to carry her into the Vet. The doctor calmly confirmed our observations, and my wife did me proud.

She followed through on her promise to her friend. She did not let her suffer.

We were back home by 9:45, and my wife spent a few minutes alone with her at my car's hatch/trunk wrapping her up in old blankets. When she was ready I carried Ethel to the rear of the yard and gently put her in her final resting place. We put two of her favorite balls in with her. It took me more than an hour to dig that hole, but less than ten to fill it in.

I cried the entire time, and I can't help crying now. It may sound ridiculous, but I was not going to leave her body at the Vet's office to be cremated along with a half dozen others. She was not just another dog, she was Ethel, and an Angel of God in her own way. This was her home, and she helped us make it a happy one. This is where she belongs, and she belongs here always.

Seven and a half years ago when Fred died, I wrote his story. Tonight I will write Ethel's. It is the least I can do for a Angel that didn't have wings, but had plenty of soft fur, and a very wet and sloppy tongue.