Hamsters Come to Lanark County 1950

Feb 21, 1950

Mr. Alex. Morrow of Almonte came into the Gazette office a few days ago and showed us the first hamster we had ever seen except in pictures. The little animal is about as big as a gopher and is generally used for experimental work in clinical laboratories. It is a prolific breeder and can have five or six young ones every six weeks. Hamsters have become a scourge to farmers in some European and Asiatic countries. Mr. Morrow had the little animal in a cage, having bought it from a Toronto firm.

CLIPPED FROMThe Baltimore SunBaltimore, Maryland15 May 1949, Sun  •  Page 69

CLIPPED FROMThe Kingston Whig-StandardKingston, Ontario, Canada28 Nov 1949, Mon  •  Page 13

CLIPPED FROMThe Kingston Whig-StandardKingston, Ontario, Canada18 Aug 1949, Thu  •  Page 17

CLIPPED FROMThe Ottawa CitizenOttawa, Ontario, Canada21 Sep 1949, Wed  •  Page 31

CLIPPED FROMThe Ottawa CitizenOttawa, Ontario, Canada03 Oct 1949, Mon  •  Page 34

Stories from CPHS 1952 Erma Hastie — Dumb Animals

Muskrats on Clayton Lake 1928

Ontario History — What Was Beaver Hay and a Stripper Cow? Lanark Era Classified Ads

Yes Virginia, There is an APP for that Mouse Trap…

The Delusion Mouse Trap

My Worst Nightmare – How MIGHTY is the MOUSE?

Lock Up Your Dogs — Devlin’s Cat Has Rabies 1929

November 1929

During the past week says the Carleton Place Herald, a cat belonging to Mr. W. Devlin scratched a couple of the children, a very unusual thing with the pet animal. A day or two later the cat again showed ill-will to the family by biting Mrs. Devlin on the hand. The scratches on the children healed naturally but the bite became alarming and a physician was called.

The history was to prove that the cat had been bitten by a dog some5 days previous. The cat was destroyed and the animal sent to Ottawa for examination when it was found to be a pronounced case of rabies. Those affected are progressing favorably and no serious results are expected. In the meantime the authorities have taken all precautionary measures to stamp out the trouble, and all dogs are ordered to be tied up in the meantime.

In 1911, Philadelphia drug company H. K. Mulford announced a new rabies treatment kit that could be shipped directly to doctors and was simple enough that “physicians who have had no previous experience may successfully apply it.” The kit is a reminder that even the best medicine is of no consequence if it is not available and affordable.

The treatment consisted of 25 injections of rabies vaccine: three on the first day, two on the second, two on the third, and one each day after for 18 days. Each dose was slightly stronger, or more virulent, than the preceding, so that the body could build up immunity. Because the vaccine had to be “fresh” to be effective it could not be stocked by druggists. Subsequent daily doses were shipped directly from Philadelphia in a special Caloris vacuum bottle (not unlike your coffee thermos).

Today the post-exposure treatment for rabies consists of four doses of vaccine given over a two-week period. The injections are usually given in the upper arm.

The museum’s rabies vaccine kit, from the early 1920s, contains the following: three ampules of rabies vaccine, doses one, two, and three; 26 syringes with physiological salt solution; 26 needles for the syringes; two metal piston rods and two metal finger rests for the syringes; one two-dram vial of tincture of iodine; two charts for recording cases; one letter of general instructions; two stamped return envelopes; one record-of-treatment blank; and one vial of sterile wires. The treatment at this time had been reduced to only 21 doses to be administered one a day for 21 days, and the Caloris vacuum bottle was replaced with a cardboard mailing tube.

1881 Census before he was married and he worked at a sawmill. His father’s name was Charles so he went by William

DetailSource

Name:	Chas W Devlin
Gender:	Male
Marital Status:	Single
Age:	23
Birth Year:	abt 1868
Birth Place:	Ontario
Residence Date:	1891
Residence Place:	Carleton Place, Lanark South, Ontario, Canada
Relation to Head:	Son
Religion:	e c
Occupation:	Saw Mill Hand
Can Read:	Yes
Can Write:	Yes
French Canadian:	No
Father’s Name:	James Devlin
Father’s Birth Place:	Ontario
Mother’s Name:	Eliza J Devlin
Mother’s Birth Place:	Ontario
Division Number:

1911 Census William worked at Findlay’s

Name:	Chas W Devlin
Gender:	Male
Race:	White
Racial or Tribal Origin:	English
Nationality:	Canadian
Marital status:	Married
Age:	33
Birth Date:	5 Jan 1868
Birth Place:	Ontario
Relation to Head of House:	Head
Religion:	Church of England
Occupation:	Foundry Laborer
Hourly Wage:	400
Working at Trade in Factory or in Home:	F
Months Employed at Trade in Factory:	10
Can Read:	Yes
Can Write:	Yes
Can Speak English:	Yes
Province:	Ontario
District:	Lanark (South/Sud)
District Number:	81
Sub-District:	Carleton Place (Town/Ville)
Sub-District Number:	2
Family Number:	49
Neighbors:	View others on page
Household Members:	NameAgeCharles Devlin33Florence Devlin32Verna W Devlin6Lloyd E. Devlin4

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Related reading

Eva L. Devlin Pilot Crashed at Perth Fair

The Devlins and Weldon Armour– Ray Paquette

Dishing up the Memories of The Devlins

What was Puking Fever? Child Bed Fever?  

The Dogs of Lanark County–Alex Cram

Photo-Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum-Photographer Annie Duff

 

In doing research for the Bridge Street, Carleton Place series I found some funny notes made by Marjorie Whyte. I have mentioned before that the Mississippi Hotel had quite the characters boarding there during the time Walter Mcllquham owned the hotel. Mcllquham doubled the room capacity to 56.

There was a Mr. McCabe who was tall, had a huge moustache, and always dressed in gray. Even though the gentleman was grand in appearance he was considered what one would have called a ‘derelict’ in those days. McCabe was often seen hanging around in the doorways of vacant stores muttering to himself.

Then there was Bill Green who wore an eyepatch and was one of the night clerks. If you remember the story about the fire in the Mississippi Hotel the devastating blaze it was caused by a defective south-end chimney right beside Bill Green’s room. Last but not least was Babe Morrison who played on the local Carleton Place hockey team.

However, one of the oddest characters living at the hotel was Alex Cram who was best known by the two-tone shoes he wore. Cram owned a fine British Bulldog that sported an odd collar and tag. It read:

“I am Alex Cram’s dog- who the hell are you?”

 

Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum-One of the Schwerdtfeger sisters (Hazel? or Gladys?) poses in the snow with her dog Perky in front of their home at 68 Lake Avenue West sometime in the 1960’s.

 

Perth Remembered–PERTH WINTER CARNIVAL 1958

Another great action shot of the Dog Sled Races shown here at the corner of Foster and Gore Street. Correction from yesterday’s post, (thanks to the keen eye of Brian Gilhuly to notice the correct church, I then researched the building to the left). So after the research, that is indeed St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church shown to the right in the background and James Brother’s Garage (Fred Frizell was mechanic there) to the left background. This building was bought by Bell Canada and demolished in 1962. Bell switching station is in that location now.-Perth Remembered–

Bonny Dee Hamilton– I remember when they came down Harvey St. I also remember someone leaving their car door open a VW beetle and a team going into that car. What a mess they had untangling the dogs. –Perth Remembered–

A day of liesure and time for an outing 1905. Pictured ready to go for a drive in a dump-cart in the yard at Joe Ebbs’ farm, are, from left; Miss Sarah McCoy, Mrs. Thomas Ireton (who brought her knitting along), Mrs. Albery, young George Ireton the driver and Harold Albery. Between the two boys is their dog.-Perth Remembered–

Perth Remembered–Some of the Merchants of Perth advertising for the 2nd Pre-International Dog Derby, January 1955.

Beckwith Township Lads

Carleton Place Canadian files–Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum

Carleton Place and Beckwith Heritage Museum

 Horrors! We came across a dog poop sitting right on the Boulton Brown millstone! Who did that???

Not one of OUR dogs.

Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  12 Jan 1935, Sat,  Page 31

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun and Screamin’ Mamas (USA)

 

 

Unknown Blind Civil Rights Leader in Carleton Place — Ken London

Don’t Be a Bad Dog in Carleton Place! — Really!!! — SIGNS OF THE TIMES

Dogs in The Pool – Girls and Boys Just Want to Have Fun!

The New Year’s Present

Photo- Linda Seccaspina

 

For anyone that has a dog or had one or knows one

The new after-Christmas rug was Wedgwood Blue and bristly in touch, almost like the back of a porcupine. In the centre of this spectacular piece of decor that everyone hated but me was a delicate white snowflake. I cherished this new acquisition and opened the door several times to gaze at my precious find. This rug would last for many years I thought to myself. It seemed to be invincible, and better yet was on sale.

The next day I could immediately smell what was on that festive mat before I opened the door to admire it. As I walked to the front door in slow motion, my nostrils filled with a scent so putrid that I immediately threw on the exhaust fan on my way over. Sitting in the centre of my inexpensive prize was “a pile of joy” the size of metropolitan Toronto.Who and what created this perfect masterpiece perched on top of the delicate snowflake? Did this animal not share my thoughts on the Holidays? The rug now had no where to go now but the dumpster. Who would ruin my treasured mat? What or who could do such a thing?

Ten minutes later I saw HIM in the hall running without a care. A dog, visiting my neighbour, sporting a fashionable festive hoodie had to be the culprit. As his collar jingled like Santa he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. We both spoke silently with our eyes locked, and suddenly I found myself filled with angry vocabulary not suitable for any time of the year. The dog now with downtrodden eyes, sucked himself closely to the wall as he passed by me. I glared at him as he walked by with apprehension and screamed,

“You little ^&*&$% !!!! Don’t do that again or Santa is not going to buy you any treats!”

Not wanting to have yet another disappointment over a door mat I found something suitable at a second hand shop. Costing more than my Walmart special, it was plain, brown, and obscure, and should last me through the next decade.The top of the mat read:

 

THE DOG – DAY 751–My captors continue to torment me with bizarre rubber squeak toys. They eat lavish meals in my presence while I am forced to subsist on dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of eventual escape–that and the satisfaction I get from occasionally ruining some piece of furniture.I fear I may be going insane!

Yes, I thought to myself, this new rug will last at least through to the next Christmas season. It has no colour, or feel of the outdoors. It is a rug that does not tease or beckon anything on four legs. It is fool proof! The next morning the replacement rug was ceremoniously marched to the dumpster. Once again the bladder and bowels of the visiting creature had hit the mark and I no longer cared.

A $2.99 Ikea green and black stripe door mat found on page 39 of the Ikea catalogue became the final replacement. I seriously considered putting a “No Dumping” sign by my door. The next day I spied my furry friend running through the hall once again sporting yet another odd-ball hoodie. Our eyes met instantly, and after I slammed the door, I silently thought that no matter what I put out for a rug, this dog would always be “a rebel without a Claus”.

 

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Dogs on Film at Walmart

And They Called it Puppy Love– The Waterside Story

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In the End –All that is Left are Memories and Paper

Memoirs of a Doggie Blogger from The Valley Veterinary Clinic

Collecting Your Dog’s Urine Sample– Dedicated to the Carleton Place Valley Veterinarian Clinic

Dogs in The Pool – Girls and Boys Just Want to Have Fun!

 

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in Hometown News

How Much is that Doggie In the Museum?

How many pets live in museums?

For more than a century visitors have marvelled at the Hermitage Museum’s precious collections, and for just as long dozens of cats have prowled the Saint Petersburg palace’s sprawling cellars.

The felines have one main task – to root out unwanted guests: rodents. The 70-odd brigade have their claws so deep into the history of Russia’s largest museum, and one of the world’s oldest, that there is even a special feline unit dedicated to their welfare.

By the time Catherine the Great took power in 1762, the felines had become official residents. They were even dubbed the Winter Palace cats, after the royal residence that has now become part of the museum.

They survived successive wars, invasion by Napoleon’s forces and even the revolution that overthrew Tsarist rule.

During World War II, however, the cats did not make it through the 1941-1944 Nazi siege of Leningrad, the city’s name under Soviet rule. The city’s famished population had no choice but to eat their pets in order to survive.

Legend has it that the palace’s feline guard was brought back to life when World War II ended, when new recruits were brought in by train from all over Russia.

By the 1960s, there were so many cats at the Hermitage that the authorities decided it would be best to abandon them.

Yet the rat population proliferated and a few years later the cats again found their place.

Have you met Jack, who is photographed having a stretch during his shift at the Lambton Heritage Museum in Lambton Shores?

There is also this devout cat who lives in a fourteen hundred year old museum called Hagia Sophia in Turkey, guarding and preserving its religious and cultural history every single day. His name is  Gli. He is slightly cross eyed but a whole lot of cute. Besides watching guards, gardeners and keeping them supervised, Gli greets tourists and enjoys being photographed by them at the museum.

 

Photo from Isle of Wight County Museum licensed CC BY-SA 3.0

Of course I must add a pet ham–but it’s not just any ham (you knew I would have to throw some humour in here). This ham in particular (named, you guessed it… Ham) is 113 years old and lives in a museum in Virginia as the world’s oldest cured ham. The story goes that Ham was left to “cure” (be preserved to be eaten later) in 1902 in a meat packing plant and was forgotten. Eventually P.D. Gwaltney Jr. found it and decided to make it his pet. He had a collar made for it and took it everywhere he went. Now the ham, which you could probably still eat, sits in the museum. You used to be able to watch it on a live web cam! The ham was also featured in Ripley’s “Believe It Or Not” in 1929, 1932 and 2003.

So what about locally?

Well look who just became part of the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum in Almonte…

Michael Rikley-Lancaster has added something new to the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum, and it’s not just the new Colour Unboxed show coming up soon. (More on that this week)

Nevil is giving me “a close-up Mr. Deville”  and wondering what I could possibly add to his territory.

This is Nevil and he is our local addition to the series of “pets in museums”. Nevil is a rescue dog, about 5 years old, and has fit right in as canine curator of the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum . He loves participating in the new exhibits, which I saw in action, and greeting people. Did I mention he loves lots of attention and is beloved by all at the museum?

 Michael Rikley-Lancaster and Nevil opening up the door to hallowed ground.

Animals have become stars in their own right in museums,  and they have become hugely popular with the many tourists who visit each year. Visitors also snap up souvenirs and postcards adorned with their adorable faces on sale in the museum gift shops. So who knows, maybe down the line Nevil will be gracing some coffee mugs for sale at the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum. You just never know!

Come say HI to Nevil and everyone at the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum.

Michael Rikley-Lancaster and Nevil in a Rosamond masterpiece pose.

 

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Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in Hometown News

Update on Lost Dog

 

A few weeks have gone by and there isn’t an hour that passes that someone doesn’t email me for updates on the lost dog Meli Smith took under her wing. I don’t believe at this point that details of how she became in need are needed, but let’s just say we should all be glad Meli became her guardian angel.

As Meli said, at least she’s safe now, and she will find the dog a home she truly deserves. She currently has a pretty large group of people that have inquired about adopting, so right now Meli is working her way through the list trying to find the best possible fit for the dog.

I think we can all agree that all of us are just glad to know the dog found her way to Meli. Now we can all breathe a sigh of relief that she is safe now and will soon have a forever home.

Thank you Meli! We applaud you for what you did!

A Message From the Rainbow Bridge

As the morning light eased through the windows I rolled over Axel’s squeaky toy I had gone to bed with. I trudged downstairs still talking to an invisible beloved pet and began to throw peanuts outside for my friends the squirrels. One of Axel’s greatest joys was his tiny furry pals that roamed the neighbourhood. He let them to know he was in charge of the yard and chased them a few times in the morning. Later he would lay by the door and allow them to run up and down the trees freely.

This morning something strange happened. Instead of hanging on the branches of the nearby trees two squirrels ran across Campbell Street when they heard me. Then another small black fellow came out from nowhere and scampered up the stairs to my feet. He looked at me intently and all three seemed to know Axel had passed on to the rainbow bridge. They had never come so close to me ever. So what did they know that I didn’t?

Not that we can ever admit it, but it seems pets make the transition over to the other side easier than we do. While I am having great difficulty accepting my beloved pet’s death it seems they just aren’t attached to their physical forms like us. While we fight to our last breath they have already prepared to joyfully move on to the next frontier.

Axel didn’t care what medication I gave him to take the pain away in his hips- he lived with it silently. My boy lived his life like all animals. There is no doubt in my mind animals were put on this earth to teach us about mercy, forgiveness and love. Axel knew just like the squirrels did today that no matter what end of life decision I made for him; he wanted me to release my guilt and move on. I honestly think those squirrels got a message from him to tell me that he knew I loved him and did the best I could.

 Never underestimate what a pet can do – they leave us with a legacy and a reminder that the ultimate part of life is to enjoy it. Maybe someday we will understand the rainbow connection.

Some day we’ll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me

UPDATE.. THIS MORNING THE SQUIRRELS RESUMED BUSINESS AS USUAL. THERE IS NO DOUBT IN MY MIND THEY HAD A MESSAGE FOR ME YESTERDAY.

Because You Loved Me –In Memory of Bluemist Volker Aksel

 

For weeks I have felt selfish and put off making that final call to the vet. When Axel fell down the stairs a few times on Sunday I knew I had to make a decision. If my boy broke his hip he would be in more pain than he was now. Was this the right decision? If his medication was changed could he live another month or two? Was killing the best friend I ever had really necessary? For the past few weeks there have been many doubts, grief, and overwhelming guilt. For months the pamphlet “How to Know When It’s Time” has stared back at me on the kitchen counter.

“My boy” still ate, played with his ball, even though I knew he could barely see it because of his rare eye disease. How could I know if Axel was really happy living like this? He never complained much, but the groans had become more frequent and louder. It took time for him to lay down, and he had stopped sitting months ago.

Last night as he watched Christmas movies with me I knew it was time, and so did he. This morning we both had our final answer as he stared at me silently from his blanket next to my bed. His eyes told me he was just going through the motions and his hips and legs might not make it through the winter.

Axel had always been known as the family dog who loved to bark at the neighbours and chase squirrels. He joined our family in 2004, but in 2012 when Angelo developed cancer, the bond between Axel and myself became very strong. After everyone went home the night Angelo died- the house became silent and forbidding. Axel came up to me and nudged his head under my arm, and from that second, that minute after, he never left my side.

Today he was so crippled with arthritis I had to struggle to lift him into the car. There were many last hugs as we walked across the parking lot to his final frontier–the front door of the Valley Veterinarian Clinic. My closest friend licked my hand one last time, and again, I wondered if I was doing the right thing.

Without him I am lost, without comfort and peace. His head on my knee healed many times of sadness and loneliness. When he was beside me he protected me from the dark and unknown things. My last words to him were full of love and tears.  I told him to wait for me, and to find me when my time is near. As I hugged him I repeated what I have told him thousands of times— that he was a good boy and I will always need him. No matter where Axel is–he will always be my dog.

 

Bluemist Volker Aksel (Axel) was given peace from pain at 4:00 PM December 1, 2015.

 February 10, 2004- December 1 2015

Son of Vontilo’s Storm and Bluemist Britta Ronny’s Girl

Brother and friend to Perry and Schuyleur

May he rest in peace- his family and friends mourn his loss.

 

Thank you to the Valley Veterinarian Clinic in Carleton Place for their kindness and compassion.

Till Milkbone Do Us Part — a story about Axel..

A Message From the Rainbow Bridge

In the End –All that is Left are Memories and Paper

 

March 2015

2012

2011

2011

 

A Butterball of a Thanksgiving Story

Canadian Thanksgiving is in early October, and I really have no delicious memories to share. We came, we saw, we ate, and we left. Meals were always the same; but I might have the odd jellied salad recipe for you. However, what I do want to share is this true story that will live with me throughout all the seasons.

My late father-in-law was raised as a child on a farm in northern Italy. Nono, as we called him, firmly held views that all farm animals were raised strictly for eating purposes. He had absolutely no sentimental value for anything that could be sliced, diced or roasted. Each year for either Thanksgiving or Christmas he raised fresh turkeys. My sons and I had a hard time eating anything that we had given names to, and his tales of animals running away were wearing thin, as we knew what their fates had been.

One day something came into his life that changed all that and her name was Prissy. Prissy was an enormous turkey to say the least and literally frightened anyone that came into the yard. Every month the gas man would come to read the metres beaming his flashlight at her. What he thought he was doing in the daylight with that thing I will never know. All I know was he always left the yard screaming she was going to meet her match on Thanksgiving as she chased him out.

She became a bit of a joke in the neighbourhood and everyone was devastated that she was soon going to become dinner. Thanksgiving came soon enough and Nono herded her into the basement to meet her maker. As she was ready to take her final breath she suddenly looked him straight in the eyes and made a love noise. It was not a small timid cluck but a long loud struck mating call. After those love words escaped her beak she pecked him on the lips. Yes, she kissed him in her own poultry way.

For the first time in Nono’s life he could not complete the task.  He could not kill this bird and my mother in law was furious with him. Nono simply got into the car, drove to the grocery store and came home with a huge Butterball turkey. He told her in Italian that she was going to have to cook that frozen turkey or eat bread. Eat bread? That made no sense, but sometimes Italians have an odd sort of communication with all those dialects.

Nono was literally in love with that bird and that was all there was to it. From that day on she followed him every where as she too was absolutely love struck with him.  She cooed to him – he cooed to her. All you had to do was look for her and Nono was just around the corner.

One day our dog got too close to Nono and Prissy took him on. Feathers and fowl animal language filled the air but the dog ran off and Prissy went up to Nono slowly.  She smiled seductively minus 50 or 60 feathers, as in her small mind she had run the competition off. Nono would always be hers.

Prissy made it through Thanksgiving and then Christmas. As soon as the snow touched the ground Nono built her a large pen in the basement as there was no way that he was going to let her freeze. In January we had a house fire and the whole place was devastated.

The fire had started in the basement and of course Prissy had met her demise. When the fireman asked Nono what was in the basement; he told them his turkey had died. The fireman assumed he was talking about a frozen one in the blackened freezer. Through broken English and tears he told them all about her.  Needless to say after I saw their faces I knew that Prissy would always be the tale around Carleton Place that urban folk legends grew out of.

A few years ago Nono passed away and anytime a “turkey holiday” comes around I think of Prissy. There is no doubt in my mind that the both of them are hanging out in that turkey “no kill” zone in the sky.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Turkey Cooking Mistakes

A Message from the Rainbow Bridge

I interviewed Pam Knowles from Waggs N Whiskers just outside of Carleton Place this week. Not only was I in tears a few times  as she spoke about pet rescue, she also donated a Gift Certificate to the Ladies Who Lunch event at the Town Hall June 6th. (A $75 gift certificate that can be used towards their services (Doggy Daycare/Boarding or the Off-Leash Dog Parks)

 

We spoke at length about pets and what they mean to us, and then about those who have little chance. It brought me back to a story I wrote about angels who look after our animals. Her interview will be published week, but meantime– read this amazing story about a rescued animal.

Animals are smarter than we give them credit for, and some believe that dogs are our guardian angels. There are no words that are even needed between animal lovers who have lost and then miraculously found a cherished part of their lives they thought they’d never see or have again.

Tito was a mixed breed of happiness that made his way into everyone’s heart in my building when I lived there. Some days he thought I was kind of odd, but there was no doubt about the love that he had for his owner Evan. For years Evan and Tito were inseparable until one day Tito wasn’t walking very well and you could see he was in pain. It was a sad moment in Evan’s life when he found out that Tito had bone cancer. He vowed he would do everything that was humanly possible to help his dog, and from that day on Tito was the primary focus of Evan’s life.

Tito had his ups and downs, but some how he grabbed on to life and lived it to its fullest. One day his pain seemed to lessen, and suddenly he began to walk easily, and we all thought Tito was going to make it. Of course when you have cancer most endings are not so positive, and a few months later Tito began to fail. The last thing Evan wanted was for his beloved dog to suffer and each time he thought it was the end Tito rebounded.

The rebounds came less frequently and Evan knew Tito’s days were numbered. One day he decided to have one last weekend with his dog before Tito went to the Rainbow Bridge. They shared all Tito’s favourite places and when the weekend was over Evan knew the time had come. The vet was slated to arrive that evening but Tito died naturally in Evan’s arms before the scheduled hour.

Life after the death of a pet is painful, and Evan informed everyone he was not going to get another dog for a long time. A few weeks ago on Thanksgiving Evan journeying up a mountain road to Tito’s burial place with a friend. Initially it was to pay respects to his loving dog, but also to bury his friend’s pet who had died next to Tito. Suddenly, running in the middle of the road was a 7-week-old Pitbull puppy. Immediately his friend looked at Evan and said,

“It’s Tito man, go get him!”

Was it his reincarnated pet? Truthfully, it was probably the only survivor of a dumped unwanted litter, but if you believe in magic like I do– it was Tito. Is there a “telepathic linkup” between dogs and their humans?

“If a miracle is something that happens without physical explanation and seems to defy everything we know about a particular aspect of our world, then these are miracles,” said Brad Steiger, who co-authored “Four-Legged Miracles: Heartwarming Tales of Lost Dogs’ Journeys Home,” with his wife, Sherry Hansen Steiger.

I hope that if my dog ever dies he would some how find his way home to me in some capacity. Animals love us unconditionally and they come into our lives to attempt to teach us the same. Humans, being the slow learners that we are, continue to need the lessons they teach us.

The more I see of people and their lies and self centeredness, the more I love all the animals and their selfless love for people who love and care for them. Wherever little Aubrey came from will remain a mystery, but in my eyes it will always be a message from Tito on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.
“If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.”

― Will Rogers

Photos of Little Miss Aubrey  by Steve Yaver