I LOVE YOU DEEJAY And I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND I KNOW THE CREATOR OF THE LIGHT IS ALWAYS WITH YOU AND GUIDING YOU AND PROTECTING YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY., NAMASTE!
If you lost a friend, know what he left you.
My worldly possessions are few and I leave everything for you:My mom master, my companion, my eternal friend ...
A collar bite, a little wooden house, a torn blanket, two bowls and a little bit of food still left in the package.
I also leave my medicine balls, fake a bone that is underneath the freezer, my baby carrots that rolled under the stove, but that may have damaged a portion of biscuits buried in our playground and my stuffed bunny that I domindo know you're still with him in my place.
I let that tattered carpet that was beside our bed.I used to scratching and biting my teeth when i was a baby, and now bag underneath the blanket.
Also, I leave you with the best and most intense memories.
Let the memory of two black eyes, a cute and short tail skewers and restless, a wet nose and cries behind the door because only minutes far away from you.
I also leave the memory of the times you fought with me to protect me, and also all my ability to forgive and forget.
I leave my favorite corner, in our bed, where I could always find shelter and during those days of fires and where I always felt safe near you.
I also leave and only for you, the noise I made when I was happy and barking at the front door, a reminder of times when we hung out for a walk, when you gave me those vegetarian dog biscuits.I remember you laughter, with my running and playing.
But mostly, I leave to you as inheritance, my devotion, my sympathy, my support when things were not going well, when raise my voice barking bored ... and my frustration when you could not give me the attention that asked for this busy to take care of me and my brothers and sisters and friends.
I also leave an example of patience, unconditional love, dedication and understanding.
I would be seeing you now, and be able to lick your nose one last time, that cleaning salt water that occasionally came out of your eyes. Wish I had been able to say goodbye one last time and barking.
All the parents is the world's best for your dog. But you were the best of the best. If I am allowed one last request, I ask you to be happy and all the affection and love that you dedicated it to me give everything to all other animals.They are out there by the thousands, dreaming of finding someone like you.
And do not worry about me. I'll be in good company. All animals including human animals we'll meet some day in our journey for our eternity.
And if one day allow the creator, I want to be with again, and rediscover it. I rest assured that this goodbye is just a "See you soon."
JUST I REMINDER YOU AND ALL THAT HAD TO SEPARATE THEMSELF OF HIS MOST MEMORABLE PETS .MAY I HAVE TO BORN AGAIN ON THIS PLANET.I DON'T KNOW WHERE AND IF I WILL HAVE A NEW GOOD HOME, NICE PARENTS LIKE YOU TO GIVER ME GOOD CARE.
PLEASE ALLOW YOUR ATENTION TO ALL CREATURE ON THE CORNER OR THAT ONE WAS HIT BY A CAR OR THAT HAS BEEN ABANDONED IN A SHELTER .BE SURE WHERE I AM I WAITING FOR YOU, FOR WHO LOVES THE WAY I LOVE YOU THE UNIVERSE NEVER SEPARATED FOREVER,MABE SOME REENCARNATION WE DID NOT WILL FIND EACH OTHER BUT I UD LIKE TO ASK FOR YOU TO DO ONE THING FOR ME TO HELP MORE ABANDONED ANIMALS NEEDED HELP AND PROMOTING OTHERS TO DO THE SAME THIS WAY NO MATTER WHERE I AM YOU KNOW THAT I WILL BE HAPPY AND SUPPORTED AND DO NOT EVER FORGUET SEND ME REIKI EVERY DAY!FROM YOUR PET HAD TO LEAVE YOU
MY LAST WILL TESTAMENT
MY LAST WILL TESTAMENT
I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER!
Last Will and Testament
I, Silverdene Emblem O'Neill (familiarly known to my family,
friends and acquaintances as Blemie), because the
burden of my years is heavy upon me, and I realize the end of my
life is near, do hereby bury my last will and
testament in the mind of my mom. she will not know it is there
until I am dead. Then, remembering me in his
loneliness, she will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask
her then to inscribe it as a memorial to me.
I have little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are
wiser than men. They do not set great store upon
things. They do not waste their time hoarding property. They do
not ruin their sleep worrying about objects they
have, and to obtain the objects they have not. There is nothing
of value I have to bequeath except my love and
my faith. These I leave to those who have loved me, to mom
and Mistress, who I know will mourn me most,
who has been so good to me,
but if I should list all those
who have loved me it would force my Master to write a book.
Perhaps it is in vain of me to boast when I am so
near death, which returns all beasts and vanities to dust, but I
have always been an extremely lovable dog.
I ask my mom to remember me always, but not to
grieve for me too long. In my life I have tried to
be a comfort to them in time of sorrow, and a reason for added
joy in their happiness. It is painful for me to think
that even in death I should cause them pain. Let them remember
that while no dog has ever had a happier life (and
this I owe to their love and care for me), now that I have grown
blind and deaf and lame, and even my sense of
smell fails me so that a rabbit could be right under my nose and
I might not know, my pride has sunk to a sick,
bewildered humiliation. I feel life is taunting me with having
over lingered my welcome. It is time I said good-by,
before I become too sick a burden on myself and on those who love
me.
friends and acquaintances as Blemie), because the
burden of my years is heavy upon me, and I realize the end of my
life is near, do hereby bury my last will and
testament in the mind of my mom. she will not know it is there
until I am dead. Then, remembering me in his
loneliness, she will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask
her then to inscribe it as a memorial to me.
I have little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are
wiser than men. They do not set great store upon
things. They do not waste their time hoarding property. They do
not ruin their sleep worrying about objects they
have, and to obtain the objects they have not. There is nothing
of value I have to bequeath except my love and
my faith. These I leave to those who have loved me, to mom
and Mistress, who I know will mourn me most,
who has been so good to me,
but if I should list all those
who have loved me it would force my Master to write a book.
Perhaps it is in vain of me to boast when I am so
near death, which returns all beasts and vanities to dust, but I
have always been an extremely lovable dog.
I ask my mom to remember me always, but not to
grieve for me too long. In my life I have tried to
be a comfort to them in time of sorrow, and a reason for added
joy in their happiness. It is painful for me to think
that even in death I should cause them pain. Let them remember
that while no dog has ever had a happier life (and
this I owe to their love and care for me), now that I have grown
blind and deaf and lame, and even my sense of
smell fails me so that a rabbit could be right under my nose and
I might not know, my pride has sunk to a sick,
bewildered humiliation. I feel life is taunting me with having
over lingered my welcome. It is time I said good-by,
before I become too sick a burden on myself and on those who love
me.
It will be sorrow to leave them, but not a
sorrow to die. Dogs do not fear death as men do. We accept it as
part of life, not as something alien and terrible
which destroys life. What may come after death, who knows? I
would like to believe with those of my fellow
Dalmatians who are devout that there is a Paradise
where one is always young and
full-bladdered; here all the day one dillies and dallies with an
amorous multitude of houris, beautifully spotted;
where jack-rabbits that run fast but not too fast (like the
houris) are as the sands of the desert; where each blissful
hour is mealtime; where in long evenings there are a million
fireplaces with logs forever burning and one curls
oneself up and blinks into the flames and nods and dreams,
remembering the old brave days on earth, and the
love of one's mom.
I am afraid this is too much for even such a dog as I am to
expect. But peace, at least, is certain. Peace and long
rest for weary old heart and head and limbs, and eternal sleeps
in the earth I have loved so well. Perhaps, after all,
this is best.
One last request I earnestly make. I have heard my mom say,
'When Blemie dies we must never have another
dog. I love him so much I could never love another one.' Now I
would ask her, for love of me, to have another. It
would be a poor tribute to my memory never to have a dog again.
What I would like to feel is that, having once
had me in the family, now she cannot live without a dog! I have
never had a narrow jealous spirit. I have always
held that most dogs are good (and one cat, the black one I have
permitted to share the living-room rug during the
evenings, whose affection I have tolerated in a kindly spirit,
and in rare sentimental moods, even reciprocated a
trifle). Some dogs, of course, are better than others.
Dalmatians, naturally, as everyone knows, are best.
So I suggest not pure breed as my successor. He can hardly be as
well bred, or as well mannered or as distinguished
and handsome as I was in my prime. My mom must
not ask the impossible. But he will do his
best, I am sure, and even his inevitable defects will help by
comparison to keep my memory green. To him I
bequeath my collar and leash and my overcoat and raincoat, made
to order in 1929 at Hermes in Paris. He can
never wear them with the distinction I did, walking around the
Place Vendome, or later along Park Avenue, all
eyes fixed on me in admiration; but again I am sure he will do
his utmost not to appear a mere gauche provincial
dog. Here on the ranch, he may prove himself quite worthy of
comparison, in some respects. He will, I presume,
come closer to jackrabbits than I have been able to in recent
years. And, for all his faults, I hereby wish him the
happiness I know will be his in my old home.
One last word of farewell, Dear momWhenever you
visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret
but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my
long happy life with you: 'here lies one who
loved us and whom we loved.' No matter how deep my sleep I shall
hear you, and not all the power of death can
keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail.
sorrow to die. Dogs do not fear death as men do. We accept it as
part of life, not as something alien and terrible
which destroys life. What may come after death, who knows? I
would like to believe with those of my fellow
Dalmatians who are devout that there is a Paradise
where one is always young and
full-bladdered; here all the day one dillies and dallies with an
amorous multitude of houris, beautifully spotted;
where jack-rabbits that run fast but not too fast (like the
houris) are as the sands of the desert; where each blissful
hour is mealtime; where in long evenings there are a million
fireplaces with logs forever burning and one curls
oneself up and blinks into the flames and nods and dreams,
remembering the old brave days on earth, and the
love of one's mom.
I am afraid this is too much for even such a dog as I am to
expect. But peace, at least, is certain. Peace and long
rest for weary old heart and head and limbs, and eternal sleeps
in the earth I have loved so well. Perhaps, after all,
this is best.
One last request I earnestly make. I have heard my mom say,
'When Blemie dies we must never have another
dog. I love him so much I could never love another one.' Now I
would ask her, for love of me, to have another. It
would be a poor tribute to my memory never to have a dog again.
What I would like to feel is that, having once
had me in the family, now she cannot live without a dog! I have
never had a narrow jealous spirit. I have always
held that most dogs are good (and one cat, the black one I have
permitted to share the living-room rug during the
evenings, whose affection I have tolerated in a kindly spirit,
and in rare sentimental moods, even reciprocated a
trifle). Some dogs, of course, are better than others.
Dalmatians, naturally, as everyone knows, are best.
So I suggest not pure breed as my successor. He can hardly be as
well bred, or as well mannered or as distinguished
and handsome as I was in my prime. My mom must
not ask the impossible. But he will do his
best, I am sure, and even his inevitable defects will help by
comparison to keep my memory green. To him I
bequeath my collar and leash and my overcoat and raincoat, made
to order in 1929 at Hermes in Paris. He can
never wear them with the distinction I did, walking around the
Place Vendome, or later along Park Avenue, all
eyes fixed on me in admiration; but again I am sure he will do
his utmost not to appear a mere gauche provincial
dog. Here on the ranch, he may prove himself quite worthy of
comparison, in some respects. He will, I presume,
come closer to jackrabbits than I have been able to in recent
years. And, for all his faults, I hereby wish him the
happiness I know will be his in my old home.
One last word of farewell, Dear momWhenever you
visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret
but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my
long happy life with you: 'here lies one who
loved us and whom we loved.' No matter how deep my sleep I shall
hear you, and not all the power of death can
keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail.
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