Making a Difference... one Dog at a time!

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Last Updated:
6/5/2024 7:29 PM


Rainbow Bridge

Maui was the sweetest boy, with so much love to give. He was the protector of his corner spot of the couch, the king of the pillow pile, and the best brother to his cat sisters. Chasing a tennis ball was his absolute favorite activity. The day he crossed that rainbow bridge was unexpected and devastating. Maui left a huge hole in our lives when he left and we will never forget him. We love & miss you our sweet boy.

Laycee found her Furever Human in April 2012 after being rescued by COSR. Laycee was very shy and timid, she played well with the other rescue Sheltie’s in the Furever home that she choose. She loved going for walks with her mom but no one else could walk her, she would sit her butt down and would not move off of the porch. She always told us when it was 9am because it was treat time. In early December she was diagnosed with kidney disease and sadly Her Hooman’s had to escort her to the Rainbow Bridge on Christmas Day because symptoms had gotten worse. She will be Furever greatly missed.

We lost a very sweet soul. From the moment Quincy came into our lives on January 30, 2014, it was as though he knew he was where he belonged. His Sheltie "brother" Mickey welcomed him to his forever home! Quincy was always a perfect boy! He was so easygoing and so very loving and one of the smartest dogs we've ever had the pleasure of knowing. We never knew much about his previous life, when his birthday was or exactly how old he was! We loved him! Thanks COSR for saving him! Last Friday morning, August 2, 2019, with broken hearts, we gave Quincy the greatest gift of love that could be given to him! Farewell, Quincy! Your paw prints will forever be on our hearts!

Morgan wasn't really a dog... At least she certainly didn't think so. I'm not really sure what she was and I'm also not sure that it can be defined by a single noun. She was shaped like a dog, but that's where the similarity ends. Morgan was angry, un-affectionate, gassy, rude, unhelpful, uncooperative, occasionally destructive, and a source of constant glowing joy in our lives. She was broken in so many physical ways but made up for it with the completeness of her spirit and attitude. She hated affection and would grumble if you tried to pet her. She was constantly disappointing people who saw her because they would kneel and expect a dog-like loving and friendly reaction. Morgan wouldn't do any of that. She would check if the human had food and, if no food was apparent, would sneeze and ignore their greetings. She was clearly above all that and we thought it was the most charming thing ever. She also had a tendency to get stuck in corners and try to walk in doors on the hinge side. It took physically redirecting her to get her righted again because she was completely uninterested in human opinions. She had her own way of doing everything whether she knew how to do it or not. She was perpetually convinced that the world turned based on her whims even though all the evidence implied otherwise. She was a juggernaut all wrapped up in a tiny sheltie body. She didn't believe in barriers and would keep walking even when there was something in front of her that she couldn't climb. That isn't something that generally goes well for a sheltie with a bum leg and full-body arthritis, but Morgan didn't care because she could (eventually and with much difficulty) climb mountains. She was a master at telling time, and never let us be late on a meal. She would spend the preparation wobbling around the kitchen kicking us with her bad leg until her food had finally been prepared. The other dog is required to wait at his food spot for supper, but learning wasn't Morgan's strong suit so we let it slide. She also was very strict about bedtime enforcement and if we dared to talk after it was "time to go to sleep", she would position herself to block our eye contact and grumble until the lights went out. She had terrible arthritis but was convinced that humans needed constant supervision and could not be trusted so she would get up and follow people around even if it clearly was a painful endeavor. There was no dissuading Morgan. She made us laugh. Her unwavering attitude was a source of hilarity even on the worst day because Morgan didn't believe in taking days off. And my goodness, we loved her. We adored each and every one of her quirks because they made her Morgan. She may not have necessarily loved us, but we didn't mind. She was unable to differentiate between people and inanimate objects that were vaguely people-shaped. She once tried to convince a telephone pole to give her a treat. She also attempted to batter the coat rack into giving her an early supper. But we weren't offended, because we knew where we fell in the court of Morgan (above house plants but only because she didn't have thumbs and couldn't reach the treats on her own). Gradually we are transitioning from the tears of pain and grief at her loss to tears of joy and thankfulness at the wonderful life we had with her. I am so thankful that she was part of our family. As we all sat in the "comfort room" at the vet's with Morgan in the middle, she settled down and fell asleep naturally and on her own. I like to think that she was at peace because she had finally finished her grand task: to get all the humans in her life in one room where she could see them all (the coat rack unfortunately had other appointments to keep). That's when we knew it was time to call in the doctor to help her not be in any more pain. Our pain is far from over. The hole in our hearts aches every time we get home and she isn't sneezing at us in excitement for her cookie time. It aches every shower in the morning without her knocking the shampoo into the bathtub trying to remind us of breakfast. It will continue to ache every time we walk past her favorite sleeping spot where she could keep an eye on everyone. And we will miss her. But we know that, in the end, the right decision was made, and our lives have been changed forever by her wonderful presence. We will always be thankful that our paths crossed and we had the opportunity to be her humans. Thank you, Morgan, for tolerating letting us feed you, and allowing us into your flock. You will never be forgotten.

Brooklyn was Rescued by COSR in 2012 and adopted out to a Senior Home. She had a slight disability but a Personality that was easy to fall in love with. After what must have been some Spinal Strokes, her condition became such that her Senior adopters couldn’t care for her completely, so they contacted COSR and surrendered her back to Rescue in 2016. It became obvious to COSR volunteers that day, that Brooklyn would need to remain a Forever Foster because she couldn’t walk, or even stand up in the yard to do the “Potty Thing” without being held up by her new COSR Forever Foster. COSR was up to the task and Thanks to our Generous supporters, She was fitted for a Doggie Wheelchair within her first few weeks back at COSR. Because Nobody was up to adopting a Handicapt Dog in a wheelchair, She remained with her COSR foster until the date she was escorted to the Bridge. Six months into her wheelchair bound life as a Loved COSR Forever foster, her Kidney’s started failing rapidly. She was a trooper at first and actually enjoyed the closeness of her Foster while being administered fluids daily to help her Kidney’s remained flushed and somewhat operational, but after 6-8 months of this and with her Kidney’s in near complete failure, She let her foster know that it was her time to cross the Bridge. After 24 hours of nothing but being Spoiled and Loved on, her Foster carried her into see Dr. Shields one last time. Our Rescue Executive Director arrived that Saturday morning to love on Brooklyn one final time before she left us. There wasn’t a Dry eye in the Room!

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