Rainbow Bridge Memorial

Dearly missed by Caroline and Loren Jennings

Yesterday we lost our Beautiful Shelby, our Baby Girl, Shibble-Dibbles, Stompy McGee, and all the other daft names we thought up for her. Bone cancer, as vicious as it was quick, robbed her of any quality of life, took away her ability to walk, and eventually even lay down comfortably. The small yips of pain we thought were due to a neck injury turned to yelps and eventually paralyzing howls. In six weeks, she was gone. This insidious disease took my girl too soon.

Shelby was, as my husband Loren put it, an “excellent dog”, a pure sweetheart through and through. Her patience was endless, her calm infectious, every Shelby-kiss and nuzzle a gift. Her love for lying down and watching her humans was matched only by her love for cheese. Even now I still expect her head to poke around the kitchen corner when I open the fridge, ears pricked high, eyes expectant.

We would sing to her, silly little songs, and sometimes she’d sing back, moofing along in her own Shelby way. She never ran, she lolloped along, bounding in a way that told us she was never much of a racer but that she didn’t love running any less because of it. Our trips to the beach unleashed her inner puppy and she’d hurtle along as fast as my human legs could keep up with her. I hope now, she’s running free somewhere.

She liked to be where she could see us, always around somewhere, quietly watching us, taking comfort in our nearness, and we would take comfort in hers. It’s amazing that such a quiet, gentle creature can leave a silence and emptiness that rages so loudly. We miss her very much. We hope that now she’s out of pain, and still watching us in her own quiet way, with as much cheese and peanut butter as a dog could ever hope for.

Goodnight Baby, we love you

Caroline and Loren
Your forever parents
*moof!*