In Memory of Brownie 
I had lots of free time on my hands because I was working part time so I asked 
Beth Hall for a foster. I told her to give me the dog that needed me the most, 
without knowing that I needed him too. He came to us a complete physical wreck 
and became a beloved member of the family. 
Brownie was overweight, had no energy, but did have ear infections, eye 
infections and greasy, flaking skin. Our vet discovered he was hypothyroid, 
which accounted for many of his physical problems. A couple of weeks of 
synthroid, a good diet and a few baths fixed him right up. One thing he didn’t 
need any help with right from the beginning was his attitude. He loved people, 
loved hugs and pats, loved sitting on my lap, in general, he loved. Brownie was 
10 years old and had spent his entire life owned by one family who never let him 
inside. He was tied up in the backyard, fed a terrible diet and not given the 
attention he craved. It breaks my heart to think about that…because he was a dog 
who had so much to give people. Just being near me was enough to make him happy 
and he greeted me each time I came back to the house as though we’d been apart 
for AGES and he was THRILLED to see me. He was my cuddly, lovey dog. 
Brownie has his idiosyncrasies. His particular obsession was paper, which he ate 
with gusto. In his two years with us he ate three (partial) library books, two 
twenty dollar bills, several magazines, lots of tissues and scraps of paper. He 
also hated to get wet. Walking him when it rained was a challenge – you 
practically had to pull him around the block while he looked with longing back 
in the direction of the warm, dry house. Once we were at the beach and the waves 
came up and washed over his feet – the horror! He took off for drier sand and 
for the rest of the weekend he would not come near the ocean’s edge. 
His end came quickly. One weekend I noticed his breathing seemed labored, but he 
was active and enjoying his usual meals and activities. Sunday evening he 
collapsed – just fell over – he was not unconscious, but he just could not seem 
to get up. We rushed him to the vet where they found that the oxygen level in 
his blood was dangerously low. For two days the vets transfused him and tried to 
find the cause of his illness. Each transfusion perked him up, but within hours 
his blood tests showed lower oxygen levels. I could not continue the treatment, 
seeing how he was struggling to breathe, when the vet held out no real hope that 
he would recover. They could not find what was wrong and each transfusion only 
helped for a short while. Tuesday evening we let him go. 
We were both with him at the end. He left this earth with our arms holding him 
and our voices telling how much he was loved and how we would always love him 
and remember him. Two years with this gentle, loving, funny dog was not enough 
but I will always be grateful we had it. He was my friend and I miss him.