Disaster aid for animals + action for all hurt by greed, cruelty, hate.
EDUHEARTBEATS
Stanley
Something About Stanley
An Awakening And Silent Night
The unceremonious moment occurred as I watched HBO's To Love Or Kill: Man Versus Animal. During the Kill part, my world stopped. I clung to my Lhasa Apso, Stanley, and my orange tabby, Tikvah. Then I looked into Stanley's eyes. What I found was a soul, endless and deep. All the pain, courage and stamina of the animal kingdom spoke to me through this little creature's eyes. That night, long forgotten cries crushed my indifference. Billions of nameless deaths walked through my apartment. I was awake. I was alive. And my life would never be the same…
Stanley Schmanley Shoss. At 7:20 pm Stanley took his last breath. I thank everyone for words of hope over the last three years Stan fought kidney disease with valor. He swam in the Black River. He saw the Grand Canyon. He gambled in Vegas. He schmoozed at AR2005 in Los Angeles… He lived and died with stubborn confidence, loved beyond reason. I want you to know Stanley. He was the greatest dog in the world, a true force of nature who inspired (along with his BF Tikvah, a grand orange cat) Kinship Circe. 7/2/91 to 12/27/05.
A soul, endless and deep.
Stanely, person in a muppet suit?
Flat Boy.
Flat as a pancake, at the top of the steps. From the bottom, I see a head with dark saucer eyes. “When will she get here?” Waiting for mommy. I watch you in all your places, familiar and constant. You scramble for couch space. Wide eyes calculate the jump. Then splat into a sprawl over covers, pillows, toys. In every room. You fold into any small spot — just to slide up against me. Offer a wet face bath. Roll on your side for a belly rub. Everywhere I am, you are there. I know the distinct jingle your tags make. Rooms feel empty without you.
The Pant.
Unmistakable. Urgent puffs of anticipation. Plop me a room, blindfolded, with 100 dogs. I find Stan in a sec. It's the pant. You fill each breath with a “What's next?” Or a Sigh of Contentment. You circle, dig and draw designs in any couch or bed top. Once optimal position is acquired, you inhabit the space with a signature sigh. I'll hear it forever.
The Underbite.
Snarl-Tooth Lhasa. In later years, missing teeth color the underbite black-white. But still, giving me the look.
4th-From-Top Step.
There are 14 steps to our 2nd floor, but one step belongs to Stan. At the 4th-from-the-top step Stan takes a breather. There, I rally him to finish the ascent. The 4th-from-the-top step is Stanley's. Lhasas are not known for climbing skills. As age, arthritis and failing sight slow Stan down, we develop a Push-In-The-Tush system. Stan uses his front legs as I harness his hindquarters with a gentle arm lift. Push. Hop. Rest. We Push-In-The-Tush about 3 or 4 steps, break, and continue. Completion is always a big deal. Stan rewards me with kisses.
The Look.
Always my partner, from an aisle walk at our wedding to a Stan welcome for our newborn son. No man gazes into my eyes the way you do. Your focus, fixed. Unfaltering. With head cocked, you hang on every word. I suspect you can actually talk, but remain silent to honor the Animal Code of No Human Language. Still, for 14 and a half years you speak in a nuanced medley of growls, barks and glances.
The Waddle.
Stan Commands the Boulevard. A dignitary on tour, with entourage. Steadfast soldier, in charge of the sidewalk.
Sock Thief.
Stan is an equal opportunity sock chewer: Boyfriends, husband, kids, guests. You try to retrieve your tossed sock. But no matter the angle, a lone snarl tooth and menacing growl state: Your sock is history.
The Build.
Tiny butt and hips behind a glorious head with long floppy ears. Short legs with a sway-backed belly inches above ground. On June 29 Stan turns 14. We see the Grand Canyon together on a road trip. Picture this: 1-foot tall Stan at The Grand, windblown and fearless. Much like Stan at The Pier on Lake Michigan in Chicago. Serious and taut like a Doberman. Except he's a goofy Lhasa. But don't tell Stan.
Silent Night
Silent Night, Holy Night
All is still, qone is light.
Stanley Schmanley
My shadow, my smile.
StanBear, Nanners
So precious, my child.
Sleep in heavenly peace…
Sleep with the angels, my Stan.
Stanley, my man
Little Napoleon
Waddling down the street
King of your own fleet.
Snarl-tooth Lhasa,
My underbite boy.
Stanna Banana,
My reason for joy.
Kiss my Tikvah, dear Stanley…
Play among angels, my Stan.
How will I exist
Without your sloppy kiss?
Intense little Man
Your head between my hands.
Look to me Stanley,
Just one more deep stare.
Growl, bark, see me…
Through sun, trees and air.
Mama's Boy you are forever…
Good night Stanley Schmanley, my love.
Crossing Over. Wagon rides around the neighborhood, take-out fettuccine from the finest Italian restaurants, warm baths and blow-dried fur… Stan lived to the last moment. On the day of his death, my 5-year-old son was home from school. Elijah and I gave Stanley a long soothing bath and dried his still silky fur. Stan liked the feel of the soft air close to him. He was very relaxed. Around 6:30 p.m. Stan had his evening meds and food. I held him up by his tail so he could relieve himself on the grass. I then laid him gently on his doggie bed. Near the end, I carried him from room to room on this bed because he couldn't really move.
He died about 30 minutes after we lit the Hanukkah candles on Tuesday night. He was in my bedroom, on his favorite doggie pillow, clean, nourished, loved. At 21 pounds, he hadn't yet wasted. He died naturally, in Stan time. On 12/27/05 at 7:20 p.m., Stanley was no more.
Homecoming.
Stanley Schmanley. The Schman. A puppy comes home in a box. Feels five minutes ago. Tiny legs barely clear grass. The size of a guinea pig with stubs for legs. You puke all over my car seat. A two-pound Ewok with worms in your belly and a grin on your face. It's love at first sight and teaches me I can be loved back. Why Stanley? Well, ya look like a dude with 'tude chomping on a cigar. And chomp you did, on Tweetie, chew toys, socks… Stanley is an intense, beautiful Lhasa Apso. I miss his humor, kisses and love. Something about Stan grips me in the most maternal way. He is, no doubt, keeper of my heart. I never failed Stanley. We faced each challenge as a team.
Stanley & Tikvah.
Given The Choice, Stan Prefers Cats. Namely, Tikvah. The inseparable playmates roll around my apartment like orange and white tumbleweed. Tikvah stalks Stanley with the stealth of a puma, until he moves in all wiggly for The Pounce. Then he jumps so enthusiastically he lands atop Stanley piggyback style. Stan's response? A sort of dumbfounded, “Where did he go?” For years before my animal clan expands to include Rebekkah (a gorgeous Tabby pastel) and Cleveland (a Lhasa-Poodle), Tik and Stanley rule the manner. Each time I return home, I find them side by side staring at the front door, as if to say: “Well, it's about time you got home!”
Stanley & Cleveland.
Clevey plays omega dog to Stan's alpha. Though my gold Lhasa-mix stands over Stan, the warrior midget is in charge. Stan choreographs Cleveland's affairs: food, my attention, toys, couch space. On the flip side, they're inseparable. Two black noses at the top of stairs. Two waggy tails walk down the aisle at my wedding. For the 2-1/2 years I administer Stan's subcutaneous fluids, Cleve is by his side. During Stan's last month, with kidneys so broken he can't walk, Clevey camps out on Stan's comforters, towels, pads. Moments after Stanley dies, Cleve lays his head on Stan's doggie bed and won't budge. Later, Cleveland and I sleep with Stan's empty bed between us.
Best Doggies.
Stanley and Cleveland walk down the aisle at the Farm Sanctuary vegan wedding of Kinship Circle founder Brenda Shoss and Grady Ballard. “If you could get married anywhere in the world, where?” Brenda's then procrastinating fiance had asked. “Hmm, I want a vegan wedding with my dogs and farmed animals as guests — not served on plates!” And so it became: Brenda and Grady marry under a huppah inside Farm Sanctuary's People Barn in Watkins Glen, New York. Guests spend an afternoon with the animals, followed by a vegan buffet. In fact, Brenda and Grady's wedding marks the first vegan wedding feature in VegNews Magazine, the start of a long-running feature!
Losing Stanley
Dear Stanley, Oct 27 2003: Today we begin. Life from this point will never be the same. New food. New medicine. Hope? What do I have as precedent? Tikvah, who died brutally and swiftly in my arms? Stanley, you are my last link to Tik. To us. The original three. Nov 9: Why are you losing more weight? Here I go again. No. Not. Stanley. No. No! I pray you have the guardian angel Tikvah did not.
May 21-25 2004: Stanley is now in kidney failure. Since his values first fluctuated, I treated preventively via diet and a holistic supplement. But Stan slowly rejected the kidney-disease foods, spit out his meds and stopped eating. When kidney values declined to renal failure levels, just this week, Stanley was hospitalized on IV fluids, phosphorous binder, and anti-nausea medication. I now administer subcutaneous fluids and phosphorous gel at home. Food is a bizarre journey. One day he survives on cookies and breakfast cereal! I try everything from baby food to burgers, but Stanley is a force to reckon with. He does, however, fancy Yves vegetarian ham. I am afraid to believe in miracles. Nothing we tried with Tikvah's cancer worked. In the end, I had five doctors from homeopaths to oncologists. But the miracle today is that Stan is still here. Barking, eating, kissing and bullying Cleveland. I don't know how much time he has, but I intend to be here for him.
Jul 2 2004: Stanley Schmanley Shoss celebrates his 13th birthday! These are the children who never grow up. Forever dependent upon us for survival. Devoted, affectionate. They die as they live, pure love.
Jul 9-10: Stan Floats the Black River. We take Stanley to the beautiful Black River in Southern MO — the river I floated some 14 summers as a camper and counselor at Camp Taum Sauk. I schlep the fluid bags, lines, meds and foods. He joyfully swims in a crystal clear river and socializes with many floaters this day! I will never forget the look of wonder in his eyes as we drift down river in the canoe. Or his little legs dog paddling in the water.
Jan 31 2005: The First Seizure. Around 8:00 a.m., Stanley experiences a full blown seizure. His tongue hangs from his mouth. He spasms so hard, his legs peddle air. I rush him to the vet in my pajamas. He involuntarily pees on me. Over Stanley's two year battle with kidney disease, he had random seizures. Then a couple seizures a month. In his last three months, the seizures clustered. During the final cluster, I shot valium into his rectum. We never knew the root cause, other than an “area of frenzy” in his brain and a lowered seizure threshold due to the kidney disease.
Feb 17: I inhabit a world of creatinine values, blood urine levels, electrolyte imbalances, elevated enzymes, phenobarbital, syringes, lines, needles, bags. Stanley has a seizure at 3:00am while in deep sleep on our bed. The shaking wakes me. As instructed, I time the seizure. It lasts under the 5-minute danger zone. I massage his acupressure relaxation points, a straight line from the tip of his nose to the middle of his upper back, and chant “Stanley, you're okay.” Dr. Lynch advises this, and it actually reduces the violence of the seizure ferocity. Jul 29: UT infections are a hallmark of kidney disease. Stan's UTI prompts a 105 fever, which triggers focal seizures that land him in the hospital. Vets ice him down and give intravenous fluids. This occurs the night before I am to attend a Summit for the Animals meeting in Chicago. His seizure threshold is so low, it seems anything can trigger one — stress, extreme heat, kidney degradation, UTIs, excess sub-cu fluids. Stanley has lived over a year since his initial crash. His kidney values have shot to near-normal at some points. Dr. Lynch's protocol is why Stan is alive. He's 14 and still harasses Cleveland, takes the random tumble with Isaiah, and waddles his way to centerstage. August: Stanley is California bound, to attend an Animal Rights Conference with his family. I hang subcu lines from rest-stop trees to give him fluids along the way…
Instructions for Stanley's Last Groom Appointment: Stanley is in the last leg of kidney disease. He also has random seizures. Dr. Lynch feels he may only live until Christmas. I kindly ask you to take extra precaution today.
- Dr. Lynch has asked that Vlasta wait to groom Stanley until she arrives and checks him out. He may only be able to get a bath.
- If Stanley gets a haircut, please save his trimmed fur for me in a bag.
- Please keep seizure-alert bells around Stan's neck at all times.
- Stanley cannot walk very well. When you take him out to pee, carry him to a grassy area. He may struggle to stand, drag himself by front legs, fall over. But if you gently hold up and steady his hindquarters, he can walk.
- Stanley cannot drink water from a bowl very well. Due to kidney disease, his thirst is urgent. Please give him water via syringe.
- Between 1:00 and 3:00 pm, please administer:
- 300 CC Fluids
- 3 ML Phosphate Binder
- 2.5 ML Petinic Vitamin
- Stanely should not go without food, due to wasting. You may have to hand-feed him. Prop him up over his food bowl. Sorry for all the instructions. This is a small portion of the caregiving I provide Stanley at home, to make his final journey as comfortable as possible. Because I love him so much.
Dear Stanley, Dec 19: When I imagine you not here, I am nowhere. You are comfort and love and laughter. Around every corner. At the top of the stairs, flat as a pancake, little black nose. The intensity of your doggie kisses. Cocked head, stepping back, then reaching in for the full frontal. So close Stan. My friend. My child. When the air that fills you is gone, how will I breathe?
Dec 20, about 2:00am: Stan struggles on weak legs. Goes stiff, head juts and reaches forward, gasping for air. Cry-barks. The sad seizure bark. Falls over. A seizure? A stroke? I carry him into the bathroom. Eyes rolled back in his head. Shaking. Completely gone. A coma? Death? But then I read to him. All my Stan Notes. And he awakens, he is still here. Then, the most amazing thing: Closer to death than life, Stan props his head upon my leg. He nuzzles in and looks up to me for a suspended moment. No shaking. No rough breathing. Just Stan and Mommy. Another window, swiped from death. Still, my grief is indescribable.
Stanley is in the final stages of kidney disease. I take him for rides in a child's wagon, which he seems to enjoy a lot. He can't walk anymore and is dehydrated, despite the 600 cc fluids I administer daily. His broken kidneys just flush everything through, except the toxins. That's kidney disease, a slow poisoning. Tonight he squirted bloody diarrhea over the tarp and pee pads that line my bedroom floor. Pieces of Stan. I can't put him back together. I can't fix him. God, please help me. I cannot pull the breath out of Stan. I am horrible. And weak. In a haze. Help me. Help Stan. My child. I cannot let go of my child. God, please hear me.
Stanley, I love you with every nerve ending in my body. So strong. A mother's love. Let me let you go. I cannot let my child go. How do you let your child go? How The F--k Do You Do That? He is Stan. My Stanley. My beautiful baby boy.
Dec 24 2005: In a cruel twist of fate, I learn my younger dog Cleveland has diabetes! I usually get a break between diseases. My home looks like a triage center. When I take Clevey to vet for day-long insulin tests, I bring Stanley. Not for treatment. We are in hospice. But I need my vet to tell me if he is physically suffering. To my surprise, he still weighs 21.5 pounds. His normal range had been 21 to 23. My vet feels he is not in pain. But the 15 or so seizures leave him mute and nearly blind. He probably sees shadows. The toxins from final-stage kidney disease cause some dementia. He is not totally vacant, but not totally Stan either. He finds comfort in my touch and voice. I talk to him about everything! Sometimes he looks me straight in the eye for long moments. The other day I wheeled him down to Flynn Park. We sat in the grass listening to kids, dogs, birds. He felt the wind and smelled all the smells. I know he likes to be outside. I feel he is saying goodbye to this world.
Fans Of Stan
Sometimes the people closest to you don't let you fully grieve. I am blessed to have an online family who understand this is the passing of my child. Like you, I have my grieving rituals. I'll bury Stan in a casket filled with bits of his fur intermingled with my hair, photos, a first leash, scarf, toys, notes. Stanley's head will rest upon the small pillow he loved near the end. At the present moment, I wear Stan's smiley-face dog collar as a necklace. Something about the jingle of his tags near my heart brings peace. I even had my license renewed, wearing his collar. So for the next couple years, every time I look at my license photo, Stan's tags are front and center. I know time un-sharpens the pain. Thing is, you must wait for time to happen. So I am grateful for all of your words, even though I don't have the space to print every one. Brenda Shoss, Kinship Circle Director & Number-1 Fan Of Stan
Julia Sharp, How do you live without your shadow and smile? You love them and know that you have done your very best for them. You honor them with life, love and memories. You look out to the sun and see them in that light. You see them in the grass and the scent of the flowers. You remember them with love and honor. You feel them touch you when the wind blows gently by. And you open your heart to another sweet life. Not to replace the one you lost, but you love another to honor the one who is gone.
Jane Garrison: I just read your email with tears rolling down my face. There is never a good time to say goodbye to our babies and there is nothing that I could say to take away your hurt. Just know that I am thinking of you and sending you love. I completely understand everything you say about Stan making you laugh. Codi has been my main man for 16 years and always has kept me laughing! I do not look forward to the day when I have to say goodbye to him. These little fury beings have a way of taking over your life and heart and it just hurts so much when they are no longer physically there. Stanley was lucky to have you. When I die I want to come back as him. Love, Jane
Karen Dawn: Oh Sweetheart, I am so terribly sorry to think of you going through that this holiday season. But I'm happy that you and Stanley had each other for so long.
Pia Salk: Oh Brenda, you gave him such a gift as his dedicated mother! He died on my father's birthday, both wonderful males who've passed. Maybe they've somehow met and my father can offer comfort. I send you love. I wish I could have met him. He sounds like quite a special guy!
Carol Tavani: I wish I could make the hurt better. Stan was the luckiest boy in the world for a life so few enjoy. The holidays were rough for me without Benny and Maggie, but I try to go on for the living, my beloved furbabies and all the ones we strive to help. I know Tikvah will help you get through, as he always did, and will welcome Stanley, whom he loved.
Steve Svoboda: Am sorry to hear about Stanley. I'd say he had a very good and long dog life. He was very lucky to have you as his guardian. Former victim of Stan's sock thief days. Fully recovered, with a few less socks.
Janice Blue: Dear Stanley, You are beautiful and quite the celebrity in AR circles. You are so loved by your Mom, family and many admirers. You must be proud of Brenda too, all she does to help animals, and how she answered the call to “go south” for Katrina and Rita animals. You should know, sweet Stanley, that her love for you compels Brenda to take on the role of “Wonder Woman.” She imagines every animal is as loved as you are and can't bear to think someone is heartbroken, looking for their beloved companion. You have been true soulmates. This must be a period of unbearable sadness for you both. Our hearts are with you and Brenda as we wish you a peaceful journey. Much love, Janice Blue, Wild Blue Garden & Animal Sanctuary
Eileen Kinghorn: I feel your heartache so much. It is a very painful time for you and your family. My thoughts are with you, truly. I know exactly what you mean about looking into Stanley's eyes and hence his soul. Animals are beautiful. They teach us so much. They touch the soul like no human being ever can.
Camilla Fox: Just read your poem and it brought tears. Just last week, I had to say goodbye to my dog, Zaela's best buddy of 8 years. I held her, Skeeter, as she slipped into the next world, and shed an ocean of tears. My thoughts are with you. Camilla xo
Veda Stram: I thank you with every single solitary hair on my body, with every beat of my heart, with every eyelash and whisker, with every breath from my little schnoz for giving me the most wonderful, glorious, fulfilling and happy life anyone could ever hope for. Thank you for having me, and of course Tikvah, inspire you to create Kinship Circle that has been singlehandedly responsible for saving billions upon billions of lives. I'm a happy camper now with only happy thoughts, piles of snacks, acres of pillowy beds and Brenda-inspired snuggles. Love ALWAYS, from Stanley Schmanley Shoss
Stanley Schmanley
Judie Mancuso: My tears and deepest sympathy are with you this sad evening. I know what a great loss this is for you.
Liz Dubuis: Very sorry about Stanley. He was a brave boy.
Kenneth Deneal: Last Spring I lost my beloved Gidget, a poodle I obtained from Pet Pals shortly after Louise's passing. For 5-1/2 years Gidget gave cherished and undivided love. Her ashes lie on my dresser and will be entombed with me on my death. I now live with two miniature pinchers, both 10, each having spent the majority of their lives in puppy mills. Although I love both my thoughts, especially at night, return to Gidget.
Maggie Rufo: I had a Stanley, only she was a cat named Spook. I still miss her everyday, after 2 1/2 years, but the pain isn't unbearable any more. I'm really sorry. He sounds like he was a lucky dog.
Bruni: I've felt the pain. I am so sorry. How glad you were able to have such a great friend for so long. I'll pray for you so one day you will see Stanley. He will remain with you always.
Summer Beasley: I'm so very sorry to hear about Stanley. I am thinking of you.
John: Ah, Stan the man. Brenda my heart goes out to you all. Perhaps you could post your poem at www.petloss.com.
Stanna Banana, Nanners
Despina M. Andrelus: From your words, I know that despite the struggle, Stanley had a wonderful life and loved you dearly. I am of deep belief that he is in Heaven now, waiting for you when the time comes. Until then, his physical presence is missed dearly, but I know he is now an angel watching over you.
Lynn Miraglia: I am so sorry to hear that Stanley has left us. It is very clear how much he means to you and how much you both loved each other. Losses like this are the worst. I had a boy with kidney failure, he was nine and a half. He did not last very long once diagnosed, I think it was a month. He was my first dog as an adult. He was a Weimeraner. I can tell you that for 18 years I would look at a Weim and hot tears formed in my eyes. Reading your tribute to him made me smile. You have captured his characteristics and made him alive with your words.
Kelly Garbato: Brenda, I am a longtime subscriber of Kinship Circle. All the good you do on behalf of animals is truly awe-inspiring. I've never felt compelled to email you before, but when I heard about Stanley, I wanted to offer my condolences. I know it isn't much, but my thoughts are with you. It's obvious how much you loved your little man.
Jessica Higgins: Stanley is one of the chosen few, an animal with a human companion who gave him her all. He knows this! Lucky man, and lucky you to share so many years with him. Thinking of you and standing with you in your loss.
Stanley Manly
Laura Lassiter: My tears and deepest sympathy are with you this sad evening. I know what a great loss this is for you.
Jennifer Deason: Stanley's tribute is beautiful. I'm sure my eyes aren't the only ones to shed tears. You're in my thoughts as you mourn his loss and celebrate his life.
Melinda Rosin-Seltzer: I cried as I read your note and as I type this reply. My heart aches for you and I wish I could bring him back, and Casey. It is so hard to go through, as you know. You and he had a wonderful life together and he knows how much you loved him. He died in peace. Nothing unfortunately we can do to make them live as long as we do. I hope this week you can take it easy and take time for yourself. Wayne and I just clung to each other for that weekend when we lost Casey. We slept with her bed in our bed.
Bettina Rosmarino: So sorry Brenda.
Sharon Secovich: Stanley did okay for himself once he found you. You're the luckiest person in the world to have had the honor to care for him. Wish I could have known him.
June Bird: See You Later Stanley Schmanley. My thoughts are with you at this time Brenda. Stanley Schmanley is still one helluva dog and spirit never dies. He will be beside you until it is your time to pass over.
StanBear, Bear MaLere
Paul: I met Stanley at AR2005 and was deeply moved by his courage in the face of illness, and by his obvious love for others, human and canine. He was blessed with a mommy whose love sustained him through all travails. He clearly basked and blossomed in the glow of that love. May he rest in joy and peace, and may his mommy be strong in the knowledge that she made Stanley's stay on Earth the happiest a companion animal can hope to enjoy. There is no better life for an animal than to be the companion of an AR activist. Stanley unquestionably exemplifies that statement.
Mare: Brenda, A beautiful song! I'm crying my eyes out right now! He'll definitely play with my Tawdry, Vagan, Scamp, and countless hamsters, gone before me. I look at my Twinkie, at least 15 years old with heart disease, and wonder when her time will arrive. I know how you loved Stanley. You must grieve, no way around it, but rest assured he is now your angel.
Adela: Oh dear Brenda, I'm so sorry that it had to be. Stanley is now in peace, but while he lived with you he was the happiest being. He knew it and he loved you more than anyone in the whole universe! God bless his soul.
Debra Barlow, Hopeful Haven Equine: I'm so sorry for your loss Brenda, but know he's in a better place, waiting for you.
Carol Marcus: Oh Brenda, my deepest condolences. Please forgive typing errors as tears run down my cheeks. Know that you're both in my thoughts.
Standa Panda
Paige Alexander: I know your heartbreak. In June, we lost Sugar, our first-born child. We had him for 10 years. I honestly thought I might die. I would have felt more at peace if he was older like Stanley, and died of natural causes. You'll always know he had a long, wonderful life and that you did everything for him. Over time the sadness will fade and leave you with sweet memories. I am praying for you and Stanley.
Elizabeth Forel: Stanley sounded like the prince of dogs. They should come with a label “Warning: Will break your heart.” We are the lucky ones to have had them in our lives. I loved your Stanley song. Your love rings out.
Jack Jones: I remember Stanley at the AR convention. After my cat Cotton died I made a coffin and took her to the mountains for burial. I placed 20 lit candles around her grave, just before sunset. I thought of many memories we shared while watching smoke rise then dissipate into the last rays of light. I sat there until only the moon glow held my thoughts. Back at the cabin I heard a soft meow of thank you.
Buddy's Mom: I lost my dog Buddy this last spring and I am crying as I write this. I miss him so much. I keep telling myself I have to let him go. Peace Stanley. Go see my Buddy.
Rose Z. Moonwater: So sorry about Stanley's passing, your special man. Thanks for sharing about your relationship with him. So amazing. Please be as gentle with yourself as possible in this time. Part of us goes with them.
StAnley, StAn, StA
Evelin, For Stanley:
A heart of gold stopped beating.
Two shining eyes at rest.
God broke your heart to prove,
He only takes the best,
God knows he had to leave you
But he did not go alone.
For part of you went with him,
The day he took him home.
Kay K-O: Our prayers are with you, and my Barn Kitty has specific instructions to be on the lookout for Stanley and help him settle in. He was my resident manager here, and I'm sure he's carrying on in heaven.
Rose Z. Moonwater: So sorry about Stanley's passing, your special man. Thanks for sharing about your relationship with him. So amazing. Please be as gentle with yourself as possible in this time. Part of us goes with them.
Jeanine Taylor: I have a sense of how close you two were, and can only imagine how difficult this must be. It's comforting to know he'll have Tikvah to greet him at the rainbow bridge after the wonderful, safe, loving life he had with you.
Leesa Sklover-Filgate: So sorry Brenda. Bark may have to be put down this week. He has a lung tumor on top of kidney disease but each day I think I will do it, he is ok. I know how you feel, love you. My heart is with you.
Schman, The Schmanster
Zelda Penzel: Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die! — Mary Frye, 1932
The connections with our companion animals are sometimes deeper and stronger, in many ways, than those with humans. I know the heartbreak of holding on till the very last moment and the difficulty of letting go. Each animal who has graced our lives is so special and unique. That is how they are remembered. I once read that the reason our companion animals cross the Rainbow Bridge is so they can make room for another little one who so desperately needs a home.
David Meyer: What a wonderful guy Stanley must have been, and so lucky to have spent time with you. What more could any dog ask for? He is now fine and it is you who needs to be cared for. Some immersion is a good thing if you can do that. Take it a day at a time. Pain subsides, love endures. Forever.
Stan Banan, Banana Boy
Leah Devi: First I just have to say I am so incredibly sorry. I think I truly know how much Stanley meant and will continue to mean to you. Stanley was such an amazing spirit, and I pray for you that you are surrounded by truth, love and light as you grieve this loss. Secondly, I would love to make a small donation to Kinship Circle in Stanley's name, in honor of his memory. Please let me know what is the best method of doing so.
Janet Enoch: He made the decision for you. You can find some comfort in knowing that you gave him the very best life he could have ever had and that he loved you and you loved him with all your heart. He is feeling better now and enjoying seeing Tikvah again. They are back to wrestling like they use too, meeting new friends and patiently waiting to see you again. I am sure Kitty is with them too.
Joyce Friedman: Peace and love to you and Stanley. Your song to him is so lovely and beautiful. It brought many tears to my eyes. How lucky you were to have such a wonderful companion and how very lucky he was to have you.
Tanya Tuell: You painted a beautiful picture of a handsome, wonderful dog and friend. I've shed tears and wish I could help you. My nephews and I will honor Stanley with a small (totally amateur) drum ceremony, including a Native American prayer, held on the hillside by my house overlooking an open field and small stream. Stanley will be remembered as a generous spirit who provided you with love and companionship. Please know Stanley is, and will always be, in my heart.
Little Man Stan
Dan Robinson: Like you I recently lost my feline son Teddy who gave me unbelievable joy for 12 years. I share your grief and know what an emotional rollercoaster you are on. I hope that with time's passage and a smooth progression through the healing process you'll feel better. I am attaching a copy of the file I read during my guest appearance on Go Vegan Texas! concerning “Loss and Grief for Animals.” It is a brief summary of ideas on how to cope. Perhaps it will be helpful.
Gail Silver: I know what you mean, people get it or they don't. I am Jewish too, sitting virtual shiva with you.
MISSING, In memory of Freddy
Feb 1995 - Nov 2003
Lost, all clues, to days of rain that pounded leafy torrents into layers of veiny tissue paper; soggy browns and yellows cover any sign of you. These houses, dim and far apart as night approaches, must have loomed like blind unyielding giants. Perhaps you meant to look for me, feline instincts against the world, setting out to solve an absence long, unplanned, unfair. But you, so small and ill-equipped. The night here glues the pavement to the sky, a wall of black, and filled with things that lurk and pounce. All good things indoors or burrowed in the ground; small creatures hear my call for you and issue tiny muffled sounds from wet and rustling woods. Or heavy silence rises off of scraggly shadow-bushes, and I think you are no more. Then running, running, I think of years and all the times, relieved, I smiled when your small face, returned at last through pane-glass doors, with anxious eyes that searched for me to let you in and comfort you as only I could.
Stanbergini (low to ground)
Kathy: Sounds like Stanley was your Midas. I've loved my pets and grieved them when gone, but when I lose Midas, I'll be beyond consolation. Sydney's loss was devastating. The pain is still there after six years. His picture and head feather are under our tree and I have his bell on my bulletin board. His name is a part of my email address and I have his feather on my work desk. Maybe he is a spirit guide somewhere and will find your Stanley. But Midas is my dearest friend short of my husband.
Julia Fischer: Bren, so sorry about Stan the Man. My love and sorrow for you, my dear friend.
Kathi Mcdermott, Best Friends Animal Society: What a beautiful tribute to your beloved Stanley Schmanley.
Cheri: I loved it when you said “He was the greatest dog in the world!” Those that truly love their pets think theirs is The Best! Beautiful story and song, sounds like me singing-chatting with my “3 suns.” I'm truly sorry of your loss.
Priscilla Gargalis: I understand how much you love him. Spencer, a dog fur-son, is the light of my life. I'd marry him if possible. He turns 18 in Feb and we got him at 12-1/2, dumped by the only family he knew. Not a day goes by that I don't think about losing him. I kiss him 100 times.
Jacquie Macdonald: I take comfort in knowing that Stanley is with my lost loved ones, enjoying some peaceful place with love and comfort and of course, dog cookies.
At Times, Stan Is French
Kathy: Little did I know that I would follow you in losing a pet. Yesterday I took Penny, my old feral who has lived with me for 7 years, to the vet. Penny came with a litter and also took on two orphans. She had lived in a factory and was a true feral and she looked after her babies and her adopted babies so well. She was so scared when she came to me that instead of leaving her bed to use the litter tray she peed in it. Penny stayed with me when her kittens were homed and has lived in the house, never wanting to go out, just content to potter about and sit by the fire at night with the other cats and her son Mikey, who I also kept. I noticed over Xmas her breathing was a little fast and took her to the emergency vet who found nothing.
My own vet found a large heart murmer and mass. She tried to draw off fluid, but it turned out to be lymphoma. She said nothing could be done and asked my permission to pts while still under anaesthetic. I was so unprepared for this. I have to get her today and will show her to my other cats before I bury her under the hebe bush were other loved ones rest. I always show the other cats if anyone dies. They need to understand she has gone and I believe they know if they see them. I know she had a happy life, but as you know it is so painful. I love them all so much. So, we are grieving together my friend.
Anna Rajca: The last couple of years haven't been easy on you as you lost so many of your beloved animals. I don't know what to say except for that I am sorry and I know at least Kitty, Tikvah and Stan had good lives and knew they were loved. Hang in there.
Stan Commands The Boulevard
Lucy Peixoto: Although he's died a physical death, rest assured dear one, that Stanley is happy and healthy, waiting for you on the other side. For the rest of your life on earth, you'll always have an angel on your shoulder to protect you.
JJP: I went through AR2005 slides (rattlethecage.org/2005) again today. Handsome boy, that Stanley! I've noticed an interesting phenomenon among people like us, Brenda. Although we love all our animal family members maximally, and somehow expand with new members to love them as much, there is nonetheless often one who is the soulmate or touchstone. People find it hard to explain, because it isn't that one is favored or loved more. I recognized my soulmate when I lost him. Nothing else ever hurt worse. It seems that Stanley is your soulmate, whether measured by the joy he brought you or the despair of losing him. The last thing each animal family member does is break our hearts. It's the price we must pay for the privilege of having them in our lives. But what would our lives be without them?
Susan Costello: You don't know me, but I'm on your email list. I just read your ode to Stanley. It brought a big lump to my throat. Please know so many of us understand your grief and heartache. Thank you for the work you put in for the animals!
Lauren Hot: Remembering Stanley, I couldn't agree more. He was the happiest smiliest doggie even with his kidney problems. He was very lucky for you as a mommy and I'm sure he agrees. Hugs to you, your family, and Stanley.
Stan The Man
Tamara Ehlert, MD: Brenda, in light of Stanley's recent death: “Being a veterinarian, I'd been called to examine a 10-year old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. Ron, his wife Lisa, and their 4-year old son Shane were very attached to Belker and hoped for a miracle. I examined Belker and found fatal cancer. I told the family there were no miracles left for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they wanted Shane to observe the procedure. They felt he might learn from the experience, and realize that Belker would go gently.”
“The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's Family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion.”
“We sat together after Belker's death, wondering about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, listening quietly, piped up: I know why. Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, >People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life, like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right? Everyone nodded. The 4-year old continued, Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.”
Stanley J. Shoss
Judy Reed: I am so sorry. But, what a great joy I feel floating in this deep sorrow. I am truly sad that such a beloved friend has passed; yet, how joyful I feel that Stanley had a wonderfully full rich life with a beautiful loving parent. If only all the ones who aren't so fortunate could have just a taste of what Stanley enjoyed in your company. Stanley Schmanley knew how much he was loved and treasured and cared for. He knew it until the he took his last breath. He knows it still.
Kim Johnson: I read this tribute to Stanley while still in New Orleans. I couldn't read the song on that middle-of-the-night when I opened the email because I knew I'd cry, and once I started, I knew it would be a long cry. I couldn't even reply to offer my condolences and for that, I apologize. And I apologize for taking this long to catch up on emails and get back to reading about Stanley. I know how empty this loss feels now. I hope you've been able to find some moments of peace and comfort since his passing. Time does heal, but time moves at geologic pace after the death of someone so special. Take small comfort in knowing that he is no longer suffering, and that he watches over you every moment. He knows how much he was loved, and you know how much he loved you.
Laura Cortese: I write with teary eyes after reading your poem. Just know he'll always be with you. Even when you least expect it you'll hear him in the rustle of trees or see him in the flickering light of a candle. One more angel to watch over you.
Stanley Is No More
Tammy: I know this has to be incredibly hard for you because he was one of your children. Yet in the beautiful place that Stanley has gone he is able to walk like a sprightly puppy and bounce in the grass chasing after butterflies. He doesn't need daily subcu fluids. He can just curl into a ball to nap when tired and bask in the sunshine peacefully.
Caryn Ginsberg: So sorry to hear about the loss of Stanley, He was a champ until the end. He was lucky to live his years under your wonderful care. I hope 2006 brings joy.
Tanya Tuell: There have been more-than-I-care-to-remember stretches of time that I dreaded mornings. For just a few moments, as I awoke, I'd forget but then remember something terrible had happened. I've suffered my share of loss — humans, dogs, cats — and I've yet to figure out how to do it without the sense of panic. We all know that eventually we smile and laugh again but for me getting to that point is just so painful. You're right, the people closest to you often don't get it…
Cynthia Brown: I loved re-reading your poem. Reminds me of how: I used to couldn't wait to get home to see Sammie! I usta cry with worry when I traveled for work. I'd turn my head and expect him to be there, and he wasn't. I'd call the pet-sitters daily. He loved me as much as I loved him. He'd run to the door or car when I got home to greet me everyday. No cats I've adopted since are even close to the same.
KINSHIP CIRCLE2000
info@kinshipcircle.org314-795-2646
7380 KINGSBURY BLVD
ST. LOUIS MO 63130
NONPROFIT CHARITY
IRS SECTION 501C3
TAX-DEDUCT ID20-5869532
KinshipCircle.org
PRIVACY POLICY
SITE DESIGN: BRENDA SHOSS
