Craig Kleber a True Santa to the Animals

We recieved a wonderful Christmas Gift from our wonderful Animal Friend, Craig Kleber,
" I am donating $1000 in memory of a dog who passed away that was rescued by Araceli Camacho  but also for your recent dog friend losses too, Joey'

                                                In memory of  unconditional love.

                                                                   

                                                                                       Dieguito 

Little ' Dieguito' was born on May 3rd, 2006 in Los Angeles CA in the humble home of the Camacho Family! He passed on, unexpectedly, November  20th, 2015. He was the second of 7 siblings. He was a joy to the Canacho home for 9 beautiful years! His unconditional love taught people around him many lessons. 
Being a dachshund type dog his body shape caused him to have a herniated disk and that led to his departure from this earth. His family did everything possible to make him better but it was nearly impossible! His pain and suffering was unbearable for him and those who treasured him. 
When it was time to let him go his caring mother, Araceli, held him until his last breath left his body and his spirit went to heaven. The Camacho family misses him so much yet they know that he is no longer in pain and at peace. As Araceli said to me "he will forever remain in our hearts! Dieguito we will always love you! "
Bless you Dieguito 

In memory the Happy Street Dog Joey

Joey was the happiest stray dog down in Campania, Italy. With his love and positive attitued he was loved by many Italians, Brits and Americans. He touched so many hearts.

I got a message from Carol Mander Yeomans asking if we could find Joey a home. Stray, getting older (not in his mind at all) winter was coming....I said yes we would find him a home.
Jolene Callahan took him into her home during the health check and passport (helped us great during that time it took, Thank you)

Joey came to me and he was wonderful, deaf, positive little guy. He had a tough stabile charisma that told the other dogs to accept him. And they did, right until the end heart emoticon

No one answered on Joeys adoption add. Maybe because he was black...maybe because there are millions of dogs searching for homes out there!

He was loved, so much loved....and I didn't get to have you for a long time, but you are forever in my heart. 

Joey, you got your wish granted, to fall a sleep outside in "your" freedom with me by your side. 

Thank you my veterinarian Martina (Germany) for helping me with Joeys wish heart emoticon

Freedom Joey. I miss you so much. heart emoticon

That's Amore
Mia Olivia Max

Thank you dear Craig Kleber for helping so many animals and remembering them even when they are gone. You are an amazing true Animal Friend that is making a huge difference for many broken lives.

Craig, a true inspiring man that makes promises come true, a four legged Friend can always trust him...and AWL.

A WONDERFUL SOUL LEFT US TODAY

Today at 12.53 we lost beautiful soul. Kiki Maus  RIP

I was never scared of adopting a senior dog, quite the opposite. I saw so much more coming out of it. The maturity, calmness and peacefulness of an older dog, I found so appealing.

Kiki was a hospice client. When she came to us, it was love at the first sight, we all loved that dog with the longest ears and legs. She was fast on those legs when she put her nose down to the ground and ran in circles in the garden. Kiki was 14 years old when she arrived, and had been on a short chain most of those years. She was an Italian Hound dog, with a long, slim nose and a long, seal-like neck. One day at the hospice a terrible accident had happened with her, and I couldn’t forgive myself. I rushed her to Dr. Damiani’s office where a long surgery had to be conducted immediately. I whispered in Kiki’s ear that when she survived, she would come home to me.

Four years of friendship and love she gave to me, this amazing girl. With the strongest heart and an attitude as being Margret Thatcher, she gracefully mingled around my other dogs. Kind and gentle to all, and all respected and seemed to love her dearly. Our Kiki Maus.

Some say it’s a short time to adopt a senior dog. For us the quality time was long, that is why it was easier to let her go.
Would I turn down a friendship because I know we wouldn’t see each other forever? Traveling and living 4 years here and some years there, would I turn down a new friendship since I know I won’t live there forever?
Memories and time are equal with the love that comes out of everyone’s heart. If you don’t dare to love and invest, so scared to lose and be sad, then you are afraid for your own love.

Kiki my wise woman, I thank you for these beautiful 4 years, you are my light and my wisdom. Go in peace and tell them across the Rainbow Bridge, that we are doing our best to be able to love as much as you do.

The power of unconditional love.

When my wonderful veterinarian Dr. Martina came, you hadn’t been up on your legs since last night. With your wise eyes you looked at us, wagged your tail and lifted your leg for a last belly rub. I cried and smiled at the same time, I hugged you, I kissed you and told you to run quickly over to the other side. Go now!

I could feel your joy, and excitement to be totally free. At 12.53 this afternoon, your heart stopped, but my heart will forever go on for you, my Kiki Maus. I love you so.

Shiloh spent the last weeks sleeping together with Kiki, seemingly guarding her and making sure she was okay through the nights. This afternoon Shiloh has been guarding her from the pack. She growls, she jumps out at the other dogs to stay away. She doesn’t want anything to happen to her friend. And, as she had done when our dear Labrador “Ranger” died tragically in 2007, she lovingly pushed the blanket around Kiki with her nose, as if tucking her in for her body’s long slumber.

That’s Amore!

Mia Mattsson Mercer

CEO/AWL

FOREVER IN OUR HEART

I saw her picture on FB. She was gorgeous. Big and gray-black with a wonderful smile, or was it her aura I saw?

Her name was Colomba and she was a senior dog that had been in a not-so-very-nice shelter in Southern Italy since 2005. In a cage with some other dogs and all together maybe 180 dogs.  All on concrete floors, and in a kind of darkness. The volunteers worked hard to do something; you could see in their eyes how tired they were. 

In the picture she sat in the sun, and around her neck a big thick chain. On our way down to Napoli we made a big turn to the eastern coast of Italy, into the shelter to pick Colomba up. My joy was enormous. Olivia who normally loved shelters and who always was my best volunteer didn’t like the place at all. She became very sad.

Colomba was mentally tired and we lifted her into our SUV. She smelled like a big horse barn with pigs and everything else included. My children sat and held their noses for the 3 hour trip to our Hospice in Lago Patria. There were a lot of giggles.

She was full of matted hair, and a big lump infection hanging from her neck. We had a veterinarian for a very short time at our clinic that did a fantastic job trimming her matted hair and generally helping Colomba.

Colomba loved her room at the hospice, with bed and mattresses. She was such a good girl, no accidents.  When the volunteers opened the door she would run out into the garden do her business, then straight back up to her room again.

In December, Colomba went in as an emergency to Dr. Damiani’s clinic for a long surgery. She made it through the surgery, our brave lady.  At the same time she also had dental work done. She came back to the hospice and recovered wonderfully, our Princess.

She was so loved by many, and they cared so much about her. The volunteers were amazed over how well she did.

Then one day recently, her internal organs started to say, “stop”. Cancer was growing fast within her, and we could see she was not doing very well. We worried, “another hard surgery and she would get maybe a couple of months?”  Was it worth putting her through the pain and suffering to only forestall the inevitable for so short a time?  Or would we could give her the peace that she so deserved.

My heart cried since I wanted her to have so much more experience with freedom, to love her bed, her room, her volunteers to have more of her around them.  But I realized then freedom was what she would truly get if I let her go --- her ultimate freedom.

My wonderful Colomba, it is a little while since you left us but my heart wouldn’t let me write. It was filled with such tremendous pain. You had a little taste of one kind of freedom, now you can lay truly free in the grass across the Rainbow Bridge, and wonder at the butterflies that are dancing on the warm breeze around you. Colomba, I am sorry life wasn’t better for you, but I hope you felt all of us loving and adoring you at the Hospice Casa dell Amore.

Forever loved. That’s Amore

THE LOVE FROM RAINBOW BRIDGE CREW

The rescuer at Rainbow Bridge

Unlike most days at the Rainbow Bridge, this day dawned cold and gray. All the recent arrivals at the Bridge did not know what to think, as they had never seen such a day. But the animals who had been waiting longer for their beloved people to accompany them across the Bridge knew what was happening, and they began to gather at the pathway leading to the Bridge.

Soon an elderly dog came into view, head hung low and tail dragging. He approached slowly, and though he showed no sign of injury or illness, he was in great emotional pain. Unlike the animals gathered along the pathway, he had not been restored to youth and vigor upon arriving at the Bridge. He felt out of place, and wanted only to cross over and find happiness.

But as he approached the Bridge, his way was barred by an angel, who apologized and explained that the tired and broken-spirited old dog could not cross over. Only those animals accompanied by their people were allowed to cross the Bridge. Having nobody, and with nowhere else to turn, the dog trudged into the field in front of the Bridge. There he found others like himself, elderly or infirm, sad and discouraged. Unlike the other animals waiting to cross the Bridge, these animals were not running or playing. They simply were lying in the grass, staring forlornly at the pathway across the Rainbow Bridge. The old dog took his place among them, watching the pathway and waiting, yet not knowing for what he was waiting.

One of the newer dogs at the Bridge asked a cat who had been there longer to explain what was happening. The cat replied, "Those poor animals were abandoned, turned away, or left at rescue places, but never found a home on earth. They all passed on with only the love of a rescuer to comfort them. Because they had no people to love them, they have nobody to escort them across the Rainbow Bridge.” The dog asked the cat, "So what will happen to those animals?” Before the cat could answer, the clouds began to part and the cold turned to bright sunshine. The cat replied, "Watch, and you will see.”

In the distance was a single person, and as he approached the Bridge the old, infirm, and sad animals in the field were bathed in a golden light. They were at once made young and healthy, and stood to see what their fate would be. The animals who had previously gathered at the pathway bowed their heads as the person approached. At each bowed head, the person offered a scratch or hug.

One by one, the now youthful and healthy animals from the field fell into line behind the person. Together, they walked across the Rainbow Bridge to a future of happiness and unquestioned love. The dog asked the cat, "What just happened?” The cat responded, "That was a rescuer. The animals gathered along the pathway bowing in respect were those who had found their forever homes because of rescuers. They will cross over when their people arrive at the Bridge. The arrival here of a rescuer is a great and solemn event, and as a tribute they are permitted to perform one final act of rescue. They are allowed to escort all those poor animals they couldn't place on earth across the Rainbow Bridge.”

The dog thought for a moment, then said, "I like rescuers.” The cat smiled and replied, "So does heaven, my friend. So does heaven."

— with Michele Leatherwood.

IN MEMORIUM OF CODY

I apologize that I have not been updating AWL 's blog in a couple of days, suddenly I must have gotten writer's block, or more emotional block. In life you can met someone and for a very short time you get very attached to that person or animal. It recently happened to me.

A couple of weeks ago I recieved an e-mail from a family who was devestated. Their 10 year old fury friend had biten their one year old daughter, not once but twice. The ER doctor that stiched their daughter up told them they had to put the dog to sleep. Imagine, your best friend that lived with you, moved with you all the way from Hawaii, slept in your room, went on big walks....now you had to put him to sleep. Of course their daughter was most important, but guilt and friendship is difficult to handle all the same. They would walk around rest of their life getting memories that they had to put him down.

Cody didn't like puppies or children in his face, and most of this family's friends had children. It would always be nervousness and unease, worrying if Cody would bite again.

They made an appointment to euthanize their buddy. But the veterinarian on base told them to call me. Every day I get many e-mails, and many of them are "if you don't get my dog we will throw him into a shelter."

This one was so emotionally strong, not begging...explaining with a frustration, or confusion, or resigned saddness.

I wrote back that I wanted to met Cody. Maybe he could stay at the hospice?

I met the family, and Cody walked right up to me and gave me his nose to nose, not a lick and then he laid down away from me. I could sense his kindness, and how much they loved him.

They told me that "grandma" in Hawaii could take him, they only had to wait for his passport, that would probably be ready in the middle of November.

I thought it was brilliant! He would stay with us at the hospice and then we would ship him to Hawaii. Although about 10 years old, he was the picture of good health and could have many good years left.

The family came and droped him off, we were all smiling over how Cody was the only one who got his own room on the second floor, with a bed and a view out to the lake and mountains in the distant background. The other oldies couldn't make it up the stairs.

Cody had a huge stuffed dinosauer that he carried or slept with. He got his mom's pillow on the bed so he could still smell her sent. "Mom" felt so bad, she cried even if she knew he was safe now. She felt like she had deserted him.

We kept e-mail contact and they came and visited Cody once in a while, and he was so happy to see them. They played catch and cuddled in the couch. Always, they sent a thank you note to me afterward.

One morning at 0500 Cody came down as always and we greeted each other, then he went out and made his buisness. I was standing making the food when I suddenly felt something wasn't correct, Cody was not standing behind me drooling for his breakfast. I called. No answer.

I ran up to his room and outside I found him laying having a strong seizure, it was the most difficult thing I ever seen. His whole body was in such a cramp. Next to him laid Angel, our 17 year old blind male had walked up all the stairs to lay down next to him. I sat with Cody, trying to comfort him and figure out what to do. Behind my legs laid my own German Shepard, Zara, supporting me.

It was now 0600 and I called our veterinarian's home and woke him up explaining what was going on. I knew I needed to do something. Valium! I ran downstairs, made a shot, back up and gave it to him.

I carried him down to my SUV and drove like a maniac to the Emergency animal hospital that pulled me into a room right away.

He stayed there for 24 hours and his blood test was great, healthy. Poison or tumor? We searched the hospice for any trace of a poison that he might have gotten into. Nothing.

They couldn't medicate him since they didn't know what it was, I took him back to the hospice, with the instruction to come back if he got a new seizure.

His family was there visiting him, of course with the painful question, "What had happened?"

He came back to the hospice and was ok for a couple of days, but I could sense something was wrong. I noticed that when I called to him, he looked the other way. I took him to our veterinarian for tests, a new blood test and by Dr Fransesco who is a brain specialist ( forgive me, I know he has a fancier name than that).

He made some tests with his legs that showed there was something neurologically wrong, but what? Whatever it was, was happening so fast to worsen his capacity as a dog.

The x-rays, MRI and CAT scans with specialist were up in Rome, three hours away, but an appointment was made. The family would drive the next day.

The night before Cody started to become sick again. I gave him valium like I'd been advised, but he stopped eating. During the night he had several small seizures but was able to sleep in between them. But when the morning came, he started to be worse. Kate his wonderful mom, came driving and we put Cody gentlely in the car on his blancket with his beloved dinosaur next to him. Off they drove at a high speed, up to the specialists in Roma.

Hours later I received the news, "'Cody didn't make it. He had a big tumor in his brain. Thank you for everything you have done for Cody and us."

This was last Friday, and still I don't go up to the room he slept in. I miss Cody so much. We volunteers joked that Cody was such a good guy, loving and funny making the hospice to feel lively, like a home. We all felt Cody was special.

So interesting in life how a short relationship can tattoo your heart with such strong feeling. I can never image the pain his mom must be going through right now.

I try to comfort myself with the thought that "whomever" planned this did it so we could get an answer. If Cody would have been put to sleep after he bit their daughter, maybe maybe his owner would feel guilty frequently through life for putting their best friend down. Now, with the tumor they get to feel closure and show the world that Cody wasn't a dangerous dog, something else triggered his behavior in the end. Something his gentle nature couldn't overcome.

At the hospice we have a puppy, "Gracey Lynn," who really was hanging in Cody's face. He never ever did anything to her, I was amazed. I even told him "Cody you can tell her 'no'" but he never would, not even a little warning snarl. My children were with me, other children came and visited. I told them what I knew about Cody and told them to let him be...and they did....and so did he. He really was such a great dog.

Farewell, Cody. We hope you and your family will be reunited one day, across the rainbow bridge, where you can run and play again, forever.