Rosie came to us from Lewistown, Montana in the dead of winter. We got her a cute little pink sweater for her potty trips outside. She hated it. (She still does.) The first time we put it on her, she stood paralyzed, afraid to move. (She still does.) We ignored the performance, trying not to give it any energy. When I looked back again, Rosie had lost her balance and rolled over on her back with all four paws straight up. She looked like a dead bug.

As a puppy, Rosie proudly held the title for "most chew damage done in a single afternoon," having successfully updated our Early American furniture into a more contemporary style. (First she removed all the skirts, then she ate the mattress.) When we got home, our house resembled something on the order of "D'em Old Cotton Fields Back Home."

Rosie is my "sturdy dog". I also call her my "houdini dog" based on the fact she can get the lid off any airtight food bin in record time and proceed with what we call "a doggie overdose" in our house. If left to her own devices, Rosie would cheerfully eat herself to death. Her biggest score to date was a 2 lb. bag of dry cat food and fruit salad for four (bad combo) in one sitting. She could barely breathe, much less walk. Everyone said she’d be so sick. She never even burped. Rosie is my sturdy dog.

One day my friend, Sr. Elizabeth, took Rosie to meet the office staff where she works. Elizabeth proudly announced, "I’d like you all to meet Rosie" and motioned downward to her favorite canine. Everyone looked in horror as Rosie made a grand entrance through the front door dragging butt across the brand new beautiful green carpet.

Sr. Elizabeth, a home health nurse, frequently took Rosie and Sadie with her on rounds to the senior housing units. One day Elizabeth left them in the car by the back door instead, as she’d only be gone a moment. Rosie took up her usual post with both paws on the steering wheel and Sadie in the passenger seat anxiously awaiting her return. Suddenly a few minutes later an elderly lady came running through the lobby yelling, "I saw it…I saw it with my own eyes… a dog driving a car..." Elizabeth thought, "oh no", as she raced to the back door. No car. It had rolled backwards down the driveway and come to rest in a parking lot across the street with Rosie still at the wheel, and Sadie howling away from the passenger side. (Thus her theme song which played on this site until her death: "Baby Won't You Drive My Car", by the Beatles, now replaced with "My Heart Will Go On.")

On Good Friday, 4/2/99 our worlds came crashing down when Rosie was diagnosed with bladder cancer at WSU Vet School in Pullman, WA and given a four month prognosis. The vet called to tell us we could come get her; there was nothing more they could do; that Rosie seemed very depressed and had refused to eat since surgery. Ron and Sr. Elizabeth left that afternoon to go get her. The vet student apologetically carried out a very skinny, pathetic looking Rosie that evening and handed her to Sr. Elizabeth who brought out a handful of popcorn and demonstrated the Power of the Resurrection for her.

We began an experimental chemo protocol once we saw Rosie's strong will to live. She had fantastic results and got a near total remission for another year; truly the best year of her life. Heck, we even threw a big 12th birthday bash.

Rosie is one of the longest term bladder cancer survivors on record. Sadly her spine collapsed last week leaving her in pain with difficulty walking. Rosie left my arms for the Rainbow Bridge on the first day of spring, right after consuming a face full of doggie biscuits for the road. She looked up and gave me one last big slurp before she peacefully slipped away.

That night I asked Sadie to please send me a bloom on her plant (see Sadie's page) to let me know when Rosie found her. Her plant had already bloomed for the year the previous month (Valentine's Day) so imagine our surprise when a big bud appeared three days later, joined soon thereafter by another. It brings me great joy to know Rosie is now reunited forever with her favorite tug partner.

Farewell Rosie, see you at the Bridge some day.

Love Mom, Dad and Aunt Lizzie.

Back to Sadie's Page

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