Her bark

"The Boo"

Abbey

She is an AKC registered Pembroke Welsh Corgi with the full formal name of Wynfal's Furness Abbey. She is named after a beautiful old English Abbey built out of red sandstone. The Wynfal Kennel is in Conifer, Colorado. She can sit, come, stay, rollover, down, take, do your business, get Mr. Pig, and go to Marilyn.

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And now to all the good dogs-- the special ones you loved best, those of ours we still miss -- good-bye, until, on some brighter day, in some fairer place, they run out again to greet us. -- George Papshvily

Where To Bury A Dog by Ben Hur Lampman There are various places within which a dog may be buried. We are thinking now of a setter, whose coat was flame in the sunshine, and who, so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This setter is buried beneath a cherry tree, under four feet of garden loam, and at its proper season the cherry strews petals on the green lawn of his grave. Beneath a cherry tree, or an apple, or any flowering shrub of the garden, is an excellent place to bury a good dog. Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy summer, or gnawed at a flavorous bone, or lifted head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death. Yet it is a small matter, and it touches sentiment more than anything else. For if the dog be well remembered, if sometimes he leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, questing, asking, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where that dog sleeps at long and at last. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees are roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pasture land, where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained, and nothing lost - if memory lives. But there is one best place to bury a dog. One place that is best of all. If you bury him in this spot, the secret of which you must already have, he will come to you when you call -- come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they should not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he is yours and he belongs there. People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper pitched too fine for mere audition, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them then, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing. The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.

If God had reached down and molded the perfect dog from the clay of the Earth, it would have been Abbey. There never was a dog more loved, or more deserving of love. Our hearts are broken and she will be remembered forever. [rainbow bridge and poetry links]

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