This section is devoted to our beloved dogs who are waiting at the Rainbow Bridge. If you would like to include a tribute to your B.O.N.E.S. beagle(s) that crossed to Rainbow Bridge, please send your story and/or photo(s) to tributes@bonesbeagles.org.
Read all of the tributes by paging through them below or click on a name to go to a specific article.
Henry was my best friend, my soul mate, the person who taught me to persevere, never give up, and just enjoy life (especially that chicken which is just in reach!).
I adopted him in 2006, in New Hampshire, when he was about 11 months old. His name was Mickey back then. Shortly after his adoption, after he got used to playing in the parks in Jamaica Plain, Boston, we moved to Europe — to Amsterdam. Henry learned how to ride in a bike basket and eat at cafes and walk along the canals.
Then we moved to the countryside in France, in Bretagne, where he would run in cornfields, along the beaches in Bretagne and Normandy, waiting for someone to give him a piece of saucisson and fromage — that was then he learned French!
We moved to Italy a few years later in a village perched on the top of a small mountain. We would hike up in the mornings past the churches to the top to see the valley below. In the evenings, we would eat in the Piazza and the waiters would give him all the leftover lamb, saying "Enrico, agnello?"
We lived in Copenhagen in the dead of winter and used to walk along the canals and by the Queen's palace while he searched for pieces of food in the snowbank. We lived in Paris where he would sit at cafes and walk along the Seine and shop in the stores in Place Voges and the Marais. We lived in London where he rode double-decker buses to work with me and in the evening we would walk home and he would find all the chicken bones in Shoreditch. We even spent one Christmas in Spain hiking up to a castle where there wasn't a soul in sight.
We lived a free-spirited, loving, and bohemian life — the best 15 years of my life, wandering and exploring Europe together.
Henry would run in cornfields in Bretagne and always come back. He sat on a hilltop and roamed Piazzas in Cortona and ran along the shore on the French and Danish beaches.
He passed to a new realm on July 3, 2020, snoring his way back to these cornfields in Bregagne, those lamb chops in Italy, and those chicken bones in London.
For everyone who knew him and got to let him take THEM on walks, he is loved and missed.
Jennifer Hicks
