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.
Maizey came to me in a driving sleet storm on the evening of November 19, 2019, surrendered to B.O.N.E.S. by her loving dad, Skip, after the death of his wife, longtime B.O.N.E.S. volunteer Dawn Wood.
Skip and Dawn had adopted Maizey four years earlier, after Maizey had been rescued by an ACO. She was thought to have been a hunter or perhaps the "breeder" female for a hunting pack, and she'd quickly become the beloved "Princess" of the pack in Dawn and Skip's home. Sadly, Skip's work schedule didn't allow him to give Maizey and her pack-mates Spenser and Boomer the time and attention they needed and deserved after Dawn's death, but he made sure that all three dogs would have loving forever homes as Dawn had wished.
Maizey had liver and kidney issues when she came to me, but she responded well to medications, and she quickly settled in with her new pack-mates Donnie and Sophie. Donnie's size and energy rivaled Boomer's, and Sophie welcomed a new companion to share the den sofa and household routines.
Maizey loved the securely fenced yard at her new home, delighting in exploring every corner several times each day, poking her nose through the "puppy pickets" on the aluminum fence watching wild turkeys and woodchucks next door, and harassing a particular squirrel who, in turn, taunted all three dogs by parading back and forth along the top of an adjacent neighbors' wooden fence.
Firmly wedded to her routines, Maizey let it be known that breakfast should be served by 5 AM; midmorning outdoor time and a dental chew stick should be offered by 10:00; more outdoor time with a wonderful mid-day dog walker and a stuffed frozen Kong were "due" by 12:30; and oddly, she demanded a mid-afternoon playtime in the yard every day at precisely ten minutes before 3:00, and a pre-dinner trip to the yard at 4:20. She quickly converted Donnie and Sophie to her preferred schedule. Especially in the afternoon, her chosen times were unvaryingly, literally, exact. And at the signal "let's get ready," she'd jockey for position at the kitchen door, eager to be the first down the steps to the brick patio.
When she first arrived, she was said not to have any "signal" that she needed to head outdoors, but that changed within days. Even when she didn't "need" to go out, she delighted in making a game of going to the door and signaling her wishes with one high-pitched little "yip." Once out, she'd signal "game" rather than "need," turning around and sitting contentedly on the small porch until she decided the game was over, and then, with another "yip," asking to come back inside. Given the chance, she'd repeat the game over and over, often enticing Donnie to join her until some secret communication between them ended the game with the two dogs returning indoors and sitting side by side near where they knew the jar of Charlee Bear treats was kept on the kitchen counter.
At bedtime, she and Donnie and Sophie monopolized the antique "three-quarter" bed while they licked dabs of peanut butter from their "good-night bones" and accepted hugs and cuddles. Maizey's favorites were gentle chin scratches, and she would lift her chin and arch her head back to ask for more and more.
Through all the months of COVID lockdowns, Maizey, Donnie, and Sophie were happy companions, and Maizey and Donnie clearly missed Sophie when Sophie died in the summer of 2022.
At the end of her second year here, Maizey was diagnosed with untreatable liver cancer. The veterinary practice which cares for many B.O.N.E.S. dogs suggested that further monitoring would avail nothing. But Maizey wasn't ready to give up, and for twelve more months, she continued on her merry way. Wanting continuity of care for Maizey and, when needed, the comfort of home visits, I moved her care to my longtime house-call veterinarian. During the last weeks of Sophie's life in mid-2022, the vet also took time on visits to get to know Maizey, playing gently with her, and promising to help ease Maizey's way when, inevitably, her time came.
And so exactly three years after she joined me, and after an especially happy November weekend playing with Donnie in piles of windblown leaves, Maizey showed clearly that her time had come. Her mealtime dances around her dish stopped, her meals and her favorite snacks and her good-night bone went untouched, and it was clear that her cancer had suddenly and rapidly progressed.
And so, true to her promise and to my wish for Maizey, my house-call vet gently eased her way in front of the fire place whose warmth Maizey loved, as Donnie nuzzled her one last time and as Maizey received her favorite chin scratches and heard again how much she was loved.
Rest well, sweet Maizey, and know how much you've been loved by many. And know what a privilege it was to be your "successor" mom and for Sophie and Donnie to welcome you to their pack in 2019.
Ibby Nathans
