- K-State home
- College of Veterinary Medicine
- About
- Development & Gifts
- Programs
- Hannah B. Elmore Memorial Site
- Hanna B. Elmore Memorial Site - Page 2
Hannah B. Elmore Memorial Site
For our animal companions memorialized through Pet Tribute
Page 2
Nick
Dedicated to Nick: He gave us strength, he gave us love.
He gave us calmness, like a glove.
He wrapped it around us & held us tight,
to make us see that everything was alright.
He was loyal & faithful, honest & true.
One of the best dogs that we ever knew.
He was quick to learn & easy to train,
he was also a teacher who would pick your brain.
He was more than a champion, more than a friend,
more than a buddy in the end.
He was a part of us, he was our Big Boy,
he was Nicholis Von Caesar, he was such a joy.
Born October 12, 1998 - Died April 05, 2012
We will always love him.
Ron & Brenda Scott
Submitted by Ron & Brenda Scott
Cosmo
Dedicated to Cosmo: Cosmo, my handsome shadow, you will remain forever in my heart. Thank you for being there by my side through the good times and the bad times, unconditionally loving me, and for trusting me for the 14 ½ years we spent together. From the time you were a puppy to the last breath you took while in my arms, you were more than just a dog. You were my best friend who brought so much joy into my life, and each moment will be cherished. I miss your presence, I treasure our memories, I will always love you, and I will never forget you all because you were one in a million to me. I wish for you endless happiness at The Rainbow Bridge, and all of my love until we meet again. I love you, Cosmo Collier!!!
Submitted by
Heather Collier Black
Merriam, Kansas
Submitted by Heather Collier Black
Al-Tom
Dear Al-Tom, so very neat;
Affectionate and very sweet.
Loved to sit on Dear Ma’s lap,
Lie by Pa to take a nap.
Love for him just grew and grew,
You could tell he loved us too.
He was just a precious gem.
We will certainly miss him.
Poem by Kenneth Bogue
Submitted by Kenneth and Alma Bogue
Ulysses, Kansas
Submitted by Kenneth and Alma Bogue
Zeke
He was beautiful to us from the moment we first saw him. Though by Sheltie standards, his overbite caused him to appear to have the nose of a Collie. We loved him dearly, and he felt the same about us. He was Zeke – named by our four-year-old grandson.
My wife saw that he got professional training, and he began to visit nursing homes as a therapy dog, always in the company of the love of his life, Nadine, my wife.
God gave us ten years with him. We are very, very grateful.
Zeke is gone from us now, and we are still missing him terribly. Maybe eventually another dog will come into our life. Meanwhile we mourn, and yes, we cry a little.
We remember the good things; his piece of rubber garden hose that he carried around outside when he wanted us to play tug with him; his toleration of two cats he didn’t really care for, but he protected them anyway; how much he loved riding in the car; how the residents of the nursing home loved him and how he loved them.
So to you, Zeke: You took a little of us with you, but you left a lot of yourself with us. Thanks for the ten years.
Submitted by Don Manley
Topeka, Kansas
Submitted by Don Manley
Bubba
Bubba, just by his height, really intimidated many people. Add to that the big barrel chest and dark-faced brindle color, he would put a scare in you when he's charging towards you full speed. But most people did not know that it was all show, as he was a sweetie pie in personality and loved to give frequent kisses – often unsuspected ones. He would lick you endlessly if you didn't tell him, "Enough."
As a pup, Bub was a handful, never wanting to be alone. On one occasion he demolished an interior hollow-core door to escape his confinement in one bedroom. A few days later, he completely destroyed the couch after escaping from his kennel after being alone for what he felt was too long. And on the off-chance that the meter reader had forgotten to close the back-yard gate, Bub would be the first one to tell you that it was open by running out his doggie door to the front of the house and sitting in front of the floor to ceiling windows waiting to be noticed.
Later in adolescence, he was known to slip items from the waste can out the doggie door and into the yard somewhere. But to take the cake was the time he actually did "take the cake." Yes, it was a whole cake freshly decorated and ready for a client – out the doggie door and devoured. He left no evidence of his crime except for the frosting covering his face when he came back inside. Still, there was no getting mad at Bub, as he would melt you with the soulful expressions in his eyes.
Bubba was the first dog I had ever met that loved fireworks to – not just tolerate them, but wanting to be in on the action. A sparkler would put him into a trance until it finally became extinguished. For the larger fountains and shells, he had to be physically restrained or he would try to get right upon the flash or boom. He had no fear whatsoever of the fireworks.
His last eight months we spent fighting cancer, making sometimes weekly trips to the teaching hospital at the Kansas State University College of Veterinary Medicine for chemotherapy. The first couple of visits he was very nervous, but subsequent visits he actually looked forward to going and seeing everyone once again. During later trips, Bubba would be trying to calm other patients down while we waited to see our new friends, the staff and students at the hospital. We were lucky to have them there to care for us so especially nice.
Bubba – every one's best friend.
Submitted by Becky, Jennifer and Daniel Brennan, Topeka Kansas
Submitted by Becky, Jennifer and Daniel Brennan, Topeka Kansas
Revie and Phoebe
On a very cold day on Feb. 15, 2006, we made a trip from Hutchinson, Kan., to Manhattan, Kan. We arrived at the Manhattan Veterinary Hospital to pick up an adopted greyhound sight unseen. We met Randy Juracek, Sharon Greene, and the most precious brindle girl named Reva, AKA Whisk By. Precious doesn’t even sum up what a sweet lady she is. She was 5 soon to turn 6 on March 27 but we didn’t care. Reva soon was changed to Revie; just fit her better. She is such a shy sweet lady. Then, they brought in the most beautiful black and white TBO’s Pinto that wouldn’t be ready for another year, but we were so smitten that we said, “Oh yes, we want her too.” It seemed like Revie needed a sweater and a toy to make the trip home, so off to the pet shop we went. We bought a beautiful red sweater, an adorable white squeaky lambsy toy, shampoo, conditioner and treats, because there was no limit for our new baby. All the way home we smiled, commented how beautiful, how sweet, and how she is such a precious lady. Not sure what to do in her own home, we put her in bed to sleep with us which only lasted two nights because it was not her idea of fun. Off to the pet store we went again for a bed and more squeaky, furry toys. Revie was really not sure what the bed was, so Jon laid on the bed. She caught on to the bed and caught on to the toys. All over the house she went, throwing them everywhere – even on furniture – just having fun. She owned the yard doing lots of circle races, but no barking. In seven years, Revie has probably only barked eight times and only at cats. She is still a lady, but after so many toys, she started getting bored.
On Jan. 7, 2007, Randy Juracek called telling us Pinto was ready. At least this time we were prepared already, having a pink sweater, collar and lead – everything we needed. We even had a white squeaky lambsy toy. We left home on another cold day, Jan. 8, 2007, to get Pinto. Later we had her name changed to Phoebe because she was just too beautiful to be called Pinto (that is a horse’s name). We got the most smiling, talking, barking character we had ever met. The ride back from Manhattan was interesting to say the least. Poor Phoebe was car sick – very car sick. We stopped at our veterinarian in Hutchinson, ran in, got meds and were off to our home. I told Revie when I left that day that I was bringing her a live toy and lively was what I brought home.
Revie was upset with me for about two months before she decided she really loved her little sister Phoebe. Phoebe came in the house and took over all the toys. She played rough with them, growling at anyone, especially Revie, who tried to take them from her. After all, that was her home and anything she wanted she got. She was Mama’s baby and nobody forgot it. Phoebe counter surfed and wanted whatever we were eating. What manners? She was just so funny! She barked and smiled and talked. The talking really paid off because she got whatever she wanted. Both Revie and Phoebe loved to have their nails trimmed, teeth brushed and even enjoyed their baths. They just loved attention. Of course, even with four dog beds, Phoebe slept in our bed. We had tons of clothes made for them: visors, silk collars and coats for all seasons. They had toys galore. Spoiling them was the best and we couldn’t stop. They deserved it all and more. Phoebe even decided it was fun to hide Mama’s slippers. Who would ever find them?
These two “greyt greys” brought more joy to us than anything money could buy. Unfortunately, Phoebe did take out her share of rabbits. She even caught a squirrel and tried for a skunk. It was just her nature. Of course, Revie was too much of a lady to even attempt such a thing.
Then, on the first of August, Phoebe started having problems getting around. She just didn’t seem quite right. She had a horrible fall on the 15th and hurt her back. We found out she splayed her hips but we prayed for a miracle, one that didn’t come. On Aug. 19, 2013, week took her to Doc Smith at Apple Lane. She couldn’t walk and we had been carrying her. Nothing could save her and she was so scared. Doc Smith gave her a sedative and came back 20 minutes later with that ugly greenish needle. It was saddest day of our life with our Spotty. We enjoyed, laughed, cried and had the time of our lives with her for six years, seven months, and 11 days. I don’t know if the pain will ever go away. She kissed us every morning, all day and every night. She was the best ever.
In June of 2012, we found out our beautiful precious brindle, Revie, had chronic renal failure. It’s now Sept. 12, 2013, there are only 36 days of Rubenal and we have no idea how many days of Precious left. Our hearts are broken. We can’t even seem to function, but we spend as much time with her giving her all our love. Thank you Kansas State for letting us have two of the “greytest greys” that ever lived. You have no idea how they changed our lives and us.
October 2013 – Revie started getting so lonely and not interested in food or much else. We all missed our little Phoebe. After turning down three greyhounds, we decided- maybe- we should get Revie another live greyhound for a companion. Thanks to Sharon Greene at K-State and her friend who owns a wonderful greyhound farm in Abilene, Kansas. We made a trip to Abilene on November 6, 2013 to get one of his favorites who had just been pulled from the back. We played with the baby puppies and then not the most handsome big white male with spotted ears, lots of licking and God’s thumbprint on his forehead. Big- healthy-happy and just so full of life, a real heart stealer.
All the way from the farm thru downtown Abilene, Landon sat with his back to us looking out the rear windows. We turned on I-70 to come home- Landon turned around and thought he should drive. He made Phoebe look like a cakewalk he was indeed a lively boy- laugh we did.
Once home we let Landon in the backyard and brought Revie out for a meet and greet. She perked up- seemed to smile while she did her slow trot in the yard. Best decision we made for our precious Revie. Revie started eating again and enjoying life and her new buddy. Landon gave Revie respect, kindness and so much love. Revie housebroke Landon and loved him so much.
January through March 2014 was not kind to Revie. She was so sick- that chronic renal failure was really hard on her. On March 21, 2014 – six days before Revie would be 13 years old- we gave her the last gift- not what we wanted- but no choice- euthanasia. She weighed 42 pounds and was so sick. When it was over my precious Revie had a fear on her sweet face. I cried all the way home, feeling like such a failure. Dr. Schroeder made it so nice for Revie- she sedated her, talked to her all the while and never left the room. Revie gave us all her love for seven years, one month, and six days. She was just the most beautiful precious gray lady grey and we are so blessed to have shared her time. Thank you for two gray greys- they will be in our hearts forever.
Thank you Sharon for helping us have our now best buddy, Landon. He keeps us laughing and there is never a boring minute- indeed lively. Landon makes the above easier- he is a true blessing.
- Submitted by Sue Kiser and Jon Colglazier
Submitted by Sue Kiser and Jon Colglazier
Stanford
Thank you for being my son. You were the Best little boy in all the land. You rescued me. We rescued each other. We were together in our journey in life. You loved me totally and unconditionally. You know I loved you more than anyone. I felt True Joy, Love, Happiness, and Peace when we were enjoying life together. God gave me the Best gift ever when he gave me you. He gave me the Honor of being your mom. Thank You for letting me be your mom. Having you to Kiss, Hug, and Love was the best thing in my world. You made me smile just thinking of you, just watching you, just by being cute; Being You. Everyone who knew you, Loved You. You were Beautiful in every way. You are irreplaceable. You are missed. You will always be a Huge part of me. You are a Great Loss to this worldly earth, but a Great Gain to Heaven above. As I told you every day, Even if we have to be apart, always know that we will be together again.
I Love You Stanford Simon.
Submitted by Darla Karlin, Shawnee, Kansas
Submitted by Darla Karlin
G.W.
G.W.: You were our first little boy. You were the love of our life. You were our life. The center of it. You taught us how to love totally and unconditionally. You taught us how to step out of the box, and love. We have missed you, and will always miss you. You were the little pioneer to our learning about caregiving and love. Because of you, we loved another little boy, who we otherwise might not have; who became the next love of our life, and a Huge Blessing. Thank You for all of that. You were a gift from God. The day we lost you, Heaven got a Beautiful little boy. It was an Honor and Privilege to take care of you, love you, and be loved by you.
We Will Love You Forever G.W.
Submitted by Paul and Darla Karlin, Hays, Kansas
Submitted by Paul and Darla Karlin
Max and Sammy Lee
Sammy Lee's clock: As a puppy, Sammy Lee had the “Zorro” mask features on his sweet face and he was a determined fellow. He was a bossy fellow and always ready to please and learn tricks. He loved performing. He grew up in Missouri and became super dog and a caregiver that performed at the KU Medical Center in Kansas City. He did tricks for the terminally ill patients at KUMC and in the ICU. He had his own badge.
His owner, the late Peggy underwent two liver transplants at KUMC and when she passed away, Sammy was a lost little dog. He refused to eat and he was depressed.
He sought refuge by the grandfather clock down the hall. The ticking of the clock was soothing to him.
At the same time, in Manhattan, Kan., Max the long-haired Dachshund lost his owner to ALS. Max was trained for the wheelchair and a close companion to my late husband. He never left his side.
Max adopted Sammy, along with the grandfather clock and both dogs formed a very close bond. What a buddy system they had. They did everything together and looked out for each other. It was a match made in heaven. Max taught Sammy to eat and he shared his bed with Sammy.
Everything seemed to be as it should be and life went on. Sammy turned 10 years old and then he passed away on Sept. 10, 2013.
We were heartbroken and so sad to see Max looking for his buddy. Max became depressed, and we were worried sick about him.
Then one day I saw something unusual by the grandfather clock and I was amazed. Max had taken Sammy's toys and placed them in the same spot where Sammy used to be. Just one more time Sammy; show me your muscle.
Submitted by Yolande Adair and Larry Pyle, Manhattan, Kan.
Submitted by Yolande Adair and Larry Pyle
Cashee and Schatzee
Cashee was our 'Big Girl' who had been with us for a little over 20 years. She had been through so much, but we weathered the storms. First she was diabetic, blind, deaf, and succumbed to cancer.
Schatzee showed up on our doorstep one day. We immediately fell for him. He was our 'Big Boy' (all 7 pounds of him) and 'Handsome'. He was with us for 15½ years. He, too, had some uphill battles. He ended up being partially blind, deaf, and arthritic. He said, in the end, you guys have done so much for me, I'm tired and went off. He loved being in the sun.
We miss you both so much and life will never be the same without you two. You will forever be in our hearts and missed. Now you're both together in "Kitty Heaven."
Submitted by Alby and Mai, Los Angeles
Submitted by Alby and Mai
Mr. Flash Matthew Houdini
Adopted & unconditionally loved on 06.29.09
Gained his angel wings on 12.19.15
We were fortunate to adopt Mr. Flash from an animal rescue group in Dallas, Texas, called EARS (Education & Animal Rescue Society). The rescue group pulled him from a shelter the day before he was to be euthanized. There was a note on his cage that said he was a "runner." From the moment we brought Mr. Flash into our home as a potential foster dog — to see if our other beagle would approve — we knew he was a keeper. He lovingly ran into our big, fenced in back yard and immediately our black and white beagle, Kenna, ran up to him — all the other potential fosters she ran and hid from.
Mr. Flash was always the "star of the show" — he was everyone's friend, didn't know a stranger, loved to snuggle, and considered himself a 30lb lap dog. He had a sparkle in his eyes, loved to go on walks, had an uncontrollable desire to eat and eat anything he could get his chops on! One of his favorite things to do was to go on rides — oh how he loved to sick his head out the window and sniff. When in the vehicle if the window wasn't down you could hear his paw scraping at the window as to hurry up and let the air in! You could see his jowls flapping in the wind, his big beagle ears being whipped around, and most importantly his nose was turned on to everything possible — sniffing until he wore himself out! Just hearing the word "ride" would send him into a frenzy of running through the house, barking, and his tail wagging crazily.
Mr. Flash, prior to live with us, had a tough life. He came from a rough neighborhood and was malnourished. Resilient. He was oh-so resilient and to meet him you would have never suspected he was an abandoned dog. We know that the 6 years he was our fur-child were the best years of his life -- but ironically, he gave us more then we could ever have given him. We were unsure of his age, but his love and zest for life made up everything. Mr. Flash was the type of loyal, loving beagle, who kept things interesting — whether it was digging his way out from under the fence, chasing squirrels and breaking his paw in the process, he could tip over a trash can as soon as you turned your back, or the need to get under every blanket possible in the bed in order to be a vital part of the family — loud snoring included! Mr. Flash was as loyal as they come. You could see his soul in his big, brown eyes. He was oh so loved and loved us back.
Mr. Flash was also a fighter. He fought his entire life — he fought to the very end of his life too. Mr. Flash become very sick at the end of September 2015. We knew that something wasn't quite right. Mr. Flash underwent the gamut of tests and procedures at the KSU Vet School. He fought through the darkest of days -- when he spent 5 days in ICU — he fought through being weak -- he fought through his medications what were taking a toll on his body. He fought long enough to see the birth of our son. We know he was looking out for our son and wanted to make sure he was ok. The day our son was born — about a month after being in ICU — he ran and wagged his tail — something he hadn't done since before he became so sick. It was his way of showing us how hard he fought and how happy he was to see a new family member. Those are the moments we cherish. Those are the moments we hold onto in our hearts and memories. Those are now the moments we look back to and validate just how hard Mr. Flash fought through his sickness towards the end of his life. Mr. Flash is the epitome of what we as human strive to be — loyal and dedicated to family.
Mr. Flash fought so hard in the last month he was with us. We could see his body getting tired. The toll of his hard fought battles in life, his diagnosed auto-immune disease and the harsh medications that went along with it, started to make his body increasingly tired. Mr. Flash never once showed us he was hurting — never once did we see or hear him wince in pain. We though, however, could see him starting to struggle. He was struggling with the daily activities that made him who he was. As a family, it broke our hearts to see it. We knew that it would be selfish to continue to let him live his life in a way that wasn't reflective of the Mr. Flash we know and love so dearly. We made the heart-wrenching decision to help he gain his angel wings. Our last night together we were all able to sleep in the same room, he was able to go on a walk, and take a ride -- smelling the fresh air.
During those final moments that Mr. Flash breathed his breath of life — we were able to be there with him -- we were able to hug, kiss, caress his fur, and pray that he gains his freedom — that he's able to run free and rest in the sun. He was calm and peaceful — as if to let us know — everything is going to be OK. He rested peacefully and heaven gained another loyal and loveable dog. We know that it wasn't a good-bye, but an until-we-see-you-again moment.
It is true that dogs teach us about love and life. Mr. Flash did that for us and so much more. While our hearts ache that he is no longer with us — his spirit, memory, and zest for life will always be in our hearts and memories. We find peace and a sense of calmness knowing that the sunshine that is cast down upon us is a message from Mr. Flash letting us know that he's always with us and looking over us.
We love and miss you sweet fur-boy. We know you are free! Keep wagging your tail, chasing squirrels, and know that we miss and love you and think about you every single day.
Until we see you again sweet Mr. Flash!
With all the love in the world,
Dad, Mom, Kipton, & Kenna Jo
Submitted by Misti
Bailey
Bailey, our beautiful girl, you came into our lives December 2008 weighing only 2.6 lbs. Even though you were so little yet so mighty, we had no idea how much you were going to change our lives when you joined our family. And today, nine years later, we still look for you in the house thinking you're right there next to us, eager to give us kisses, and scratching our lower leg(s) for attention. Since you were our very first girl, you opened our hearts as they had never been opened before. And because of you, mommy and daddy are forever changed for the better. And when you left, you took a piece of us with you. Although our hearts hurt badly and we miss you terribly, we are so thankful for the wonderful and memorable years we shared with you. We love you, Bailey B.
Submitted by Darryl & Heather Black
Merriam, KS
Submitted by Darryl & Heather Black
Frida
Frida came from a shelter, having been found on the streets without a chip or a collar. I had reluctantly visited the shelter in June 2009, only two weeks after saying goodbye to my 16-year-old cocker spaniel. Although she wouldn’t yet respond to that name, Frida (named after the artist) was being kept in a pen with other dogs much larger that dominated their small space. But when I entered the room, this petite, brown-eyed blonde made her way to the front of the pen, placed her front paws on the ledge, and our eyes locked. In that instant, Frida--who had been lost--found me.
She was greeted at home by Oscar, also a Chihuahua mix but smaller in stature. Ever easy-going, 2-year-old Oscar quickly adapted to his new housemate as Frida established ground rules, that she was to be in charge. Frida was fearless when it came to other canines. Once in the lobby of a vet clinic, she had to be reined in when she attempted to take on a Great Dane that was standing obediently next to its owner. Off-lease, however, she was totally at ease with other dogs.
Frida had a nose and an appetite for Kleenex, a fetish if you will. Any time one would be mistakenly tossed into a wastebasket, the next morning the wastebasket would be tipped over and shredded tissue was everywhere. Sometimes, she didn’t wait for the cover of darkness; if I heard the familiar sound of a wastebasket being tipped, I knew where to go. Shamelessly, she would saunter away.
Over the years, my other pet names for Frida were Baby Girl, Princess, Baby Cakes, “Freedee” and a favorite, Cupcake, for the white swirl that crowned her forehead (like Hostess cupcakes I remembered as a kid).
Frida stoically endured significant health issues in her 12 short years. The first major diagnosis was a herniated disc, later came painful, slow-to-heal torn ACLs, and finally Cushing’s Disease. Throughout all this, she remained a gentle, affectionate companion, who was never aggressive and never once growled or snapped at a human.
We took walks daily, and every day was a new adventure for her to explore new sights and smells. Frida was my buddy, my companion, my confidante. Many times, when we would stop to rest at a park bench, I would pour my soul out to her.
Even though Frida was put to rest in June 2020, now six months since, my heart aches for her as much as ever. Her gaze into my eyes, her cuddle next to me in the recliner, stretching out by my legs in bed at night. Frida is gone, and a piece of me is gone, too.
I put away Frida’s favorite toys, the rope chew, the heart-shaped, “Princess” pillow, her Christmas wiener-dog plush; they were hers, never to be shared with another.
Frida loved to dig in the backyard and had an appetite for small rocks. Several days after her passing, as I walked to the mailbox, I spotted a small heart-shaped pebble on the sidewalk. I treasure it as a parting gift to me.
I miss our talks, I miss our walks, I miss my Baby Girl. There will never be another Frida.
Verne Ediger
Las Cruces, New Mexico
Submitted by Verne Ediger
Cooper
A friend at work found our dog, Cooper on the internet. He had been running up and down an area on I-70 for two weeks. After he was captured, and the rescue group found no one claimed him they put him up for adoption and we adopted him. The vet said he was around a year old. He was already house trained; crate trained and didn’t bark. A perfect dog! He was so sweet always and everyone loved him.
When we first got Cooper, he was scared to be in a car. We took him on small rides like the post office, drive through pharmacy and bank. He learned to like being in the car.
One of our favorite memories is when we had a fence put up in the backyard. It was soon after we got him and he started running so fast around the yard, by the fence, like he couldn’t stop because he was so happy. After that day he would run around his own backyard, and he was so happy. He was with us for sixteen years and they were years we cherish with all our hearts, and we will never forget. We loved him so much.
Cooper’s Mom and Dad
Submitted by Bob and Susan Catron
Howard
My Mother had passed away, leaving my wheel chair bound Dad living with me. I also recently had to put down one of my four dogs and wasn’t really planning on another pet anytime soon. A good friend of mine ran into a women at the pet store buying supplies. She runs a small rescue
and had just picked up an 8 year old Pekingese from the shelter and needed a foster. I agreed to take him until a forever home was found. The first night, my Dad was trying to pet him but could not reach him. Since the dog was so short and his wheel chair was so high, I put the dog on his
lap and went down the hall for a few minutes. When I came back, I found them both sound asleep together. I knew at that moment, he was already in his forever home.
I was not crazy about the name the rescue had given him. So since I didn’t know who he had been before, I named him after two of the older men I cared for at the Long Term Care Facilit y where I worked. There was Howard 1, Howard 2 and he became Howard 3. They had hats with their
designation and Howard 3 had a sweater. For the next four years he visited weekly to the residents and spread love. In a gentle way he touched many people, that no one else could.
I retired in 2020 after 40 years at Motion Picture Television Fund in Woodland Hills, but continued on a volunteer basis. After a short break due to Covid, Howard was allowed to return. We would go almost every week for a few days. He visited in a stroller, so he was at the right height for wheel chairs resident to be able to pet him. But, he usually ended up on a lap or a bed. There were residents who knew his name, but never remembered mine. Howard 3 had a bad stroke in in early January 2023, and I had to let him go. As I held him, I whispered thanks to him, for all the love and joy he brought to so many over the six years.
I was blessed to have him in my family and the MPTF family.
With love,
Lizz Samuel
Submitted by Lizz Samuel