| Location | Hull |
| Age | 13 years |
| Date of Birth | 01/01/1994 |
| Date of Death | 16/03/2007 |
| Visitors | 467 since 31/10/2008 |
| Creator |
Freddie was so good. He was the gentlest dog in the universe. He loved his walks and going for a ride in his motor car.
Freddie xxx
When the Time Comes
John Quealy
Lord, when the time comes please help me be strong
My furry friend is sick; something's terribly wrong
The vet checked him over; there's nothing he can do
I'm afraid soon I'll be sending him; home to You
Please take him back home; on the wings of a dove
Into Your loving arms; up in heaven above
Take him to a meadow; where he can play and run free
Under bright sunlight; among the green grass and trees
He's been a part of my life now; for so many years
I'll miss him so much; my eyes are filling with tears
Please give me the courage; to tell him good-bye
As I know He'll watch over me; through his loving eyes
I'll never forget him; I'll see him one day
Tell him we'll meet at the Bridge; then we'll go play
I'll cherish the memories; of the time we both had
they'll put a smile on my face; then I won't feel as bad
f it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this -- the last battle -- can't be won.
You will be sad I understand,
But don't let grief then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.
We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where to my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don't grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing to do;
We've been so close -- we two -- these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
--
Old Dogs Do Not Die
We have a secret you and I,
That no one else shall know,
For who but I can see you lie,
Each night, in fireglow?
And who but I can reach my hand
Before I go to bed,
And feel the living warmth of you
And touch your silken head?
And only I walk woodland paths,
And see, ahead of me,
Your small form racing with the wind,
So young again, and free!
And only I can see you swim
In every brook I pass.
And, when I call, no one but I
Can see the bending grass.
. . . Author Unknown
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