It was love at first sight; we came to see about a puppy and fell fast for five year old Whisper who wouldn't leave our laps.  It was her huge smile, her soft as eiderdown fur and her unrelenting pursuit of a pat that made us fall so hard.  Whisper was divine to stroke and brush, hold and snuggle.  She hated to be dirty, avoiding puddles and trouble.  She climbed into the bath once with a pleading look and of course we gave in. She loved a bath and adored a blow dry, purring like a kitten and entreating us with her paws to turn the dryer back on.  Whisper didn't walk, she pranced, never deigning to sniff at anything, eyes focused for a glimpse of a rabbit or squirrel to chase but never catch.  She rarely left our side, though she did escape from the back yard when she felt it was time for "Mr. Roast Beef" to quit drinking beer with the neighbours; she herded him home.  
 
Whisper, who had three litters and who lately loved best of all to snooze under her umbrella tree in the yard, had some serious adventures with us, flying in our little plane to remote places in pursuit of vistas and views, wildlife and fish.  We had to watch because if "The Blond" climbed into the plane, a boat or even a canoe, Whisper was never far behind.  She herded wild big horn sheep on the Banff parkway once as if she had been doing so all her life.  She proudly pulled the neighbour kids in a sleigh on the rare days of Victoria snow.  The best day of her life, we are guessing, was at Sydney Island where hundred's of feral deer let her give chase.  She arfed with unabashed glee that day and in her sleep many nights thereafter.
 
Whisper showed us that we could take care of someone other than ourselves; she taught us to be a family.  She knew before we did that we were expecting a baby and she sat, patiently with a paw on "The Blond" through every bout of morning sickness. She guarded our baby like she was her own puppy; the little old ladies in Oak Bay never had a chance to squeeze our baby's sweet cheeks when our Whisper was near.
 
And now our Whisper is not near.  We look for her everywhere.  The nights and mornings are especially hard, as she would send us to dreamland and wake us from it by leaping into bed with us for a pat and promptly hog all the covers and start snoring.  What we would give for her to hog all the covers and snore now.
 
Every day with Whisper was a gift.  Madeline and Geoff gave us 1095 gifts in allowing us to adopt Whisper when her breeding days were done.  We long for a hundred times that number, but all the beautiful memories of our Whisper-Whisp will have to hold us until she comes for us when its our time to go.  We are trying hard not to be broken hearted, but it is hopeless. Rest well dearest doggie, and may heaven be full of deer to chase and loving arms to pat you until we can come to pat you.
 
Bill ("Mr. Roast Beef"), Britta ("The Blond") and Beatrice ("The Baby")