Storybook Maltese
We lost our beloved Hawkeye on October 5, 2022 due to kidney failure. We had him for nearly 13 years. He was the most loyal, loving, sweet companion anyone could ask for. We had no idea when we got him that a little 5 pound dog could have such a big heart!
We got Hawkeye when he was 8 months old. He had been returned to the breeder when his previous owner was transferred and unable to take him with him. We immediately fell in love with his sweet little face. He was originally named Happy but we changed his name to Hawkeye.
It soon became apparent that Hawkeye had been left alone for long periods of time as he had severe separation anxiety and would get physically sick if we were out of sight for even 5 minutes. Over many months of building trust with him, being patient, gently socializing him, and working with our vet he was able to go a few hours without being sick if needed while we went out for errands, etc. Because we are retired, Hawkeye never needed to be alone for long. And even though he was much better about separation anxiety he would always come looking for us if we left the room. He’d peek his head around the door to see where we were and then go back to where he had been before. He just needed to check on us.
Because of his loving personality Hawkeye became trained as a therapy dog. He passed all tests with flying colors. Hawkeye and I spent hours at a nursing home. Everyone who ever met Hawkeye loved him. We couldn’t go 10 feet down a hallway without either a staff member or a resident wanting to see Hawkeye. He was just a love magnet. After a few years I could tell his therapy work was beginning to wear on him so we retired from therapy work.
By then we had small grandchildren who adored Hawkeye. The kids were taught from the earliest moments that Hawkeye was fragile and they needed to be very gentle with him. Hawkeye loved the kids and always went to them. For example, when the babies were newborn and visiting us we had the bassinet in the living room close to an ottoman. I turned around one day to find that Hawkeye had jumped onto the ottoman, then into the bassinet and was laying down at the end “keeping watch” over the baby. He did this many times….always on his own. We have many pictures of Hawkeye with the grandkids as they grew over the years. They loved him and he loved them. Hawkeye continued to bless everyone around him with his love and companionship until the very end.
I like to think that we gave Hawkeye his best life. But in all honesty he gave us sooooo much more. He was our constant companion and gave us and everyone he knew his total unconditional love. We will always be grateful for the lessons he taught us about love, total trust, and patience. We think of him daily. He brought us endless joy. Hawkeye left an indelible imprint on us and he will forever be in our hearts and souls. It was such a privilege to have him as part of our lives for as long as we did.
Until we meet again at the Rainbow Bridge sweet Hawkeye. We will always love you!
The Rainbow Bridge
There is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth.
It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors.
Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge there is a land of meadows, hills and valleys with lush green grass.
When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is always food and water and warm spring weather. All the animals who have been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are
made whole and strong again,
just as we remember them in our dreams of
days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind. They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. Her bright eyes are intent; her eager body begins to quiver. Suddenly she begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, her legs carrying her faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated.
This memorial page has been a long time coming… lovingly dedicated to the many cherished pets we’ve lost—faithful companions who touched our lives in ways words can’t fully express. The grief that follows the loss of a beloved dog or pet is deeply personal. For many, saying goodbye to a pet can be even harder than grieving a human loved one. One reason is the absence of a strong support system for pet loss… and another is the unique, unconditional love our animals give—asking so little, yet giving us everything.
They leave paw prints on our hearts… and the bond we share with them is unmatched.
You may wonder, “Should I get another pet?”
There is no one-size-fits-all answer. Some people find comfort in adopting a new puppy or rescue dog soon after their loss—others may need more time to grieve before they’re emotionally ready. Grief after losing a pet has no timeline. Some may never feel ready for another, while others can’t imagine life without a furry companion. Whether your heart is ready to love again tomorrow or years from now… please know you are not replacing your lost pet. You are simply opening your heart to a new chapter.
And if you feel called to love again, please don’t carry guilt. The pets we’ve lost loved us so selflessly… and I truly believe they would want us to feel joy again. No new pet can ever replace the one you’ve lost—but they can follow in those beloved paw-steps and bring new light into your life.
This page is a tribute to those precious souls who’ve crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and to the healing journey of those of us left behind. If you’d like to honor your pet’s memory—whether through a story, a photo, or even a picture of the new love that helped you heal—please feel free to share. You can email your tribute to barbshew@yahoo.com and I’ll lovingly add your memorial to this page.
All stories are welcome. All love is remembered.
In memory of Hawkeye, these two bundles of joy now carry on the love
Every breeder has a beginning... and ours began in heartbreak.
As far back as I can remember, I’ve had little dogs. Each one felt like family. Every time I lost one, it hit me deeply. But I had always dreamed of one particular kind of dog—ever since meeting my first Maltese at 10 years old, I knew that was the breed for me.
Years later, with our youngest daughter leaving home and four children grown, I was struck by a severe case of empty nest syndrome. I finally decided the time was right to get the Maltese puppy I had always wanted.
It took some convincing to get my husband on board. But once he agreed, I began the search. I wrote heartfelt letters—pages long—explaining the loving home I could provide. I sent them to every show breeder I could find. Not one answered.
Eventually, I found a breeder about two hours away. She wasn’t a show breeder, but she had a little girl available. We brought her home. My husband—Mr. “I don’t want a yappy little dog”—promptly stole her. She became his girl. Her name was Pink, and she was five months old when we got her.
We soon decided to get another. I had heard that girl dogs often bond more with men and boys more with women, so this time we brought home a little boy—Blue—to match Pink.
Of course, Steve stole him too.
My mother had long wanted a Maltese puppy, but couldn’t afford one. So we had a plan: we’d breed Pink and Blue just once. We hoped for two puppies—one for her and one for us. Then we’d have them spayed and neutered.
But life had other plans.
Pink delivered a single puppy by C-section. Just one little girl.
We were instantly in love. My poor mom never had a chance.
We named her Liberty.
I adored her. I had a sweet nursery set up in our laundry room just for Pink and Liberty. When Liberty was around four weeks old, my youngest daughter asked if she and her husband could stay for a few days while they waited to move into their new home. Of course I said yes.
She also asked if she could do a load or two of laundry. That “load or two” completely covered the floor of the laundry room.
I didn’t know then what I know now. I made so many mistakes.
Pink had to climb over that laundry every time she went to her puppy. What I didn’t know was that my daughter had been staying with a friend whose little brother had just been hospitalized with the H1N1 virus. Her laundry carried it into my house… and Pink, in trying to nurse Liberty, unknowingly transferred that virus.
Two days later, my daughter moved out. The next morning, I woke to a very sick puppy.
I could hardly drive the two miles to our vet—I was already sobbing. When we arrived, Liberty was pronounced dead.
I collapsed. I don’t know how I drove home. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. All I could do was cry and cry and cry. And poor Pink searched everywhere for her baby. It was the most painful time of my life—and I’ve lived through some hard things.
The vet later called my husband. He asked for permission to perform a necropsy at no charge—he had a hunch. Steve agreed. His suspicion was confirmed: Liberty died from human H1N1 virus. They had begun seeing dog deaths linked to the outbreak.
I was crushed. It was my fault. My ignorance had cost us everything. I told Steve I would never go through this again. We were having Pink and Blue spayed and neutered immediately.
At the same time, a new online friend—who bred Maltese—had followed Liberty’s little journey online and grieved with me. I asked if she had any little girls around the same age. I needed to fill the hole in my heart.
She didn’t have any girls… but she had a tiny boy.
We bought him. He was so small we named him Storybook’s Little Heart Throb, called him ‘Little’. He became our very first show dog.
And Little did what I never expected—he beat the #1 Maltese in the country. Twice.
From there, I was hooked.
I searched for the perfect female to pair with him. I studied pedigrees until my eyes blurred. I invested everything. And over time, we built a program based on love, loss, and hard-earned experience.
Now, even my husband—who once said he didn’t want a little dog—walks proudly beside me in the show ring. And it all started with Liberty.
We would never be who we are today if not for that precious puppy.
What Liberty Taught Me
I’ve loved and lost many animals. But none quite like Liberty. Losing her—because of something I didn’t know—made it so much worse.
Since then, I’ve changed everything. I’m hyper-vigilant. I have cameras everywhere. I ask too many questions. I don’t let people visit unless I’m confident it’s safe. I warn new owners like a nervous mama: “Hold tight—she might jump!”
Some find it annoying. But I’ve lived what can happen. And I won’t forget.
I cry for every puppy who leaves my arms. Sometimes I wonder why I keep doing this at all…
Then I get a letter. A thank-you. A story about how one of my puppies changed someone’s life. Or one of my dogs wins big in the ring again.
And I remember: this is who we are.
We are breeders of purpose, passion, and deep respect for the lives we bring into this world. These puppies didn’t ask to be born. They deserve everything.
I strive to be the kind of breeder I wish I had found when I was searching all those years ago. And I smile when I beat those very breeders in the ring.
Thank you, Liberty, for your sacrifice.
We will never forget you.
Liberty: The Puppy Who Started It All
Who was Charlie? It was love at first sight for the little dog named Prince Charles. We called him Charlie. When Charlie entered our world for the first time in December, 2008, there was no hesitancy or fear on this little Maltese puppy's part, only curiosity of the people who would become his family, and the place that would be his home. He came to us at a point in our lives when there was sorrow and emptiness, and he filled our hearts with joy and laughter. In his short life he taught us much. He taught us how to forgive, how to laugh, how to explore, how to live, how to fight, and how to accept mortality. Are those self projections onto him? Perhaps, but we couldn't have learned and reflected without him. He didn't meet all the AKC standards perhaps, but he met the most important standard of all, love. We loved him, he loved us. There will never be another Charlie. It has been written before, 
but if love could have saved him, he would have lived forever. That's who Charlie was.
Charlie would be happy to know that Ruby will be keeping his beloved parents supplied with laughs and snuggles and kisses.
In Loving Memory of Prince Charles…
Yesterday I lost my girl of 11 years, Emily. She was my constant companion - my shadow. She went to work with me, traveled with me, slept beside me. Mostly, she loved me with a complete and unconditional love. I was privileged to be her mama and will carry her in my heart until the day I die.
We bought her having never owned an indoor dog. My youngest son wanted a small indoor dog, but he and his older brother were allergic to them. Enter Emily the Maltese. I expected all the work and responsibility that come with a puppy. I did not expect the bond that she and I would forge, grow and cherish.
She quickly became the 5th member of our family, our only little girl and ultimately, one of my closest friends. She was never far from me, and even sat in my CEO chair with me at work, tucked behind my back with her head resting on the arm. She filled our home with so much personality, love and joy.
As my boys grew up and grew out of our home, Emily was there. She was such a comfort as I transitioned from daily mama duty to an empty nest. Sure, she slowed down a bit. Her hearing wasn't as sharp. She'd developed a couple of small cataracts on her eyes. But she could sniff me out wherever I was, and was certain to never let me out of her sight for long. My hands were always on her - rubbing, petting, loving. She always made sure some part of her was touching me.
Frankly, I am shocked at the depth and breadth of the grief I feel, but I shouldn't be. At work, at home, in our camper, in my car, our vacation home, my parents' house - Emily was there. Almost everywhere I went, Emily went. Everywhere I turn, I miss her. My hands are empty. I don't quite know what to do with myself. My routine was built around taking care of Emily.
I don't know if all Maltese dogs are as awesome as Emily was. I don't know if we just really lucked out and God gave me the little girl I had always longed for. I do know the He blessed us when He brought Emily into our lives, and I am just as confident that she felt blessed by us.
When I bought her I made her a promise to take care of her and love her. I kept that promise, right up until the end. Her liver was failing. Her vet and I fought so hard for her. Emily fought hard, too, to give me the time to come to terms with the inevitable and to say goodbye. She was so selfless that way. Her last night, she let me know she ready to go. I told her it was ok, and I promised to end her suffering. The next morning her vet ran blood work that confirmed our measures were failing. And so we discussed what to do and how to honor her.
I can't tell you how hard it is moving forward without Emily. But I am doing it. I know she wouldn't want me to be so sad or heart broken. And I know that one day I won't be. Right now though, that feels like an eternity away. Thank you for allowing me to share. Cooper followed Emily!
In Loving Memory of Emily…
OUR MISS MAGNOLIA:
We called her Maggee. She was the only female and the smallest of our furbabies but she was the indisputable leader of the pack. Maggee was intended for our daughter as a birthday gift 11 years ago. My husband had just returned from his second deployment with the Marine Corps and our daughter was having a hard time adjusting to being a military family during wartime. She begged her daddy through tears to let her have Maggee…and he caved.
Maggee was our first Maltese and little did we know that a love affair with this breed and our family had just begun. It only took a couple of weeks for everyone to realize that Miss Maggee was going to be momma’s little princess. The bond was instant and deep and from that moment on she was never very far from my side. My husband was a Marine, he’s a big, strong, outdoors kind of guy…but this sweet little creature wrapped him around her little paw. It was adorable to watch him with this tiny little dog.
Maggee was spunky and independent and fearless. She was also sweet and loving and affectionate. She was everything you could ever want in a companion dog. I am a homemaker so our furbabies are with me everyday as I go about my daily routine. Miss Maggee was the center of that daily routine. First thing in the morning we did potties and then she had her chicken and veggies…and if you were late getting it for her she would let you know. Then she would curl up with me while I drank my coffee and read my morning scripture on our screened in porch. Throughout the day as I went about my house chores, Maggee was right there. At my feet as I washed dishes, laying on the bed as I folded laundry, basking in the sun as I pruned flowers and bushes outside. Where momma was…Maggee was! Bedtime was no different…it revolved around Magnolia. Maggee was the only one of our furbabies that slept with us. She laid on her daddy’s chest and got her nightly massage while she gazed at the salt lamp on the night stand. (she loved to stare at that lamp) Then once she felt like dad had given her enough attention she would snuggle in with momma and settle in for the night. She was our princess and the house revolved around Miss Maggee.
About one month ago our precious Magnolia passed away. It was peaceful, and quick. She was in my arms as she took her last breath and a peace of my heart died that day with her. I knew I would struggle with her passing, but I had no idea the depths my grief would go. I sobbed for days and I still shed tears on almost a daily basis. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I avoided talking to anyone, I was a mess. I felt like my heart had shattered! Everything makes me cry because she had been such a huge part of my daily routine for years. We still have dogs in the house (all male) and I love each one of them dearly, but my arms and my heart aches for another little princess. I don’t know how long it will take for me to be able to go about my day or look at the many photo’s we have without tears burning my eyes, but people assure me that those days will come. Magnolia was a blessing that brought so much joy to our home and our family. And as our children have grown into the young adults they are today Maggee was momma’s baby and helped fill that void that happens during that transition in life when your children grow up. My heart is overwhelmed with sorrow at the loss of 
our Magnolia but I wouldn’t sacrifice one moment that we shared with that precious little creature and I am so grateful that she left her little paw prints all over our life and our hearts! We love her so!
Priscilla & Paisley have followed in Maggee’s paw prints!
My name is Diana and Just two weeks ago I kissed my Princess, Macy Ann goodbye.
She was almost 9 years old and had developed cancer 9 months ago.
She was Champion on the male side and her Mother and was beautiful.
When I say she was a princess, she was.
We have another Maltese and a sweet rescue Pomeranian/Chihuahua mis. She would not take a walk with them nor eat with them. I had to walk her separately and feed her seperately.
She was so inquisitive. When my girlfriends stopped by and put their purses on the floor, she would dig into each purse pulling out lipstick, pens and whatever got her interest!
She loved going out in the walled coutyard and looking in the flower bed.
I think of her all the time and miss her terribly! I will always love you sweet Macy Ann!
Goodbye Macy Ann
Noah ......
Two weeks ago, I lost my sweet little boy Noah. I had the extraordinary pleasure of sharing 12 years of my life with him. Noah got sick suddenly. I did everything I could to save him, but there were just too many complications. I was lucky to have been able to be with and care for him everyday for the last month of his life. Noah was a fighter. I am pretty sure he held on and fought for me.
Noah was very sweet, and empathetic. He could sense when someone - me, a neighbor, a friend - needed him. He looked at you in a way that made you feel he could read your soul. Affectionate. A great kisser. My lap was the best seat in the house. Absolute best Saturday night -- curled up on the sofa with Noah watching a movie.
When my dad got sick Noah was right there by my side helping take care of him, of me. As a therapy dog, he gave comfort to not only my dad but others.
I miss Noah very much. There is something missing from my life....
But, Noah did something incredibly special for me. He somehow led me to this site and to Barbara. I am now looking forward to welcoming a puppy - Noah's little brother - who Noah will be looking over and guiding from heaven.
A Letter from the Rainbow Bridge
Hi Mom!
Now that I’ve been across The Rainbow Bridge for a couple weeks, they said I should write a letter home.
Sorry, mom, but I’m so busy across the bridge that I haven’t thought of home much. They said it’s okay and that you would understand. I hope you do. (I think you will.)
Remember that night when I wasn’t feeling very well and we were all crying? I don’t remember much, but I do remember seeing and hearing you and feeling your touches and hugs. I remember hearing ‘we love you’ and that one last command of “Go through”. I didn’t know what you meant, so I turned around and walked through the fog that was in front of me. I saw the biggest bridge I’ve ever seen! And so many friends on the other side of it! They were all playing with toys and balls! You were right to tell me to go there!
My feet kept moving forward, but my heart kept pulling me back. Your touches became lighter and lighter and I wanted to come back and nudge your hands for more love, but I was overcome by this feeling of curiosity for the happy place over the bridge! My feet started moving on their own, like a gentle breeze was moving them forward for me! I can’t explain it, but I had no doubt that it was the right thing to do! So, I walked across that big, huge bridge by myself! I looked for you, because you’re always by my side, walking with me, but this was different. I didn’t have a collar around my neck or a leash connecting me to you ~ I was ‘free’! Even though you weren’t there with me, I never felt alone! I actually felt like I had a huge cape of love wrapped around my body and the more I walked, the easier it was to breathe! So, I kept walking! And I would feel more warmth in the big hug, so I kept on walking! I eventually made it over the big bridge. “I did it by myself, mom!”
When I got here, all of my new friends greeted me and helped me walk off the bridge ~ it was so cool! They gave me a pair of wings and said that I was now a Guardian Angel! What I’ve learned over these past few weeks has been amazing and nothing like I’ve seen before! We’re all the same up here ~ we all have wings and we all have Forever People to watch over ~ that’s YOU, mom! You’re my Forever Person and I’m your Forever Dog! We had such a great life together and I do miss you a LOT, but please know that I am so happy in my new home across The Bridge! I’ll send you another Earth Angel so you won’t be alone. Give them your whole heart, like you gave it to me.
I’ll check in every so often to make sure they treasure your love ~ I always did! When you miss me, think of a rainbow and know I’m on the other side of it, waiting to walk with you again. I’ll always be in your heart. I love you, mom! Time for me to go play! Here i am......see me!!
In Loving Memory of Wolf
These are pics taken during Wolf's last two months of life. They show his adorable and loving personality even when he was sick.
Wolf was a sweet, loving, wonderful little boy. We had him from the time he was 12 wks old until he was 10 1/2.
When he was a pup, he loved running figure eights, chasing birds and squirrels in a grassy park nearby. As he got older (and after the city stopped me from letting him run in the park), he just loved his two daily walks, sniffing everything to see who and what had been there. We called this activity Wolf's version of reading the daily news.
Wolf was a "people dog". He enjoyed the dogs who belonged to our family members and friends, but people were his favorite. And people loved him back. I can't tell you how many flowers, cards, and books people sent after Wolf's death on May 3, 2017. This brought us great joy through our tears.
Wolf was a frequent traveler--we hardly went anywhere without him.
He was a funny little puppy. He would toss his kibble up in the air and run to "capture it". Sometimes he would line each piece up kibble in a row in front of his dish, and eat them in order.
Wolf loved tv, sitting in the sun, belly rubs, foot massages (which he got twice a day as we washed his little paws after each walk, making sure to massage every pad. He would lay his head against us in pure delight as we did this.
We miss him so much. He will be our special boy forever.
ETH
