College of Veterinary Medicine

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Yakima Red

Yakima Red's Memorial
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A donation was made in Yakima Red's memory by Doctors and Staff of the Sacajawea Healthcare for Pets. His memorial was created on 3/6/2014.
To our boy: Yakima Red Schairer Juvinall

When you were young, you were the color of our favorite microbrew at the time: Yakima Red-- a red amber ale with a lot of character, like you. (and kind of like Yosemite Sam.)
You were rightly proud of your beautiful orange mane and fluffy tail.

As you got older, you talked more to us. There was the gentle soprano trill ("rrrr?")-- a question in the middle of the night as we walked down the hall. "Getting up, Mom?" Or maybe, mid afternoon, you'd demand "Out. Now!". You used to actually like going to the vet because you got so much attention, but as illness (and interventions) became more painful, you did not like those trips. You'd say "Ooo-ooh!", with the end syllable going up, sounding just like a whiny kid. "Ooo-ooh, do I have to?" One of the technicians heard you & chuckled "you funny, grumpy little man."

Before arthritis took it's toll, you used to love to climb the ladder and help me trim the hedge. Good view of the neighborhood-- and an occasional hug. You'd lick my sweat, a special salty treat. In the past couple of years, your favorite was to sit on the back swing with me as I read. You'd just curl up and relax in the sun.

Most recently, bedtime was best. You'd walk down the hall right after dinner, hoping we'd follow. Lay right outside our bedroom door. When we climbed into bed, you'd take the stair (next to the bed), then go over to "Dad" and get some loving from him before snuggling up on the opposite side of me. Deep, almost silent purr. Nose nestled into my arm. Bliss.

I knew you were in pain when you no longer came to bed. But even on your last day, right before the last trip to the vet, you felt us petting your head and chin. With each out breath was a gentle purr.

We will always miss you, Yak. Thank you for gracing our life with your love.

Good night, sweet prince. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

Love, Mom & Dad

Diane S. & Tim J.

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