On May 21, 2004 Shiloh was diagnosed with high grade malignant lymphoma. On May 22, 2004, through donations from friends and family and several “help save Shiloh” garage sales, Shiloh started chemotherapy. We were all hopeful that chemotherapy would put the cancer in remission for a least a year if not cure it all together. On August 17, 2004, the veterinary oncologist reported that Shiloh’s lymphoma was so aggressive that Shiloh was out of remission before she had even finished her chemo regime. On September 17, 2004 Shiloh lost her bravely fought battle to lymphoma. She started her journey to the rainbow bridge at 9:20 that night.

Shiloh lived her life like the following quote…

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, a dog bone in one paw, a chew toy in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"

On Shiloh’s last day, we spent the day together…I reminisced...I told Shiloh about her life with me…I laughed and cried…Shiloh listened.

This is a very short version, but it kind of went something like this…

Shiloh, I remember the first time I saw you. It was after school on a September day in 1999. I was getting ready to leave school for the day when I saw a silhouette of a little dog run by the window in the middle school library. I took a detour on my way to the car…I just had to see what this little dog looked like. I opened the door in the library that went to the little atrium area where they had put you. I called “hey, pup” and you came running…a cute little red and white, frecklie faced puppy, with no tail. In addition to falling all over yourself when you ran up to me, you peed everywhere too. I knelt down and petted you, told you that you were cute, said “Godspeed little pup” and closed the door. That’s when the librarian said to me that the town dog catcher had been called and that you’d probably be taken out and shot since there was no pound. I was mortified. How could stray animals be taken out and just shot? I knew I didn’t really want a dog…after all, I was a cat person, but you were very cute and I knew I could find a good home for you. Meanwhile, another teacher had seen you and started petting you, she was relieved when I told her I would take you and find a home for you. As we left, that teacher said “goodbye, Baby Shiloh.” I thought the name was cute, so that’s what I would call you…when I found you a new home, your new owners could keep the name, or change it. I held you on my lap all the way home. You were so sweet and so good. That’s what I thought until we got home and I discovered that not only were you covered with ticks…I was too. I took you to school the next day and bribed my students not to tell the principal that you were there. That day at school you got a flea and tick bath. The kids loved you. They would argue over who got to take you outside. I guess that’s when your love for children developed. You always loved little kids…you were always gentle and kind with them.
As the days passed I kind of started to really like you…the more I liked you, the less I looked for another home for you. By the end of your first week with me, you had found a new home…smack dab right in the middle of my heart.
Our first year together was an adjustment for the whole family. The kitties adjusted to having a dog around and so did I. That first year was full of chewed sneakers, chased kitties, and kitty scratches on your nose…and bee stings. Remember those bee hives we had for a while? It didn’t take you long to learn that playing next to those white boxes was not a good idea. You were always so full of energy…you’d get up in the morning and help me with all my chores and while helping me with the chores you’d find time to chase a few crows, bark at the neighbors horses, and run around like crazy. That first year was wonderful. You were always up for a game of ball, always ready to run after your Frisbee, and always ready for a belly rub. You were developing a wonderful personality…playful and independent, yet kind and loving.
In year 2, you really matured. The chewed lawn furniture, hoses, tools, BBQ grill, and a variety of other things kind of faded into the past. Your chewing needs were satisfied with a nightly rawhide chewy. You no longer chased that cats, you became their buddy and protector. You, Strappy, and Calvin became the best of friends. You did, however, harass them from time to time by running up to them and poking them with your nose, then you’d run away as fast as you could. As you matured, so did our relationship. You were my friend and my companion. We took long walks in the morning and in the evening. Whenever possible, I’d take you with me in the car. I was never embarrassed by all the dog fur and dog nose smudges in my car.
In year 3 you became not only my friend and companion, but also my comforter. That was the year your grandpa got so sick. I can remember spending hours at the hospital with him and grandma…coming home to you was so comforting and was such a breath of life. I felt bad that I had to be away from you so much, but I think you understood why I had to be gone.
Year 4 was a good year…for the most part. We had lots of snow days…you loved the snow. You loved to sniff and roll in it, and you loved to chase snow balls. No matter spring, winter, fall, or summer we played…we played hide and seek, we took lots of rides together, you developed your great love for digging in prairie dog holes, and we took so many wonderful walks. On our early morning walks you taught me to truly appreciate a beautiful sunrise. You taught me so many things, Shiloh. Things that words can’t describe…things for which I will be eternally grateful.
You were just shy of your 5th birthday when on a cold February night I found a lump in your neck. My friend said it was just a normal node, but I knew in my heart something was wrong. We went to the vet, took antibiotics, did needle biopsies, and finally did a whole node biopsy. That’s when the lymphoma diagnosis came. For the last 6 ½ months of your life, you spent more time at the vet’s than any dog should have to. You were poked, prodded, given shots, pills, and an icky diet, but through all of that you kept your zest for life. That’s what I respect most about you, Shiloh, is that you never wallowed in your illness. You looked forward to each new day…be it a day at the oncologist’s or a day in the prairie dog town…you loved it. You loved life. You loved living. Shiloh it’s your love for life that has brought me to the decision to ease your suffering. Today and yesterday you’ve been so uncomfortable and in pain, you aren’t interested in eating, you’re not even interested in going for a walk. Your doctor will coming over tonight to stop your pain. Tonight, sweet Shiloh, you’ll be running and playing in a place where there are no fences. A place where there’s a prairie dog hole everywhere you look…a place where lymphoma doesn’t exist. I won’t be there when you arrive, but I’ll be a long in time. I’m going to miss you more than words can describe, but I have to set you free. Because of your pain and discomfort, it would be selfish of me to keep you here any longer.

Shiloh’s vet arrived at 8:45 that night. Shiloh bravely endured her last two injections and she died peacefully in my arms. As she breathed her last breath I whispered “I love you, Shiloh. Godspeed, little pup,” and at 9:20 she was gone.


Dear Shiloh,

You’ve been gone for 6 months now…half a year. Sometimes I feel like I just saw you yesterday…sometimes it feels like an eternity. I miss you, sweet, baby Shiloh. I’ve written this tribute for you. You’re memory will live on not only in my heart, but also at this website. My commitment is to continue to add memories and tributes and letters to you throughout time.

Shiloh, this song by Diamond Rio describes how I feel so many days. Thanks to Cheri for posting the lyrics…

Last night I had a crazy dream
A wish was granted just for me
It could be for anything
I didn't ask for money
Or a mansion in Malibu
I simply wished, for one more day with you

Chorus

One more day
One more time
One more sunset, maybe I'd be satisfied
But then again
I know what it would do
Leave me wishing still, for one more day with you

First thing I'd do, is pray for time to crawl
Then I'd unplug the telephone
And keep the TV off
I'd hold you every second
Say a million I love you's
That's what I'd do, with one more day with you

Chorus

Leave me wishing still, for one more day
Leave me wishing still, for one more day


I love you Shiloh Bilow. I’ll see you my dreams and forever hold you in my heart.

Kathleen, your tribute brought me to tears. What a story about how she came to you!

I love the bit about the kids! That must have been such a special time when they took turns taking her out. You and Shiloh taught them a lot about animals - that's great. Those kids will always remember that.

Shiloh and the chewing - that brought back memories to me of a certain little black pup named Luba. Do you know that Luba tried eating broken GLASS once? We were out on a walk when she was about 4 months old when I suddenly heard something crunching darngerously in her mouth. I grabbed her, flipped her onto her back and proceeded to pry a large, jagged broken piece of glass out of her throat. My fingers were all bloody, but I was relieved that it was my blood, and not hers. What a pup!

Thanks for sharing your and her story - Steph

Dear Kathleen, As I was reading your tribute to beautiful Shiloh I felt like I was right there beside you embracing you and Shiloh. I cried throughout the whole story and am still crying tears of the joy she brought to you and tears for the loss of your beautiful baby. Your words of love for her and to her gripped my heart. That photo of her in the snow is wonderful and it makes me want to kiss her freckles one by one. I am just so sorry she could not have stayed longer with you.
Love, Ann

Kathleen,

That was beautiful..............a wonderful tribute to a precious friend. I couldn't stop crying reading about her life with you and how hard you tried to save her.

Love,
Lynn

Dear Kathleen,

What a beautiful and touching tribute! Shiloh was an absolute beauty
I just loved your recount of life with Shiloh. It brought me so many tears. She taught you and your family so many wonderful lessons in life, didn't she? She endured all the poking and prodding, all the visits to the vet and never lost her zest for life. I think that is just so awesome! What an Angel!

You have brought her into all our lives too. We all miss your precious Shiloh! I feel like I knew her, and I can just feel all the warmth and love from her in your photos. She had such unusual markings. So beautiful!!!!

You and Shiloh are in my thoughts during this six month annivesary!
Hugs,
Cheri

Kathleen-

You know how I feel about both you and Shiloh. Her story has touched me in a way that I will never be able to describe. All I can say is that I am all the better for having known both of you. Godspeed little Shiloh....

Caroline

Oh, Kathleen, What a beautiful, beautiful story of the life and love you and Shiloh shared. My heart goes out to you. Yes, Godspeed little Pup Shiloh!
(I love that song too. It's so perfect.)
Love,
Marcia

In Memory of little pup Shiloh:

Hi Kathleen,

Just wanted you to know that you and Shiloh continue to be in my thoughts and prayers. I'm so glad you shared the story of your life with Shiloh...she was just meant to be yours...and you hers! Your story was both funny and sad but most of all, it was very heartwarming. I'm very honored to know both you and Shiloh.

Here's a hug for you both, {{{{{{{{{Kathleen and Shiloh}}}}}}}}

__Jim

Kathleen,
Your story of life with Shiloh warmed my heart and is a beautiful tribute to your "little pup".
Hugs,
Fran

Your six month tribute to Shiloh............. was a beautiful love story that deeply touched my heart.

Bless you and thank you .

My thoughts are with you and Shiloh.

Sincerely......

Litebrez

lmye

I'm so sorry, your story of shiloh and the fact you continue to grieve after this long is a testimony to your love for her. I have just begun my journey of sorrow and grief I lost my little dog Bo 4 days ago and the pain is unbearable.
I would not wish this sorrow on my worst enemy.
I hope you and all of us find peace soon, but until then know that the burden of grief is shared by many.

Dear Steph, Ann, Lynn, Cheri, Caroline, Marcia, Jim, Fran, Litebrez, and Bo's Dad,

Thanks so much for taking time to read Shiloh's tribute, and for having such nice things to say. Everyday I'm so thankful for my LS family. I know the load of my grief has been greatly lightened by the love and support I've felt here.

Love,
Kathleen

PS - Ann, I'm touched that you mentioned Shiloh's freckles...I used to tell Shiloh that all of her freckles were places that God kissed her, and I'd finish by saying that God sure must have loved her because she sure had a lot of freckles.

Hiya, Shiloh!

Little Koda found a present from you today. A present you left for him probably about a year ago. It was one of the rawhide bones you buried in the yard. When I saw him carrrying around a big, limp, stinky piece of rawhide I knew exactly who gave it to him!

It made me remember you and how overwhelmed you'd get when I'd give you a big rawhide bone (you always preferred the little strips). You'd carry the bone around the house with a frightened look on your face, begging to go outside. I'd finally let you out and you'd come back about 15 minutes later looking relieved. I knew you hadn't eaten it...I knew you'd buried somewhere. Remembering this brought a smile to my face. Thanks for making me smile today, sweet Shiloh.
I love you.

Kathleen,

I LOVE that picture! So sweet that Shiloh................

Lynn

Dear Kathleen

I felt I already knew and loved your precious Shiloh dearly from learning about her in previous posts. But when I read your tribute to her just now, the tears were just flooding out of my eyes and down my cheeks... as I read her story.

That dear wonderful sweet girl. What a joy she was to you and what a magnificent spirit she had and will always have. I sometimes wonder if our furbabies are angels in disguise who come here to teach us lessons in love.

Thank you for sharing her tribute ... she will always be remembered for the very special girl that she will always be.

With love
jilly

Jilly - Very well said....................I couldn't agree more. Our furpals are angels and do they ever teach us about love. They ask nothing from us and give so much.

Lynn

Hello Kathleen,

Thanks for sharing the funny story of Shiloh and her huge rawhide bone. It managed to bring a smile to my face and the picture of her with the bone is priceless. God love her...it was so thoughtful of her to send her mom a cute memory to brighten her day. ......and very kind of you to share it with the rest of us.

Isn't it great how the passage of time seems to help us replace the sad memories with happy ones?

__Jim

Oh my goodness what a CUTE photo!!!

Thanks for posting it!

Dear Lynn, Sen, Jilly, Jim, Steph, and all my dear friends here-

Thank you for taking time to read about Shiloh and adding your comments. Reading the kind things that are said always brings tears to my eyes. You've all helped me so much in dealing with the loss of my dear friend, Shiloh. I find so much comfort in knowing that others share the same kind of true love for animals that I do.

Love,
Kathleen

Kathleen,

I must agree, that picture of Shiloh is just adorable.
I know we have all talked about her beautiful markings, but I don't ever remember seeing what her breed is? Do you know, or did you find? I just think she looks SO, SO beautifully elegant and yet cute and playful all at the same time in her photos.

Cheri