Doreen Jeffers sent us this tribute on March 26, 2001.

Katy was the Golden Retriever I had always dreamed of. Affectionate and grand, like a stallion, she was beautiful to watch. On winter nights, we would cuddle by the fireplace, and on hot summer days, she would lounge in her puppy pool with best friend Ben (a Sheltie). She loved to munch on the green apples from our apple tree.
   
Katy lived to be petted. That was the most important thing to her, all the way to the end — being petted. She would follow your hand around and force you to pet her. She volunteered to visit a nursing home where she greeted residents every month for five years. She made so many people happy during their final years. Her favorite resident was Betty. Katy would drag me all the way to the end of the hall to get a "Little Debbie" treat from Betty. Even after Betty passed away, Katy would still drag me down that hall.
   
Katy slowed down quite a bit after she turned 12. Then she began having difficulty walking. On advice of our vet, we prepared to say goodbye. After a few months, she began to refuse food and treats, but still craved being petted. We knew it was time when she stopped going to the bathroom. I was with her at the end. During our last visit to the vet, the radio was playing a song and I was petting her and singing to her, "Every little thing that you do, I'm so in love with you, it just keeps getting better. I want to spend the rest of my life, with you by my side, forever and ever. Every little thing that you do, Katy I'm amazed by you." (I think that she was really singing that middle line to me.)
   
When the vet announced that she didn't feel anything, another peppy country song came on the radio with these lyrics: "I feel nothin'...I feel nothin'..." That song really lightened up the moment. We knew that G-d was programming the radio for us. Then the vet told me she was gone. It was not sad - she was out of pain, and it was a time for rejoicing.
   
Katy is survived by her best friend Ben, and her adopted daughter Dallie, a black Border Collie - Golden Retriever mix. There was a lot of hugging and cuddling and celebrating when I returned home, because Katy was out of pain and on her way to dog heaven or the Rainbow Bridge or whatever you believe in. She had lived a long life of love and service, and I was with her until the end. We have no regrets.