This is posted from Petwarmers. It is very sad but with the season upon us I felt it would be wise to post.

We're publishing Charlene's story today as a warning for everyone who
has garden ponds. As you'll see from her comments, these can be accidents
waiting to happen. Oh yes, they can be beautiful, but there are things you
can do to make them safer. Thanks, Charlene! Your story may save many
pets' lives -- even small children.
Next Petwarmer in your mailbox on Monday morning.

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DON'T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE

She was such a tiny bit of doggie fluff -- three and a half pounds and
five inches high.
Wilson's Lidda Wiggly Fishbait, or Wiggs, was tough. Anyone who'd
ever tried to hold her knew how she got her name.
That sweet face only had to look at me to get the same treats her mom,
Woof, had to earn the hard way. She'd leap lightly onto the bed or sofa, a
feat comparable to you or me leaping onto a porch roof. One time, hearing
a terrible ruckus and the panicky yips of a dog in pain, I'd torn around
the corner of the house expecting the worst. Instead, Woof was braced and
barking. Wiggly, however, was not being slaughtered as I'd imagined.
Instead, she had the neighbor's English Spaniel by the hock. Seeing me, it
leapt in terror and sped away carrying one of Wigg's front teeth with it!
Lately, I had to fashion steps from a footstool and an old jewelry box
for her to make it up on the bed. She'd still take that same old flying
leap to get down though and I dreaded the day she'd snap one of her fragile
old bones and need to be put down. She spent her evenings snuggled between
my right leg and the arm of my chair. Nights she slept with, and on, us.
She rarely failed to greet me at the door. But her hearing had
deteriorated and now there were sometimes no Wiggly greetings. Instead,
I'd find her sleeping on my pillow. So it was not unusual that she did not
greet me this time.
"Where's Wiggly?" I'd asked.
"Probably on the bed," my husband, Art said.
Later when giving the cats their nightly treat, she had still not
appeared. Strange. Wiggs never missed treats. Though nearly deaf and
almost blind, her nose still worked. If food appeared she was there!
She wasn't in the bedroom. Art found me peering under the bed.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Looking for Wiggs," I said. A thorough house check produced no Wiggs.
"I'm going to check outside," I said. "I don't want her lying outside
sick and scared all night." Not there either.
"Oh God," I thought, "Maybe that hawk got her... or a fox!" But when
our cat Buddy, who had come out to look with me ran around the corner of
the house I followed. She'd rarely come back here preferring to stay
within sight of the cat door. Still nothing.
Then I had a thought. I flashed my light across the tub pond we'd
installed last summer. Relieved to see nothing, I held my breath and
looked more closely.
Oh no!
"I found her!" I cried to Art while I knelt there weeping until he
joined me. It was my baby -- cold and still.
The ground around the pond is flat so there was no reason for her to
fall in. We'll never know what happened or how long she struggled to
escape from the steep smooth plastic sides before succumbing to hypothermia
or exhaustion.
We thought we made it safe! Please don't make the same mistake we
did. If you have small children, even the animal kind, and want a pond,
take precautions with shallow edges, raised sides, fences, etc. If we had
anticipated this, we would have done things much differently.
You never want to feel as guilty as I do now.
Perhaps I can apologize at the Rainbow Bridge. I hope so.

-- Charlene Wilson <willawhy @ emcs.net

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Charlene lives in Northeast Pennsylvania, and says, "As I write this, our
cat, Inaway, is on my lap -- something she rarely does. She and Wiggs were
constant companions, so I don't know if she's here looking for comfort or
to comfort me. Either way I'm glad she is. We all need each other don't
we?"
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