To give you a little background, I purchased my dog after moving to North Carolina from New York State where we lived for 17 years.  He was born March 20, 1990, one day before my birthday.  I was very lonely and missed my family and friends so much in New York.  I thought a new puppy might perk me up, and hopefully be my "best friend."  I had never owned a dog or pet since early childhood.  I worked at home from the day I got my dog, so we were together all the time, inseparable.  He was always nearby, if not in the same room, in very close proximity to where I was.  We chuckled how he followed me from room to room, especially if I was very busy and moving around a lot. If I ever went out of town, my family told me how he just laid near the front door waiting for my return and seemed visible depressed.  He truly surpassed my hopes of becoming my best friend.  We absolutely adored each other.  He loved the rest of the family, and everyone he met, but not anyone to the degree he loved me.  This was so evident, he would not even let my husband hold his leash on walks, only I could hold it. My daughter used to tease me "I think you love Sandy more than you do me."  (And to be honest, some days I did during those teen years!!!)  What unconditional love he had!!

We moved to Myrtle Beach, SC in August 1996.  I had to go back to North Carolina for a week to work on selling a home and left my dog with my daughter, who loved him very much.  She called me and said "mom you need to come home, Sandy just bites at his tail nonstop and there's no hair left on it."  Mind you, this was a Pomeranian...they have very large fluffy tails.  I came on home and sure enough his tail was raw.  I took him to the vet.  We thought maybe fleas.  We found no fleas and determined it was probably from separation anxiety.  His tail never came back fully from permanent damage.

January 1997 I took him to the vet for a sore on his bottom lip.  It turned out to be mast cell disease.  It came back three more times, eventually losing his bottom right lip.  I lived in dread that the disease had a 50/50 chance of spreading internally.  The vet put him on long-term prednisone treatment to suppress mast cell disease.  After two months he developed diabetes.  A year later he was going blind from cataracts from the diabetes.  I took him to Charleston, SC for lens implants to restore his vision in June 1998.  This was a great success and worth the $2000 and I would do it all over again.  (I have average income only.)  My neighbors, who both had dogs, said they couldn't believe all I did for Sandy and the eye surgery.  They said they would have let their dogs go blind.  I learned then there are different degrees of love for our pets for sure.  In September 1998 it had spread to his lymph nodes in his neck.

My dog became ill on Friday September 17th.  This was the sickest he had ever been.  By Monday he had dangerously low blood counts and they did a transfusion.  The next day I took him down to a specialist in Charleston and it was there that he had a massive seizure in my arms and I "set him free" from his pain and suffering, one of the most difficult days of my life.  My daughter was with me thank goodness as we had a two-hour drive back home.  I left Sandy there to be cremated and they were to send me his cremated remains.

I spent the week waiting for his remains to arrive making a collage of my beloved dog and missing him so much.  I cried more than anyone knows.  I told my husband, you know, I feel guilty that I did not grieve this badly when my dad died; and my mom is not well and I don't think I'll take losing her as bad as my San Dog.  That's just not normal is it?  God blessed me with my husband's answer.  He said "on the contrary, I think it is perfectly natural.  Your dad was 72, your mom is 79.  You have not lived with them for 27 years.  You were with San Dog day and night for 9 1/2 years, devoted to one another, especially during his illness this past year, insulin shots twice a day."  This helped me put his loss in perspective and relieved my guilt.

The crematorium called me on Saturday morning.  I broke down on the phone talking to them.  They assured me they were very careful and reputable and highly ethical and that I would only be receiving the ashes of my pet and he would arrive Tuesday or Wednesday from Charleston.  Tuesday came and he did not.  So I knew he would arrive Wednesday.  When the mailman's car pulled up I was trembling.  I was just sooooo grief stricken that my beautiful doggie was reduced to these "ashes."  But I still felt I need them back and we decided to bury them in the back yard under a Pampas bush (they have beautiful large fluffy plumes that remind us of our dog and his fur).  The ashes arrived, I opened the box crying hysterically.  I told Sandy how much I loved him and missed him (tears in my eyes now as I recall that day).  I placed him next to the toilet in my master bathroom because that was his favorite place to lie.  We weren't going to bury him until my husband was home that weekend.  I returned to my home office to finish my medical transcription.  Two hours later I went to use that bathroom.  As I was standing looking down on his remains and telling him how much I missed him, a light rose from the ashes.  My immediate reaction was literally "what the hell???"  I returned to my typing.  I delivered my work and when I returned home I called my son and told him about my "miracle," which by then I felt it was.  Then I called my husband and told him at work, and then I called my sister-in-law and told her.  They had all felt so badly for me losing Sandy.  Interestingly, they all seemed to believe my story.

BUT, I myself by the next day began doubting it.  And I think an amazing thing happened as a result.  I wear a gold nugget necklace and I saw some reflections from it in my office and I said to myself "maybe that's what I saw in the bathroom yesterday."  I literally went into the bathroom and tried to duplicate these reflections.  I could not.  There is no window in that area, only overhead light and no reflection could be duplicated.  Then it struck me, wait a minute, the reflections in my office came OFF something, the light I saw was suspended in free space, above the remains, not OFF of something like the wall, etc.  THEN, the next morning a friend of mine called to give me her condolences about losing Sandy.  When I told her of my attempt to "disprove" the event, she said "why are you trying to disprove it, just accept it for what it was."  I said I know.  She proceeded to share with me that she had heard her Doberman's nails on the floor after he died.  An hour later my brother-in-law called and said "So, I heard about your light."  I told him of my recent doubting thoughts and trying to duplicate it.  He said "why are you trying to disprove it, why don't you just accepet it for what it was."  Almost exact words of my friend.  THEN, that night when I picked my husband up at the airport and told him of my doubts, and attempts to duplicate the event, he said "why are you trying to disprove it, why don't you just accept it."  I'm telling you, three people in the same day, using almost the exact words, was a true message to me.  I found that almost as paranormal as my light experience.  I have never since that time doubted what I saw.  In fact, I would say the light became clearer in my memory.

I can describe it with the clearest of recollection, a little larger than a golf ball, gold center, lighter color around the edges.  I began to feel very blessed that I was the recipient of one of God's miracles.  I have thoroughly enjoyed sharing my miracle with others, and watching their reactions.  I find that most truly believe that I saw a light rise from my dog's ashes.

I think another "proof" of my miracle is the otherwise unexplained insatiable thirst for things of this nature.  I went to Barnes and Nobles to look for books.  Let me back up.  Two months before my dog got sick, I very impulsively picked up James Van Praagh's book "Talking to Heaven".  I had no idea there were animal stories in there.  Well, there is a wonderful story in there about a deaf woman wanting to contact her beloved Charlie who had passed.  James did not know who she wanted to contact.  But indeed a dog came through on the reading, giving clear details about the home, his illness, and even describing the next service animal she would be settling on.  My daughter came into my room and said "mom are you crying?"  I handed her this story of Charlie and said "read this."  She read it and I shared with her then that it was a wonderful story but that I was so afraid that God was trying to prepare me for losing my San Dog.  While he was perfectly healthy acting at the time, I knew he could get ill from his mast cell disease at any time.  Indeed, the story did prepare me for my loss of Sandy, still terribly grief stricken, but comforted to know he lived on.  The light combined with James' story made me sure of that.  Yet I still could not satisfy my thirst for things of this nature.  I stood in Barnes and Nobles for three hours reading about these things.  I bought many books, and every single one of them have had animal stories in them.  I have absolutely no doubt whatsoever that God, or a higher being (guides I'm learning about, guardian angel, etc.) assisted me in what to purchase because I have read some of the most wonderful stories of pets greeting people who have had NDE's, and about pets being used to welcome children, etc.

About a month later my husband and I went to Hilton Head, SC for the weekend.  He was golfing with friends Saturday morning and I was on the beach with my book "Hello from Heaven."  It was an unusually warm day.  The beach was full of people, an elderly couple in chairs 50 feet to my left, three girls in their bathing suits just 15 feet to my right.  Lots of walkers and people with their dogs.  This made me very sad because my Sandy loved to walk on the beach with us and chase the seagulls.  I was reading about ADC's in my book and moved to talk to Sandy.  I told him I wish he would send me an ADC.  In fact I asked him won't he visit me some how.  Shortly after this a man was coming up the beach with a large dog.  If you saw Turner and Hooch, he looked just like the Hooch dog.  I watched people on the beach and their dogs more than I read actually.  So I watched this man come from a long distance with his large dog, who I only saw stop and urinate every few feet, but he never approached not one of the many people on the beach.  They passed by me up the beach in the other direction.  I watched till they were out of sight.  The dog never approached anyone.  And most dogs were on leashes but not this dog.  I went back to my reading.  When I looked up several moments later, I saw this same man coming back in my direction.  I watched and watched.  Again, that huge dog never approached anyone, the couple to my left.  Just then, the dog, who had been lingering behind his owner most all the time, being a male stopping to "mark his territory over another dog's", came running AHEAD of his owner, apparently right towards me.  I was stunned.  My eyes were huge.  For a split second I was frightened, he was so huge and menacing looking, but I quickly told myself "Patti, if he was dangerous he would be on a leash at least."  So my fear left me.  That dog came right up to my low-level beach chair and licked, in long strides, my left arm, three or four licks the length of my arm.  The owner ran to catch up and call to him, apologizing profusely.  I can tell you, that owner could not believe he had done that.  He scolded the dog and I said "it's okay, fortunate for you I'm a dog lover."  I watched them continue up the beach and to my absolute amazement, that dog never approached one other person on that beach, not even close or briefly, nada.  I am here to tell you, I am the only person on that beach that dog came even close to.  I got tears in my eyes and thanked Sandy for visiting me through this dog.  I just have to tell you, Sandy loved to lick your entire hand for salt or whatever, but he gave clear "affectionate" licks, long strides with his tongue like this dog had done to my arm.  (Is this enough detail for you yet??)  I just felt that this dog was conveying affection to me.  My arm was wet from this large animal.  I was so immediately touched that this was an ADC from my pet, that I did not even want to use my beach towel to dry my arm.  I was relishing the "slobber" left behind as a message from my beloved Sandy.