Kristone Phoenix For Remuda.(J Bar D Mystic Warrior x Kristone Medicine Woman)ASCA, AKC & KC Registered.

Phoenix was a huge part of the "Remuda" foundation along with Blaze, Tigger and Hobbes,.

Phoenix came to live with me in November 2002 having completed her 6 months in quarantine.

Phoenix was mine from the age of 8 weeks but we did not meet until May 2002 when I flew to Missouri with my youngest daughter Elizabeth to collect her from her breeder Kris Toft (Kristone)

Phoenix and I bonded at once and she was quite simply the best. She was named by my late husband George. My plans to breed a litter at that time, were in ashes and George named her "Phoenix" with tears in his eyes for me. George never got to meet her as he was killed in an accident approx 7 weeks after naming her.

Character tested "Excellent" the testers told me that usually there is a dog among the group that they want to take home and that day it was Phee.

I truly cannot express how much I loved her and how much I miss her.

Phoenix was born on 26th Feb.2001. Tradgedy struck us July 2006.

Phoenix can never be replaced or forgotten and the guilt and pain of her loss lives with me forever.

The Power of the Dog

by

Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way

From men and women to fill our day;

And when we are certain of sorrow in store,

Why do we always arrange for more?

Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware

Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy

Love unflinching that cannot lie--

Perfect passsion and worship fed

By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.

Nevertheless it is hardly fair

To risk your heart to a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits

Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,

And the vet's unspoken prescription runs

To lethal chambers or loaded guns,

Then you will find--it's your own affair--

But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,

With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)

When the spirit that answered your every mood

Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,

You will discover how much you care,

And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,

When it comes to burying Christian clay.

Our loves are not given, but only lent,

At compound interest of cent per cent.

Though it is not always the case, I believe,

That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:

For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,

A short-term loan is as bad as a long--

So why in--Heaven (before we are there)

Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?