Sometimes, Amanda would have trouble walking up the stairs. Her hearing grew weak, her vision grew cloudy, and she seemed so very tired. Yet every now and then, her tail would wag, and she would look at me with those dark brown eyes so I could see the puppy inside.
For the Love of a Great Dog Named Amanda
Written by Nancy on January 5, 2012
The Rainbow Bridge
Written by Braiden on December 1, 2011
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.
Timmy, waiting at the top of the hill to walk us home
Written by Denise Gaffney Neu on September 29, 2011
My Mom says Timmy knew. That he had already chosen a time and place and was waiting only to make sure that my sister and I made it off into the world, or, in my mom’s words, “out of the house.”
Keep reading: Timmy, waiting at the top of the hill to walk us home
Five More Minutes with Keenya
Written by Mike Kiger on May 16, 2011
Keenya was family, and he was taken from us way too soon.
Adieu to Adored Pets
Written by Kelly Meister on April 7, 2011
I’ve had to euthanize several beloved pets through the years.
My Dog Willie
Written by Tony on March 4, 2011
If I had five more minutes with my dog Willie, I would scratch behind his ears and take him for a quick walk.
Lost Love: Rambo
Written by Karrie on February 13, 2011
Rambo saved my heart. I would have become really bitter and would have had no room for love my in heart if it would not have been for him.
God Stories
Written by Braiden on January 18, 2011
I am long overdue in bringing to the attention of the Five More Minutes With audience God Stories, a Web site and book written by former CNN investigative reporter Jennifer Skiff.
Matchin, Dad’s Beautiful St. Bernard
Written by David on August 9, 2010
If I had 5 more minutes with Matchin, I’d give them to my dad. Who knows what those 5 minutes would do for him…could he have made it to the vet? Probably not.
Courageous, Proud, and Loving to the End
Written by Carole on April 23, 2010
Lucius always seemed to know when I was having a bad day. He would come over to where I was sitting and put his paw on my thigh to comfort me. He would let out a strange, muffled bark as if to say “I’ll stand here and comfort you until everything is okay.”



















































