In 2003, my home was burglarized.

The burglars spent the entire day ransacking the entire house. They literally emptied every drawer and went through all the closets looking for money. They helped themselves to what was in the refrigerator and had a field day taking things that my family had worked so hard for.

When my husband returned home from work in the afternoon, one of the burglars shot him in the chest with a .45-caliber gun after robbing him of what little money he had. Thankfully, he survived and is back to normal today. Every year he shares his experience of needing blood at Blood Bank events, thanking current donors for their gift of life and recruiting new donors.

After we came home from the hospital, it took quite a while to sort through the mess. At that time, I still couldn't tell if things were stolen or just out of place. The burglars were efficient (the only nice thing I can say about them). They used my laundry baskets to conveniently carry things out of the house.

Making a list of stolen items for the insurance company, some items were obvious right away: jewelry and electronics.

After several days had passed, I noticed Tiffany's urn was missing. Her ashes were kept in a square bronze urn (similar to the ones they use for humans) that sat on the living room bookshelf next to her picture and her red collar.

Knowing that her urn was stolen upset me for a long time.

I want to share a little about her:

She was a darling puppy.

As a senior citizen, one of her favorite things to do was sit on the driveway wall.

In June 1981, she was adopted from the Hawaiian Humane Society. She was a mixed breed and looked part-Sheltie. When I brought her home, she weighed only 4 pounds and was seriously ill from worms. With care, she recovered and endeared herself to the entire family. Even my grandfather, not an animal lover, thought she was special and smart. Tiffany was also an extremely gentle dog. She ate daintily, slept daintily and even kissed daintily! We would often admire how sweet she was.

At the age of 14, Tiffany passed away. Having her urn at home was a comfort. Whenever I glanced at it, I felt she was always near.

Thinking back about the burglary today, I learned several life lessons:

1. Most things can be replaced, but your loved ones cannot be. Tell your family (pets too) how much you love them every day. For spouses and children who are away from home, even an e-mail reminding them how much they are loved means a lot.

2. Bad things happen to everyone. You can't prevent it, but when it happens, it's how you handle yourself that proves how strong you are. Never let the bad turns in life or bad people win.

3. Tiffany's still around, even though her ashes aren't. When you love something and they love you back, that love never goes away. I don't need an urn to remind me of that.

Animal lover Leslie Kawamoto has been with The Advertiser for 18 years, or 126 in dog years. Check out her blog at www.HonoluluAdvertiser.com/Blogs