Peanut, Arnie

Dear Mr. Levin,
After hearing you on “The Sean Hannity Show” and “The Laura Ingraham Show” I had to write. Honestly, sir, you brought tears to my eyes both times. I, too, have had the pleasure of having rescue dogs. The joy they have brought into my life is without measure.

My first rescue dog, Peanut, was a six-pound, older-than-dirt stray from the SPCA. So tiny she had to be caged in with the cats, Peanut ended up saving my soul. When my husband and I adopted her I was rather depressed and just “out of sorts” with life. While we only had her about a year and a half before we had to make that awful decision to put her to sleep, the pleasure and comfort I got from her will last a lifetime.

After Peanut’s death, I spent most of my waking hours either overcome with gut-wrenching sobs or trying to avoid same. The grief was almost too much to bear.

Then, just when I needed him most, along came Arnie. Arnie was a deaf Chihuahua Pomeranian with a heart murmur and epileptic seizures. But he had the sweetest of dispositions and saved me from grief. He was my husband’s pride and joy. Basically, Arnie’s feet never touched the ground because he was carried around and loved so much.

Unfortunately, Arnie was with us less than a year. It is my greatest wish that that year was the best of his life.

After the heartbreak of losing two very old dogs, my husband began to talk about getting a younger dog. As for me, I’m a firm believer that dogs choose you–not the other way around. Penny proved that theory.

My mother-in-law had spotted two dogs at her local SPCA. A male Maltese and a 5-year old female Lhasa Apso. The male was a complete charmer–sparky, happy, and bouncy. The female, on the other hand, had big haunted eyes and quaked with fear. I left that evening after having put my name in for the little male dog. I didn’t leave with him right away as he was a lost guy and there was a waiting period before he could be adopted.

That’s when Fate stepped in. You see, overnight and all the next day I thought of the scared little Lhasa girl with the big eyes. I called my husband, told him my thoughts and he immediately said “You’ve got to go get the little girl.” And so I did.

The scared little Lhasa Apso (who we called Penny) who haunted me has turned out to be my biggest protector and champion. We are inseperable (partly because she’s got “shelter dog separation anxiety”) and she’s my best buddy.

With my first two dogs, I felt as though they rescued me. With Penny I can actually say we rescued one another.

Thank you, Mr. Levin, for your book and for the opportunity to share my dog story. May you and your dogs have all the best life has to offer.


Samantha from PA