When I was born, my parents adopted two golden retrievers named Duke and Jesse. 12 years later, Duke suffered a heart attack and passed away. I still remember bawling my eyes out when I saw his lifeless body.

That winter Jesse gave birth to a litter of 5. They were born outside and Jesse hid them in the snow. All but one had died in the cold before we found them and brought them inside. The lone survivor was shaking and trembling in survival mode. We named her Spaz. A few years later, Jesse died of a stroke. And eight years of joy and memories later, Spaz suffered the same fate. Mark, thank you for writing this book. I have bought copies for my grandfather and my aunt as well.

Barry from IL

P.S. – I received a whoopee cushion for Christmas from my big brother.