On a hot summer day in ’94 I saw a strange animal running around in the woods behind my house. After some inspecting with the binoculars we figured out it was a little dog. We put a turkey trail outside that lead into the house and it worked like a charm. I was 18 years old. I am now 32 and on April 20th I had to put my Weasel to sleep. In those 14 years she stole my heart, along with everyone else’s that she ever came across.

My mom gave me your book a few months before she died and I read it crying along with all of your other readers/listeners. Thank you for sharing your story and for making me feel… well, not so alone.

I have been wanting to write this since the day she passed away, and I still can’t bring myself to say too much. I miss her tremendously everyday. I wear a necklace that has a little of her ashes in it, the front is inscribed with a W and the back says “Forever in my heart”.

We still have her “sister” her name is Val (Valentine) and she is a wonderful girl from a rescue, I am luckier than you Mark and she was advertised as a “Senior Dog” and she turned out to be a little younger :) And now she has a pesky little brother named Tank. Weasel was a chunky little dog and I affectionally called her my “Tank with Peg Legs” all the time. When my husband and I adopted a scruffy little 10# boy to help bring Val out of the funk of losing her sister we decided it was appropriate to name him after Weasel’s nick name.

My heart is still broken, I still cry all the time. But I am learning to live life without my Weasel.

Thanks for all of the posts from others… it helps!!

Liz from MN