Hey Yo Mark – two Philly Girls here. One of us is a Temple alum. Here is our story.

The day after my husband died in August of 2004 my sister was driving me to the
cemetery a few miles from my home to buy a plot. As we entered the next town
over, the street was blocked due to road construction. We took the detour down a
side street and that’s when my sister spotted her. A red haired dog with her teats
dragging on the ground. As she ran across the street, we thought for sure that the
dump truck in front of us was going to hit her. Fortunately she was fast enough
and what we thought was certain to happen didn’t. With great relief we spotted
her on the other side of the road.

My sister stopped the car. As I go out, I remembered I had some Milk Bones
in my pocket to give to my two Great Dane boys when I returned home. When
she saw me, she came over and laid down on the ground. I offered her a biscuit
and she devoured it ravenously. As I bent down and started talking to her she
laid on her back. I started to rub her belly. I then noticed her right hind leg was
broken. She had ticks and fleas and mange. There were marks on her that made
it obvious that she had been used for fighting. She was also bleeding. By this time
my sister had gotten a blanket from the trunk. We wrapped her in the blanket
which she seemed to enjoy. When I picked her up to put her in the car she
started licking my face. That was the start of our love affair that continues to
this day.

Of course she had no collar and no microchip. Even if I had found out who her
owner was she would not have been returned. I would have looked into having
them prosecuted for animal cruelty. We took her to the vet to be treated. The
vet thought she might have cancer. She weighted only 29 pounds when she
should have been between 60 and 65 pounds. She was just malnourished –
no cancer. The vet was certain that the puppies she had 6 to 8 hours prior
to us finding her could not have survived due to her malnutrition. He thought
she was about a year old and got pregnant during her first heat. She was
most probably being used as a puppy mill. She was too smart for whoever
had done this to her and escaped. The vet told us she was mostly pit bull
with maybe some shepherd in the mix and she had definitely been used for
dog fighting. Lots of fur was missing on her head and she had some nasty
looking neck wounds. She also had cigarette burns. Despite all this, she
had a very sweet disposition. Everyone in the veterinary office fell in love
with her.

We boarded her at the vet until my husband’s funeral was over. She
was in need of a lot of TLC and the vet techs brought her toys and
treats as they cared for her injuries. When it was time for her to go
outside to do her business she didn’t want to go. She was happy to
be indoors. In her previous situation, she probably wasn’t allowed
inside. I brought her toys with my dogs’ scent on them. I brought my
boys toys with her scent on them. I took the Danes to visit her every
evening. They checked out each other through the fence in the outdoor
dog runs. They all seemed genuinely happy to be together.

She stayed at the vet from Tuesday when found her until Sunday – the
day after the funeral when everyone from out of town had gone home.
While she was at the vet I visited her twice a day. I even cooked for
her. She was eating anything and everything in sight. On Sunday
afternoon I brought her home. My Dane boys were delighted to see
her and she them. The boys somehow knew to be gentile with her.
Her leg was in a cast, but she was eager to explore her new surroundings.
She was intrepid going up and down the stairs and did not let anything
stand in her way.

When the vet asked me her name to write it on the chart, I said I didn’t know
what to call her. Then I thought about my husband. His name was Thomas.
I wanted to name her after him. My husband had a neuro muscular disease.
My days were spent caring for him. The last five years of his life he slowly
degenerated. Taking care of him became my sole focus. He required an IV
medication every 3 to 4 hours. Our sleep cycle revolved around administering
his medicine. Thomas was gone, but I felt he had somehow brought this
sweet little girl dog and me together. She need care and I need someone
to care for. I named her Tommy Girl in memory of my Thomas. (She was
not named for the Tommy Hilfiger perfume that I didn’t even know existed
at the time I named her.) Tommy Girl has become a much loved member
of my family.

Tommy Girl, I love you and I know you love me. Thank you for bringing
sunshine into my life at a time of great grief. My friends and family say
I rescued you, but I know it was you who rescued me. Thank You My
Sweet Girlfriend – Thank You.

Thank you Mark for Rescuing Sprite. I read it aloud to Tommy and the Danes.
They listened with interest. I think they liked it. Thank you too, for Men
in Black and for Liberty and Tyranny. I have bought numerous copies of the
latter and given them to students, friends, and family. I even gave one to my
liberal, ‘Milhouse can do no wrong’ brother-in-law for his birthday. My sister
says she going to make him read it. I hope so. It should enlighten him
greatly. THANK YOU Mr. Levin.

Lin from PA