Tank was my 3rd child in everyway, he just had 4 legs.
Tank was the English Bull Dog I had always wanted, but so much more. He came to us when our 2 chilldren were in high school and were trying ween away from Mom.
I will never be able to explain the bond I had with Tank, I felt like every word I said he understood and it seemed I knew his every thought.
One day I came home from Saturday errands and Tank’s eyes were darting from side to side and he had a hard time standing. We rushed him to emergency vet and then to our Vet on Monday. through test he learned that whatever happened caused my baby to go deaf in his right ear. The doctor & I both worried he had a brain tumor. We went to Texas A&M for additional test. After 3 days of test they decided to close the deaf ear off to avoid infections and explore what was going on hat a MMR didn’t show.
I dropped him off at 8:00 a.m. and cried & cried because i felt something was so wrong. I will always remember the cute girl taking him from me saying “don’t cry he will be fine.”
I called at 6p.m. and he had gone through the surgery with out problems.
At 1 a.m. I got a call Tank had passed away. No one knew why……. they could not find any reason why he died or even went deaf. No tumor, no blood clot nothing, no reason what so ever! I needed an answer. I just could not understand why he would die for no reason!
I went through severe depression. I knew people thought i was crazy for hurting so bad over losing a dog. It was unexplainable. I still hurt bad when I think of my very special Tank.
I now have Sadie & Katie, also English Bull Dogs and adore them with all my heart, but the bond I had with Tank can never be again.
Mark ,I have been unable to read your Rescuing Sprite due to the depression. Even after 8 years the pain you feel would bring back the memories of the pain I felt.
I know this book has helped so many understand they are not crazy to morn the animals that give us so much unconditional love.
God bless you not only for the love you continue to give Sprite but also your love and devotion for our country.
I pray for you.

Donna from TX

Mr. Levin, I just read your book Rescuing Sprite and used about half a box of kleenex. We have had three wonderful dogs in our life time and every emotion that you mention in your book we encountered. Our last dog was a lab mix and she was wonderful, Roxy was her name and she was two years old. We put her in a kennel for a week-end and she escaped and ended up getting hit by a car with severe head trauma and a broken back, we had to put her to sleep, at the same time my husband was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, he passed away in eight months. I believe that the dog passed away before him so that they could be together in heaven. Thank you for your wonderful book.

Diane from PA

One April Fool’s Day exactly 10 years ago, in the rain a lost dog ran under our car while we were stopped in heavy traffic on a hwy service road in Queens, NY. My friend, Dominick who was driving the car said “I think I just ran over a dog, Iris, please take a look.” I was afraid to look but i was brave and so i did and a little red Pomeranian trotted out from under the car gave me a snooty look and trotted away. we chased her and cornered her in the rain in our suits (we were working at the time on our way to the office) like maniacs because she was little and there was so much traffic and into a Pakistani drug store where she bit my friend Dominick because she was scared. the druggest said “no troulbe i dont want any trouble’ and he gave us a small box and i put on my leather gloves and picked her up and then she bit me. we took her in the car,brought her home and she bit my mother, and to my to our Vet who searched for her owner and for a micro chip- we put up signs, looked in the papers, called the NYPD, the pounds-nobody claimed her. So we kept her and called her Mitzi (i should have called her Bitsy) and that started a legacy of so many dogs in our lives -that there isnt enough time to mention them all in one little story. Everyday she would come to work with us, and she was so nasty, growled and bit us. But we gave her love. . Loving and kind -she beame and would come to work with me. (more…)

At my father’s insistence, I am writing to you. My father is a staunch republican in Texas and listens to your show regularly. When he learned of the passing of my Black Lab (Zeb), who was 13+ years old, he suggested I read your book and to contact you. So here I am.
Like you, I have been an animal lover all my life with dogs at the top of my list. At one point, I thought I wanted to be a Vet. That ended when I was about 8 years old and saw how they checked for worms! ;-) When I was in my early teens, one of my older sister’s came to visit and brought her black lab along. I absolutely fell in love with that dog and said if ever I had the opportunity, I wanted a lab. This dream came true on Thanksgiving of 1994. While I was living in Minnesota, a friend of mine in Texas told me about a friend who had a litter they were selling. I got my LAB! Truly an event to give thanks for. He went thru many trials and tribulations with me, including a separation and divorce from 1998-2000. After that, he became my confidante, my protector, my companion. In 2004, I remarried and moved to California. My new husband loved him almost as much as I. Last month, February 2008, there was an incident at the house that caused Zeb to require emergency surgery. A dear friend, who happens to be a Vet Tech, helped me so much with after-surgery care. He was with her when he made a “run for it” and that was all his heart could take. This happened on the morning of February 14 – yes, Valentine’s day. Her mother is an amazing writer and copyrighted this poem for me and I would like to share it. It reminds me so much of a church song our Lutheran church would sing for Baptisms, “Borning Cry.”
I have also attached a picture.
Thanks for reading.

Sandy from CA (more…)

Mark, I do not have a dog or an animal of any kind at the moment due to the fact that my wife was bitten by a dog when she was young and she still has the nightmares.
It is amazing how you have transformed my heart to feel an urgency to take care for these little creatures since I started listening to your show. I was born and raised in East Africa and currently living in Springfield, Missouri. In my country we are not very attached to animals as one may think but I can never hold my tears back when I hear dog stories on your show.
Mark, thank you…your show is more than a meeting for innocent, intelligent and self reliant people. Please give my special thanks to your family who lets you inform us about the danger we face on a daily basis. Mark your blessings will be given to you in heaven.
Thanks my brother…I love you and you beloved audience.
Albert from MO

Not long after my daughter was born, and being in a wheelchair (birth defect) my wife and I both agreed that she could learn something about responsibility by having a friend who wouldn’t care that her legs didn’t work.
My daughter named her new friend, Pookie, after the Soupy Sales handpuppet, and this little mutt became our friend and protector. I called him, affectionitly Dummy Dog, only because he was so friendly, he would occasionally “crash” into walls and such, by running too fast in the house – but he was no dummie. As out protector, he would bark at anyone who he considered a threat, if they walked pass the house, and if he didn’t know them – but if you were friendly to us, you automatically became his friend.Of all people, his “best” friend was the mailman, who always had a treat for the Pook, and he would pull on his leash and get excited when he saw the postman.
As my daughter was bussed to school, the Pook would wait by the window, getting restless when she was about to come home. He would run on the bus, give any and all of the other kids a kiss, and then run into the house with my daughter.
Our saddest day was when he took a nap, in his favorite place near the radiator in the living room, and when to sleep. I was called home from work, to meet my daughter when she got off the bus, and there she questioned, not only why I was home, but where was Pookie. If you have never heard a person wail, then you have been lucky. With tears on our cheeks and pain in our hearts, we had told our daughter that the Pook was no longer with us. However, we are glad that he didn’t suffer, he was among his family and he was waiting for my own dad when he passed away.
So, it must be true, all good dogs go to heaven, and Pookie is now among friends.

Ed from NJ