I know how hard this must have been for you and your family to have to let go of Sprite. My husband and I also had to make the difficult decision to put our girl, Kia, down, on December 9, 2006 due to cancer. She was 12 1/2 years old. Kia was a beautiful Rottweiler. She was a sweet and happy dog and lived each day to the fullest with her number one priority to make us happy. Although it has been some time since that day, the pain is still there. We think of her every day, but always remind ourselves how blessed we were to have her in our lives. Thank you so much for sharing your story and writing such a heartfelt and touching book! I enjoyed reading it and it was reminder to all of us how dogs enrich and touch our lives. God bless.

Joyce from CA

Dear Mark,
My name is Amanda Haley and I am 10 years old. My daddy listens to your show all the time, and he is going to order me a copy of your book about Your dog Sprite. I hope to meet you some day and have you sign the book. I wanted to send you something my dad has in a frame under the picture of our two dogs that I grew up with when I was little. Their names were Luke and Sheena and I loved them very very much. So here is the thing I wanted to send you, and I hope you enjoy it as much as my daddy does.

TRIBUTE TO A DOG
The fallowing is taken from a speech made by former Senater George Graham Vest of Missouri. It was delivered in 1870 when he was acting as a lawyer in a suit against a man who had killed the dog of his client. After the jury listened to Vest’s impassioned speech, his client received damages of $150.
The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog.
A man’s dog stands by him in poverty, in health and sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master’s side. He will lick the sores and wounds that com in encounter with the roughness of the world. He gaurds the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince.
When all other friends desert, he remains . When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is a constant in his love as the sun in it’s journey through the heavens.
If misfortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to gaurd against danger, to fight against his enemies.
And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in it’s embrace, and his body laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eye sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true, even in death.

Auther unknown

Amanda from MN

On Feb.11 2008 I had to take my 9 year old Brindle Boxer to our vet to have her put down. This was after taking her to a Los Angles vet and discovering that She had cancer of the pelvic and was uncurable> I held her when the vet gave her the shot and it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. This is not much of a story. Im sure it is quite common but we have had Princess for nine years and our house is empty without her. All I have to do now is wait for the Rainbow Bridge to happen.

Philip from CA

Mark, My sister-in-law sent me your book, ‘Rescuing Sprite” as she knows what a dog lover I am. I am sorry to say that I haven’t read it yet as I cannot bring myself to pick it up. On January 2nd, I had to have my wonderful little Bonnie Blue put to sleep. She was a part of our family for 18 years abd 4 months. She was my constant companion and confidant for the last 17 years since my wife passed away. Her love and affection was one of the reasons that I was able to get thru those terrible days when the sense of loss and loneliness was almost overwhelming. My youngest daughter has been a veterinary technician for 17 years and the vet she works for let her bring the solutions home so we could put her to sleep in familiar surroundings. I held her tightly while my other two daughters each held one of her paws. We told her how much we loved her and I told her how much she had meant to me over the years. Noelle injected the solution and she slipped quietly away, very gently and peacefully to began her jurney to the Rainbow Bridge to meet her mistress who I am sure was waiting for her. I believe she knew it was time to leave us because she had had many health problems the last year and was just very old and tired. She was a wonderful, sweet little puppy that was friends with everyone in the neighborhood. I miss her very much.
Someday soon I will read the book. I promise.

Art from TX

Murray was not a shelter dog, but he was rescued. We were directed to him, by a Sheltie rescue organization in California. At the time we lived in New Jersey. The caller asked us if we knew were Bridgewater NJ was. It so happened it was right up the road. We found Murray tied to a tree. He was the leftover of a marriage gone south. The women said “just take him” he’s good for nothing. She had two kids; I always wondered what she did with them. For the 1st year Murray was a handful, he was a runner. If you left a door ajar, he was gone. A few times he got out and we needed to scour the neighborhood for him. One day it dawned on him and he finally realized he had a forever home. He was great, we loved him. Memorial Day weekend 1999. I discovered his lymph nodes were enlarged. Took him to the Oncology Vet and was told he had Lymphoma, stage 3. She explained our options but was not overly hopeful. Murray was put on Chemo. He accepted it like a champ and the Chemo worked. His cancer went into remission. There is no cure for Lymphoma, your just buying time, in an unknown quantity. During this time marching band season started. We worked with one high school marching band, with their music and marching. We discovered Murray had found his calling on earth. Murray insisted on going to the practices. Without any direction from us he started working with the kids, keeping them in their lines. He lived for these rehearsals. He was so energetic and alive. This went on 3 months. Literally right after the season ended, his cancer returned. We knew chemo was not an option. We could only make him comfortable. Enter “Jake” another rescued Sheltie; actually Murray had picked him out of a shelter we visited one day. I firmly believe each dog has a calling on earth.
Jake’s is caregiver. When Murray was having a bad day I’d find Jake “spooned” around his brother, trying to comfort and take away his pain. One cold January morning I came down stairs, Murray was not about. I checked his bed. Our eyes met and he said it’s time. We took him to our vet. Holding him our arms the serum was administered and we let him pass over the rainbow bridge to be with the ones who have gone before him. Our vet allowed us to take Murray home. We took him home, laid him out on our living room floor. Why you wonder. Well we had/have other shelties. Dogs are pack animals, they know when one is missing and need closure, just as we do. The others we had at the time circled around Murray, sniffed and sat there. After awhile they left. They needed to say goodbye as well.
Another thing to keep in mind for each dog that enters your life which you share and then passes. They have a big influence on the next one you’re directed too. Just because your beloved has passed doesn’t mean you stop. At the right time another will enter your life filling it with more joy. Be open to your heart and the memories of your “best” friend.

Mik in Las Vegas

Received a call yesterday from my heartbroken sister in Fort Myers, FL. She had just left the vet’s office where she had made that decision we all so desperately dread, to allow her beloved German Shepard’s soul to pass on to the Rainbow Bridge. Cancer took him viciously and quickly with barely a moment’s warning other than a small bite on his leg that refused to heal. Helplessly, I struggled for something to say, but there are just no words adequate to ease the pain of losing a pet. Then I thought of Mark’s book. I haven’t read it yet, but after hearing him speak of losing Sprite and listening to the callers thank him day after day for writing the book, I knew I’d found something that might help ease her pain. I’ll be mailing her a copy tomorrow.

Nancy from NV