A short story about the dog I had growing up. My dog Catcher was a mutt. Half cocker, half beagle. When I came home from my very first day of first grade in 1971, there he was a little ball of fir, rolled up sleeping in his bed on the patio. I was an only child and lived in a neighborhood that didn’t have allot of other children and I instantly had a new best friend. That dog and I grew up together, through grade school, high school and then college. Fast forward to 1986, when I graduated from college and then went off to be an officer in the US Navy. I was fortunate enough to live close enough to my parents home that I could easily visit on weekends when I wasn’t out to sea or on duty. Old Catcher had been though allot in his life, a more than a few mishaps and near misses. His hearing was poor, he had cataracts, and he had started to lose a bit of bladder control and his face had turned from a wonderful brown/black to a stately white.

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Maggie–our 2 yr. old Black Lab and my best buddie. All she asks is my company.

John from VA

I was a volunteer at the ASPCA for 10 years and I have loved animals all my life. This story is about the dog of a friend in the building where I grew up in Manhattan. His name was Churchill (a sheepdog husky mix). I walked Churchill and took care of him often as I did for a few of the animals in the building, but what was different about Chuchill (other than that he was the only dog I cared for) was that he always showed me great affection whenever I would come to see him. Also Churchill, like his human, Dana, was ill a lot. Also there was just the two of them. Chuchill was Dana’s whole family. She rescued him from a shady situation in which he ended up getting abandoned when he was young. He had a way of greeting me that Dana said he greeted me in a way that was different than how he greeted any one else; he would stick his nose rirght in between my legs. I wasn’t crazy about this greeting but I figured since this is how dogs greet eachother I took it as a compliment. He was a very large and very loving dog. He got along very well with pretty much all animals and all people; all of the doormen in the building loved to pet him as much as he loved being petted. I love Churchill too; he died several years ago and I still miss him. At the end of his life he got very sick and was in the hospital. They were very nice there and let Dana spend Chuchill’s last night by his side. He was a very special dog.

Lauren From NY

On April 9, 2007, my 11 year old black & tan dachshund Mac died. He was my rescue dachshund who entered my life in 1996. Mac was a joyful dog who lived life at double speed. He loved to chase birds, bark at squirrels, drink my lattes, his daddy and me. When my husband would take him for a walk, we called him “Westminster Mac” because he would practically prance through the neighborhood, just like those AKC dogs at Westminster. If a dog could smile while going for a walk, it was Mac. Mac died suddenly on Easter Monday of a coronary embolism – he died at home with both his mommy and daddy by his side. The hole that he has left in our lives is huge, and the memories we have of our feisty little dog keep us laughing. If you can rescue a dog, please do it. They are wonderful companions and are so grateful to have humans to call their own.

Theresa from MD

Yes, Tom was a cat, but he thought he was a big dog. Whenever he heard us start the Gator to go to the pasture, he would jump on the hood or ride shotgun. He knew no fear. We had seen him face down a bobcat and then a coyote that dared to trespass on ‘his’ property. He turned up one day after we had moved back to the country to care for my Dad in his last days. Someone had obviously invested some money in Tom, he was declawed on the front and had been neutered, but he didn’t act like it. When a tiny yowling boy kitten showed up, Tom became his guardian. Yowler stuck to Tom like glue sleeping against him on even the hottest of days, and Tom tolerated it. They played and rolled in the driveway dirt every afternoon, with Tom putting his ‘ninja kitty’ moves on Yowler, then chasing each other across the yard. In September, we left the boys sleeping on the front porch for a couple of hours.

When we got back, we found Tom mortally wounded in the back yard. Yowler emerged from the garage/shop a few hours later very nervous and shaken. From the evidence, it appears that a group of dogs came through the property and approached the cats. Tom got between them and Yowler giving him time to get to safety, but putting himself in danger. We have since discovered that Yowler is very hard of hearing and that Tom was probably his ‘hearing’ cat. The dogs came back through the next day at the same time and have since been seen by several neighbors. Four big dogs running together here in the country can cause a problem. Yowler has since moved into the house most of the day, only going outside when someone is with him. Tom was an independent cat, but very loving. I got my annual dose of poison oak from carrying him around every year! We had to shut him on the screened porch when we walked in the morning, or he would have followed us every step of the way. We choose not to have dogs because we like watching the wildlife and sometimes dogs can get in trouble (like porcupines & skunks!). Tom was more like a dog than most dogs, and we miss him terribly every single day. There will never be another one like him.

Tom from Texas

Cockapoo named Susie. She was six weeks old when she came to live with me. We were you might say”joined at the hip” for fifteen wonderful years. She was diagnosed in 2000 with a malignant tumor in her gums which was inoperable. I asked the Vet if I could wait until after the weekend to bring her back and he said “yes”. Needless to say, she had quite a weekend, home cooked rice and breast of chicken, all the ice cream she wanted and held and loved for two days. I stayed with her and held her until she was gone. It is now 2007 and I can’t talk about her without getting tears. However, there is a bright side to this story. Five years ago I acquired a Bichon Frise and named her Simone. She is now my new love of my life but my Susie will never be replaced. I am looking forward to reading your book and I tell you in advance I know how you feel losing your Sprite. I have walked in your shoes. God Bless.

Jean from Texas