Tonight has been a very enlightening one for me. I’m sitting in my room, cuddled up on the bed and reading “Rescuing Sprite” for the second time. I’ve just gotten past chapter eleven, and my eyes are running like a pair of leaky faucets. My heart is breaking for you Mr. Levin and for your family. My heart also breaks for my own dog, Bailey Ann, my Golden Retriever who has recently just turned eleven. As I finish this chapter, I look over at her while she sleeps peacefully on the floor, all sprawled out and looking happy and content. And then I tried to imagine my life without her and having to make a tough decision like you and your family had to Mr. Levin. I promptly burst into tears. Bailey is my baby. I am only twenty, so I have no children. My dog is my child. She has multiple nicknames, among them Puppy, Puppy-Boo, Baby, and my Golden Girl. I take her for rides in the car everytime I leave the house because she loves to stick her head out the car window. I share my icecream cones with her and dont care when people give me strange looks. I take her to the river where she can swim and splash in the water. Wherever I go, Bailey is right there with me. I cry every time I leave for college because I have to leave her at home. She is my shining star.
Bailey Ann has recently been diagnosed with cancer, which is common among Goldens or so I’ve been told. At first, we were told they were fatty tumors, nothing to be concerned about. We took her to the vet a few more times after this as more and more of them began popping up, and each time we were told they were fatty tumors. This changed however, when one of these tumors burst open and began oozing and bleeding, as well as giving off a very foul odor. We took her back to the vet and were told that it was a cyst and would clear right up with some anti biotics. Several months later, the anti bitotics hadnt changed anything. We decided to take Bailey to a different vet, who told us we should have the oozing lump surgically removed. Just a few weeks ago, Bailey had her surgery and I was very thankful that it went smoothly (I was at college at the time of the surgery and I was a wreck the entire day until my Mother called and told me she was ok). However, the diagnosis was not good, and it broke my heart. As of now, Bailey is not in any pain and she still thinks she is a puppy, jumping around, chasing my other dog Latte in the front yard and occasionally getting into the garbage. However, I know that this can make Bailey’s time here with my family and I quite a bit shorter than we expect, and just the thought of it brings tears to my eyes. Bailey’s age is also beginning to show. Her personality is the same, but her body has begun to shrink and the fur on her paws, around her eyes and on her muzzle has begun to turn white.
When I realized Bailey’s time with us could be alot shorter than we were hoping, I decided to start a scrap book with all the photos of my pooch. I was distraught and horrified to find that I only had a small stack of photographs to put in the album. When we got Bailey, I had just turned eight and it rarely crossed my mind to take pictures of my pup. I am now regretting it.
However, I decided that rather than just settle with the few photos I had, that now was just as good a time as any to record the memory of my pooch. And I began to photograph Bailey every chance I got. I then decided to take it one step further. I started a Pet Photography Business in honor of my pup, called Brooklynn Photography Pawtraits. I created the business for people who love their pets as much as I do, and so they wouldn’t have to feel that anguish and sorrow I had felt when realizing I had almost no pictures of my beloved Bailey Ann. She is now the mascot of Brooklynn Photography Pawtraits, and my most patient and beautiful camera model. I am happy to say that I have many more photos that I can put into my scrap book that I have dedicated entirely to her.
As I read on from chapter eleven to chapter twelve, a certain sentence caught my attention. It said “I have thought about writing a book about him, but nobody will care.” This struck me because I too have been thinking about writing a book about my Bailey. And I too thought the same thing. But people do care. I care very much about your Spritey, Mr. Levin. He left a very strong and touching legacy with you, your family and friends, and with everyone who has read your book and anyone who is a dog lover.
I mentioned to my Mother that I wanted to write a book about Bailey, and she asked me “What is so special about her?” She didnt ask in a mocking way, but a generally curious and interested manner. She wanted to know what I saw in my Bailey. I answered without hesitation “everything.” The same goes for your Sprite and Pepsi and Griffen, Mr. Levin. Every dog is special in their own way, but they all bring the same love, joy, and eventually, heart break, that makes every pup very special.
I am so very sorry for the loss you and your family had to suffer. I am dreading the day when my Bailey Ann moves on too. But I will take comfort in the thought that she will have a companion when she gets to Doggy Heaven, your Spritey.
Bailey is now snoring next me and twitching her paws. She is dreaming about chasing something, perhaps a squirrel, or she is running in a wide open field, or maybe she is even swimming. She brings a smile to my face, even as tears pour from my eyes while I write this.
Nothing brings joy like the love and companionship of a dog. Something you and I, as well as every dog lover out there, knows and will forever hold in our hearts.
I send the best of wishes to you and your Family, Mr.Levin, including Pepsi and Griffen, as well as all the dog lovers out there and to everyone who is a part of this amazing and wonderful Pet Corner. Bailey Ann sends her regards too! :)

— Brooke from Malone, NY

I just finished reading your families story about the love and care you had for Pepsi and Sprite. What a beautiful story!

Charlie came into our life 7 years ago this August. She’s our first family dog, and she has completely changed our lives. We’re always together with her, and take her everywhere we go. We love Charlie like she’s one of our own children.

Like you, I work at home, so Charlie is always by my side. My constant companion who makes each of my days brighter just by seeing her beautiful face. I love her so much.

Recently, I’ve come to realize that Charlie won’t be with us for very long. The past 7 years have gone by quickly, and the next 7 will go by even faster I’m sure. Unlike our children, who we expect to live well past our own, our dog kids won’t. That’s something really hard to accept. We didn’t think like this when we first got Charlie, but we also never realized how attached we would all become to her.

Your story brought into clear focus the reality of this situation. It’s unfortunate, but it is what it is.

Your book helped to me to realize a few things. Enjoy the precious moments we share together with Charlie each day. And, even though she’s 7, it’s not too late to get her a friend like Sprite was to Pepsi. Finally, I realize I will have many of my own Griffens in life after Charlie. As hard as it can be imaginable, I know I will love again, but I also know I will never never never forget my Charlie.

— Mark from Huntington, NY

I had to have my dog put down on February 4th. He would have been 14 the 17th of this month. I had him since he was a pup. It was our hope that he would make it to his birthday, but that was not to be.

Boomer was a Papillon on the larger end of the scale, he was about 21 lbs. I started noticing accidents on our kitchen floor and blamed it on our Sheltie. But one day, Boomer was standing their looking at me and just let go. I attributed it to old age and incontinence. However, shortly after this incident I noticed blood in his urine so I figured he had an UTI. I made an appointment with the vet for the next day. That morning, I got up and Boom was lying in a puddle of urine and I could not get him to move in order to clean him up. I waited for my husband to get home (he works third shift) and we took him to the vet. This was in July of 2010. They found a very large stomach tumor and another on his bladder. I could not understand how he could have such a large tumor without us knowing about it. He had just had his physical in April! Due to his age, the Vet did not feel he would survive any type of surgery so we, like you, once it was confirmed he was not suffering, put him on antibiotics and prednisone and cherished what time we hoped we would have left with him.

Like you, I have had many pets but I have never had to make the decision to end their life. It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. . . perhaps even the hardest, but like the Vet told us, we would know when it was time, and we did. We probably ‘ignored’ the signs for about a week and I finally told my husband we were being selfish making him hold on for our account. He had stopped eating, was drinking very little, could hardly stand up without assistance, and I could see in his eyes he was ready to say goodbye.

I picked up the phone to call the vet, but I couldn’t do it. I had to have my husband do it. Afterwards, he went in the bathroom and wept. This was a horrible week for us, my husband’s grandmother had passed away the previous Saturday from a very short, unexpected illness (went into the hospital on Sunday, died the following Saturday). The date was scheduled for the next day. I spent all day with Boom – – I cried all day, as I am doing now. My husband went out for a bit and came back with two McDonald’s hamburgers for Boom – – which, because Dad was feeding him, Boom managed to get down a couple of bite. I cried uncontrollably – – this was to be his last super!

My husband and I had decided that we could not go in with Boom when he was put to sleep. Once we got there, I said to my husband, “I’m staying with him.” I just knew that I could not let him do that alone. I wanted the last touch he felt and voice he heard to be from his Mommy. God it was so hard and I think about it every time I close my eyes. I miss my baby terribly.

Reading your book, I knew first hand everything you had gone through and my heart bled for you. Your Sprite was put to sleep on my birthday. I will think of him fondly and say a prayer for him and your family on each of my birthdays to come.

I was just today able to put Boom’s picture in the spot provided for same on his urn. He stays in the kitchen, where he loved to hang out with Daddy. He was the smartest dog I ever owned and he had such personality. I don’t think he knew he was a dog! He would actually have a conversation with you and he knew how to play Mommy in ways to get what he wanted.

On December 28, 2010 we lost one of our beloved chocolate labs, Hamilton. He was 13 1/2 years old. He fell one day going out the door and broke his leg in such a way that the vet could not fix it. We had to make the painful decision to put him to sleep that day. It was one of the hardest decisions we ever had to make and we cried for hours before, during and after. We had him cremated and have his ashes in a special spot at home and maybe some day we will spread them on our property on one of his favorite spots, but not just yet. We are not quite ready for that.
Hamilton had a buddy named Abigail, another chocolate lab, who is almost 11 years old now. She missed her buddy very much and was very lethargic and sad looking. We decided we would eventually get another dog, and had a few offers from people who wanted us to take their dog for them, (not labs) but it just didn’t feel right. We also put feelers out to our local SPCA where we had originally gotten Abigail, to let us know if and when they got a lab there, and lo and behold, they called us to tell us that they had a pure blooded chocolate lab puppy. They thought he was between 7 and 10 months old. We went to visit him and he was just beautiful and very energetic. He didn’t pay any attention to us at all, but we were pretty sure we would take him. We took Abigail into meet him and she didn’t exactly jump for joy, but also didn’t completely reject him, so we made the decision to adopt him.
This was one of the best decisions we could make. He is just absolutely the greatest. He is very smart and we only had to leave him in his crate for one night and since them he has only been in the crate for a hour or so when we left them at home for a couple of hours. He and Abigail travel with us every day in our work. We have jobs that allows us to each take one of the dogs with us during the day and have both of them with us at the office at night. (we own the business and building so we can have them with us). Riley (the name we gave him) and Abigail are inseparable now. Riley doesn’t like her out of his sight or his new parents either. We live in the country and have many acres and he is just in heaven when he can be outside and just run to his heart’s content and chase his frisbie. I have attached a picture of Riley and Abigail in the back seat of our SUV where they were taking a nap, and as you can see, he likes to be very close to her. Though we miss Hamilton daily, this little fellow is filling the gap he left when we had to put him to sleep. He even reminds us of Hamilton as he has many of his traits. We hope we have him many years and that we have Abigail for as many years as is possible, too.

— Linda from Jersey Shore, PA

Some years ago, I came across a West Highland White Terrier at the local pound I had just lost my little poodle of 14 years and was heartbroken. The pound was desperate to find a home for the dog, who I later named “Pepper”, as he had stayed the maximum time at the pound and was due to be put to sleep. It seemed no one wanted Pepper. His owner had to go to a nursing home,could not take care of Pepper, and he had developed skin issues, now cleared up. Pepper was an older dog, about 7 years. The owner’s children did not want the dog and sent him to the pound. When I went to see Pepper, I asked the attendant if he could open the cage for me, and Pepper immediately leaped into my arms—I knew that I just had to have him.
I adopted Pepper that day and he was a wonderful dog. I made some inquiries to try to find his former owner to let him know that I had his dog and loved him, but I was not successful.
I had my Pepper for some 4 years, until one night he had an unexpected seizure. I knew he was gone, but rushed him to the vet anyway, but he was gone. No one wanted him, but I did and I am a better person for having had him in my life.

— Steven from Decatur, GA

About the last part of ’98, my wife was on a business trip to Va. She called & said she was bringing home a surprise, well I instantly thought I was getting a new tool for the shop.
I WAS surprised when she came home with a pup. He is a blonde Pomeranian, & was in need of a good cleaning. He looked dirty & scruffy, hence the name Scruffy became his. Originally, she had planned on Scruffy being her pet, and going on trips with her, but it didn’t turn out that way. I would lay down on the floor, and play with him for hours. We would go on walks, and needless to say, he bonded with me more than the wife.
Wasn’t a problem, he was never shorted any attention. Skip to the future.. In 2005, we met a couple with a red female Pom, & we decided to breed the 2. Everything went fine, they had 3 beautiful puppies, and life was grand. About a month or so after everything settled down, we got a phone call 1 night, asking us to baby sit the red Pom, her name was Shelby. Was just gonna be 2 weeks at the most, he was getting out of the Air Force, & they had commissioned a house to be built outside of Denver, Co. So, we said no problem, we’d be glad to baby sit Shelby. So we went to their house and picked her up, along with various toys and things that would be a comfort to her if it was needed. So here we are with Shelby, & Scruffy together for 2 weeks. I practically regressed back to a kid, playing with them and running with them in our back yard. We took them to a couple of parks, and had long walks in the woods and picnics on the grass. I really was dreading the day she would go back to her home, and we would never see her again, but the wife kept reminding me, we’re just the babysitters.
Well….2 weeks turned into 4 weeks, turned into 2 months, turned into 4 months, turned into 11 months. No word, no checking up phone calls, no letters, email, carrier pigeon, NOTHING. I had by this time, considered the dog abandoned, and was of the mind she was now ours. So, it was 3 weeks into the 11th month of silence, when they called, wanting me to bring Shelby back to them. As I laughed into the phone, I explained to him that 1 month of not showing any care about the dog constituted abandonment, and I could not, in good conscience give her back.
Well, in the end, they relented, & said I had a point, they just got busy, and forgot about her. DUH !! How could anyone forget about such a precious dog as Shelby? She was loving to everyone, and got along great with our Scruffy, she loved kids and getting attention. I could not imagine a day without my dogs. They are a constant companion to me, they are a marvelous stress reliever, and a preventative measure against high blood pressure.. I love my dogs without measure.
Now it’s gonna get rough. Last year, Shelby started coughing once in awhile, enough to cause concern, so we took her to our vet, and after extensive blood tests, and lab exams, we were told that she had something called collapsing trachea. It’s a common ailment in smaller breed dogs, & there’s only 2 ways to treat it. With oral meds, or surgery, which is not highly recommended, as it has no guarantee of success. So we had to go with the oral meds. For awhile they seemed to work great, she really improved, and seemed to be getting better. But last month it got worse, much worse. She would go into a coughing spell, and started getting a panicked look in her eyes. Our vet was on speed dial, so she advised I bring her in, late at night though it was, and she would see if she could help her. This whole time, the wife and I are totally distraught, me even more so. Our vet gave her a steroid shot, and it had a calming effect on her, so we brought her home. We always let our dogs sleep in our bed, but Shelby took a little more priority now. I spent alot of my time lieing in bed with Shelby, watching t.v., talking to her, putting my face on the bed beside hers, and just telling her I loved her, and she was a great dog.
Both me and the wife knew what was coming, and niether of us wanted to speak of it, but we knew it would be wrong to keep prolonging her suffering. The last 2 days I spent being extremely attentive to Shelby, trying to see that she was calm and relaxed at al times. The meds were working some, but not nearly to the level we thought they should be. The morning of, we took pictures of Shelby, with me holding her, the wife holding her, and with me lieing on the floor with her. I still, cannot bear to look at these photos, they cause me so much grief. At the vet’s, I took Shelby outside and walked with her in the grass telling her I was so sorry, I had failed to take proper care of her, and I really wished I had the money to try anything else to save her. When the vet told us to come on into the room, they already had a pad laid out on the table, and that was all it took to destroy my demeanor. I leaned over the table with Shelby in my arms, and wept, unashamedly, like a child, like my soul was being ripped out of me. I pleaded with the vet, and my wife, to let’s try anything else, anything but this. But I knew, this was the only answer. I was in such a state of agony that I asked the vet to give me the same shot, I felt like I was killing a child of mine.
After she inserted the needle that would take my little angel away, I got in front of Shelby and tried to tell her how much I loved her, and to please forgive me. You have to understand, this was ripping my heart out. I held my Shelby to my chest, as the medicine slowly took her away from me. I think it took about 2 minutes. After it was done, they asked if I wanted a box to put her in to take home, and I refused, I said I would carry her home in my arms. I spent the next 4 hours in my shop crad=fting her the best resting box I could imagine, I’m a self employed woodworker, so I had a couple options in my head. I used some of the best imported wood I had, I wanted this to be special for her. We clipped some of her hair, so I can put it in a memory locket to wear around my neck. We buried her in the back yard, in my wife’s flower garden, and ordered a pink dogwood to plant at the top of her spot. I’ve drawn up plans for a granite stone to be made for her, and am in the process of building a couple of benches to sit in the garden and just remember.
Since we lost her, I’ve been in constant agony, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I’ve become anti-social, I just want my Shelby back. At the least mention of her, or a glance at her photo, is an immediate flood of tears, & self doubt. I’ve felt like a dirt bag for what I had to do, knowing it was unavoidable. You may ask why I get so emotional about my dogs, well, it’s because I have no children of my own, and I’ve always considered my dogs to be family, not pets, family. I found your website after my wife bought me your book, Rescuing Sprite, and I found it to be a wonderful, masterpiece of literature. I laughed at some of the story, and cried, uncontrollably, when I got to the part about Sprite’s death. So I do feel like you understand where I’m coming from, having been through this tragedy yourself. I still have my Scruffy, he’s about 12 years old now, and I try really hard not to think about the end for him. The next time I lose a dog, I might not fair so well. The Dr.’s say I do not need alot of stress, I was diagnosed with congestive heart failure last year, and had to have triple bypass surgery. So, my lifestyle has been cut back some, but as long as I have my dogs, I am content.
I’m sorry I took so long to get this all typed out, it was nothing short of torturous & agonixing, but I felt I had to post on your web page, and tell my Shelby’s story. I hope Shelby is happy now, and running around with a couple of our friend’s pets that have gone on before her, and maybe, just maybe, she might find Sprite, and they can enjoy their new pain free life.

— Dan from Huber Heights, OH