In 1973 we came to live here and other house where 2 cats.hump and dumpi
daughter went to israel
mother didi t like cats

humpi choise for us
no way we could its saying.we beat him away
he kept comming

in the begin birds mouse was under mi moms bed
as i can eat mi own food
as long i can stay
after while he understood
he found a new house

he was on mi lap dads lap moms on mi bed
moms bed evry where

in 1982 we went to the U.S
one who supose take care
of him didi t do a good job
short after he hot kidney cancer.we put him to sleep
put it in the backyard

years years later i pray
to mi angel explian about
humpi.short after i see 2 cats on mi bed
one is allways with me
master humpi as soul
i feel a warm body when
i sleep.sometimes as now feel something on mi head
i know its the soul of humpi

Alberto From The Netherlands

Dear Mark, I am so happy you have decided to write about your dog. I am thrilled that you have come to Fresno on KMJ.
Good Luck with your show.
I love your passion, intelligence and fire in your belly.

I lost Sam, my precious Golden Retriever in May. He would have been 13 on Friday, Oct. 26. My husband was physically handicapped and you would think that we had trained the dog to be a service animal the way he tried to help He carried my groceries from the car, emptied the garbage and put the wastebasket back where it belonged, he helped with my laundry, and even helped with changing the toilet paper roll. (Actually, he just let me do the actual changing but liked to play tug-of-war with the empty cardboard roll.)
He even helped my husband remove his shoes and socks and then learned to take off his shirt and underwear.
He was the best dog I ever had and probably will ever have. He liked to help people carry things into the house.
Since I am a piano teacher, my students would give him their musibooks, keys, pocketbooks, even sunglasses…anything that anyone carried, he had to help.

He loved when we had birthdays or celebrated Chanukah or Mother’s Day or Father’s Day so that he could help open the cards, and then would help unwrap the gifts and then put the paper in the wastebasket.

Most of alll, he was the funniest dog and sweetest dog I ever had. He had lots of personality. One day, when a friend came over, and wasn’t carrying anything in his hand, Sam just picked up an empty glass from the coffee table that I had been drinking from. Sam thought he was so clever and had to show off what he had done by walking around and around the coffee table with the glass in his mouth.

Another time, he had “stolen” some nuts and bolts from a footstool that I had stood on to change my airconditioning filter.

I really really miss him.

My husband died a few months after Sam. My husband, Burt, used to keep his medicine bottles on a table beside his hospital bed.
When Burt inadvertently dropped his bottle of meddicine, Sam would hear that sound, from anywhere in the house, and would go under the bed or under the table to pick up the medicine bottle to give to me.

Mind you, he did nothing for “free.” There is no free lunch in America and Sam was a good Libertarian/Republican because he always
“worked for food.”

Thanks for allowing me to share my wonderful stories about Sam.

Sunny From California

I had always had cats and dogs growing up, never birds. I became a bird owner by accident and have not looked back since. It was a cockatiel and what a sweet smart little guy he was. I miss him every day and he died nearly 9 years ago! He would have full blown conversations with me and know how to mimic all the little sounds and creaks in my apartment. I have since aquired a few more ‘tiels and a beautiful African Grey parrot whose intellegence and loving ways never cease to amaze me. She will live to be at least 50 (she’s only 8 right now) and as the years pass she just gets smarter and smarter. I take her out weekly to meet new people and to help educate them on the wonders of God’s creation and how incredible she, and all birds, are. Thank you for letting us share our stories, pets are truely a wonderful blessing!

Andrea From Hawaii

I got Friskie trick or treating when I was a 6th grader.

I grew up in a little town of 1500 people in eastern South Dakota. Anyway, I got the cat from my Grandmother’s next door neighbor. It was a bitter cold night. My Dad said the cat could stay “one night” in the garage. Well the one night turned into nearly 16 years. Then Friskie got cancer. My Mother was not a crier at all. She never cried. But when the vet had to put Friskie to sleep my Mom cried as she held her. I’ve had many pets since then as she died in 1986 or so but I still think of Friskie once in awhile

Carol from South Dakota

THERE is sorrow enough in the natural way

From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie—
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find—it’s your own affair—
But . . . you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!).
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone—wherever it goes—for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve.
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long—

So why in—Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
FOR TINGLING 1993-2006
 

Peter from New York

We got Sherlock as a puppy, and I grew up with him. five years ago my Mom lost her battle to breast cancer, and in our time of grief, Sherlock was like our connection to her. He loved swimming, taking walks, and every person who visited always asked where he was, or how he was doing, he was in our family portraits, part of our family. This July Sherlock was suddenly getting slower and slower rapidly. We tried everything but his disease was too far. We had to say goodbye after only ten years and I think one of the last parts of my mom went with him.

Stephen from CA