I am a Chief Petty Officer in the United States Coast Guard. Shortly after my wife Jenny and I were married I found out I was to be deployed to Kodiak, AK for two years aboard the USCGC Munro. At the time my wife and I were to be billeted in Government housing in Alameda, CA. The house we were placed in gave us enough space to have a dog, and since I am a firm believer that every home should have a dog, we went hunting shortly after we moved in.

Jenny and I went to Berkley, to the Milo Foundation. This is the only tie I have to Berkley, and thankful I am for it, but it is the most wonderful tie I can think of. As is the case with many pet rescue stories, Dim Sum picked Jenny and I. We had every intention of picking out a Husky, Samoyed or Malamute, but this gorgeous, loving American Eskimo dug her way into our hearts.

After two months of living with us Dim Sum was very much a part of the family. All dogs have their own personality, and it was clear that Dim Sum was to be the protector I couldn’t be while deployed. Two months into my tour my Cutter took me away on patrol. I was worried that Dim Sum wouldn’t remember who I was and be overly protective when I walked through the door at the end of my three months away. We were so happy to find out not only did Dim Sum not forget who I was, but she missed me very much! It was then that I knew that the decision Jenny and I had made to allow my deployment to Kodiak be a Geographic Bachelor deployment (I go alone, leaving my family behind for two years) would not leave my wife alone to fend for herself.

Seven months later I moved to Kodiak alone. It was a tearful departure for both of us, and it was clear Dim Sum understood what was happening. The strain on my marriage would be born by both these wonderful ladies in my life, and the guilt I felt at leaving, regardless of the duty, was a very heavy burden.

After five months apart I found myself in Honolulu, HI for training with the Cutter. Jenny took the opportunity of my being in one place for a month and a half to come visit me for a week and a half. Her visit was therapeutic, but also necessary, as our marriage was starting to fall apart due to the distance. It became clear that despite the company Dim Sum provided the distance was too much to bear. We decided to move everyone up to Kodiak for the remaining 18 months of my tour beginning in February of 2008. That brought to light the very complex process of moving a pet to an overseas location. Yes, I know Alaska is part of the United States, but the locality is considered an Overseas billet for the purposes of administration because of the strain on the local infrastructure moving whole families into the area presents. In most cases Overseas localities can’t bear the load, so the family must go through a very in-depth screening process to be cleared for the move. The pet moving side of this equation isn’t part of the screening process for the military, and the battery of health tests and quarantines that Dim Sum had to go through, along with the flight was very dramatic. Not only that, but once we made the trip to Kodiak we were forced to live in a hotel room for 30 days due to the lack of an immediate housing opening for our family. Dim Sum, being the trooper that she is, took all of this with incredible grace.

Eighteen months, three 3 month patrols, a four and a half month patrol, an Easter blizzard and Kodiak Brown Bear incursion into the greenbelt behind our house passed while we lived in Kodiak. My being away for 13 of the 18 months we lived in Kodiak didn’t help much when it came to salving my marriages wounds, but Dim Sum made sure Jenny was well taken care of. I owe so much to this darling dog. Her place in our lives was cemented, and it would have taken a Master Stonemason to pull us all apart.

2009 rolls around and we finally get orders to Alameda again; this time a shore billet. We rejoice at the fact that I’m going to be home so much more often, and start our planning for our trip down the ALCAN Highway, a drive totaling over 3600 miles. The trip started with a ferry ride from Kodiak to Homer, AK. Being a sailor I know rough seas, and having been on a catamaran with Jenny in some pretty rough waters while on vacation in Hawaii, I knew we both were going to be able to handle the seas we knew we were going to see on the ferry ride. I was very pleased to see that Dim Sum was a sailor’s dog through and through. not once did she get sick, or lose her footing during the roughest of the passage. Once again she had proven she was a dog after this salty sailor’s own heart.

The drive starts… Its immediately apparent when we pass into Canada because the condition of the roads goes from well kept to almost non-existent in the blink of an eye. Dim Sum showed signs of nervousness during the roughest patches, but most of that was due to the vibration of the 4Runner on the poorly paved or completely unpaved roads rather than the fact that she was car-ridden for five and a half days. While I drove for 3500 of the 3600 miles Dim Sum kept Jenny company. We were pleased to see that she was always ready to go for a walk at the end of the driving day.

Once in California Dim Sum made very clear she was done moving around, and we were happy to oblige her. I for one had attained rank high enough that I was able to be at least moderately sure I could find a way to stay in a geographic location for more than three years, and for that we were all thankful.

Jenny and I found out she was pregnant in April of last year, so we bought a home in Elk Grove in November. Dim Sum made it her own by shedding EVERYWHERE. There wasn’t a corner of the house that you couldn’t find white dog fur. We’d finally come home, which was something we’d never known before, and we were very happy.

In December Jenny gave birth to our first baby, Jeremy. When we brought our baby boy home and introduced him to Dim Sum she took to him very quickly. It was obvious she would not have a problem accepting him into the pack, and Jenny and I were once again marveling at the emotional fortitude that this wonderful being had. Once again we remarked on our having built a “home”. The emotional impact this revelation presented was very tangible for all of us.

A week ago yesterday Dim Sum started showing signs of lethargy and poor health. She stopped eating, started drinking a lot of water, and wouldn’t go outside anymore. On Tuesday of last week we took her to the veterinarian for a health check-up. The vet called Jenny that afternoon and said they wanted to hold her overnight for observation because they thought she might have a parasite that they needed to run more tests for, so I took her back to the vet that night.

Wednesday morning the vet called Jenny and told her Dim Sum had advanced stage cancer that had infiltrated her liver and kidneys. The vet said an abdominal ultrasound had revealed tumors throughout her body with the largest in her liver. All of the tumors could be treated except for the one in her liver, and the vet was sad to say that they do not conduct liver transplants for dogs. We were informed that it would be humane to have her euthanized because she was in a lot of pain and the internal bleeding would not be able to be controlled without surgery. Even with surgery she would not live out the week.

Dim Sum was put to rest at 3pm on Wednesday, the 16th of March, 2011 after having been an adoring friend and wonderful protector to the Pisano family since July of 2006. She was about two years old when we rescued her, which made her roughly six and a half years old at her death.

I know in my heart of hearts Dim Sum is watching over us as our family mourns her passing. I also know that if she hadn’t been so wonderful a companion to my family I would not be married today, and thus would not have a wonderful baby boy to care for. Dim Sum, Jenny, Jeremy and I miss you very much, and know you are waiting for us on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge. We will see you once again, my angel. I promise.

— James from Elk Grove, CA

I work at a private, no-kill, non-profit shelter. This is one story of one dog:
The Sunday after Thanksgiving in 2010, early morning, I arrived at the shelter and found one of our dogs barking at something in the woods that ring the property. I have come to recognize the difference of their barks. This dog was trying to tell me something. When I went to investigate, I could see a black animal of some kind, motionless in the thickets. When I got closer, I saw it was a dog. He was either sick or injured, or both. As I carefully approached him, he still did not move. When I got close enough to touch him, I still could not tell what was wrong. When I felt it was relatively safe to examine him, I could see no wounds or trauma at all, and determined he was simply dying of starvation. He was very, very thin, clearly dehydrated, both eyes were infected, he was covered with fleas and had mange. I also felt a lump of some kind under his chin, and his teeth were ground-down to nubs. I guessed he was a Black Lab/Mastiff mix. At the time he weighed about 60lbs., which is about half of what he should normally weigh.
I decided to take him home and see if I could nurse him back to health, then we would go see my Vet. He was too weak to walk on his own, so I had to carry him 1/4 mile back to the shelter, and over a barbed wire fence. As soon as I got him inside, I was able to get some fluids and sugar in his system.
For the first 6 days, he was eating 6 large cans of dog food a day, plus a bowl of kibble. He could walk after 24hrs, but still very unsteady on his feet. After 2 weeks he was walking better, but still a bit wobbly. I felt it was time to see the Vet.
After a full work-up, my Vet told me he had Hookworms and Large Roundworms, he was heartworm positive and had patches of infected skin due to fleas. The X-Rays showed the lump under his chin was a 22cal bullet that had scar tissue built up around it. The X-Rays also explained the reason he walked funny. His right leg showed a stress fracture that was never set, and had healed improperly. When she examined his teeth, she said his teeth had been “surgically reduced”. “Why would somebody do that”? I asked. She said this dog was most likely used as a “bait-dog” for a dog fighting operation. They had clipped his teeth down to nubs, so he could not bite back. The leg fracture was likely caused by dogfights as well. When he was no longer useful as a baitdog, they probably dumped him in woods and used him as taget practice, hence the bullet.
Today, he has a girlfriend (my Bullmastiff) and shares the guest bedroom with her in my house. All of his eye and skin infections are gone and he now weighs around 100lbs. He is able to run fairly normally and is completely housebroken. Looking the way he did when I found him, reminded me of the dirty homeless street urchin in the movie “Oliver”, begging for food. So I named him “Oliver” or “Ollie” for short.
I don’t know how many more years I will have him, but I cherish each and every day that he is here with me. I rescued him, as you rescued Sprite. It was meant to be like this. I will never forget Ollie. When he passes, I will rescue another. I will continue to rescue until it is time for me to pass.

— Daniel from Garland, TX

Sandy Bell was with me for more than 12 years. I rescued her from an animal shelter in Bakersfield in the spring of 1998, when she was just one and a half years old. They told me she was found tied up to a table in an abandoned apartment. How someone could have left behind this beautiful Golden Retriever/Australian Shepherd mix was simply beyond my comprehension.

We made the long drive back to Huntington Beach, and when she entered her new home with me she seemed excited and stayed close to me. I wondered if she had been on stairs before, but as I walked up to the bedroom she followed me right up like we had been friends for many years. Until the night before she died, that never changed.

When I first got her I would not let her up on the couches. I found dog hair on them one day and started to suspect she was getting on them when I was gone. One day while watching TV she just jumped up on the couch like she belonged there (well, she did, after all) and she looked at me and gave me this look like, “What’s the problem?” She had free run of our home ever since then, except for the kitchen. She was only allowed on the low counter between the kitchen and the dining room. She liked that vantage point, where she could sit up high and watch all the action. This was a big surprise for our visiting Nebraska cousin who thought kitchen counters were made for rolling out pie crusts, not for the enjoyment of lounging dogs. Sandy sure loved hopping up on that counter.

Sandy followed me constantly. She would always wait outside of the bathroom door while I showered, impatiently waiting for me to open the door and pet her and play with her. Where I went, she went.

She had the softest fur and cutest face and ears. I liked taking her to the groomers and when she came home she would prance in like she was some show dog. Truth be told, she was far better looking than any show dog I have ever seen.

Outdoor Life

The first time I took her camping with me I bought a 25-foot chain to tether her with just while I brought the food and gear from my truck to the campsite. It was about a 100-yard distance from our campsite to the truck. Shortly after we arrived and scoped out the campsite I put her on the chain and then headed back to my truck to begin unloading the gear to bring it to the campsite. I had only been gone a couple of minutes when suddenly she jumped in the back of the truck next to me and I could see that she had broken the chain. She would have nothing to do with not being with me.

When we fished together, as soon as my pole bent she knew there was something exciting about to happen. She would get to the edge of the boat while I reeled in my rainbow trout and try to snatch it from the hook as I brought the fish on board. She loved to fish with me. She would get so excited when the trout came on the boat and would bark like crazy, just like she had caught it herself.

A Dog with More Lives than a Cat

Sandy loved to fetch balls and was lightning fast. One day I was hitting tennis balls to her and she was chasing them down. Suddenly a car came out of nowhere and ran right over her. I saw her go under the car and the oil pan rolled her over and then the car drove off of her. I thought she was dead, but suddenly she got up, grabbed her ball and pranced toward me as if nothing had happened. She was full of grease. I rushed her to the vet for X-rays and she was OK, as if nothing had ever happened.

A few years later, she ate snail food by accident and by the time we realized it and found out it was affecting her, she was shaking. We rushed her to the emergency vet and she went into convulsions as soon as we walked in the door. I thought she was dying right in front of our eyes. They rushed her into the back and immediately started working on her. We anxiously waited for what felt like an eternity, but just 15 minutes had passed and the vet came into the room and told us she had gotten most of the poison out and Sandy was OK. I was shocked. They had us take her to an all-night vet to keep her medicated and monitor her because they expected more convulsions. She was all doped up and as I carried her to the car she could barely move. As my we drove to the all-night vet I was so happy she was alive, yet I had tears running down my face because I was so worried about her. She was sitting in my lap exhausted, but she must have sensed my sorrow because she soon turned and gave me the shortest most gentle kiss she had ever given me. I knew it took everything she had to do that. She had a few more convulsions over the next several hours, but she made it through the night and was miraculously completely OK after that.

One time we took stock of these and all her other escapades: Heat stroke while hiking in the mountains, nearly drowning after swimming out too far chasing balls in a lake, having an allergic reaction after getting bitten in the face by a spider (she was six at the time—the vet said that’s the kind of thing that only happens to curious puppies). She was one tough, lucky dog. She survived it all and then some.

Wally Joins the Pack

Wally, a handsome mutt of Golden Retriever/German Shepherd extraction, came into our lives on February 18, 2011. A friend who works with a rescue organization sent us his picture along with a brief bio telling us he was a one and a half year old stray who wound up on death row in, of all places, an animal shelter in Bakersfield. He looked enough like Sandy Bell to be her younger sibling, and he desperately needed a home. Days later they met and got along just fine, and Sandy seemed to let me know it would be OK for him to stay. That night Wally joined our family, and after so many years as an only-dog, Sandy finally had a little brother. We had been planning to take Sandy on a road trip to a fancy dog-friendly resort in May and we were very excited to include Wally in the fun, but sadly it was not meant to be.

Finding Out the Bad News

On March 7, 2011, I found out this special dog, Sandy Bell, who had followed my every move for so many years, had hemangiosarcoma, a highly aggressive cancer that had caused tumors to grow in her spleen and spread to her liver. The tumors had started to rupture and were causing her to bleed internally, and that was what had been making her feel so weak. My heart still aches at the thought.

She had been aging and slowing down, but in the week prior to her diagnosis she was so tired and her eyes looked so sad and distant. She had perked up a bit by that Friday, but we still took her in to see the vet just to make sure everything was okay. The vet ran some blood tests and said her red blood cell count was half what it had been less than two months earlier. She took some X-rays and said she suspected there might be tumors on her spleen. There was hope that they could be removed surgically, but a radiologist would have to exam her first to make sure they had not spread. We took her home and had a good weekend together. She seemed just like her old happy self, so full of life it was hard to believe she might be seriously ill.

The ultrasound was performed that Monday, and that was when we received the terrible news. We bought her home and prepared to start her on a new and promising drug that’s supposed to slow down cancer growth. In one way I felt like it was good that that I could plan to spend the remaining days we had as close to her as I could. I knew I would not let her suffer and I promised her daily that I would do everything I could to make her better. On the other hand, it hurt knowing her time was short.

We started the new medication that Saturday. She didn’t like it much but we wanted to be sure we were doing everything possible to try and extend her time with us and enhance her quality of life. She had her second dose the following Monday, and we started to wonder whether she was having a reaction to the medication because she seemed a little listless. She ate her dinner very slowly, and only with much coaxing on our part and my wife basting it with broth and cupping it in her hands for Sandy to eat. She tried to make us feel better by wanting to play with her new tennis balls, and carried one with her when she came upstairs to bed that night, but she was clearly more tired than usual, and she knew we were worried about her.

Tuesday turned out to be our last night with our beautiful Sandy Bell. She was so very tired. She stayed by her water bowl most of the night and hardly moved. She did not want her dinner, but finally ate a few bites along with her pain pill in a piece of cheese, and gave my wife a kiss and ate a couple of Canine Carryouts, her all-time favorite treats, to make her mom feel better.

I slept downstairs on the couch near Sandy so she would not feel alone that night. I woke up about 2AM and she was at the foot of the stairs with Wally. I went upstairs to bed. It was the first time ever that she did not come upstairs to sleep near us. My wife went downstairs a little later when she heard Sandy crying and slept curled up with her at the bottom of the stairs. About 4AM Sandy did something else she never did. She went outside, and from sheer exhaustion she sprawled out on the wet, muddy grass. In the summer she liked to lie on the cool flagstone, but she never slept on the grass. My wife brought her back in and she lay back down by her water bowl, where she stayed for the rest of the night. My wife slept on the couch next to her. Wally never left their side the entire night.

The Hardest Decision

Wednesday morning at about 9AM my wife called me at work, sobbing. She told me Sandy looked real bad, and she had called the vet for an urgent appointment. I left work almost knowing what was coming. I got home and poor Sandy looked as bad as when I had left a few hours earlier. She was very tired and could hardly move, and her gums were yellow-white, but still there were sweet loving kisses for Mom and Dad. We loaded her in the car and she was breathing so hard. We got out and walked a little before going inside. I was thinking, this may be the last time she gets in my car.

The vet said she was bleeding internally from the tumors again. She was not sure if it would stop. She said there was no wrong decision. We could try to keep her on the medication a few more days if we wanted to wait and see if it would start working, but there was no guarantee and we would also run the risk of her dying at home. I could not stand the thought of her dying alone while we were at work, or worse find her dead in the backyard wet from the morning dew. I had always promised her the dignity she had earned. I knew I had to keep that promise.

I gave the vet the OK, and soon Sandy was asleep in our arms, free of suffering. We cried and cried, I took off her collar to keep and we walked out and went home. I was numb and sure I did the right thing. I went to work and my wife stayed home. I could not sit around and think about it anymore. She could not bear to see or speak to anyone.

Forever in Our Hearts

It’s been just over a week since Sandy has been gone. I miss her more than I ever imagined. One week later I still feel in some way I have let her down and could have done more. I know that’s just nonsense… but that’s what I feel. I have never felt anything like this before. I have read a lot about the loss of a pet and all I can keep coming back to is that I did the right thing for her and that she will live forever in our hearts: The lovable, loyal, mischievous, and beautiful Sandy Bell.

I have her collar on the mantle with a candle and two balls. We will light the candle every night for a year in honor of this precious dog, and soon we will bring her ashes home and keep them in a place of honor. I think that the best way for me to cope with this is to listen to her message to me. She showed me the bond between man and dog. It’s strong and true and like nothing else in this world. She was loyal, lovable, cute, funny and a proud dog. She hardly left my side in all the years I was blessed with having her.

I will watch over Wally because of her, and make sure he’s safe and happy because of her. Maybe even more than I did for her, as now that she is gone I feel I should have done more for her. I will donate more money to dog foundations, and every dog I come in contact with will benefit from the love that Sandy showed me, for she showed me how special dogs are to us and how lucky we are to have them in our homes.

I often think that we humans would not have survived as well as we have without dogs. They have gone to war with us, they police our streets with us, and they rescue us from all kinds of danger. Sandy has done none of these great deeds. What she has done is what all dogs are born to do, and that is to love and be loyal. She gets a gold medal for that. A more loveable, loyal dog I have never known.

To Sandy,

I love you so much, Sandy Bell. You have been my loyal friend for so long and life without you is not the same. You shared so much with me over the years. I trust you are in heaven and romping in the fields chasing balls with our other lost dogs and waiting for me to show up and throw you the ball and kiss your face to say how much I have missed you.

— George from Huntington Beach, CA

Well my story is short by sweet. I feel my little dog was an answer to a prayer and I’ll tell you why…..
I was about to retire and being a woman alone but very active I knew I wanted a dog to keep me that way, like going on walks in the great parks along the American River and day trips to Bodega Bay at the ocean.
Where I worked I had a friend who in April of last year brought into work 8 beautiful puppies for sale and adoption. My plans to retire were for the month of December that same year. When she brought them in, my heart was pounding in my chest when I saw them. I was so taken with their adorable sweet dispositions and even more adorable looks. They were called “Havachon” puppies. I picked one up and my friends said to me “oh you gotta have one of those ,,,,they look like your kind of dog”. The problem was I didn’t have the money she wanted for them and it was actually too early for me to get a puppy because if I did that would mean she would have to be home all alone while I was at work and to me that just wouldn’t be fair to a puppy. Sadly I put her back in the basket and accepted the fact it was too early to get my puppy.
Everyone saw my disappointment, and I asked my friend if she thought her dog might have another littler of pups by the end of the year? She told me no because she was getting her spayed and she didn’t want her having any more puppies.
That was sad news to hear, and on the way home from work that day my heart was broken and I just prayed to God that I could have a puppy just like the one I was holding that day. No one knew how truly sad it was for me to let that puppy go. In the month of August I was having a conversation with my friends at work and one of them said ” well have you checked out any puppies lately?” I said yes I had but they were pretty expensive and most of the Havachons were quite a distance to travel to get them. You see I wanted one just like my friend had brought to work….that particular breed wasn”t that easy to find. As we were talking in the break room, my friend (the one who brought in the puppies) happened to walk by the table and I said “I want a dog just like her puppies” They all remembered what I was talking about. To my amazement she turned around and said to me ” Annie are you still looking for a puppy?” I said yes, but I want one like you brought in and they are really hard to find right now. Well she put her head down and mumbled “well my dog just had another littler of puppies and they are 2 weeks old right now, and she was not supposed to have any more…I just can’t believe it happened” Well to me it happened because God saw how broken hearted I was and how I begged Him to let me have a dog like hers. She said it was an accident, but I feel it was an answer to my prayer and this little darling dog is the light of my life and I could not be happier. First time I saw her she was 4 weeks old and I saw her once every week until she was 8 weeks old. The day I came to get her she was playing in the middle of the floor with 7 other puppies and when she saw me, she left her sibblings and ran to me. yep…my little answer to prayer……anyway that’s my story…..her name is “kona-bear”…and I’m thankful everyday for her.

— Annie from Carmichael, CA

A very somber day at my house the last two days. Lots of tears shed and memories shared. More tears. Yesterday, 3/26/11, while show shoeing in the Sierras our oldest Chesapeake, Jake aged nine and a half years, expired on the trail out of Lyons Reservoir. It was a two mile hike into the reservoir, all downhill. He was all happy and full of joy chasing snowballs and wading into the feeder creek. He and my other dog, Bear, were running and jumping and having a grand time. On the walk back, my best friend got a little ahead of me and I was a little ahead of my spouse. As dogs are want to do, both Chessies were ahead with my friend. I was chugging along a little ways back with my head down struggling slightly with the climb. And then just within my view from under my ball cap I see one of my dogs lying on the ground like he’s sleeping. As casual as can be. Within a second I see it doesn’t look right. I kneel down beside him and do a First Aid / CPR “shake and shout”. I look in his eyes and it’s obvious he is gone. As I type this I am beginning to leak again. But I have to share the love, joy and wonder of Jumpin’ Jake the Dawg. He was a scraper and a stubborn SOB and we clashed many times. He was very high strung and while he loved pheasant hunting he never was comfortable around the gun. He had some very traumatic times in his all too short life. He was attacked by a swarm of bees as a puppy. He acquired a one in a million autoimmune disease that nearly killed him but for a high dose of prednisone over the course of a couple months. Then he got into some raw trout fish heads near a lake that nearly killed him from the parasites. Yet, through all that he still managed to make two humans very happy. I live you, Jake, and will miss you so much.

— Don from Oakland, CA

Jack & Nuts are Jack Russel Terriers. Nuts came first when my best friends dad passed away. No one wanted the dog because he was a huge pain, ran away all the time and frequently did his business in the house.
I finally broke down and said I would look after the dog until a suitable home could be found. We went on to talk about other things and there was no more discussion of Nuts. When I went to leave that evening, guess who was in the passenger seat, along with his bed, his bones and his food, there was Nuts. Meanwhile my friend had called my young teenage son and told him “mom has a suprise for you”
That was May of 2003. About five years later Nuts was starting to slow down and get fat. My husband e-mailed me a picture of Jack from our local animal shelter, he wrote “Nuts needs a brother”. I called the shelter and was told that Jack had a hold on him and was going to a good family. I thought, well that’s fine then. Several weeks went by and for some reason I went back to the shelter’s website and there was Jack, so I called again I was told Jack still had a hold on him but we could come and visit on Saturday if we wanted. I told my husband, why would we want to visit a dog we can’t have. Never the less, when Saturday came we took the 30 mile ride to the shelter to see Jack.
We took him for a walk, he was skin and bones and had a bad case of kennel cough. We fell in love. Back at the shelter we asked the girl there to please call the people with the hold to see if they still wanted Jack. She said there were actually two holds, she called the first one and they told her they had purchased another dog and did not want him anymore (nice of them to call). Then she called the other person who had the hold and she said she still wanted Jack, so sadly we left.
Less than two hours later my cell phone rang, it was the shelter, it seems the other person didn’t want Jack either, he was ours. We wanted to collect him right away and get him out of there, he had been there so long, but they said we had to wait until he was nutered. So we paid for the surgery and waited for a call. As it turned out the vet could not put him under because of the kennel cough. So I begged, please let me take him home and get him well, I promise I will bring him back to the vet when he is better. They let us go.
Now Nuts loves people, but never got along with other dogs, so I was alittle worried. I brought Jack into the house on a leash and showed him around, to my suprise Nuts didn’t seem to mind, maybe he sensed that Jack was sick and needed love, they got along from the start.
Jack kept us up for 3 or 4 nights coughing and finally got better. Luckily Nuts did not catch kennel cough, which the vet said was a real possibility, even though they both slept with us.
We came to realize that Jack had been mistreated and most likley beaten. My daughter said one day “you know if you yell at him he pees on the floor” She was right, if you as much as rasied your voice to him he would cower down and pee out of sheer terror, it was so sad. After 4 years we still don’t yell at him no matter what trouble he gets into.
I guess it was about a year after we got Jack that Nuts started losing weight rapidly and was thirsty all the time, as I suspected he had developed diabetes. We had all kinds of tests and Nuts had to stay at the vet all day for 5 days, at least we got to take him home at night.
It has been several years now and Nuts has gone blind from the diabetes, but Jack keeps him going, Nuts gets two insulin shots a day and Jack does not like it at all, he barks and carrys on when we give Nuts his shots. I guess he thinks we’re hurting him.
They fight with the rope toy and try to both get through the dog door at the same time when they hear somthing in the back yard, it’s hilarious.
I kow that someday I will be faced with losing one of my boys and I cry just thinking about it, they have brought so much to our lives. Yes, Jack Russells are a handful and not for the faint of heart, but the joy these animals bring can not be measured or equaled by anything.

— Wendy from Florida