Sixteen years ago, I was not really much of an animal lover. I had my hands full raising my daughter as a single dad and making a living – a lot like most folks these days I suppose. Then one day my girlfriend and my daughter decided that they wanted to get a cream color Persian kitty. I was a bit ambivalent about the whole thing, but I acquiesced. On the way home that Friday night, we stopped at a pet store and got the carrier, a scratching post the size of compact auto, and numerous cat toys – all before they even began their sojourn to the wilds of Sacramento to find this one of a kind kitty. The two of them drove off in the noon day sun, and I stayed home and watched a ball game (baseball I think) – a good compromise I thought. I was not particularly excited about the whole thing but I accepted the inevitable.
Early evening they returned with a tiny little kitty that was a mixture of browns and black and I suppose a little tan or cream color. This was not what I expected. This was not a cream color kitty I was expecting. In fact, at first I frowned and said – “What’s this – this is not a cream colored kitty?” But then it happened. She looked up at me and I could swear this was not an animal I was looking at – but a human – an old soul. She was a magnificent specimen. Perfect face. A sweet little kitty with big eyes, bushy fur, but a much more balanced looking face than the sort of “squashed” faces you see on many Persians. My girlfriend the caterer named this tortoise colored Persian – Tiramisu. Appropriate. Same colors as that great Italian dessert.
I am not really a great story teller and certainly I cannot tell you the joy she brought to our family, but I do remember that I had one request that I whispered under my breath during those first days after she arrived: “I hope she never grows up! She’s just so perfect as she is!; I hope she doesn’t turn into one of those nasty old big cats that I hadn’t much use for”, I thought to myself – and after almost 16 years she never got over six pounds and most of that was her magnificent coat.
My big hearted girlfriend decided when Tiramisu was about 8 years old she needed a companion. So she rescued this funny looking Himalayan that had been so matted that the groomer was forced to shave his whole body except his large black and gray head. When we looked at his little skinny body with that big head and those beautiful bulbous eyes, I naturally thought of ET – and from that day on he was no longer Mr. Tibbs, the abused neglected cat, he was ET, the most loved cat in Marin County.
In Tira’s (short for Tiramisu) last years, we found a benign growth in her neck and our Vet successfully operated and she seemed to be back to normal. But eventually, like all of our best friends with fur, she succumbed to the ravages of time. She was a noble cat – Tiramisu. Unlike many cats and people for that matter, she was stoic – she never complained no matter what the situation – even when she was being groomed and bounced around like a rag doll, she never made a sound. I can’t even remember her even giving off one Meow (though I’m sure she did from time to time). She did hiss a bit when she was groomed, but hardly any other sound – though I know she could have made some nasty ones if she wanted. But that was not who she was. She was an angel kitty from the day she entered my life until the day she passed away.
That was a tough year for me. My mother passed away at the grand age of 96 and though I had been psychologically preparing for her passing for years – it was still one of the most painful things any human can go through – prepared or not – and certainly I’m not sure if I have totally let go. But how I’ve changed in the sixteen years that Tiramisu was a part of my life – only a few months after my mother’s passing – I lost another member of my family. At first I felt almost a bit guilty for feeling as bad about the loss of my cat as my mother, but I realized that they were both family and they were both irreplaceable. I will miss them both. I look forward to seeing them both in heaven. I know they have both made me a better person and I know they’re both in heaven looking down and waiting for me to join them. Sometimes I wonder why we humans can’t love everyone the same, but I just don’t think it’s possible. But I do know now that loving a few people really well while we’re here is probably good enough for our imperfect souls, and I know now that humans are not the only angels in heaven – there’s at least one angel kitty there too!

— Alan from Fairfax, CA

My border collie, Sam, is over 14 years old and although she is still with me, she has had 3 episodes in the last 4 months that has required a vet visit. I adore Sam and love her with all my heart. Today she couldm”t walk and another visit to the vey. I listen to Mark describe the visits to the vet leading up the the last days – I am grieving today knowing that my Sweet Girl is nearing the end. Although I am so thankful for her healthy and happy life, the heartbreak today is awful – I needed a place to write where I knew people would understand

— Alan from Vienna, VA

While driving to work on a very cold February morning in the Chicago suburbs, I stopped the car because this dog with a Styrofoam cup in his mouth was in the street. As I approached the dog, he was wagging his tail and was very skinny with his fur in a mess from being alone. I quickly scooped him up, drove him, and gave him food and water. I felt every bone in his back because he was so underweight.
That was the day that changed our lives postively. My wife and I brought him to the vet and the vet thought he was a year old and was out surviving for 3 months. We named him Cody. As we quickly bonded with Cody, nothing could ever separate him for us. We adopted him and spoiled him with attention and affection. He quickly gained to his weight and loved his walks. This wonderful, loving dog is an inspiration to us. He taught me what’s really important in life: life was to be savored with all the joy it brings and that togetherness is what really matters, not material things. It’s what you do that matters, not what you have.
We’ve been blessed with his presence for 15 years and while he’s a senior dog, he still gets around, loves to eat and play. Not everything works as well as it used to, but he’s growing old gracefully which we hope we can be fortunate enough to do ourselves.

— Martin from San Diego, CA

My name is Dennis and my wife is Loretta. We’ve been married nearly 43 years and have had a number of dogs as a part of our family. Ten days ago on January 29, we lost our Ruby to Blastomycosis, the most cruel, vicious disease imaginable. She was a beautiful golden retriever with short hair. She was only 2 ½ years old. We had her euthanized after losing all hope. All our past dogs were deeply loved and we grieved for them. Our Ruby was exceptional in this respect. We consider her a “once in a lifetime” companion. There will probably be another dog in our future but none could come close to what our Ruby gave to and meant to us.

Today, February 8th., I brought her ashes home. Today, we also finished reading your book “Rescuing Sprite.” I remember hearing you telling Sprite’s story on Rush’s radio program a few years ago and knew we needed to read it and it would help us in dealing with our loss. I also bought a copy for my daughter who was very close to our Ruby and who has Ruby’s 2 year older sister Abby, and a copy for one of my sisters who still grieves for past beloved dogs.

It’s amazing the similarities between your experiences with your Sprite and ours with our Ruby. Our veterinary and his staff were wonderful with our Ruby. They always referred to her as a very sweet dog. After she passed, they sent us a beautiful plant with hyacinths and a tulip. We will plant them in a special place this spring. The crematorium which handled our Ruby was very professional and compassionate also. When they returned our Ruby to us today, they included a small patch of her fur and a little puppy print of some material that has flower seeds implanted in it. The instructions say to plant it and a rainbow of flowers will grow. We have a very special place to plant both. Last year I began clearing an area on the 8 rural acres we own. There is a path around the main portion of our acreage which we took our Ruby on walks morning and evening and on snowshoes during the winter. The area I am clearing will become “Ruby’s Park” and the special plantings will be the entrance to her park. We intended to have a larger area for her to chase tennis balls and Frisbee’s than our front yard allowed. I have a special piece of red cedar on which “Ruby’s Park” will be inscribed and will be a part of the planting area. Someday, we may have a use for it. Until then I will maintain it.

— Dennis from Merrill, WI

My son rescued a dog from the pound while he was stationed in Guam as an EOD Officer in the USN.  His dog is a male Yorkshire and his name is Buster.  Buster’s former owner tried to strangle Buster to death and the trauma was so severe that Buster’s eyes were bulged out; but thank God for my son and good veterinary medicine; Buster is adorable.  I am attaching pics of Buster, Dusty (my son’s other dog and she is the curly haired black dog), and Sammy, my dog whom I rescued and he is a tri-color collie and is getting old.

— Fred from Marion, KS

This is a poem I wrote for my cat, Another Winnie the Pooh MacDonald Day. (We called her Pooh). She went to heaven two years and two months ago today.

“A Soldier and His Cat”

I sat in the window and watched;
He walked down the steps;
he looked back.
He waved at me and I purred.
How long has he been gone?
A small white flag
hangs in the window just above my head.
It has a gold star in the middle.
She cries, the man covers his face with his hand.
I think they miss him, too.
I sit in the window and watch.
I hope he comes back some day.

— Rosalie from Santa Ana, CA