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Listener Stories

Nancy

I am a dog lover, when i listen to mark and his listeners on the radio talk about their dogs, it always brings tears to my eyes.  My empathy is so heart felt.  I know the pain that is felt for our beloved family members who are sick and or dieing.  Being especially fond of spaniels, having 3 of them right now, a springer spaniel, and 2 cavalier king charles spaniels, and in the past 9 years having lost 2 cockers and a saint bernard.  I myself have been through some pain with each of their passings.  I wanted to let anyone who is going through this rough time know my thoughts and try and offer what helped me.  Time is the only thing that helped me get back to a normal life, the pain can be so deep and the heart ache never goes away, and it does get easier with time. your tears give honor to that life you shared with your dogs, so let it pour.  Our dogs , the closest thing to knowing God is such a blessing.  They are truly our best friends, and sometimes we are closer to them than humans, thus explaining why the pain is so deep.  Thank- you Mark for letting me share and bless you all for loving and caring for these very special gifts from god.

— Nancy from Laytonville, CA

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Ollie And Stanley

Although I’ve been a long time listener, I never dreamed I would be writing to Mark Levin’s Pet Corner. I grew up on a farm, where my parents operated a kennel, and I saw many dogs come and go. However, our family has been devastated by the death of two very special dogs in a tragic accident at our home. We are hoping it will relieve some of our incredible grief to document the joy and happiness those dogs brought to our lives.

Ollie was a Bernese Mountain Dog, and Stanley was a Rhodesian Ridgeback. Both weighed about 110 pounds, but Ollie looked rotund with all his hair, while Stanley was athletic and wiry, in comparison. Ollie had the friendliest possible disposition. He loved everybody. How I miss his standing hugs every time I came home! Stanley was more reserved but so incredibly huggable. He slept on our bed most nights. With all his fur, Ollie preferred to sleep on the cold tile floor or near a door crack in the winter.

We really loved these dogs, even though they were a lot of work. It took months to get them house broken – never quite made it. Stanley would still eat or chew up just about anything. In the most recent incident, he grabbed a package of .38 ammunition. Five shells were missing. We can only assume that he ate the bullets. He showed no signs of illness. They apparently passed through in short order. Why in the world would he eat bullets?

I took the dogs for walks frequently, almost every night during nicer weather. They just loved these walks. They knew the routine and got insanely euphoric when I started to put on their collars. Once I said “Let’s go”, they would be jumping all over me, knocking me down, as I tried to dress or put on their special collars before the walks. I especially enjoyed taking them to a gigantic field at a nearby college. I normally just let Ollie loose because he stayed near me and listened well. Stanley was another story. He would sometimes take off when I let him off the leash and run maybe a quarter mile or so before returning to me. On one winter walk, he ran to a road at the college. He started chasing a car, trying to jump up on the car – crazy dog! I tried to chase him down with Ollie running near me. The snow was pretty deep and had drifted over a huge ditch. If you can imagine the scene, I was almost to him when I sunk in a drift above my waist. I am sure the people in the car thought I was crazy. Another winter day, we were in the park nearly alone – one other car in the lot. I let Ollie roam while I fastened Stanley’s collar. I heard a woman shrieking. She was terrified of Ollie, who was just trying to say hi. He has the nicest disposition of any dog and loved everybody. It was hard for me to believe anyone would be afraid of him.

The dogs also loved to join me on runs or walks in a nearby park. These walks had to be on the leash because of other people and dogs. We had a routine. Stanley normally led, pulling me along, and Ollie stayed closer to my side. Of course, the leashes were a challenge. I had to keep them away from sign posts and other entangling hazards. Stanley was disappointed if I was not running that day. He ran like a deer and it seemed like I was never going fast enough for him. For a while, I tried to walk (run) him with the bike. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that was not going to work. He pulled the bike down a couple times chasing after an animal or stopping abruptly. In general, the dogs behaved better if I was running. They did not have enough time to stop and smell everything. Stanley wanted to attack any animal, especially any dogs. Actually, I don’t think he wanted to attack them; he just wanted to get at them. I doubt he would have harmed them if he got to them. Usually, he backed off or just smelled them, but their owners were often horrified by his size and seeming ferocity. In reality, he was a “scaredy cat”. A small yappy dog or even a squeak from a children’s toy would make him cower. I will summarize some other fond memories of the dogs.

• Getting ready for a trip to Columbus, we realized Stanley had been chewing on the seat belts in the van. He completely chewed through one of the belts!

• The dogs periodically got into the garbage. We fought a constant battle to make the cans inaccessible, but the dogs sometimes won. Ollie especially liked bread for some reason. Even if we threw out stale bread, we had to be careful that he didn’t get into it. There were many days that full loaves of bread vanished from seemingly inaccessible areas in the kitchen.

• Out of the blue, the dogs (probably Stanley) chewed the cover off one of my son’s text books. It was a book on computer networking. I had been using his book to study up on computer network design to help me in my current job overseeing our cyber security program. It is still useable. I just have to use the book with no front cover. It looks a little funny.

• The dogs destroyed several packages left on the driveway. The most memorable incident was when they chewed up our daughter’s new cellular phone. The cell phone was securely double packaged, but that provided little deterrence for them. We couldn’t figure out why delivery was taking so long. Then, we started to see phone packaging strewn around the front yard and eventually the chewed cell phone in their hidden lair. Luckily, they had not chewed any packages for months because most of our packages are now delivered to our neighbor’s house.

• The dogs used to eat our remote controls for a while. They ate the remotes for at least two different TVs. At the time, they seemed to like the unique remotes. In other words, they ate the more expensive ones to replace. As I told my wife many times, “We need to teach them to chew on the universal remotes — or none at all.”

• We spoiled our dogs with table scraps, but the dogs would eat virtually any people food dropped on the floor. They would even eat frozen vegetables and fruits that fell in their “eating area.” The dogs got surprised one day when some spicy cooked spinach dropped on the floor. They ate it and got a big surprise. They made the funniest yucky food faces as the spinach was gobbled up. They ever really tasted anything before eating it.

More than the special stories described above, we just miss seeing the dogs around the house. It was a surprise for us to learn that many neighbors and passers by also loved seeing the dogs and told us their fond memories. We assumed the neighbors were just troubled or bothered that the dogs occasionally escaped the invisible fence. Some of these memories are captured below:

• We have a pile of sand in the front yard, left over from construction projects. Both dogs loved to stand or lay on that pile and watch over the yard. Our neighbors would frequently talk to the dogs from their nearby driveway.

• Ollie would howl every time an emergency vehicle siren came near the house. Actually, he attempted to howl. He tried to hit too high a pitch, and the off key whine was hysterical.

• Both dogs would drink out of the pond in the back yard. Ollie would frequently drink right from the waterfall.

• Even though he slept a lot, Stanley was the watchdog. On a periodic basis, he dutifully monitored the windows for intruders and checked on every one in the house. During his down periods he loved to lay on the couch or loveseat. He was often seen lounging upside down enjoying his dog’s life. He seemed so peaceful and innocent during these periods. It was hard to imagine all the destruction he could wreak during his awake times.

Stanley and Ollie died several weeks ago, and the paralyzing grief and shock of their deaths are finally simmering down to a bearable level. It was tough to make the emotional decision to purchase a new dog, but our new Bernese Mountain Dog Puppy, Oscar, is definitely helping us get over our loss. We are now able to look at the many photos of Stanley and Ollie and retell the humorous episodes in their short lives.

We loved those Darn Dogs!!

— Mark from Elyria, OH

Shade

My Golden Retriever, Douglas, and I were on my small boat heading out on a wilderness lake to camp on an island. As the boat approached the island, Douglas started growling. The boat touched land and out of the forest came a Black Lab. She was apprehensive but I coaxed her close enough to to grab her and pull on board. The trip was over. The Lab was priority. Someone drove her clear out in the middle of a lake, took off her collar and set her on the island. A death warrant. She was covered with ticks and starving. Long story short; The lab named Shade, is my constant companion and is my shadow along with Douglas the Golden. That story occurred three years ago. I can not pass up a dog on the road. I now have 12 dogs that I have saved. I have saved and found homes for 43 dogs last year and already have placed 15 this year. The most recent addition was a pregnant hound who had pups two months ago. 3 of seven pups have been placed. I’m running out of money but the gratification is worth the effort. I love em.

— Gary from Greenback, TN

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Mischa

Mischa came into my life 12 years ago, as a 2-year-old stray. A friend found her, freezing and hungry, in a Brooklyn parking lot. I adopted her after she was “turned down” by others who wanted a kitten. I’m ever thankful for that turn of events. She was a great comfort, especially during the months after September 11, 2001. Our pets have a sixth, seventh and eight sense . . . they know when we need them most. I lost Mischa to cancer on May 1 of this year. I’m still stunned by the void in my life. At night I hear phantom paw sounds, and if I know my Mischa, she’s comforting me from afar. I will always cherish the 12 years she lived here and made his house a home. Thank you, Mischa and sweet dreams!

— Liz from New York, NY

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Tucker

We rescued “Tucker” from the county shelter two hours before he was scheduled for euthanasia. Reason: he had a pronounced limp in his right rear leg, which was probably also the reason he had been “dumped” at the shelter. His estimated age was about nine months. We did not know if his injury was due to abuse, or being hit by a car, but we knew we had rescued an extremely fearful dog who was also an extremely handsome, ginger-colored Shepherd-Chow mix, intelligent, soulful and immediately endearing. Slowly, he bonded with our two Scotties and lowered his guard – but never completely. We gained his trust and his affection gradually. An x-ray of his right hip revealed a break that had begun to heal in the form of a “false joint.” It also revealed the common Sheperd affliction of hip displasia. Within a month, however, Tucker was walking and running normally. He was also learning to play and to interact with his canine and human pack. Alas, despite reactive and other training, his fear of strangers persisted, manifested by occasional lunging at passersby on walks and growling at anyone who entered his house. But when when we gaze into his beautiful, grateful brown eyes or receive his sloppy kisses, we know we made the right decision. After two+ years, we’re still working on his fear/aggression issues, but Tucker is an integral member of our pack, now and always.

— Tim from Tucson, AZ

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Frank

One look into his beautiful blue eyes, and his name became obvious. Frank was our dog-cat. He was a very handsome Siamese mix; a rather large boy who weighed about 18 lbs when he was full grown. He was delivered to us at home by a stray who’d adopted us about 6 weeks prior.

Frank would follow me everywhere, he’d come running across the yard at full speed when I called his name, and he would sleep with us every night stretched out full length beside me, completely relaxed. He was our constant companion, going everywhere with us, including several vacations to the San Juan Islands on our classic cruiser.

My husband had never been a “cat person” until Frank. Frank and he bonded one day when Frank’s mother decided to bring a still-alive large mouse into our kitchen. She dropped it onto the floor, then ran to her own food dish as if to say, “Here, I brought your something to eat. While you work on this, I’ll go finish the stuff in my food dish.” The mouse sat there stunned for only a moment, then disappeared behind the breakfast counter. Knowing that Frank was an experienced mouser who loved to catch mice out in our field, I found Frank and brought him into the kitchen. He zeroed in almost immediately on the mouse who had run up the leg of a stool. Frank sprung into action, chasing the mouse around the kitchen, out into the living room, down the stairway and into the basement behind the bar. After a couple of minutes of crashing and squeaking, Frank emerged with the deceased mouse. Karl suddenly had a new appreciation for Frank and they became bonded friends for the rest of his life with us.

We lost Frank on January 18, 2008. He’d gone outside for his usual morning exercise, but that day he didn’t come back as usual. I called and called for him, but he never came. I began to sense that something was wrong, so I went looking for him. I walked around the outside of the house calling his name and, as I rounded the house by the carport where we stored our motorhome, I heard him meow in response. I looked under the motorhome and saw him laying there, but he wouldn’t get up to come to me. My nephew happend to be visiting at the time, so he crawled under the motor home to retrieve Frank. When he brought Frank out, we discovered why he hadn’t come out on his own. Frank had evidently suffered a catastrophic stroke that had paralyzed his hindquarters. His body was completely cold from the midsection all the way down. We rushed him to our vet, but since his circulation had been completely cut off from the middle of his spine, there was no hope in saving him and we had to put him down that terrible day. I don’t know how he’d managed to drag himself under the motorhome, but he did and had managed to stay alive until I was able to find him. We’re so thankful for the 10 years we had with him and I still miss him so much.

— Lois from Shelton, WA

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