This is not a story of one of my own dogs, although their stories are compelling – each dog I’ve had through the years has been a unique and wonderful individual and each has left his or her mark. This is the story of the dog of a client, a story that, although short, affected me deeply.

As a practicing veterinarian, it is my sad duty and responsibility to end the suffering of many beloved pets. Each act of euthanasia encompasses the intervention of an (often) outside individual performing a seemingly detached procedure involving only the pet, and not the family. This detachment, believe me, is a defense mechanism to preserve one’s own sanity. Any caring veterinarian is deeply moved by the love and bond between dog and owner.
None affected me more, however, than Daisy.

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I had been reluctant to get a dog since I had bad experiences with them when I was young. A few weeks ago, however, a pom-chi mix tugged at my heartstrings to the extent that I felt compelled to adopt him.

He had been a stray for a while until he turned up at the county animal shelter. A rescue organization came to his aid just in time to save him. He was in pretty bad shape when I saw him a few days later- he has canine pattern baldness (perhaps the reason why his original owners let him stray?), the hair he did have was awfully matted, a bad scar crossed his head, and his demeanor was awfully timid.

I wanted to give him a better life, but it turns out he has given me more joy than I could ever have imagined. He picked up some bad habits that we are working on, but every day with him is more special than the last.

Robert from GA

Although I have a dog – a wonderful german Shepard – Teddy – but this story is about a bird (or two).
In the Summer – sitting in the patio I noticed that some new birds must have moved in the backyard because I heard a lot of songs from at least 15 kinds – all beautiful. I look around – seeing no bird at all. Only I hear these georgous concert. Where are they hiding – I say. I took my camera and started to make a little film – just for registering the music. Then I saw a bird flying away – and the music also stopped. Well – what is that? I replayed the film – and saw that not one but two birds flying in a big “hush” away from the tree I filmed. Now I was really curious and started to watch a lot – and finally able to make still pictures also – one is attached. They were Mocking Birds! In New Jersey! I was so happy – they are amazing musicians. We discovered their nest too – seeing them flying in their fast hush way in and out of a shed-window – the nest was on a shelf in a woden bowl – neatly put together. We left them alone of course and just enjoyed the uniqe concerts day by day. But one day there was no more music – no bird – they all gone. They are not migrating birds – I still wonder where they have gone and miss them a lot.

P.S. Dear Mark I have preordered two copies of your book and will cherish it when come. I also cherish the time spending with you in the week-days evenings. God Bless you and all your loved ones! We need you.

Eva from NJ

I just want people to know about Ginger. She was a magnificently sweet, loving harlequin Great Dane whom we rescued four years ago from a credible Great Dane rescue center in Riverside, CA.

The people who had dropped Ginger off at the center clearly lied about her age, her background and the reasons for which they were giving her up. The truth, we quickly ascertained, was that she had been whipped, abused and used for some eight years as a brood bitch, no doubt for the owners of a puppy mill who callously got rid of her once she had reached the age of 8. They represented that she was 4 when left at the rescue location, and that they were “moving to Boston” where they wouldn’t have room for her.

This was all false. Ginger was about 8 years old when we got her. She gave us 4 years of the greatest joy imaginable.

Ginger was so full of life, so animated and always responsive, even to the smallest gesture. We would walk her in the large, off-leash dog park in Encino every morning. She loved every minute of her 4 years with us.

Suddenly, one dreadful morning this past March of ’07, she was unable to get up onto her feet. Her chest and rib cage were alarmingly swollen and she was having tremendous difficulty breathing.

We took her to our vet immediately, where we learned within the first 60 seconds of the initial exam, that her heart had become enlarge to 4 times the normal size. There were other associated abnormalities. Ginger was nearly DOA by the time that the vet took her first look at her. There was nothing that could be done. Ginger was euthanized right away.

Naturally, the shock was overwhelming. We still live with the loss to this very day. I keep Ginger’s leash hanging on my front doorknob and quietly, silently, I always greet her as I come in, or leave the house.

The only solace that we can find is knowing that if she had to endure 8 terrible first years of her life, we were able to provide a splendid last 4, and she returned the favor a hundred times over.

Thanks for listening to Ginger’s story.
Charlotte from CA

Our 14 year old golden retriever’s name is Shiloh’s Golden Nutmeg ‘n Irish Cream but we just call her “Meg”… or Meggie, Megster, Moogie, Pookie… well you get the picture. 

We so love this dog.  We bred her and her mom and a whole bunch of siblings.  We are true “Retriever Believers!”

Meg has had many health issues over the last several years all with what seems to be leading to an imminent death but dang if she doesn’t bounce back and once again become that playful, spontaneous, creative little play friend to our family.

What will we do without her?  Goldens don’t live forever do they?  We can’t think about it without becoming immediately wounded.  She loves us when we aren’t very lovable.  She cheers us when we are sad.  She comforts us when we feel alone.  We make every moment with this little member of our family a memory and treat/spoil her to all kinds of neat things.  We also tell her repeatedly she can never get in trouble anymore either so live it up! :D

So Sprite’s story is kindof Meg’s story.  We appreciate the opportunity to share her with The Great One and all his fans.

Kate from OR

To you my friends, I need to tell you that my dear canine companion and friend of 13 1/2 years, Carolina, had to be “put down” on Friday, December 10, 2004. She was nearly 17 years old.

Over the past months, her kidney/liver failure had increasingly made her uncomfortable and increasingly loose control of her body and her sense of dignity. Though agonizing to do, I decided to put her down twice earlier this year while she was experiencing some severe physical setbacks. Yet, each time, she seemed to truly know what was about to occur, and both times “miraculously” rallied all her energies and was “back to normal” … normal as a 17 year old dog could be — slow in moving, problems with back legs; but engaged in play and with her more recently adapted Shitzu “sister,” – “Star.” Much to my joy and surprise, Carolina’s will to live gave us almost an additional year together. Yet, when I came home from work on Thursday night, it was completely clear that waiting even a day or two or three more would have doomed her to a cruel death. There was no uncertainty about what needed to be done. I was comforting her throughout the night and she was comforted by Liva’ Snaps and my holding her and petting and talking to her until the final moment.
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