Harley was a soft tailed Springer, named after the bike. Our son, Dougie bonded with him during several extended recuperations from knee surgery and shoulder dislocatoins work layoffs. We had Harley for 13 years before cancer laid him so low we had to have the vet come an put him out of his misery as he laid on his dog bed, Dougie along side. The trauma of losing his dog, his job a month earlier, and his girlfriend just before that was too much for Dougie and he ended his life of 28 years on Easter Monday at the end of a rope in the garage. We never had time to grieve Harley, and Mark’s story has reminded us of just how big a part he played in his adopted family Never underestimate the influence you pooch has in your life.

Doug from MI

When my husband gave me your book, Rescuing Sprite, as a Christmas present, I really did not want to read it because I knew what the end was going to be and I have always avoided reading, listening, or seeing anything that involves the animals dying. I read it anyway. The book expressed my feelings about dogs exactly, and yes, I cried when you described Sprite’s end.

Our own ‘dog of dogs’, Buddy died two years ago at the age of 16. When I think of how we came to adopt him and all of the wonderful years we had with him, I miss him all over again. He was part border collie and something else. We adopted him from the RSPCA in York, England. I still remember the lady saying to Buddy as we left, “I will see you back here.” I replied, “No you won’t.”

The next hurdle was getting him past my husband because after the death of our last wonderful dog, Inu, he did not want to get attached again. However, after four years of bereavement, our two sons and I decided that it was time to get another dog. The problem was, how can we convince their father? The answer was simple – get Dad out of the house long enough for the dog to get settled in. At the time, we lived in England and we were always going off on trips to other countries to sight see and, in the winter time, to ski. Since Christmas was coming up, we decided to give Dad a week by himself on the slopes. When he came back and discovered Buddy (not without our trying to hide him until we could explain (wheedle, cajole)to him our feelings, The rest of the story you can guess and I am in the process of writing up. Read the rest of this entry »

Mr. Levin: I wanted to write to you upon finishing the last page of “Rescuing Sprite”. It is with appreciation, sadness and compassion that I write–to thank you for sharing your story of your beloved “Spritey.” Our dogs are like our ‘children’ and it is just as painful to lose our 4-legged friends and loving companions–but only those of us who have been there, can relate to the pain and grief–and you so wonderfully demonstrated that. I lost a 16 yr. old Black Lab terrier (my first dog ever); a ‘discarded’ 12 yr. old Irish Setter and a 14 yr. old Old English Sheepdog. The pain lessens, but never goes away. Sprite has crossed over to the “Rainbow Bridge” where all dogs meet and play, in health and happiness forever.

Jan from GA

It is my sad task to report on the passing of my best little pal for the last 9 years, Skinny the Cat. Skinny was her official name because when we first met, I took her to the vet for a checkup, and when the vet asked me for her name, I said:”…I don’t know…she’s a skinny little cat, so how about Skinny?”. Skinny was ordinary as far as cats go, just a simple black and white shorthair female I first met around Christmas in 1999 when I bought my house in Seaside. There was this feral cat hanging around the yard that wouldn’t let me get too close. There’s lots of gophers around here and I’d see her running along the fence in the back with a gopher she’s nabbed for dinner, and all the while we were together she was always on the lookout for that fresh meat for lunch. The gophers around here will be telling tales of the legend of the great black and white gopher hunter for a long time to come.

When the weather turned cold and rainy that year, I would see her on the roof of the house behind me huddled up next to the heater vent for some warmth. At that time my wood frame garage had a lot of rot damage in one corner that needed repair and I would go into the garage and Skinny would be in there sitting on my old pair of work shoes, but would bolt through the hole in the garage when I came in. This went on for 3-4 months.

Finally, I got a can of cat food, dumped it on the concrete path going into my yard, and left. Skinny ran over and inhaled it. I did this every day for a couple of weeks, each time getting a little closer and talking to her so she’d get used to me. After that, I inticed her into the house, and we’ve been pals ever since. That’s when we first went to the vet, who told me the cat was only about 18 months old and had already been fixed. How she got to be on her own living on the gophers in my yard I’ll never know.

Skinny was as loyal as any friend could ever be. She was always there ready to roll around on the couch for the daily “wrestling” match, to jump on my desk when I’m on the computer, to jump on my chest when I was watching TV, and constantly “telling” me about her day. Read the rest of this entry »

HEY MARK,
THIS IS BUTTONS AND MATTIE MY SWEET LITTLE POODLES!!
I RECEIVED YOUR AUTOGRAPHED SPRITE BOOK IN THE MAIL THE OTHER DAY SO NOW I’M READY TO READ IT! I’M SURE I’LL BE CRYING MY EYES OUT!! I LOST A POODLE THIS YEAR HER NAME WAS MISSY SHE WAS 14 YEARS!! I’M SO SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS OF SPRITE BUT HE COULDN’T HAVE GONE TO A BETTER HOME THAN YOURS!!
TAKE CARE MARK AND  GOD BLESS!!

HELEN FROM NC

Mark,
I also grew up in Cheltenham township; I learned we were neighbors in childhood when I was given Rescuing Sprite as a gift; which is an understatement. This book is a god send, and I will cherish your story forever. I rescued a dog from a shelter in Southern Illinois, maybe I should say the dog rescued me. I was in a deep depression, my marriage was falling apart due to lack of commitment, and understanding. My awesome friend Jayna peeled me off the sofa, and drove me, with her retrever to the local shelter. She stated we were not leaving with out a dog; this experience brought me to tears, how do I pick just one, there were so many, and all needed adoption. I had to leave to go outside to gather myself from an emotional breakdown. Jayna follwed me with her dog outside, and stated again we are not leaving until you adopt a dog.

From the first walk in and out there was only one dog in the shelter that was not barking, or jumping, she in my mind was as depressed as I was for different reasons; hers were worse, she was abandoned, unlove, unwanted. We took her out for a walk, and Sadie the retriver loved her from that very moment, as did I. I held her in my arms like a baby, as they suggest to know if the dog will trust you. My dog lay relaxed in my arms, and she was offically mine in this moment; papers signed. Mona Lisa is her name, she has mayballene eyes, and a smile to die for, she is a Dingo, a really honest to G-d full native american dog. Read the rest of this entry »