This is my little guy, his name is JR. I actually do not know how to describe how much he means to me. He was given to me by my ex-husband when he was only 6 weeks old.
He changed my life. I have chronic pain issues and was in a very deep depression before I got him. After I got him I started to move again and get up because I had to, to take care of him. He made me actually look forward to each day again.

He has been with me through the 3 most traumatic times in my life.
1. My divorce. Actually my ex gave him to me and then about 3 weeks later said he wanted a divorce because he couldn’t handle my pain issues.
2. He was my support when my mom and I were watching my Dad die of liver failure.
3. He was my support again while I was taking care of my Mom when she was dying of throat cancer.

It was really amazing how he knew when I was having a really hard time with things. He would always jump in my lap and start licking my face.

The last time I took him to the vet for his check up, the vet told me he heard a heart murmur. JR is eight years old now, and I felt my heart drop when he told me that. I don’t know how I will get through losing this little guy. He is the light of my life, and I know I will never find another one like him. Read the rest of this entry »

I am 77 years old and have had many dogs in my lifetime. I loved all of them, but some of them were unforgettable. Each time I had to have one euthanized, I swore I would never put myself through the loss again. The longest I ever went w/o a friend, was the last time — 3 months. I have always adopted unwanted dogs, either privately or through an organization. My finest bred dog, an Irish Setter, was adopted in 1950, through the old Ellin Prince Speyer Hospital in downtown NYC.

I found that I could not be w/o a dog after that last three months, so I went on-line to petfinder.com and decided to get in touch w/the Australian Shepherd Rescue people. All of my dogs before this were large ones, either Irish Setters or German Shepherds, or in the case of my last buddy, Blackjack, a Doberman/German Shepherd cross. Since I’m getting older, I figured I should go for a smaller breed. The first dog I came across, was an Aussie by the name of Katie, from West VA., who had been mistreated and was looking for someone to love and be loved by. I never looked further than Katie and she has been my buddy ever since, four years now.

Organizations like Aussie Rescue do a wonderful service to both dogs and people, by rescuing the dogs and finding good homes for them. I would suggest that instead of buying a puppy, folks consider giving a home to a wonderful and needy older dog.

Jacquelin from NJ

Mark,
Attached is a picture of Zeus and Chubbs taken in November. I lost my beloved bulldog (Chubbs) 2 days later due to complications during minor surgery. I’m trying to read your book, which was Christmas gift. I can only read 2 or 3 pages at a time, but it’s helping.
Thanks,

Terry from IN

Dear, Mark: The Book was hard to read but it made me feel good at the same time. If any of that makes sense. I admire a grown man not being afraid to show his emotions. My husband and I had to put our Sweet Nicole down six years ago and after reading your book it felt like yesterday. I didn’t want another dog. My husband explained it the same way you do in your book. You can’t have the joy without the pain.

We now have another Husky named Sierra. She has been a pill. But I wouldn’t change her. I tried not to compare them at first, but you do. It is only natural. But I love this one just as much, if not more. I read your book and she was next to me. I cried and cried and touched her everytime I would read your kind words about Sprite. I feel sorry for people that don’t know the love of a dog. That is the true meaning of the word. Thank you for writing this book. You are a special person that I am glad I got a chance to read about. I think we would have a better world if more people could love like our dogs.

Brenda from IL

Dearest Mark,

Thank you for writing “Rescuing Sprite”. My step-son Eddie got it for me for my birthday last November , mainly because I had “tuned” him into your show several years ago prior to your nationwide syndication. Eddie is a Texas Army National Guard Iraq war veteran and only 23 years old. He listens to you on his way home from work every day and he knew I would enjoy your writing because I’ve talked about “Men in Black” and your show many times. He is our pride and joy, joining the military shortly after his 17th birthday, which is 09/11. That 17th birthday in 2001 was a real eye opener for him and he felt he owed his country.

As I write this I’m listening to your Friday night show, while preparing a grave marker for our little Toy Fox Terrier, Roxy. I got her for my wife Wendy in November of 1995 for her birthday. The little thing could be held in the palm of your hand when we got her. She has been totally devoted to Wendy during all the years since.

Three years ago we realized that Roxy was becoming blind, but it really didn’t slow her down much. She knew her environment as well as Rush knows every inch of his “glorious naked body”.

Over the last year, Roxy also lost her hearing but, there was no way that you could sneak by her. Her little nose could find you in a heartbeat. Wendy and I both knew that the remaining numbers of Roxy’s days on Earth were being counted.
During this past week Roxy has gone down rapidly, becoming very disoriented and unable to bend down to her food dish. We placed her dish on top of a phone book to allow her to reach it without bowing her neck or placing too much pressure on her unsteady front legs. Read the rest of this entry »

Dear Mark.
Thanks for what you do! America needs your voice proclaiming the truth across the airwaves. You have the guts to tell it like it is! I’m not kissing your ass, I just wanted to tell you about Lucky. I would try to call you, but I would start bawling so bad, that no one would understand what I was saying, and that would not make for good air time, in fact, I only just started this and I can’t see the screen for the tears.

Perhaps you and the others who might read this will condemn me for what I have done. I hope not since I only did what I had to do. No one knows this, not even my family, though I suppose now they might if they read this. Here is Lucky’s story.
One evening in San Diego, on the way home from work, I stopped in at Chuey’s (great food, by the way, if your ever there, check it out!), for a few beers. After plate of nacho’s and a pitcher of beer, with my buddies, I started for the house. I got in the car, turned on the lights, put ‘er into gear, then I stopped. Down against the curb sat a paper bag. It moved! I sat a second, watching it, as there was no wind that evening. It moved again. After going over how many beers I had had, knowing I wasn’t imagining things, I looked again. It moved again! I got out of the car, picked up the bag, opened it, and low and behold, there was a puppy in it! He was young enough his eye’s weren’t even open yet. He whimpered softly, he was near death and I had almost run him over as I left (I think that was the intention of the person who left him there, may they rot in hell!). I brought him home, knowing my wife would kill me.

Surprise, surprise, she didn’t. She ask me what I was thinking, shook her head, and proceeded to bring that baby dog back to life as only a woman can. She just KNEW what to do. Lucky spent his first week in our bathroom (we lived in a 850 sq/ft apt, with 2 kids), but the girls loved it! They thought it was fun washing his poop down the drain of the bathtub. He opened his eyes and started growing. Then he moved outside, and thrived in the balmy weather of San Diego.

We never knew what breed he was. As a small pup, he looked like a Mastiff, but the older he got, the more he started looking like a German Sheppard. And a good dog he was! After he stopped crying the first week he was outside, he slept all night and played with the girls all day! They loved feeding him his bottles, he was much more fun than their baby dolls. We started to notice a slight limp from his hind quarters. He got around great, but we knew something wasn’t right. We later found out that he had hip dysphasia. It didn’t mater though, he was a member of the family. Read the rest of this entry »