In memory of my buddy Jake

a.k.a
“baby jake” (my wife’s gave him this one)
“putzer” (family joke)
Jacob (only used when he was in trouble)

No man could have asked for a better dog. He truly was a gift from God for us. This is not the best picture of him but it shows one of my favorite things about him. No matter what project I was up to, he also had to be right there. Here he is helping me dig (which he was very good at!). He was also good at spreading nuts, bolts, tools, screws, etc.. all around the barn and yard for me.

He loved attention of any sort and offered much more in return. He had a special look that no other dog I have had or seen could give. His big brown eyes would somehow reach deep inside you as if to say ‘you are the most important thing to me’. He would take playing ball or snuggling over food and any kind.

I know that I will see him again someday. I mean, how could a loving God pour out qualities such as unconditional love, faithfulness and loyalty into something and not have it continue on? Believe me I’m not out there in left field but I think there is a reason God put only two people in the Garden and a lot more animals (same with the Ark).

Our family will truly miss Jake. He has blessed us for 10 years and 4 months, which was way to short. Up until three months ago he acted like a puppy and would run and run and run all day and still wouldn’t want to come in. His spirit was willing but his body gave into a cancerous tumor on his lungs. We had the vet put him put down at home with the family talking to him and petting him. We buried him on the 20 acres he so love to run on.

WE LOVE YOU JAKE!

Robert from WI

P.S. Mark if you do read this, sorry but I have not been able to yet read you book. It came out the same time my Buddy Jake became sick. I’m hope in a couple of months I will be ready.

Dear Mark,

My friend gave me your book, “Rescuing Sprite” because I too have a rescue dog. Her name is Mochi. She’s a beautiful white poodle mix and is the light of my life. And, like Sprite, she has the most beautiful, soft fur I’ve ever felt.

Unfortunately, I have some very sad news. On 12/26/07, the day after Christmas, my dog sitter left the door open and let Mochi run away. I was across the country at the time visiting my family for the holidays in Wyoming (I live in Georgia) and immediately jumped on a plane that day to try to find her.

I hired a pet detective, have put flyers on mailboxes in every neighborhood in a 10 mile radius, put up 32 neon green and pink posters, contacted animal control and the shelters, put ads in the newspapers, and posted on every lost dog site I can find. I still have not found her. She still has not come home.

I am completely heartbroken and distraught. The pain I am feeling is unlike any that I could imagine. You see, my husband and I cannot have children, so my dogs are my children. Some people understand this and some don’t. That’s ok.

But, I haven’t given up hope and have faith in God and trust him completely. In the end, if he needs Mochi in heaven with him, I understand. It hurts so much but I understand.

Anyway, I guess I’m writing this because it gives me comfort to tell my story to a fellow dog lover. I know you can understand how I feel.

Thank you for your book and your work for rescue dogs. I know that those who read your story will be uplifted by it. Hopefully, I’ll have some good news one day to share with you about Mochi’s return.

Thank you.

Toi  from GA

I am an animal lover. I am on my 2nd cat in almost 4 years. I love dogs also but my living situation would not be great for a dog. I am an adamant promoter of adopting homeless animals. I believe they know that they have been rescued an appreciate all we do for them.

I adopted a beautiful cat back in 2003 after my father died. I just felt I needed something alive to respond to me when I’m at home. I knew he had a heart condition which, at the time, I didn’t realize how serious it was. I too used Old Mill Vet Hospital and they are terrific there. I used the boarding facilities also which are great. The cardiologist wanted Domino to have medications but Domino grew to distrust me as a result so I decided that quality was more important than the quantity of his life. He was happy and didn’t appear to be stressed by his condition and the medicines weren’t going to change the outcome, even the least bit, so I stopped them. It broke my heart for him to not trust me but that quickly changed and he knew that I was listening to him. He was with me when he died, only 3 days before Christmas in 2004. I will never forget that day it was so devastating for me but he never suffered. I still miss him and shed tears for him on a regular basis. He was so grateful for his home with me and it was a priviledge for me to provide that home. I would do it again in a heartbeat he was so awesome.

Now I have Abby and I’ve had her for 2 years. She was abused and mistreated which makes me so sad. How people can be so cruel to another living creature but she is gradually coming out of her shell and a lot less anxious. I love her!! I believe God places these loving souls exactly where they need to be so that they can help us as well as we help them. I loved your book about Sprite, I just finished it. I used to think I was over reacting and being silly but we can’t help the way we feel and time does heal, we shouldn’t rush it.

Debbi from VA

I just read Resuing Sprite yesterday and it really hit home to me in more ways than one. We resuced our dog Sandi back in 1995 and she was the most beatiful dog we had ever seen. From what we could tell it looked like she had been abused by the man from her prior household but she turned around pretty quickly. We were lucky to have for 11 years but last year she starting suffering with problems with her hips.

We brought her to the vet and we ended up putting her on riimadayl. It work for a while but in the end of November of 2006 it seemed like it was not working anymore. She had a hard time getting up from a lying position and she had trouble going up and down stairs. It got to the point where my husband had to bring her outside and hold her up so she could go to the bathroom. We tried other medication along with some pretty strong pain medication but nothing seemed to be working. I was also dreading the day when we would have to make the decision that we were now facing but looking at Sandi and seeing the pain she was in I knew we had no choice. The vet pretty much said that there was nothing else we could do but keep her comfortable with the pain medication but that was not the way I wanted to see Sandi the last years of her life. That was not her.

So we made our decision on December 3, 2006 that we would have her put to sleep the following day. We got her something special for dinner that Sunday night and I got up a made the hardest phone call I ever had to make in my life. Sandi never liked the vet and I did not want the last moments of her life at a place she was afraid of. The vet came to our house and as did Mark and his wife we put Sandi in her special spot for when the time came. That was and still is the worst day of my life. Sandi was my baby and not a day goes by that I do not think of her and wish there was something more we could of done to keep her alive. Sandi was put to sleep 3 days before Sprite at about the same time. My heart goes out Mark and his family. I know exactly how they feel.

Linda from VT

I heard about Rescuing Sprite on Sean Hannity’s show.

My wife brought home a beagle from a pet rescue 5 years ago. We were told that Katie was 8, turns out she was 10 and from a bad past. We were committed to making up for Katie’s bad past.

Katie brought tremendous joy to our house, along with a few challenges. She came to be a companion for Benny, a beagle that we have had since he was a pup. Benny was 3 when we brought Katie home. The 2 immediately bonded.

A few months ago, we almost lost Katie, that’s when I realized that time may be short. I decided to help prepare I would order Mark’s book for my wife and give it to her for Christmas.

On Christmas Eve, we took both Benny & Katie to the vet for Benny’s annual, and a follow up visit for Katie and what we thought was a urinary tract infection. Katie had recently not been as hungry as normal, and had been turning her nose up at food, very unlike a beagle!

The vet took the urine sample, looked at Katie’s gums and noticed that they were not a pink as they should be, and he found high levels of creatine in her urine. He recommended an MRI.

We took Katie immediately to have the MRI, and the vet’s worst fears confirmed. Her spleen had been bleeding into her abdomen, and she had masses on her liver. When I asked how long, he said 1-day to 1-week. We were crushed, not the news that you want on Christmas. We committed to take Katie home and spoil her like normal, and try to keep her comfortable until she passed on her own. We didn’t want to have to put her down unless she was in great pain.

I gave Mark’s book to my wife that evening as part of her Christmas gifts, and we both sobbed uncontrollably. She began reading the book immediately.

My wife finished the book on Saturday night, Katie was in bed between us, where she always slept, and Benny was at the foot of the bed.

Around 3:30 AM Sunday, I woke up, not sure why, Katie was still there, breathing very shallow. A few moments later she looked at me and took her last breath. At least she was with us, in her favorite place. We fell short of 5 years by 1-month, but we know she had a great 5-years, what a great friend & companion. We miss her terribly.

Thank you Mark, for your book. It comforted my wife more than I can say.

Keep up the great work you do on your radio program!

Dan from IL

I don’t remember how my first dog, Snuffy, died but I’ll never forget how Blackie and Bridie died. Blackie attacked the rear tire of a moving car and it rolled over him. Many years later Bridie got sick and my parents had to “put her down” while I was away at school. I witnessed Blackie’s very painful death which didn’t happen immediately after the accident. The car and driver sped off totally unaware of what had happened. I saw Blackie attack the tire, heard him yelp, and ran to him as quickly as I could. I didn’t know what to do but I knew that my father would know, so I ran to find him.
I was seven and we were living in Bayport, Long Island. We had recently moved to a house after living in an apartment and I was thrilled to live in my new home. For one thing, it was new. It smelled new, it looked new and it was as bright and shiny as I was. I had a fort in the backyard and a tree house both of which my Dad had helped build. For Christmas the year Blackie died I had gotten a Roy Rogers western outfit set complete with a cowboy hat, a tooled leather belt with holster and a pearl handled six-shooter. Added to this I had a red Hook and Ladder pedal car. Dad had even made a push-pole that he would use to “power” my car and make it go like stink. I may have not been the coolest kid on the block but I thought I was. But what good are all these things without a
friend to share them with. That friend was my dog Blackie.
An Imperfect Plan 3

Blackie helped me defend my fort from Indian attacks. He followed me every time I raced to put out three alarm fires. He helped me track down stray cattle lost in the arroyos. Wherever I went, Blackie was my sidekick. We had a big field behind our house that belonged to my grammar school and we used to play there every day. I would throw a stick and Blackie would bring it back. I would throw it again and he would bring it back again. I could throw it underhand, overhand, behind my back, anyway I could throw it he would bring it back. Neither of us tired of our roles: I would throw, he would fetch. It was a law of nature to a boy of seven. Life was so good for this lad and his dog, that is, until the day the car drove by and quickly sped off.
I found my Dad in the house and he wrapped Blackie in a blanket and we brought him closer to the house. Whimpering in pain, he died in our arms before we could get him to the veterinarian. When Blackie died I didn’t know how to deal with it. Being raised as a Catholic I knew that when you die, God welcomes you to heaven. I assumed that Blackie would be there waiting for me when I died. I asked my Mom about this and she said, “Only people go to heaven”. In response to my cries about where would Blackie go she said, “He’ll go to pet heaven”. Was this true or was she just trying to make me stop crying? Worse than losing Blackie was the shock that God didn’t want my pal to be in heaven with me.
“He doesn’t have a soul”, my Mother said as she tried to comfort me. To her, this was why we were chosen by God to go to heaven: we had souls. I didn’t want a soul at
that point, I wanted my dog. Read the rest of this entry »