My name is Kylie and I am 9 years old. I live in Florida. I had a dog named Samson.  He was a mix of German Shepherd, Doberman, and Grey Hound..He was the best dog ever. Whenever there was a snake in the yard or close by he would alert us so that we would know to be aware and careful. One bright blue morning as we walked outside to get him, he did not seem well. We loaded him into the car and took him to the vet. He could not walk or stand up so we had to carry him into the vet’s office. The vet told us what was wrong. There were too many things going on inside his body not even the richest person could save him.We sat with him for at least 3 hours sobbing our eyes out. Finally we had to leave and not even 5 minutes later we got a call saying he went into cardiac arrest. the doctors tried to save him…but it was to late she picked up the phone and said”we are sorry but Sampson is gone”. i was sobbing . he was the one who brought us our chocolate lab buddy i will never forget him i still cry in school

— Kylie from Panama, FL

Smokey was my cat, not I should write anything here.  But….I essentially rescued Smokey who was about 1 year old grey tabby cat who was no longer wanted by her owner.  Odds of being allergic to her where high, my father and brothers are deathly allergic to cats.  I soon found out, I too was deathly allergic.  None the less, I took her in and we became great friends.  Smokey wasn’t too social, until she decided it was ok.  Smokey didn’t like my reading the newspaper or a book, loved being outside and occasionally would drop off a gift for me at my back door.  Sadly I had to put her down last summer and miss her abundantly!  I miss her greeting me at the back door when I come home from work and her lying at the end of the bed at the end of the day.  Pets bring us so much joy and they love so unconditionally.  Thanks for letting me share about my cat.  Miss her much.

— Regina from Twinsburg, OH

Miss Lucy was my service dog for many years. I adopted her when first diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic. She was in a shelter and seemed so scared. But it wasn’t long before she was home with me and being the “lady” of the home.

Over the years she helped me in many ways. From accompanying me on my walks, to fetching  my glucometer when I was in such a fog from low blood sugar that I couldn’t get my own testing supplies.

Last year I had to say goodbye to Miss Lucy. It was one of the most difficult moments of life. She had acquired stomach cancer and was wasting rapidly, and was losing the use of her hind legs as well, due to RA. The vet suggested I put her down rather than allow her to waist and be in pain.

She slipped off quickly…too quickly. I barely got to say goodbye and she was gone.

But I am convinced I will see her again one day. And when that time comes, neither she nor I will be ill.

Goodbye my dear Miss Lucy. And thank you for taking care of me. I only wish I could have had more time with you.

She was 17 years old.

— Leah from Ft. Worth, TX

Our GSD Frekkie “Fangs” passed away this weekend.  She was 10 years old.  Frekkie was the name we gave her – Frekkie was one of Odin’s pet wolves.  We adopted Frekkie from a rescue shelter in VA; 3 years ago.  That story is worth remembering.  The shelter  location was rural with a long driveway.  As we approached, Frekkie came off the porch and walked right up to me.  She looked me in the eye and “In dog language” let me know she wanted OUT.  She sat at my side and did her best to maintain eye contact.  She stayed with me when we met the property owner, and remained there during our entire visit – occasionally taking the initiative to show me her dog skills: sit, stay, down, beg, high five, etc….

We originally came to see another dog.  Frekkie was placed into a kennel while the target dog was released.  Frekkie began barking – NOOOO!  Take me!!!  Not that one!  I’m way better.  She paced nervously in the kennel, while the target dog behaved poorly.  Frekkie raced to my side when the other dog returned to the kennel.  Frekkie followed me when I went to obtain paperwork from the truck.  She jumped inside and with a sheepish grin said:  “Nice truck…  This is Cool, right? I promise you won’t regret this.”  I looked at my wife and said – I guess we have our dog.

Frekkie came to live with us and immediately took possession of the property – she was a fearless protector and loyal companion.  After her arrival, our family and friends had to wait in their cars until we retrieved them.  Her protective nature provided my wife much comfort.  Frekkie was a very expressive and communicative dog.  She would all make her displeasures known, should we not provide sufficient attention – this  included affections between me and the wife.  Frekkie was a little jealous and did not appreciate my loving my wife and not her.  Howling and moving between us conveyed her message – What about ME?

Frekkie recently provided us a pair of puppies.  They are beautiful and the spitting image of their mom.  My wife constantly nagged Frekkie to get pregnant – we also have a fine male GSD.  Sure enough, Frekkie did what she was asked – as she always did.  She was weak after the delivery (C-section) and never fully recovered. We unexpectedly learned she had contracted spleen cancer when her lethargy became acute.  4 days passed from diagnosis to death.  She passed quietly in her sleep.  May God bless her on the next leg of her journey.

— Dave from Newburg, MD

This is a picture of Mumzie, a border collie mix my wife talked me into adopting at our local Petsmart in May 2004.  That particular day, our 16 year old son was teasing my wife relentlessly calling her “mumzie” with a British accent.   It was a weekend and we generally would spend the days window shopping at the local malls.  We ended up at the Petsmart to buy cat food.  The local SPCA was holding it’s pet adoption that day and were camped out front of the store with about 20 dogs.  The kids and my wife stopped to admire them while I went into the store to buy the “cat” food.   Although reluctant, I agreed to this little bundled my wife presented to me in her hands in the middle of the store.  But agreed I did and with amusement, my son suggested MUMZIE for her name.  I have had dogs all my life and actually spent 3 years as a K-9 officer with our local police department.  It had been about 3 years between our last family dog and that day.  (Our beagle “bandit” who had died 3 years earlier is a whole other story)  Mumzie, immediately took to me and would follow me everywhere.  Although she was only 6-7 weeks old, she didn’t need any house breaking.  She took to her kennel without any trouble and never once, whined or cried.  She instantly got along with our cats, who adopted her as well.  I knew she was special.
I never knew how much she would mean to me, which is the rest of the story.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was suffering from a bone marrow condition.  The aches and pains, fatigue and general malaise, I contributed to just getting old. By June 2004, one month later, I was in the hospital with a life threatening and career ending platelet count under 5000.   After a week of treatment and blood transfusions, I was stable enough to go home but with instructions “not to do anything”, even drive in a car.  The risk of any kinds of trauma was still too great.  Any injury could kill me.   Needless to say, I was in a deep depression, while at the same time, thankful to be alive.  Mumzie was a big part of that.  While the wife worked and the kids were at school, Mumzie was my constant companion.  She never left my side,  (a still doesn’t) and made the hours spent at home bearable.  Friends and family really don’t know how to act in those types of situation and although they would  willingly come to help, it is stressful to be “fussed” over.  I would actually sneak out the house to take her for her walks. (against doctor’s order no less) To this day (8 years later) we walk every day, twice a day.  We are a regular fixture in our neighborhood.  I am convinced the walks saved my life.  Not just for the physical exercise but also for what would took place in July 2005.    At that point, doctors were discussing the necessity of a bone marrow transplant since the ordinary treatments being tried were not working effectively.  That transplant would require three months of seclusion in the hospital’s clean rooms since I would have to undergo total body radiation that would kill my immune system.  After all of the prep work was completed, I was to meet with the doctor to schedule the actual transplant.  In the course of that meeting, the doctor felt impelled to remind me that there was only a 50/50 chance this would work, but he also wanted me to understand that after the 3 months, I would still have to go home to a “sterile” house which meant no pets.   I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t abandoned Mumzie!  After much deliberation, I postponed the transplant indefinitely.  That was July 2005.  One month later, August 28, 2005, Hurricane Katrina hit, flooding the very hospital I was scheduled to be secluded in.  The very hospital that hospital staff abandoned patients to die.  That is a true story!   Thankfully, with a lot of prays, exercise, dieting and mega doses of a vitamin formula I found, I am in remission.  In 2007, after 22 years of marriage, my wife and I separated and later divorced,  She readily admits part of the reason was because of Mumzie.  Be that as it may, no one will ever understand what Mumzie means to me.  It goes beyond simply her being  a man’s best friend and companion.  Don’t know how to explain it.  I am tearing up as I write this.  She means that much to me!  I hope my story will inspire someone to take home their “special” companion.

— Conan from New Orleans, LA

My dog Buster died on July 7, 2011, after a great life. He was almost 16 years old. He was born October 5, 1995, 100 years and one day after silent screen comedian Buster Keaton.  Like The Great Stone Face, my Buster was often running — he didn’t smile — and he wasn’t much of a talker. But he understood everything I said to him, his face and eyes told you everything you needed to know.  I know someday we’ll meet up again.

— Edward from Morganville, NJ