Presently we have two dogs, candy and cola. Our first dog Pepsi died May 25,2000 and I still miss her. We adopted Candy only to find our that she is deaf, has water on the brain and a deformed skull. We were told that she would live a year, but now she is still around 7 years later.When we livewd in Indiana we toke her to Purdue to find out that she was 20% deaf, able to hear sounds of high pitches but not able to understand what she hears. Our third dog , Sammie who is deceased was a 7 1/2 yo Maltese which my wife found wondering across a busy highway. She brought him home and discovered that he was covered with feces and was frightened. We cleaned him and proceeded to call area vets to find out if a lost and found notice was posted. The next day we took him to our vet and found out that whoever had him threw him out of a moving car and cracked his spine. He also had spots on his back that looked like freckles, however they were cigarette burns. I am choked up just talking about it. After about a year and half of enjoying him it started to have a health problem. For 6 straight days we took him to our vet but never was able to assertain what the problem was. On the seventh day he had a tough time breathing so we rushed him to the emergency vet office at 8 p.m. They took him in the back and placed him in an oxygen box and he seemed better.
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Fawn is a standard chihuahua that I purchased from a pet shop as an anniversary present for my wife. She may have been a present for my wife but she quickly became part of our family. Fawn always greets me and my wife when we return home from work and no matter how hard the day was, she knows how to bring a smile to our face.

One of Fawn’s favorite things to do is taking rides in the car. She especially likes to tag along when we go to the drive-thru to pick up something to eat. I think she has an alterative motive though since she also loves french fries and usually gets a few to eat on the way home. However, one fateful night we did not make it to the drive-through.

It was in August of 2001. We had just returned home from visiting my dad in the hospital. He was facing surgery the next day to have his leg amputated due to complications brought on from diabetes. Since it was late, we decided to go get something to eat and, as usual, Fawn wanted to go along.
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Little Harry came into our lives in October 2003. He had somehow appeared in our backyard one afternoon, confused and freightened. We assume he had been heartlessly abandoned. As the weeks following his arrival we took out ads in the local newspapers and posted fliers all over town that we had found their beagle. A couple of weeks after we took him in (while awaiting his owners to call and claim their lost family member) he ran out of a gate left opened by a landscaper. We were very upset but to our relief, somehow Harry found his way back to our front door 5 days later (probably came to his senses about how good he would have it with us).

We named him Harry after the famous escape artist Houdini. After months of flier posting and newspaper ads, nobody had called us to claim little Harry. We assume he had been abused as any time we tried to pet his head he would flinch with fear. His teeth were also neglected and he has a multitude of health impairments including severe allergies (inlcluding snorting and sneezing episodes) which require an expensive (but completely worthwhile) regime of medications. Harry is the trouble makers of all trouble makers, as many beagles are, but we adore him and he has garnered the nickname “Prince Harry” because of the Royal Treatment we give him. He is my little baby and has turned a grown man into a giant mush! I am blessed to have Harry in my life. I snapped this photo the day after Thanksgiving as I took a short break from reading Rescuing Sprite. I came back into my bedroom and there was Harry cozying up next to the book. I thought it was fitting! :-)

James from NY

Mark, I am 62 yrs young and my husband is 76 yrs young. I have had only four pets in my life. And what a joy. My first dog, a tiny toy poodle, Pooh, and yellow Tabby, Cat. Pooh lived to be 14 yrs and Cat 23. I swore I wound not have another pet, it was heart breaking to lose them both.

But six months later I found a 2 mo old border collie mix. Took her home and I husband had a fit. She was everthing we didn’t want, long haired, and was absolutely crawling with fleas. We cleaned her up and of course I wanted to name her, but my husband wanted none of it. “We are NOT keeping this dog, let her NEW owner name her”. We just referred to her of “Girl” dog; and it stuck. Three years later we moved to farm in Caldwell, TX. Girl bacame a real country dog and loved every minute of it. She and my husband became “attached” at the hip. We reaised miniature donkeys and she helped herd (donkeys don’t need herding) and also help with the neighbor’s cows.
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Donna and I lost our dear beloved pet of 11 years, Ricky-Bear, on Monday. He had been seriously ill for a long time so we knew it was coming. His condition worsened through the fall and hearing Mark and all the other people’s stories was both a comfort and a tremendous source or strength for us as we prepared for the inevitable.

Of course, we knew he was dying. We had imagined that we could keep him comfortable and see to it that he didn’t suffer badly. At the end, we couldn’t. By the last full day, Sunday, none of the things we had been doing to alleviate his suffering worked anymore. There was no amount of medication we could humanely get into him that would take away the pain that came with the very last stage of the little bear’s illness. At that point we took him to the vet first thing Monday morning and had the doctor end his suffering.
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Murray was not a shelter dog, but he was rescued. We were directed to him, by a Sheltie rescue organization in California. At the time we lived in New Jersey. The caller asked us if we knew were Bridgewater NJ was. It so happened it was right up the road. We found Murray tied to a tree. He was the leftover of a marriage gone south. The women said “just take him” he’s good for nothing. She had two kids; I always wondered what she did with them. For the 1st year Murray was a handful, he was a runner. If you left a door ajar, he was gone. A few times he got out and we needed to scour the neighborhood for him. One day it dawned on him and he finally realized he had a forever home. He was great, we loved him. Memorial Day weekend 1999. I discovered his lymph nodes were enlarged. Took him to the Oncology Vet and was told he had Lymphoma, stage 3. She explained our options but was not overly hopeful. Murray was put on Chemo. He accepted it like a champ and the Chemo worked. His cancer went into remission. There is no cure for Lymphoma, your just buying time, in an unknown quantity. During this time marching band season started. We worked with one high school marching band, with their music and marching. We discovered Murray had found his calling on earth. Murray insisted on going to the practices. Without any direction from us he started working with the kids, keeping them in their lines. He lived for these rehearsals. He was so energetic and alive. This went on 3 months. Literally right after the season ended, his cancer returned. We knew chemo was not an option. We could only make him comfortable. Enter “Jake” another rescued Sheltie; actually Murray had picked him out of a shelter we visited one day. I firmly believe each dog has a calling on earth.
Jake’s is caregiver. When Murray was having a bad day I’d find Jake “spooned” around his brother, trying to comfort and take away his pain. One cold January morning I came down stairs, Murray was not about. I checked his bed. Our eyes met and he said it’s time. We took him to our vet. Holding him our arms the serum was administered and we let him pass over the rainbow bridge to be with the ones who have gone before him. Our vet allowed us to take Murray home. We took him home, laid him out on our living room floor. Why you wonder. Well we had/have other shelties. Dogs are pack animals, they know when one is missing and need closure, just as we do. The others we had at the time circled around Murray, sniffed and sat there. After awhile they left. They needed to say goodbye as well.
Another thing to keep in mind for each dog that enters your life which you share and then passes. They have a big influence on the next one you’re directed too. Just because your beloved has passed doesn’t mean you stop. At the right time another will enter your life filling it with more joy. Be open to your heart and the memories of your “best” friend.

Mik in Las Vegas