Mark Levin shares his family’s story of love and loss.

National Review Online
November 5, 2007

Mark R. Levin says he’s just done “the most important thing I’ve done in my career.” As his friends know, that’s not a line to sell a book with, it’s something he’s been saying for over a year, as he’s worked on, and lived, his new book (released this week)…  Read full interview here.

With the passing of a beloved pet, some of us write prose, and others may resort to verse, as I did.

I adopted a great big black tuxedo cat at the ASPCA on E. 92nd Street in Manhattan, and enjoyed him for 14 years, till he passed away.

The following is his requiem:

QUIESCET PERCY

On this day we come to bury
This noblest cat of wide acclaim.
We send him off on Charon’s ferry
Percy is his loved name.

Many greats do make this passing,
As brave Odysseus, full of tricks.
Beware this feline’s wide amassing.
Prepare to flood now, River Styx.

Aristocrats and cats, you’ll find,
When Percy be amongst your stead,
His purring is a one of kind,
And indeed shall wake the dead.

Planets shake and worlds collide.
Mountains quake and maelstroms stir.
Oceans flood and lands divide.
Nothing soothes like Percy’s purr.

All yee dwellers in Pluto’s realm,
Comes a high-born cat’s repose.
Furry-white tummy blinds Charon’s helm.
This bark’s led by big pink nose.

Great white whiskers, big white snout.
Great green eyes headlight this boat.
Shiny fur and body stout.
Great big black tuxedo coat.

The boat has landed, other side.
His journey finished, life complete.
Percy sure enjoyed the ride.
He jumps right off on big white feet.

-Clint , Percy’s adopter from NY

Last night I finished reading “Rescuing Sprite.” What a great love story. My heart goes out to you and your family.

In 1993 my wife and I lived in London, England for two years while working for Emerson Electric. At that time we bought a puppy in Wales—-a Welsch springer spaniel, who we named Llyswen after a town in Wales.

In January of 2006 my wife died from colon cancer. Then in April of that year I developed Graves Disease. I got so sick that I could no longer take care of Llyswen. Fortunately, I found a vet in Springfield, Illinois who is a breeder of Welshies and she agreed to take Llysen.

Not a day goes by that I do not think of Llyswen and wonder how she is doing in her new home. Like you, I miss her terribly.

Give a big hug to Griff

Now I know why Sean Hannity calls you “THE GREAT ONE.”

Best regards and thanks for a great read

Pete from Missouri

Meet my best friend Rudy who is a 6 month old Havanaese. It’s been years since I’ve owned a pet and I struggled with the thought of owning a another dog. However, ever since I brought this little guy home, I can’t imagine being without him. Rudy brings much happiness to my wife and I.

James from MD

Yes, I’ve had to make that hard decision, too. To let a close friend go rather than watch her suffer.

I grew up with dogs. The first dog I remember was a Shepard mix; Princes. I couldn’t have been more than six or seven. We always had dogs, mostly big ones, though. We even had a St. Bernard. I still remember the Thanksgiving turkey she half devoured. It was fresh from the oven and cooling on the counter. Mom was in tears.

When my kids were ten and five, I knew how they would benefit from a family dog, but I remembered the destruction the dogs I grew up with caused in my father’s house. I never considered a small dog. Small dogs were for old women and small men. My ego wouldn’t let me go there.

Then my daughter, after months of campaigning, wrote a school paper on the care of a family dog. It was laced with subtle hints that would ‘help me’ to change my mind. I came home one day to find a very energetic dark tan colored hound tied to the back porch. Both kids were desperately pleading ‘Chocolate’s’ case. “We will take care of him, Dad, you’ll see, he won’t get into trouble, Pleeeease, can we keep him?”
Read the rest of this entry »

 After we had to have our dog Henry put to sleep in 1993 because of an inoperable tumor, we adopted Freckles (he had freckles on his nose) from an animal shelter in 1994. He was a Cocker Spaniel mix and had a beautiful coat. We didn’t know how old he was, but the Vet assumed he was 5 years old.
He loved to go for walks to the big park where there is a river. The dogs are allowed to run there without a leash. So my husband would let him run and he would examine every bush. If he saw a rabbit and it would dash into a bush, he would try to find him, but never did. He would dig and dig, but no luck. He also would try to catch a frog in the river and was determined to get one. After many trips to the park, he finally did, but immediately spit it out. Guess it didn’t taste too good after all.
One night he got sprayed by a skunk in our back yard. When I let him in the house, the smell was awful, as you can imagine. He was rolling on the carpet to try to get the smell off. I had to wake my husband and we gave him a bath, but the smell was still there, It eventurally went away, but I had to have the carpet cleaned.

Read the rest of this entry »