Mischa came into my life 12 years ago, as a 2-year-old stray. A friend found her, freezing and hungry, in a Brooklyn parking lot. I adopted her after she was “turned down” by others who wanted a kitten. I’m ever thankful for that turn of events. She was a great comfort, especially during the months after September 11, 2001. Our pets have a sixth, seventh and eight sense . . . they know when we need them most. I lost Mischa to cancer on May 1 of this year. I’m still stunned by the void in my life. At night I hear phantom paw sounds, and if I know my Mischa, she’s comforting me from afar. I will always cherish the 12 years she lived here and made his house a home. Thank you, Mischa and sweet dreams!

— Liz from New York, NY

We rescued “Tucker” from the county shelter two hours before he was scheduled for euthanasia. Reason: he had a pronounced limp in his right rear leg, which was probably also the reason he had been “dumped” at the shelter. His estimated age was about nine months. We did not know if his injury was due to abuse, or being hit by a car, but we knew we had rescued an extremely fearful dog who was also an extremely handsome, ginger-colored Shepherd-Chow mix, intelligent, soulful and immediately endearing. Slowly, he bonded with our two Scotties and lowered his guard – but never completely. We gained his trust and his affection gradually. An x-ray of his right hip revealed a break that had begun to heal in the form of a “false joint.” It also revealed the common Sheperd affliction of hip displasia. Within a month, however, Tucker was walking and running normally. He was also learning to play and to interact with his canine and human pack. Alas, despite reactive and other training, his fear of strangers persisted, manifested by occasional lunging at passersby on walks and growling at anyone who entered his house. But when when we gaze into his beautiful, grateful brown eyes or receive his sloppy kisses, we know we made the right decision. After two+ years, we’re still working on his fear/aggression issues, but Tucker is an integral member of our pack, now and always.

— Tim from Tucson, AZ

One look into his beautiful blue eyes, and his name became obvious. Frank was our dog-cat. He was a very handsome Siamese mix; a rather large boy who weighed about 18 lbs when he was full grown. He was delivered to us at home by a stray who’d adopted us about 6 weeks prior.

Frank would follow me everywhere, he’d come running across the yard at full speed when I called his name, and he would sleep with us every night stretched out full length beside me, completely relaxed. He was our constant companion, going everywhere with us, including several vacations to the San Juan Islands on our classic cruiser.

My husband had never been a “cat person” until Frank. Frank and he bonded one day when Frank’s mother decided to bring a still-alive large mouse into our kitchen. She dropped it onto the floor, then ran to her own food dish as if to say, “Here, I brought your something to eat. While you work on this, I’ll go finish the stuff in my food dish.” The mouse sat there stunned for only a moment, then disappeared behind the breakfast counter. Knowing that Frank was an experienced mouser who loved to catch mice out in our field, I found Frank and brought him into the kitchen. He zeroed in almost immediately on the mouse who had run up the leg of a stool. Frank sprung into action, chasing the mouse around the kitchen, out into the living room, down the stairway and into the basement behind the bar. After a couple of minutes of crashing and squeaking, Frank emerged with the deceased mouse. Karl suddenly had a new appreciation for Frank and they became bonded friends for the rest of his life with us.

We lost Frank on January 18, 2008. He’d gone outside for his usual morning exercise, but that day he didn’t come back as usual. I called and called for him, but he never came. I began to sense that something was wrong, so I went looking for him. I walked around the outside of the house calling his name and, as I rounded the house by the carport where we stored our motorhome, I heard him meow in response. I looked under the motorhome and saw him laying there, but he wouldn’t get up to come to me. My nephew happend to be visiting at the time, so he crawled under the motor home to retrieve Frank. When he brought Frank out, we discovered why he hadn’t come out on his own. Frank had evidently suffered a catastrophic stroke that had paralyzed his hindquarters. His body was completely cold from the midsection all the way down. We rushed him to our vet, but since his circulation had been completely cut off from the middle of his spine, there was no hope in saving him and we had to put him down that terrible day. I don’t know how he’d managed to drag himself under the motorhome, but he did and had managed to stay alive until I was able to find him. We’re so thankful for the 10 years we had with him and I still miss him so much.

— Lois from Shelton, WA

I thought you would enjoy hearing about our latest Rescued Italian Greyhound – Mariah. She has great “taste” in literature. In fact, she has eaten both Liberty & Tyranny and Rescuing Spright! She pulled both out of a pile of books! She seems to enjoy your books so much that I put your dad’s book up out of the way quickly so she couldn’t see the name Levin on the cover.
She came from an abusive BYB program in WI so we excuse some of her odd behaviors. She was afraid of the world and we have worked to make her a happy little girl!
She is the cute little red girl looking the opposite direction in the picture. that’s our Mariah.
The other two girls are Sadie who is 13 and was rescued at age 6 and Annabelle (Annie) who we adopted at 7 months from Rescue. Sadie and Annie are both registered Therapy Dogs and go to two nursing homes and a psych hospital every week. It’s a great thing to be able to help people through my dogs.

— Doreen in Vernon, VT