I have just finished reading “Rescuing Sprite” and wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed it. My father, a fan of yours, bought it for me knowing how much I loved my dog. Four years ago I, like you Mark, had to make that awful decision to put my dog down. Her name was Samantha (Sam) and she was 1/2 chow and 1/2 minuature collie. She looked like a large black fox. I adored her. She was my constant companion through my 20’s. When she was about 11 she was diagnosed with Cushins disease which is a benign tumor on pituitary gland. It made her ravenously hungry and thirsty. It was somewhat controllable with medicine and gave me 3 additional years with her. In the end I knew it was time when one morning she was unable to stand. Though I knew the day was coming it was not any easier to do and a very sad day. Like you Mark, I had a vet who came to my home and I was able to hold her in my arms as she passed away. I will never forget the moment the vet carried her out the door wrapped in a blanket. My brother, Dorian, came over and held my hand and prayed for her soul. I found a wonderful miniature hope chest and wood burned her name into the top. I put her toys, blanket, leash, bowl..and ashes into it. I then typed up a list of all her wonderful qualities and put it in the box. It was my way of saying goodbye. Someday I will open that box and smell her blanket for her ‘essence’ but not now. Maybe when the years pass and the pain has lessened. Perhaps when I am 90. Thank you for sharing your story with us. It made me remember my beloved dog again. You see, mostly its too painful for me to think about…so I don’t. I needed your book to rememeber and for the first time in 4 years I could close my eyes and remember exactly how her fur felt in that special place she liked me to scratch.. behind her ears.

— Amy from Little Egg Harbor, NJ

My dog is named Trip and I adopted him when he was six weeks old. He was the cutest little furball I had ever seen and it was almost like I had a child to raise. I was twenty one years old and he was the first dog I had that I was completely responsible for. When I was twenty two I bought a house and had to keep him on a tie down for the first year and a half until I fenced in my property, during which time he got loose on two separate occasions and arrested on one. I picked up Trip from animal control on my lunch break, within hours of his arrest; Outside of his incarceration it seemed like he had great joyride in the neighborhood, minus the hundred sticker burrs I brushed out of him later that afternoon. I paid $100.00 to bail him out of doggie prison that day and incurred another $150.00 fine along with a tongue lashing from a municipal judge insinuating that I didn’t take good care of my pet because my property wasn’t fenced in at the time. While I admit, it wasn’t ideal for a dog with his spirit, we had to work with the choices I made and we persevered all the stronger.

Not long after that, with the help of friends I fenced in my entire property (approx 1/2 acre) and Trip was set free. I had previously been broken into twice and it now seemed that Trip was taking just as good care of me as I was him. Living in a lower income neighborhood houses are broken into frequently and lawn tools (mowers & weed eaters) are a dime a dozen, but my problems like that quickly dissapated with his freedom (as the judge would phrase it). Years later Trip communicated to me it was time to install a doggy door, because after all he was potty trained and a big boy that should be allowed to come and go inside the house as he pleases. After all it would save me the time of touch up painting and trim repair from him trying to figure out how to operate the doors & windows himself.

I am twenty eight years old now and single, so Trip and I share a cozy 944 sq ft bachlor pad on a 1/2 acre all to ourselves and couldn’t be any happier with the daily routine. I pay the bills and he takes care of the house pending payment in at least, one pig ear a day (all dogs love em’). I believe trip is a border collie/lab mix and shares similar features with Mark’s dog Pepsi. Trip has been a blessing in my life, is a faithful friend and always seems to do something quite funny when I’m feeling down. I encourage anyone who doesn’t already have a dog to go out & get one. With a little personal responsibility and love they can be potty trained and provide years of companionship. Trip can shake on command w/left and right paw, sit, lay down, and roll over. Also, when he feels like it he do absolutely nothing I’m asking him to do, but I still love him.

— Ben from Ft. Worth, TX

Bing, a beautiful grey tabby appeared on our back patio one day in 2004. I thought he was rather cute, definitely looked hungry, so I fed him. When I told my husband that he was awfully cute, he said, “don’t feed him.” I said, “too late.” That was the beginning of our relationship. I contacted animal control and found out the correct procedure to follow in order to adopt him. He continued to come to the back patio where he was fed and played with our other two cats (Mel and Bud). One day he showed up with an infected scratch on his nose. With much trepidation, I called animal control and had him picked up. Just before he was taken by the officer we said, Bing, do not worry, we will come to adopt you.” I think he understood because as soon as we were allowed to visit him we did so. We were taken to a room and allowed to see him. Upon seeing us, he meowed. The attendant said, “that is the first sound that cat has made since he arrived.” We played with him, arranged for neutering and shots and told him we would be back to bring him home. The first day with us he purred loudly and drooled as we petted him and told him he would have a good life. His fur was matted, he had lots of scars on his head and played roughly. Soon his scars disappeared, his fur became sleek and beautiful and he began to be more gentle. He communicated by looking us right in the eyes. He fit right into the family and brought us so much joy. In December 2009, my husband and I went out to dinner for my birthday. We returned home, played with Bing and Mel (Bud was diagnosed with Lymphoma, had chemotherapy for a year and died in July of 2009–I really miss him) and got ready for bed. We noticed Bing had vomited so I went to clean it up. As I began to clean it up I noticed Bing was having difficulty breathing. I scooped him up, called the vet, and we took him to the emergency hospital. Once there we were told he was in serious trouble. They administered oxygen but he remained in distress. After two hours they recommended he be put to sleep as he was suffering and could not breathe on his own. I agreed. Once he was gone, I picked him up, held him for a very long time, stroked his silky fur, cried and cried. I spoke to his vet the next day. He told me Bing had cardiomyopathy. It was so hard to accept . As each day goes by I am able to do so a little bit more. We miss him terribly. He was one great cat! He was very large (18 pounds) and had a way of showing his appreciation for having been adopted (actually, he adopted us!). Bing was cremated. On December 31st we spread his ashes in the places in the garden he favored.

— Victoria from Anaheim, CA

FOUND A PEANUT…12 years ago my husband pulled into a convenience store and noticed a skinny, sad-looking Beagle sitting just outside the door as he entered the store. He asked the clerk about the dog and the clerk said she’s been sitting there for hours. He said a car came through, opened it’s doors and pulled-off, leaving her behind. Being a dog-lover anyway, my husband walked out and petted this little thing. Her doleful eyes and long floppy ears were just too much to ignore so he put her in his truck and brought her home, where we already had 2 dogs and a cat. We instantly fell in love with this Beagle, who we named “Peanut” because she was little compared to our 2 big dogs, and from the song “Found a Peanut”. The vet said she was a pure-bread Beagle, about 4 years old and had obviously been used for breeding. We got her healthy again and she has been a source of love and pure sweetness in our lives ever since. She doesn’t do tricks, or anything funny or silly – she is just an angel. She has live safely and happily in our home and has outlived our other beloved pets. Currently we have one other dog and a cat. Peanut is now 16 years old and is finally starting to show signs of quality of life issues. Our grateful hearts ache when we think of losing her, and we don’t talk about it. We just show her even more love than ever before. She now has frequent accidents in the house, and this is hard to deal with but we just clean it up and forget about it. We have lost 2 other beloved dogs that we resuced, but Peanut has been with us the longest. She is a gift from God and we will never stop thanking Him for bringing her into our lives.

— Trish from Atlanta, GA