When I first found Bear he was three months old and no body had chosen to take him home from the Oakland pound because they thought he had pit bull in him. Boy, was that a mistake. We named him Bear because as a puppy, when you rubbed his tummy, he would make sounds like a baby grizzly. He turned out to be an extremely hansom ninety pound shepherd lab mix with the disposition of the sweetest American mutt you could ever meet in your life. He loved us and we loved him for thirteen years.

I can’t remember a Christmas that he didn’t find his present under the tree first and when Bear was neurotic at times and suffered from separation anxiety as he got older. He loved to play tug of war, tormented our cat for fun and so loved his walks and cookies.

For you dog lovers, you know that thirteen is a long and happy life for a large breed.
When he decided it was time to go yesterday morning, he came to my bedside in distress and told me that he was ready.

He made it to the emergency veterinarian in time to be provided with some relief, we said goodbye and stayed with him until his great and loving heart stopped beating.

He was my best friend and the first dog I owned and raised as an adult. I will never forget him or the love he brought to my family and me.

“Dog’s are lucky, they get to see, love and touch their God every day”

I don’t know where I heard that, but Bear greeted us after work every day with an exuberation and true love that most humans can never aspire to.

I’ll miss you buddy.

– Tom from Concord, CA

I am a dog lover I have had many dogs growing up. I had a dog named Teddy, pure breed German Shepherd. We got him from a friend when he was six weeks old. He was the cutest of the bunch just like a little teddy bear. Teddy was the family dog. No one could harm the family. All my friends loved him and he loved them. Teddy loved to play in the snow. When he would see it snowing outside he would whine to go out an play. When I had my daughter he was jealous of her but very over protective of her at the same time. When she was little my daughter would share her snacks with Teddy. He would take them from her very softly. Teddy would sleep at the foot of my bed at nights and would even want the covers on him. He was alert to everything. He would not go to sleep at night until the last person arrived home from work or hanging out. He knew the sound our keys made when walking up the stairs to our building.

Your book reminds me so much of my dog that I cried the whole time that I read it. I couldn’t take it to work and read on the train because of that. Teddy had to be put to sleep because he had bad arthritis in his hind legs and a tumor on his front leg an whenever anyone would try an help him he snapped especially at my daughter. I couldn’t bare to see my beloved dog in so much pain when I remember him very playful and happy. It was the saddest day when I had to put him to sleep almost 4yrs ago. I think his spirit wanders that house at times to make sure everyone is safe at home.

– Ann from Brooklyn, NY

Early December of 2008 I met my best friend Skippy. My husband and I were helping our Amish friends move to their family farm. I walked over to the kennels to see the dogs. They bread several breeds for sale. In an outdoor cage was a lone Boston Terrier. His mate had died a few months earlier and he was basically taking up space. He was a disagreeable fellow, barking and growling when people approached his cage. I saw something in him that melted my heart. The owner agreed to give him to me for our helping them…I was willing to pay, but he said no. I held him on my lap on the way home. He smelled so bad and his gas was the worst I ever smelled.

The moment we brought him in the house he became an indoor dog. He loved it! I gave him a bath and he loved it. He tried out every piece of furniture in the house and liked them all. He is my constant companion, shadowing me everywhere I go. I must be within eye-shot at all times. I think he thinks he’s a person. He loves when we sit with company at the kitchen table. He sits on my lap with his front paws on the table, head turning toward each person who is talking. Sometimes he even joins in the conversation trying to make words. He cocks his head when we ask him what he thinks. I won’t have many years with him; he will be seven soon, but he has brought me such joy and laughter. As he lies snoring on my lap and gas as bad as ever, I thank God he brought Skippy into my life.

My family had bought a dog in 1996. At that time i was just about 16 years old. This was our family’s first pet. My mom had just been diagnosed with fourth stage colon cancer,and my dad thought this would be a great gift for her,and would keep my mom company as the rest of us were at work and school. Rowdy was his name,and he was the cutest beagle i have ever seen, white and brown, drop dead beautiful:). Rowdy and my mom grew very close in that time. They loved each other. I was Rowdy’s second mom. I was very busy with work,and being well the typical teenager at the time. As years past and Mom’s health was getting worse, I grew extremely close to Rowdy. He helped me through so much of her disease. When I was hurt and unwilling to talk to anyone else about how angry I was with my mom’s sickness, I would take Rowdy for the longest walks, and cry for hours to him. He always listened. I knew he understood, and was saddened also. After all, Rowdy was her son, her baby. In March of 2006, my mom died. I was crushed. Once again Rowdy was there for me, without a doubt. We took the same walks faithfully every day. To make an even longer story shorter, Rowdy was diagnosed with anal cancer. The vet could not perform surgery,as it had spread too far in his glands. So for the next two weeks that the DR .had given with me, I cried and I cried to him and for him. How was i gonna let my best friend go? I enjoyed my last Christmas with him,and spoiled him rotten, even more then i have ever done before. December 30th came (2009). I knew it was time. I took him over to the animal hospital. It was over in the matter of minutes. Here i am today (not even two months without him,and feels like forever), memories of him still surround my home. Not a day goes by and I don’t think of him. Pictures of him surround my rooms. I am lonely. I have not felt the same since he’s been gone. My body aches, my heart is hurting. Could this be a case of depression? Sounds crazy,but I feel so empty without him. I haven’t been or felt the same since his passing (and my moms of course). I came across your book, and it’s helping me along the way. For this book I am very thankful. Thank you Mark, and if you have any other suggested related books, please let me know. I could keep writing forever about my Rowdy, but I know there is no need to because you understand the pain I am feeling. Thank you again for letting me share my story.

– Janine from Quincy, MA

Millie is the dog that nobody wanted; her owner had a 2-year-old child; a 4-year-old child; and was pregnant. For Christmas of 1999, they got a border collie puppy, beautiful chestnut color. When I first saw her, she was a 16-month-old big, gallumping puppy who had run a path raw around the yard in her owner’s back yard. They GAVE her to us–along with her crate, her ball, her tie-out stake (which I threw away). My other dog, who had been with us since he was 8 weeks old and was now three years old, went and crawled under the dashboard to get away from her. She was AWFUL. No manners at all. She pulled drapes off the sliding glass doors–twice. She stole food from the table. My cat lived behind the dresser for three months. (“Is she good with cats?” “Oh, yes, she’s fine.” They really did want her to go). Everyone thought she was beautiful; everyone was appalled at her behavior. Nobody wanted her! But, she was so sweet. I worked with her–taught her that “Millie, come!” did not mean, “turn and run as fast as you can.” She learned to sit to be petted. She works a room like a politician–going from one person to another to get a pat on the head.

Millie is now ten years old, and she is certified as a therapy dog and a service dog. She is a service dog for me, as I had a bad foot injury as a result of aftercare of plain old bunion surgery. Tomorrow she has a surgery of her own to remove a mass from her abdomen. It tested benign, and I pray the tests are right. I know that I have fewer years left with her than I have had already, but I pray that there are many more ahead. She is my heart. The dog nobody wanted is now the dog about whom everyone says, “I wish MY dog behaved like that.” Literally, people stop their cars, get out, and ask how we get our dogs to behave so well.

There are no bad dogs, I know. But, Millie is my heart–and I love her. Because she knows you can lose a home, I believe she appreciates the home she found. Everyone should be so fortunate as to have a dog like Millie at least once in their life.

— Jana from Raleigh, NC

We rescued Lady, the fawn on the left, in December of 2007. She is five years old and ran 105 races in West Virginia before finding us. She has inspired my wife and I to dedicate our spare time to saving the lives of these noble athletes. We received our seven year old brindle girl, Fonda, in January of this year after several litters and 90 races in Colorado. Greyhounds make the most amazing companions. They seem to know that we saved their lives and appear to be grateful beyond expectation. I call these two our “ambassadogs” for their part in appearing at our local meet & greets. This is where we introduce the greyhounds to the public. Our girls lay around and let people pet them and show what docile animals they are. Greyhounds are called forty mile an hour couch potatoes. They are the second fastest land creature, only to to be outran by the cheetah, and have been clocked at speeds up to 45 MPH ! Being sprinters, they spend most of their time lounging. Many people have the wrong ideas about these hounds and I would hope that many more people would take time to investigate this wonderful breed. It is sad to think that after these regal athletes have made their owners so much money they are killed by the tens of thousands when they stop winning races or get injured. Thank you for taking time to get to know me and my girls. Hopefully we all can learn from the only animal that practices unconditional love as a regular way of life.

– Gil in San Carlos, CA