The Husky is a beauty, Magnificent and smart.
    It wasn't long before I knew That dog had won my heart. Powerful yet graceful,With eyes that pierce your soul-A gentle wolf-like spirit, And a heart of purest gold. Affectionate and loving, Devoted to the end-I can't imagine life without

    My Husky-my best friend.

    A letter from a dog – "How Could You?"
    When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?"...but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides,stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person", still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch because your touch was now so infrequent-and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?" They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I
    lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind-that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your
    every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?" Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself-a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.

    Now that I'm home, bathed, settled and fed,
    All nicely tucked into my warm new bed.
    I would like to open my baggage
    Lest I forget,
    There is so much to carry -
    So much to regret.
    Hmm.. Yes there it is, right on the top-
    Let's unpack Loneliness, Heartache and Loss,
    And there by my leash hides Fear and Shame.
    As I look on these things I tried so hard to leave-
    I still have to unpack my baggage called Pain.
    I loved them, the others, the ones who left me,
    But I wasn't good enough - for they didn't want me.
    Will you add to my baggage?
    Will you help me unpack?
    Or will you just look at my things
    And take me right back?
    Do you have the time to help me unpack?
    To put away my baggage,
    To never re-pack?
    I pray that you do - I'm so tired you see,
    But I do come with baggage -
    Will you still want me?
    I dearly hope so....

    Here is Nyleen's story. VERY SAD
    Spencer and Sophie were Nyleen's traveling companions on countless road trips over the years and were like children to her. They even took the overnight ferry once with her, crossing over to Newfoundland. She smiles thinking about how the border guard said that Spencer looked slightly suspicious and he might need to be frisked and then winked. Nyleen was no stranger to traveling with dogs. She had shown dogs in her youth. So she was used to taking dogs on road trips with crates and bottled water. She understood how to keep dogs comfortable no matter where they were going or how they were getting there. She had traveled with her dogs for years across the country and back many times. She never imagined losing them. She always avoided traveling alone in the hot summer months, but this one particular trip was business. After spending a week in Philadelphia, where the dogs had stayed in the air-conditioned hotel room, it was time to move on. She headed for home driving down the coast to Virginia and stopped in Delaware. Nyleen thought she would spend some time sightseeing and because she couldn't take the dogs with her, left them crated in the car. It was overcast outside and not hot, but Nyleen put a fan on her dogs and cracked the windows. When she returned, both Spencer and Sophie were both dead! Nyleen couldn't understand what happened. She was no novice and the weather was fine. She got her answer at the vet's office. The high humidity in the area was especially dangerous. Even if it wasn't especially hot outside, the humidity could get high enough to create conditions in a car where animals suffocate.
    Heat stroke is a common emergency. Dogs are most susceptible in the spring (April and May) when it starts to get warm but dogs have not yet acclimated to the weather change.Take a moment to learn how to prevent heat stroke. We have an excellent article by Dr. Debra Primovic about heat stroke in dogs . To read the article go to: petplace.com/ dogs/heat- stroke/page1. aspx.
    It's a horrible way to learn this lesson. Nyleen doesn't think she'll ever get over it. She hopes at least that everyone will read her story and not have to learn the hard way. She pleads, "Never, ever, for any reason or any length of time, leave your dog in the car."

    I'm standing here tied up to a tree,
    Eating bits of Kibble my owners left for me...
    I sit in a hole i've dug to keep me cool,
    on the hot summer's day,
    Water? There is no water...
    Not in a bowl or even a bucket,
    My owners left me for a vacation...
    How could they?
    Out in the shade of a tree waiting for my owners to come feed me,
    I whimper,
    I cry,
    I howl at night...
    To remind them i'm alive....but sadly i'm slowly dieing...

    This poem is about a puppy who doesn't know his owner is dead.

    I sit here on this porch until I die,
    Waiting for what may be a lie.
    I am waiting for my beloved owner.
    Because without him I shall become a loner.
    I do not know if my owner is alive or not.
    But I am waiting for him as I sit here and rot.
    I will wait here for you through rain,sleet,and snow.
    Yet,you are unable to watch me grow.
    I refuse to believe that you have abandoned me.
    I miss the times where we would play and shout with glee.
    I will wait here for you through hot Summer's day,
    Unable to play.
    I will wait for you through cold Winter's night,
    Without even a small trace of warmth or light.
    I will wait for you through the dead of Fall.
    Wishing that I could hear your call.
    I will wait for you through the life of Spring,
    knowing full well what it will bring.
    I will wait for you until my final breath,
    When I can say hello to death....

    ust this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

    All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them who had to be left behind.

    They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent, his eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head; and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

    Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together.