Chicken Soup for the Dog Lover's Soul Read Online Free PDF Page A

a plan. We drove into town and visited the town’s thrift store. We purchased one extra large stuffed animal, two pairs of old roller skates and one cabinet door. I cut the board to size and my mother glued the stuffed dog onto the platform. Dad bolted the skates to the bottom of the plank and the girls made a coat from Huckleberry’s chair blanket. When the coat was tied around the finished product, we called Young Charlie to bring George for a visit.
    We crossed our fingers as the black Lab sniffed the creation. My daughters attached the leash to it and handed it over to George. We’ll never know if he humored us or if Huckleberry’s scent gave him the feeling of having his friend back. However, for the next eight weeks George took great pride in walking that stuffed animal.
    The story spread around town, and many of the residents came by to take pictures of the event. Shortly after returning to the city that year, we learned that George had passed away in his sleep, the stuffed animal at his side. We cried when we got the call.
    A few days later, when our summer photos had been processed and picked up, our sorrow turned to joy. The pictures of George leading his “friend” around were vivid reminders of the happy timeswe had spentwithHuckleberry and George. We knew we had witnessed a true act of love. Now, the two dogs will live forever in the telling and retelling of one of our favorite family stories: The Great Dog Walk.
    Anne Carter

off the mark
    by Mark Parisi
    www.offthemark.com

    OFF THE MARK, ©1999 Mark Parisi. Reprinted with permission of Mark Parisi.

Velcro Beau
    M oney will buy you a fine dog, but only love can make it wag its tail.
    Richard Friedman
    When I first saw him, he looked worried. His furrowed brow and uncertain eyes gave his regal face a haunted look. I would come to know that this was a dog who was spooked by change until he got his bearings. And that day his world had been turned upside down.
    The large German shepherd had been running away on a regular basis. He always showed up at a neighbor’s house where they played with him and fed him—and eventually called his family, asking them to come and get him. Sometimes when the family showed up to retrieve him, they were rough with him. The neighbors noticed that the dog never seemed too excited about getting into their truck. And lately he hadn’t been looking well. His coat was rough and he was losing weight.
    One day, when they called the dog’s family to report his whereabouts, the family said they weren’t coming to get him. They’d had enough; the dog was on his own. Fortunately, the neighbors called a friend who was a volunteer at the shelter where I also volunteered as dog-intake coordinator and breed-rescue liaison. She took him home and then called me.
    As I drove up to my friend’s house, I saw her sitting on the porch with her children. The dog was sitting on the porch, too, but wasn’t interacting with any of them. Instead, he was scanning the street and sidewalk with nervous eyes.
    He was a stunning dog, in spite of his worried expression, rough coat and emaciated frame. I was told he was a little over a year and a half, still a pup by German shepherd standards. He was very tall and would be an imposing creature once he filled out. I had never handled a dog his size and was intimidated at first. But, aside from being agitated at the strangeness of his surroundings, he seemed perfectly friendly and readily jumped into the back of my car.
    My plan was to take himto the vet for an examand then take himto the shelter or arrange for himto go to the nearest German shepherd rescue group. But first I thought I’d stop and show him to my husband, Larry, as he’d grown upwith German shepherds and loved the breed. (Over the years, I’d heard many stories about his favorite dog, Marc; none of our rescued mutts could compare.)
    When I opened the back door of the car and the shepherd leaped out, he immediately loped over to my