Spirit Dogs Reader Stories

Reader Stories

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A Story from Argentina
February 28, 2008

Hello, Susan
I hope you can translate my words and my feelings as well!

This is the story of a miracle, or several or them. In September, 1990, I adopted a little Chihuahua, "Titina," and we were inseparable companions for thirteen years and two months. On October of 2003, she was anesthetised for dental surgery and had a bad reaction to the anesthetic. A month later she died, after fifteen agonizing days during which she neither ate nor drank.

But before she died something incredible happened: During the night she suffered a heart attack and then recovered in my arms. I fell asleep at her side in a sofa and spent the whole night with her. I prayed to St. Roch that she not suffer more and that he carry her to heaven... Titina weighed less than 2 pounds. The next day, I returned to my home around noon from a visit to the vet, and I put her to bed in her spot, in a bad state, and I went to rest in my room. But when I returned I couldn't find her. I began to look for her, and to my surprise she was sitting in front of the sofa where we had spent the night before. I didn't understand how she could have walked six meters in her state, because she was agonizing! My joy was immense, and I exclaimed, "Titina you feel better, how wonderful!” Within hours, however, she had passed away. My dog went searching for me to say goodbye before she died. I couldn't believe it, and I gave thanks to St. Roch!

The next day I buried her in my garden next to her ball and a letter I wrote promising to return to her one day in "Paradise." My sadness had no limits, and soon I dreamt of my dog. I remember having seen her, or better said "felt her," very peaceful, well, and happy in a place that I cannot define. My state of sadness was such that I did not want more dogs. I was like this for six months, until one day while leaving for work in the morning, I found a box at the door of the house. Inside there was a German Shepherd puppy, abandoned, mistreated, and on the point of death. It had scabies, Demodex, the back right leg fractured, a lone testicle... Immediately I adopted him and fixed him up.

This is only the beginning, to set up what was to happen next...

But that was not the only miracle. There were others, between those, which I will relate briefly now: In January of 2007, I again began to dream of my Chihuahua Titina. She was furious, so much that I couldn't believe that such a happy dog could be so angry. I woke up and five hours later I had a serious accident. As I recovered from it I tried to interpret the facts: My dog had warned me what was to occur hours later.

Susan, I hope my story is of interest. The facts are absolutely true, and related faithfully to how they occurred. I hope I am showing my eternal gratitude to Saint Roch by taking care of dogs who are sick, abandoned, and mistreated!

I send you my best wishes,
Sincerely,
Claudio Neira
Buenos Aires, Argentina

Cinderella
July 19, 2007

From Mary Ellen Mauro, Oakbrook, IL

In August, 1999 Cinderella, our eleven-year-old Flat-Coated Retriever, became very ill. At that time our son was in the Army and stationed in Germany. When he heard that Cinderella was so sick, he wanted to use his leave time to fly back to Chicago. (He said he'd even take the Concorde if he could have afforded it).

We told him that he did not have to fly here and that we were taking good care of her, and we would keep him posted on her condition A week passed, and Dan set out on his leave in Germany. On his vacation through the German country side, he stopped at an old German cathedral. There was a Mass going on, and the priest was using the incense vessel. As the priest gently swung the vessel back and forth, the smoke wafted into the rafters. Dan looked at the smoke, and it appeared to him that the incense smoke rising was in the shape of Cinderella with wings and a halo. He called us the next day to tell us of his vision. Sadly, we had to tell him that Cinderella had died on the very day he saw her image.

Another from Shelly Spencer Marx
July 11, 2007

From Shelly Spencer Marx of Colorado Springs, CO

To understand this story you must first understand Quigley. Quigley was a male Flat-Coated retriever whose passion in life was food or anything that might resemble food or may have at one point contained food. He was so subtle and quick that many times I was unaware that he even stole whatever was available. One of his favorite delicacies was a loaf of bread, wrapper and all, and a stick of margarine, still intact in the foil wrapper. On many occasions I would go to have toast in the morning only to discover that I was out of bread and butter. I would think to myself, "I could have sworn that I had bread" so often that I thought I was going crazy. It wasn't until I caught Quigley in the act that I realized what was happening to my future breakfast. He had a grin on his face that just looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I thought putting the bread in a Tupperware container would solve the problem. This proved to be no problem for Quigley; he just ate the Tupperware too. If I ever took a dish to a potluck, people would look at the container and just shake their heads and mutter.....”Quigley.” This was the thief I knew and loved known as Quigley.

Now a couple of years later, after Quiqley had passed away, comes Watson, Quigley's nephew. Watson was the perfect gentleman until Quigley would “come to visit.” Watson would never even consider stealing food or containers. If I left anything out on the counter, he would bring it to me and politely ask permission for a spoonful of the peanut butter I’d so sloppily left out on the counter. One day I walked into the kitchen and there stood Watson with a loaf of bread in his mouth. Only it wasn't the polite Watson I knew; his expression was different, and his body language spoke of some dear, departed soul I had not seen in years. Without even thinking, I yelled, "QUIGLEY, what are you doing?" Quigley looked at me through Watson's eyes and just smiled. He finished eating the bread and all but asked, "Where is the butter?" After licking his lips and saying good bye, Watson was back. Tasting the bread in his mouth, he was mortified. I still, to this day, do not believe he knew what happened. Every now and again Quigley returns for breakfast. I let him finish his bread, give him a hug, say "Good bye for now," and watch as Watson returns to himself.

Quigley
July 11, 2007

Introduction from Susan
June 27, 2007

Hello!
Since writing the first Spirit Dogs book in 1995, I have heard countless stories from my readers about their own spirit dogs, so now in this age of blogging, it seems fitting that you have a place to share your stories with other readers.

I think that each story brings comfort and hope to not only the person who had the experience but all those who hear or read it.

I have been especially touched by the story of Lottie and her owner, Kirk, in Australia. I hope you enjoy their stories as much as I have.
Susan

Kirk and Lottie from Fisherman's Paradise, Australia
June 27 , 2007

12/13/06: Dear Susan,
A friend told me of your lovely books. My beloved Lottie died last Saturday. We had such a strong bond. I used to be a palliative care nurse, and if l penned down what Lottie did with her illness—cancer, etc.-- and didn’t mention it was a dog, people would think l was talking about a human.

12/28/06: Hi Susan,

I just have to share this experience with you. I scattered most of Lottie’s ashes Christmas morning along our favorite walk and some up at my partner’s farm.
As I mentioned, I used to work in palliative care and now manage all the shops, welfare section, and some 400 volunteers Our Welfare Sections are closed for the holiday period. Yesterday l closed our Nowra Shop for one hour for a surprise luncheon for one of my staff. I was walking past my office, and my direct line rang. I never close the shop at lunchtime, and to get me on my direct line is nearly impossible.
A lady whose name I shall keep anonymous rang my direct line and mentioned she had tried to ring the Nowra shop and the number had rang out. She stated she was in Shell Harbour Psychiatric Hospital (one and a half hours north of Nowra). She said she had become a nervous wreck, as her dog had been poisoned some ten days ago and was at the Ulladulla Vets. Ulladulla is one hour south of Nowra. I believed this lady as she spoke. She asked if we could pay the deposit for the dog to be placed in a boarding Kennel at Nowra, and she would send the dog up in a taxi, and l could go to Shell Harbour to get the $100.00. The RSPCA was unable to help
I always go on my gut instinct, and I believed this lady. I called the vet at Ulladulla, and yes, the dog was there and had been poisoned. The vet said the owner was worried sick, is bipolar, and had broken down, etc. To cut a long story short, l went down and picked up the dog, a 48 kg Rhodesian Ridgeback, a beautiful dog. I took her to the boarding kennel and paid the $100.00. I told the owner of the dog that she can pay me when she feels better and has the time. I still remember that phone call. Her whole voice, etc. had changed, and she was so much calmer and could be released tomorrow.
I felt good and thought Lottie would have said, “Yep, that’s my dad.” What blew me away was this: As they went to put the dog into a kennel run, a Border Collie in the next pen looked straight at me, and it had a smile. The face was the same as Lottie’s, half white and half black even down to the fact that on her white side the ear was black. The owner of the kennels observed this dog. Then he looked at me and said, “You like that dog. She likes you.”
I walked over to this dog and grinned , she acknowledged me and then she walked away. I drove away last night, thinking that Lottie had masterminded this. Her spirit is with me, and she was letting me know she was alright after l had scattered her ashes.

5/14/07:
Good Morning Susan. I have been meaning to write for ages. I have finished your second book, and I found it excellent. I have re-read some sections. When I finished the last chapter, I could picture lvan letting go and starting his new journey of life. I felt really comfortable. You will probably realize what I am going to tell you.
I called out to see one of my volunteers 17 days ago. Little did l know her Border Collie had had 5 puppies. They were all lovely. However, one took my fancy, and I held this little pup. She was no bigger than my hand and was so comfortable in my hand. Janice said this puppy was for me, I came up with all the excuses that l am moving in 8 weeks, that it’s not good to change a puppy’s home, etc. Then Janice told me the puppies where just one day old and couldn’t leave for 8 weeks anyway. I had run out of excuses but didn’t commit myself, although l did take a couple of photos.
I called back a few days later and again and again.
Then last Friday when l called in, the pup’s eyes were open. I held her up, and she looked at me, and with her right eye, winked at me. I winked back, and she did the same thing again. I showed Janice, and again this happened. Miss Lottie used to do this to me.
This little puppy was so comfortable in my arms, and it feels right. I’m still not 100 percent certain l should have another dog just yet. I think I will keep coming back to check on her.
When l spoke to my partner on the phone later in the day the first words said to me were, “When do you pick up Little Lottie?”
I am not saying this little puppy is Lottie. It’s not fair to a puppy or another dog to compare, but l always go on my gut feeling, and l think Lottie’s soul could be with this little girl. I have seen that wink so many times before.
I have rambled enough. I just wanted to share this with you.
Hope you’re keeping well. Take care.
Cheers, Kirk

5/16/07
Good Morning Susan
Thank you for Chapter One of book three. I read this last night. I started, and although tired, I didn't want to stop. I was hooked. Hey the gang are all back in the neighbourhood and not yet aware.
Little Lottie was born on the 17/4/07. One of the photos I’ve attached is her at day one.
I will take her home about the 18th June. I have been calling in and handling her so she gets to know my odour etc.
We are in the process of building a new home at Mount Sassafras. We have 44 acres and a shack there with some 16 horses, etc. — hence the indecision about moving, etc. At present l live down on the coast in a small village of 200 people. The Mount is 35 miles west of the coast. Compared to your mountains, I should say “hill,” as we will be 763 metres above sea level.
When l first looked at this little girl, I didn't realize she was just one day old, and when I said to Janice, “I can’t take her because l am moving,” that's when Janice informed me the puppies wouldn’t be ready for another 8 weeks. So, number one excuse went out the door.
I always say if things are meant to happen in life, they fall into place, there are no hurdles, and this has been the case with this little girl, the timing of the new house, etc.
Will keep you posted. Take care, and again thank you for sharing Chapter One of the new book with me.
Cheers Kirk

6/16/07
Hi, Susan,
I brought Lottie Two home yesterday. She was 8 weeks old last Tuesday. When she traveled in the car, she sat just like the first Lottie with her head and paws across to the centre console. Last night was her first night in her new home, and I expected her to be restless, cry whimper, etc., but nothing. She slept on my head. Lottie One did this the first night she came home. She knows my voice, even in a crowd, and just looks at me and doesn’t want to leave my side. I think it’s Ivan’s story in practise, Will keep you posted. Hope you’re keeping well, and thank you so much for sending me Chapter One of your third book.
Cheers, Kirk

6/23/07
Hi Susan.
Sorry for the delay, but the phone line has been out. I started holidays when I picked up Lottie Two. She has been no trouble at all. I let her sleep on the bed the first night, and she slept on the pillow above my head. My first Lottie did that on her first night at home.
This girl never ceases to amaze me, as she does so many things that Lottie One did. When we were walking through the chestnut trees toward the horses to feed them, she stopped and looked up at the big, old, Blackwood tree—just like Lottie One used to do.
This girl even will walk along the paddocks, stop, let me get 100 metres
ahead, wait to see if I’m looking, and then race towards me. This was Lottie One’s trick.
She has not cried since leaving home and is excellent, even sleeps the same
as Lottie One did, upside down on my lap, sunning the stomach.
Your web sharing sounds great. l know that I really appreciated being able
to share my story with you.
Thank you for the second chapter. I will email again at the end of next
week or sooner if the phone line is fixed
Cheers, Kirk and Lottie Two