Mark R. Levin - Rescuing Sprite: A Dog Lovers Story of Joy and Anguish

Who would have thought Id write a book about a dog named Sprite? Well, actually, about a dog named Pepsi, too, and another one named Griffen.

Every dog lover has a dog story. This is mine.

For most of my life, my passions have involved big goals and big thoughts. Ive spent my career as a lawyer and broadcaster working on constitutional issues, writing about public policy, and talking about current events. Ive served at the highest levels of our government, and Ive even written a book about the Supreme Court. So why write this book? Because I am, first and foremost, a dog lover. Few things in life have given me the kind of joy and, frankly, sorrow, as my relationships with my dogs. And this is especially so with an older dog we rescued from a local shelter. We called him Sprite.

Sprite was found one day roaming the streets of Silver Spring, Maryland. We believe he lost his original familyor they lost him. He was taken to a local shelter and later handed over to foster parents while awaiting a family to adopt him. We were lucky to be that family.

Sprite was so beautiful. He had big brown eyes and the softest fur Id ever touched. As we soon learned, Sprite also suffered from serious and ultimately debilitating health problems, but he never let any of it get him down. Despite lifes curveballs, he was a dignified, graceful, and courageous dog. He was friendly to all, humans and canines alike.

Sprite touched me in ways I could never have expected. He taught me to better appreciate the simple and more important things in life. He quickly became an irreplaceable member of our family and a fixture in the neighborhood. Even with all his setbacks, Sprite was full of life. He appreciated life. He cherished every moment, seeming to understand that his time left on earth would be too brief.

I loved this dog. Writing this book was both painful and cathartic for me. Reading it may be emotional for you. I hope it brings you some smiles. I know it will bring you some tears. I hope, when youre done, that you are moved to hold your dog closer in your armsor in your memories.

1966

I have always loved dogs. I love to look at them, to be around them, and to play with them. We grew up with dogs. When I was eight, my parents bought a puppy from a friend of a relative. He was a mixed breed, mostly black, with a little white on his chest. We named him Prince.

I remember the first time I walked Prince. He was nine weeks old or so. I put the leash around his neck and at first he wouldnt budge. I had to drag him for a bit until he (and I) got the hang of it. It didnt take him long. And he also was housetrained in no time. Prince was a very sharp dog. He brought great pleasure to the family. His only vice, if you want to call it that, was his occasional desire to run free. And when he had the urge, nothing could stop him. Hed sprint through the front door no matter how narrow the opening. He might return in a few hours, or the next day. It upset us to no end when it would happen. We were very lucky he always returned home.

Not long after we got Prince, another dog came into our familyalong with a grandfather. I was taking my piano lesson when my teacher and I were interrupted by a tall man who had swaggered into the house. He was wearing a Stetson and a long leather coat. I thought he was John Wayne. My mother, Norma, said to me, This is your grandfather, Moe. He was my mothers father, but Id never met him before. In fact, up to that point, I dont remember anyone saying much about him. My grandmother Rose had divorced him many years earlier. He had been estranged from the family for some time. I would later learn that Pop-Pop Moe, as we called him, had served in the Marines during World War II, where he fought at Iwo Jima and Guam. The war took a toll on him. He suffered a nervous disorder that had taken most of his voice, and he strained to talk. But as I later learned, he was a lot of fun. He took my brothers and me to our first pro-wrestling match, and he took us to the racetrack, where he placed some bets for us.

On that first day he walked over to the piano, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a tiny Chihuahua. She was mostly black and brown with a little white. Id never seen anything like her. My mother named her Lady Duchess of Hawthorne. Lady would be the first of three Chihuahuas in the Levin household, all of whom were closest to my mother. A few years later, Lady died from a tragic accident. As my grandfather was getting out of his car, Lady unexpectedly jumped out of the car as Pop-Pop Moe was shutting the door. Her injury was fatal, and we were all devastated, especially my mother and grandfather.

Not long thereafter we got another Lady, my favorite of the three Chihuahuas. She wasnt your typical Chihuahua. She was less yappy. She was always a puppy to me, even as she got older.

Prince welcomed the Chihuahuas into the family. He was a happy-go-lucky dog. Even when the first Lady would growl or nip at him, he thought nothing of it. Prince could have crushed any one of them in his jaws, but hed just walk away.

Prince added so much life and joy to our family. My two brothers and I grew up with him, from elementary school through college. I will always love him, and I will never forget him. The third Lady, who we didnt own during Princes life, died in 2000. I didnt know her as well, but I suspect she was my mothers favorite. She lived for fifteen years.

September 1998

I didnt want to deny our kids the wonderful opportunity of growing up with a dog. My wife, Kendall, wasnt so keen on the idea. She grew up with two outside dogs: Hobo I and Hobo II. She loved her Hobos, of course, but living with an inside dog is a different experience. I spent a year or so wearing Kendall down, with assistance from my two kids.