Rehabilitating a Homicidal Pet

Vixen. Photo by Babs Schmerl.

By Jane Parnell

Several months before having my right knee replaced, I adopted a puppy, my first ever. I purchased her from a rescue organization that specializes in stray dogs on the Navajo Reservation. She was seven weeks old. They said she was a husky-German shepherd like my previous dog, a stray I rescued myself on a hike in the mountains. I named my husky-shep Beast in hopes of transforming him into a beauty. Once he was neutered and trained, he turned out to be the best dog I ever had. He accompanied me on more than 100 peak-bagging ventures, and as the therapy dog for my department at the university where I used to teach, he developed a loyal following of students in need of unconditional love.

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Powerful Intentions

by Susan Tweit

Last month, my husband Richard and I drove over the mountains to Denver for what we thought would be a routine brain MRI to monitor his recovery from brain cancer. Only the images showed something distinctly abnormal: several suspicious spots deep in the lower edge of his right temporal lobe.

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