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Dear Ann Landers,
his short story is based on my own experience and I think it will touch anyone who has ever owned a pet. I wrote it with tears in my eyes. Will you please print it? -Chuck Wells, Palmyra, N.Y. Dogs Don't Have Souls, Do They? I remember bringing you home. You were so small and cuddly with your tiny paws and soft fur. You bounced around the room with eyes flashing and ears flopping. Once in a while, you'd let out a little yelp just to let me know this was your territory. Making a mess of the house and chewing on everything in sight be-came a passion, and when I scolded you, you just put your head down and looked up at me with those innocent eyes, as if to say, "I'm sorry, but I'll do it again as soon as you're not watching." As you got older, you protected me by looking out the window and barking at everyone who walked by. When I had a tough day at work, you would be waiting for me with your tail wagging just to say, "Welcome home. I missed you." You never had a bad day, and I could always count on you to be there for me. When I sat down to read the paper and watch TV, you would hop on my lap, looking for attention. You never asked for anything more than to have me pat your head so you could go to sleep with your head over my leg. As you got older, you moved around more slowly. Then, one day, old age finally took its toll, and you couldn't stand on those wobbly legs any- I I) 4 I ANN LANDERS more. I knelt down and patted you lying there, trying to make you young again. You just looked up at me as if to say you were old and tired and that after all these years of not asking for anything, you had to ask me for one last favor. With tears in my eyes, I drove you one last time to the vet. One last time, you were lying next to me. For some strange reason, you were able to stand up in the animal hos-pital; perhaps it was your sense of pride. As the vet led you away, you stopped for an instant, turned your head and looked at me as if to say, "Thank you for taking care of me." I thought, "No, thank you for taking care of me."

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Dear Readers,
, Ann. Your advice was, as always, mature, practical and wise. Too few people understand the true nature of forgiveness. Forgiving does not mean the offender goes free. He often suffers untold tortures. Obviously, all of us make mistakes. Each of us knows the warmth that fills our hearts and the deep sense of gratitude when we are forgiven. Forgiveness can spell the difference between a life of bitterness and hate and a life of compassion and understanding. When we are for-given by those we have wronged we are then able to forgive those who wrong us. Your column teaches this beautiful philosophy. Thank you for it. -No Stranger to Trouble This definition of success was written in 1904 by Bessie Anderson Stanley. Success He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often and loved much; who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; who has filled his niche, and accomplished his task; who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a res-cued soul; who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty, or failed to express it; who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had; whose life was an inspiration; whose memory a benediction. Whenever possible, I give credit to the authors of the pieces that appear in my column. However, sometimes it’s not that simple. Here's an example of the chaos that can occur:

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"Expect trouble as an inevitable part of life and repeat to yourself, the most comforting words of all; this, too, shall pass."
-Ann Landers