When Your Pet Gets Sick

        Pet are part of the family!

        If you have a pet - or six - then this fact won't surprise you: A recent poll by AP - Petside uncovered that most Americans consider pet to be family. In fact, at least half of us think of our companion animal as equally important to our clan's human counterparts. And when a family member gets sick, we want what's best for them.

        But how do you know when an animal is sick? No matter how much you talk to your pet, he or she can't talk back or point to where it hurts. To complicate matters further, many animals - especially cats - will hide from their humans when they're injured or unwell. So keeping close tabs on Mitzi's behavior is critical, as is that annual trek to the vet.

        Signs your pet needs health care

        According to the American Veterinary Medical Association, these clues top the list of indicators that all may not be well with your pet:

        * Behavioral changes (a Formerly housebroken pet having accidents, for example)

        * A decrease in activity levels or appetite

        * Urinating more or less frequently

        * Diarrhea or vomiting

        * Hair loss/itching

        * Stiffness, lameness, or difficulty rising

           However, veterinary experts go on to say that by the time an illness results in behavioral changes, it has probably progressed. That's why all your pets should see their doctor at least once a year, just like any other family member - even if you have to chase Mitzi before she submits to her carrier (and you wear the scars to prove it!).

           Lowering Pet Care's Unexpected costs

           Though necessary, vet visits can mean a hefty hit to your wallet. One 2011 study indicated that pet owners spend an average of $500 a year on vet care. That number jumped to $1000 or more for serious illness. Also, similar to human health care, the financial burden of pet health care tends to increase with age, especially with ongoing medication - and without pet insurance.

           But let's face it. Who thinks about future cost when they're staring into a rescued pup's big brown eyes through the wires of a cage at the animal shelter? Once you're in love, skipping the veterinary care or medication your pet needs is unfathomable. That's why Costco is working to make sure you don't have to.

          Save On Medication for Cats and Dogs

          It used to be that picking up medications formulated for companion animals required a stop at your vet's office. Today, however, you can get the medication your dog or cat needs from Costco - even if it's a drug "for pet only" - because: we're now offering our members brand-name prescription pet medications at significantly lower prices than can be found at most veterinary clinics.

           Prescription medications offered at the same deep discounts you enjoy on other Costco products include Revolution, Baytril, Heartgard, Interceptor, Clavanox, Rimadyl, Iverhart, Novox, and Deramaxx. The program also encompasses over-the-counter products such as shampoo, eye/ear cleaner, and popular remedies for anxiety and joint problems. These products are available behind the counter at most pharmacy locations.

           Using Costco's new pet prescription program is easy. Our pharmacists partner with veterinarians in exactly the same way they partner with doctors. Because Costco is one of the first retail pharmacies to offer drugs that were once exclusive to veterinary clinics, members may have to request a written prescription from their vet. Vets can fax or call in prescriptions and refills to Costco, or you can bring your veterinarian's written prescription and have it filled while you shop.

                                                             Living Health Magazine

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Love Story

         John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose.

         He interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Floria library. Taking a book off the shelf he found him self intrigued, not with the words of the book, but writing the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name miss Hollis Maynell. With time an effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond.

         The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was building. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she looked like. When the day finally come for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York.

        "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he love, but whose face he's never seen.

        Mr. Blanched told:

       A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her entirely forgetting to note that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl.

      A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoe. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her.

      This would not be love, but it would  be something precious something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had  been and must ever be, grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment .

         "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?"

          The woman face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I doesn't know what this is about, son", she answered, "but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!"

          If not difficult to under stand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive. "Tell me whom you love." Hollis wrote, "And I will tell you who you are."

                                                                     (For The One I Love)

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Information Please

INFORMATION PLEASE

By Molly Melville  

        I used to have a job as a telephone operator. All you had to do was dial 411 and you got me. 411 provides telephone numbers whenever there's an enquiry; however, many people think,"Gee! Call 411. Information, they know everything about everything." I would get calls for,"Ya know dat girls? She lived in brown house on dat one roa full of iris flowers? She my frien in ma class. She got brown hair." Or "Can you tell me how to make egg salad?".

      Well, one day I got a call and it was around Christmas time. I picked the phone and took my similar saying, "Directory assistance, may I help you?" There was rather old man on the phone and in a very lonely voice he said, "Ma'am, I need...my cat needs some food."

      He sounded so helpless but I had to disconnect him. It was against the rules to give out anything other than phone numbers, so I disconnected him

      He called back, and by some miracle, I got him again. In his frail voice, he whispered, "Ma'am, please don't hang up on me. My poor cat....She's so hungry. All I want for Christmas is for her to have some food. Please, miss....please help me".

      What could I do? This poor man's voice sounded so sincere. I had to do something! I quickly asked him for his address and told him I would see what I could do. At that time, I just knew I had to do something for this poor old man and his pitiful cat. I went to my supervisor and asked if I could take the rest of the evening off. It was getting dark out, and it was starting to snow.

      I left the building and went to the grocery not very far from there. Then, I bought a big bag of cat food, tied a big red ribbon on it and attached a card from Santa. I got old man's address out of my pocket and started to go in search of his house.

       It was in bad section of city. When I got there, it was dark and snowing. I walked up to the porch and crept up the musty, creaky stairs. I set down the bag of cat food, rang the door bell and ran hurriedly to my car and hid.

       I watched from my  shelter-car, an old thin man slowly opened the door. the bright smile on his small wrinkle face when he saw the food and read the card was the best Christmas present I ever received!

                                                                                - Molly Melville  

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Hungry for Your Love

Herman and Roma Rosenblat 
As told to Barbara De Angelis, Ph. D.

It is cold, so bitter cold, on this dark, winter day in 1942. But it is no different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shivering in my thin rags, still in disbelief that this nightmare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future, to growing up and marrying, and having a family of my own. But those dream are for the living, and I am no longer one of them. Instead, I am almost dead, surviving from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands of other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?

Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day, as more of us disappear, the happy pass seems like a mere dream, and I sink deeper and deeper in to despair.

Suddenly, I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes, eyes that seem to say that she understands, that she, too, cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away, oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this, but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.

Then she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. Oh, how long has it been since I have seen one! she looks cautiously to the left and to the right, and then with a smile of triumph, quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up, holding it in my trembling, frozen fingers. In my world of death, this apple is an expression of life, of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing in to the distance.

The next day, I cannot, help myself - I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.

And again, she comes. And again, she bring me an apple, flinging it over the fence with the same sweet smile.

This time I catch it, and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care, though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.

For seven  months, we meet like this. Some times we exchange a few words. Some times, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding her as well.

One day, I hear frightening news we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely mean the end for me and my friend.

The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking, and I can barely speak as I say what must be said: "Do not bring me an apple  tomorrow, " I tell her. "I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again." Turning before I lose all control, I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see my tears streaming down my face.

Month pass and the nightmare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind, I see her face, her kind eyes, I hear her gentle words, I taste those apples.

And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The was has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life.

Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is immigrant, so we have at least that in common.

"Where were you during the war?" Roma ask me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.

"I was in a concentration camp in Germany," I reply.

Roma gets a far away look in her eyes, as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman," Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. "You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I use to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy."

Roma sighs heavily and continues. "It is hard to describe how we felt about each other - after all, we were young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could - but I can tell you, there was much love there. I assume he would killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together."

With my heart pounding so loudly I think it will explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, "And did that boy say to you one day, 'Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp'? "

"Why, yes," Roma responds, her voice trembling. "But, Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?"

I take her hand in mine and answer, "Because I was that young boy, Roma."

For many moments, there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other, and as the veils of time lift, we recognize the dear friend we once love so much, whom we have never stopped loving, whom we have never stopped remembering.

Finally, I speak: "Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don't ever want to be separated from you again. Now, I am free, and I want to be together with you forever. Dear, will you marry me?"

I see that same twinkle in her eyes as Roma says, "Yes, I will marry you," and we embrace, the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us, Now, nothing ever will again.

Almost forty years have passed since that day when I found my Roma again. Destiny brought us together the first time during the war to show me a promise of hope, and now it had reunited us to fulfill that promise.

Valentine's Day, 1996. I bring Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor her on national television. I want to tell her in front of millions of people what I feel in my heart every day:

"Darling, you fed me in the concentration camp when I was hungry. And I am still hungry, for something I will never get enough of: I am only hungry for your love."

                            - Herman and Roma Rosenblat
                         As told to Barbara De Angelis, Ph. D.

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I Love You Honey

      They have been married for a long time. As usual they  have their up and downs. One day they had a big fight over his long working hours and things are falling apart. He was disappointed and she was angry.

       After one week of silence treatment from his wife, he approached her with papers and pencils. He suggested that both of them, sit down on the dining table and write down on paper what they are not happy about each other. They will than exchange the papers and discuss.

       So the wife started to write without looking up because she have a lot to write about her frustration. The husband took a long look at the wife and started to write. After 15 minutes of writing. They look at each other and exchange the papers.

       The husband looked at the paper full of complaints. She was angry. When the wife looked at his paper, she was embarrassed and quickly tears away his own paper. On his paper, he wrote for two full papers:

                                                                "I love you, honey."

                                                                                              
                                                                                                                (For the one I love )

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A Silent Love

      From the very beginning, the girl's family objected strongly on her dating this guy.

      Saying that is has got to do with family background an that the girl will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be with him

      Due to family pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Though the girl loves the guy deeply, but she always asked him: "How deep is your love for me?"

     As the guy is not good with his words, this often cause the girl to be very upset. With that and the family's pressure the girl often vents her anger on him. As for him, he only endures it in silence.

      After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated and decided to further his studies in overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the girl: "I'm not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family. I'll try my best to take them round. Will you marry me?"

      The girl agreed, and with the guy's determination, the family finally gave in and agreed to let them get married. So before he left, they got engaged. The girl went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails and phone calls. Though it's hard, but both never thought of giving up.

      One day, while the girl was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realized that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sign. She has lost her voice....

      The doctor says that the impact on her brain has caused her lose her voice. Listening to her  parents' comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down.

      During the stay in hospital, beside silence cry...it's still just silence cry that accompanied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart every time it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know. And not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.

      With that, she sent the ring back to him..In return, the guy sent millions and millions of reply, and countless of phone calls...All the girl could do, besides crying, is still crying...

      The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything and be happy.

      With a new environment, the girl learn sign language and started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget this guy. One day, her friend came and told her that he's back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn't anymore news of him.

      A year has passed and her friend came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy's wedding. The girl was shattered. When she opened the letter, she saw her name in it instead.

       When she was about to ask her friend what's going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her, he used sign language telling her "I've spent a year's time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I've not forgotten our promise let me have the chance to be your voice I love you" with that, he Slipped the ring back into her finger. The girl finally smiled.

                                                                           
                                                                                                I love you so

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The Cookies Thief

        A woman was waiting at an airport one night. With several long hours before her flight. She hunted for a book in the airport shop, bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop.

       She was engrossed in her book, but happened to see.

       That the man beside her, as bold as could be, Grabbed a cookie or two from the bag between, Which she tried to ignore, to avoid a scene.

       She read, munched cookies and watched the clock.

       As the gutsy "cookie thief" diminished her stock. She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by,

       Thinking, "If I wasn't so nice, I 'd blacken his eyes". With each cookie she took, he took one, two. When only one left, she wondered what he'd do.

       With a smile on his face and a neverous laugh, He took the last cookie and broke it in half.

       He offered her half, as he ate the other.

       She snatched it from him and thought, "Oh brother,

       This guy has some nerve, and he's also rude.

        Why, he didn't even show any gratitude!".

         She had never known when she had been so galled,

         And sighed with relief when her flight was called.

         She gathered her belongings and headed for the gate,

         Refusing to look back at the "thieving ingrate,"

         She boarded the plane and sank in her seat,

         Then sought her book, which was almost complete.

         As she reached in her baggage, she gasped with surprise.

         There was her bag of cookies in front of her eyes!

         "If mine are here," she moaned with despair,

         " Then the other were his and he tried to share!"

         Too late to apologize, she realized with grief

         That she was the rude one, the ingrate, the thief!

                                             - Valerie Cox

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