A KING OF HEARTS

All the accolades given to Dr. Michael Miller, the retired veterinarian in Jamie Wolf’s “All Creatures, Large, Small or Otherwise” (Oct. 27) were well earned. I was a client of Dr. Miller’s for more than 20 years and brought him a multitude of dogs for medical care, all of them rescued. One particularly sweet dog, a large female Samoyed we called Whitey, finally reached the point of no return. She was old and terminally ill and had to be put to sleep.

During a long, tearful parting, Dr. Miller listened patiently while I told him how we had found Whitey sitting in the fireplace when we moved into our new home; it was as though she was waiting for us. We never did find out where she came from.

When I finally finished reminiscing about the highlights of Whitey’s life with us, Dr. Miller said gently: “Now kiss her goodbye and go home. She’ll be waiting for you in the fireplace.”

That happened years ago, but I’ll never forget his kindness and compassion. I still become misty-eyed when I think of it.

Mildred Traeger

Los Angeles

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I grew up in Park Labrea during the 1960s. Residents were not allowed to keep dogs or cats. So my parents filled our garden apartment with an assortment of chameleons, hamsters, horned toads and goldfish.

My symbiotic buddy was my parakeet, Jimmy (named after James Cagney), who was a patient of Dr. Miller’s. I remember how the doctor would cradle Jimmy in his oversized hands to examine the bird. He spoke to Jimmy in hushed, bird-like tones.

Unfortunately, I was one of Dr. Miller’s “traitors” when the new procedures in his waiting room seemed to become unbearable; I took my animal business up the street. But to this day, I can’t help glancing at his old office and recalling fondly the man who could talk to animals.

Linda A. Harris

Los Angeles

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I don’t know what we’ll ever do without Dr. Miller’s dancing eyes, gruff voice and easy smile. He always told me to pray to St. Francis of Assisi, but, secretly, I always believed more in Dr. Miller.

Julia Fulton

West Los Angeles

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Reading about Dr. Miller, I was like a hungry stray in an Alpo factory. I ravenously consumed the author’s cast of characters and their heart-tugging situations, “licking the bowl,” so to speak, until there was nothing left but my own fond memories of nearly every animal and person I have ever loved.

Jennifer Duclett

Pasadena