Widow, a Chihuahua and Harry Truman: A Story of Love, Loss and Love Again

Widow, a Chihuahua and Harry Truman: A Story of Love, Loss and Love Again

by Mary Beth Crain
A Different Kind of Love Story

When Mary Beth Crain lost her husband of only three years to cancer, she though she would never again know the meaning of the word happiness. Inconsolable, she couldn't imagine anything with the power to draw her out of the seemingly bottomless pit of grief.

But there was a savior - or two - on the horizon, in the form of


A Different Kind of Love Story

When Mary Beth Crain lost her husband of only three years to cancer, she though she would never again know the meaning of the word happiness. Inconsolable, she couldn't imagine anything with the power to draw her out of the seemingly bottomless pit of grief.

But there was a savior - or two - on the horizon, in the form of President Harry S. Truman, Mary Beth's idol, from whose practical wisdom she had always drawn strength, and his namesake, Truman, a three-pound Chihuahua. Drawing upon Harry Truman's wise words, and the small but powerful furry presence that brightened her world, Crain shares her experience of overcoming loss by finding inspiration and joy in both her dog and a former president who was the embodiment of common sense, integrity, and optimism.

Author Biography:

Mary Beth Crain is a journalist and coauthor of Angel Wisdom, Angel Courage, andThe Tao of Negotiation. She shares her home and her heart with Truman the Chihuahua and three very large cats.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Five months after her husband died of lung cancer, Crain bought a Chihuahua to break the stranglehold of devastating grief, despair and depression that gripped her. Her vivacious new puppy gave unconditional love, kept her occupied and helped her heal. While canine therapy may not be for everyone, this charming story offers many insights into the grieving process, as Crain describes how she resigned herself to loss, worked through anger and guilt, and rediscovered a sense of purpose. She named her dog Truman, after the president she admired for his down-to-earth character, his integrity, his indefatigable energy, his lifelong love for wife Bess and his fortitude in the face of adversity. Some of these same traits imbue her feisty, loyal Chihuahua and his winsome ways. Dog owners will identify with Crain's account of raising a pup that gnaws furniture legs, runs into neighbors' houses and drops out of obedience school. A cat lover, the author faced another tragedy when one of her three cats died in a car accident. Crain, who writes for L.A. Weekly, is also coauthor of Angel Wisdom and Angel Courage; her dog story has its share of psychic messages and mystical coincidences, plus a transcendent union with her husband's soul on his deathbed. Disarming candor and sprightly humor should endear her quirky book to anyone coping with the loss of a loved one--or with the acquisition of a demanding pet. Agent, Loretta Barrett. (May) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.|

Product Details

HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
Edition description:
1 ED
Product dimensions:
5.77(w) x 8.48(h) x 0.88(d)

Read an Excerpt

Harry Truman and Me

I was sworn in one night and the next morning I had to get right on the job at hand. I was plenty scared, but, of course, I didn't let anybody see it, and I knew I wouldn't be called on to do anything that I wasn't capable of doing.

From as far back as I can remember, I've felt a closeness to Harry Truman. This can undoubtedly be explained, on one level, by the fact that he and my favorite grandfather, Lou Bretstein, looked so much alike that they could have been candidates for that separated-at-birth thing.

This is a bit of an irony considering that Papa Louie was the only rabid Republican in a family crawling with liberal Jewish Democrats. In fact, as the story goes, he got so excited on election eve, 1948, that he forsook his usual temperance to get stinking drunk and slide down the banister yelling, "Hooray for Dewey!" at the top of his lungs.

But the grandfather fixation really takes up only a small amount of space in a heart full of reverence for Harry. His great fortitude, coupled with a level of integrity unheard of in politics and rare enough outside of it, impressed me so much that during the tough times in my life I somehow found myself turning to him for courage and inspiration.

I remember one time a few years back, when things were really bad. My mother was undergoing surgery and I had to travel three thousand miles to be with her, leaving Adam, who was inexplicably under the weather with what turned out to be terminal cancer, on his own. No sooner had I arrived than my brother, who was supposed to come from Michigan to help out with my mother, ended up in a hospital emergency room inGrand Rapids after nearly severing part of his hand. To make matters worse, I'd just had a book deal fall through. Ali, the timing of the universe.

I spent ten hours a day in the hospital with my mom, after which I'd go back to her house and collapse. "Do something nice for yourself," my aunt advised me one evening over the phone from Florida. "Go out to dinner at a nice restaurant. Treat yourself."

Hmm. I thought about what would make me feel really good. Then I made myself a hot dog and sat down with Plain Speaking, Merle Miller's book of conversations with Harry Truman, which just happened to be staring at me from one of my mother's overloaded bookshelves.

I was soon reminded that Harry Truman was no stranger to adversity. Nothing ever seemed to come easily to him. He toughed it out when his father died, putting his own dreams on hold to take over the family farm. He weathered the First World War as Captain Truman, heroic leader of men in battle. He endured the terror of financial ruin when a failed business enterprise plunged him into debt with a wife and child to support. And his political life was one long, arduous climb up an endless mountain of scorn and contempt-attitudes that metamorphosed into reverence only years after he left the White House and people finally recognized the remarkable qualities that had made him one of our greatest presidents.

Yet all Harry had to say, when asked about the tough times, was, "What I did was what I had to do.... And I always went ahead and did it as best I could without taking time out to worry about how it would have been if it had worked out another way. Or to complain about what happened. You'll notice, if you read your history, that the work of the world gets done by people who aren't bellyachers."

Oh, brother. I could sense Harry's finger pointing right at me. I'd been feeling pretty sorry for myself this past week, I had to admit. Why? Because I wanted things to be different. I wanted my mother and brother and husband to be okay. I wanted that book deal to go through. I wanted life to be permanent-press. But life, like people, gets wrinkles. That's what it's all about. And I realized in that moment that Harry Truman's great strength came from the fact that he never expected life to be easy. So he was never disappointed or thrown for a loop when the sea got rough. You could say that he came into this world with his philosophical life preserver on, and it kept him afloat for eighty-eight years.

"You can't always do what you'd like to do," Harry reminded me, from another page. "And the sooner you learn that, the better off everybody is."

Those words instantly made me feel better, calmer, asthough I'd taken a couple of Extra-Strength Excedrin. Extra-Strength Truman, that' s what it was. And so, for the rest of theweek, I consumed hot dogs and the wisdom of Harry Truman every night, and I must say I couldn't have done anything nicer for myself.

When Adam died, though, even Harry couldn't make me feel better. Maybe it was because the one tough thing he'd never had to face was losing Bess. Considering how much he loved her, he might not have been able to make it without her, although my instinct tells me that he would eventually have gotten up and dusted himself off and gone on just as he always had, a little emptier inside, perhaps, but still in the ring till God himself took him out.

But I needed something stronger than Extra-Strength Truman to get me through this one. Something that would either numb me forever or bring me back to life. Something that would make me remember what joy felt like. Something miraculous, something magical, something I couldn't believe existed. Something like ... a chihuahua?

What People are saying about this

Mary Tyler Moore
Another delightful example of how pets can contribute to and sometimes change the lives of people. This is important stuff.
Dennis Lehane
A Widow, A Chihuahua and Harry Truman is a tender gift of a book—an uplifting story of one woman's brave ascent out of grief and the dog who helped her on her journey. I enjoyed every minute of it.
— (Dennis Lehane, author of A Drink Before the War and Darkness, Take My Hand)

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