Following eviction from their Albuquerque home, the eight-year-old and his impoverished family have joined the ranks of the nation's homeless, and hope is running low. In a bid to outrun Social Services, the Poduskas crisscross the nation, hitching rides to "anywhere else."For the next eighteen years, the semi-literate young man finds refuge in his anger - and atheism. How could there be a God, with such suffering? Yet unbeknownst to Bernard, even in those darkest of days, the Lord walked by his side. And without realizing the path he was on, the unconquerable Bernard Poduska began a miraculous journey toward the peace of the gospel.Brigham Young University professor Bernard Poduska takes readers on an incredible and personal journey in this chain of reminiscences: from his young fight for survival on the streets to his triumphant rise among the ranks of BYU's most distinguished professors. More than just a rags to riches memoir, this unflinchingly candid tale documents one man's incredible transformation from an ardent anti-Christian into a faithful man of God.

    Maggie was shot 17 times and subjected to cruelty and torture, before being rescued from Lebanon and brought to live in the UK by a determined and loving young woman called Kasey.As Maggie struggled to overcome her injuries, every day was a fight to rehabilitate her. But Kasey was convinced that what she had found in this little dog was someone just as determined to live and love as she was.This is the incredible story of their journey together: a story of hope, unconditional love and never giving up.

    These were the animals on the sick list with which Oliver Graham-Jones was presented on his first day as veterinary officer of London Zoo. It was 1950, and the care of wild animals in zoos was in its infancy. Previously sick animals had been placed in the care of their keepers, kept from public view, and if they didn't respond to traditional medications allowed to pass quietly away. But Oliver was to change all this. A pioneer of many of the techniques now used by vets around the world, he was instrumental in building the first animal hospital, and in moving London Zoo away from its Victorian past into the high-tech world of modern veterinary medicine. In Zoo Tails, he tells us about some of the animals he cared for: what it felt like when he was faced with an escaped bear or an injured elephant; and what he did when called upon to perform a colostomy on a python, or when he was asked to fit one of the ravens in the Tower of London with a wooden leg. If a dangerous animal escaped or required urgent medical attention, Oliver Graham-Jones was always on hand, ready for any eventuality. Frequently describing himself as quaking with fear, he

    Personally, I think the eye-catching cover shot of me in my pajamas is reason enough. (By the way, those are my real kids on the cover, and yes, those are my actual ankles. No, I'm not retaining water.)What you're holding in your hands is a very funny and sometimes remarkably poignant look at fathers, not from the mother's point of view or the child's, but from the dad's side. Which is why it's called Tales from the Dad Side.It's filled with stories of what it's like to be a dad and a son, from a child's first day of kindergarten to the awkward sex talk and right up to the day the always-practical dad tries to pay for college with bonus miles. I was there for every landmark in my children's lives, except the day I was on the riding lawn mower and missed my son's first words, which my wife insists were “trust fund.”As children get older, the lessons of the father get harder, like teaching my son how to shave just as my father taught me, with a rusty double-edged safety razor. At the end of my dad's lesson, I emerged from the bathroom nicked and gouged, looking like an extra from a Quentin Tarantino film. My more civilized son is a Norelco man. With my high-school-age daughters, I promised them a day on which I'd take them anywhere and do anything with them they wanted, expecting them to ask for dinner and a movie; I was horrified when they told me they wanted all of us to get manicures and pedicures together. That was not the answer I was expecting; it was like discovering Lou Dobbs was an illegal alien.Over the course of raising three children, I have learned with my wife that fathers are different from mothers. That could be the greatest understatement since Noah turned on the Weather Channel and found out that the next forty days called for a 20 percent chance of light rain.The truth is, fatherhood is like Wikipedia: some parts based in fact, others just made up along the way. And while bookstores are filled with tales of mothers, their children and families, there are few from the dad's side. Now, as a public service, I'm doing my part to right this wrong.I sincerely hope this answers your questions. If perhaps it's not exactly your cup of tea, I bet you've got a father or mother in your life who'd like the stone-cold truth about dads. Besides, for the same money, you can either put three gallons of gas in your car or take home this book, which has a highway rating of 29 smiles an hour.Steve Doocy

    Both funny and insightful That'd Be Right is part memoir, part personal history of Australia over the last thirty years. It's a biographical trip told through sport, and families and William's own experiences. He writes: 'As with A Man's Got to Have a Hobby I weave in and around the events that have held such fascination for this country over the last thirty years or so, connecting them all with the progression of a life.' Some of these events would be considered momentous, some small and personal. And all are seen through William's eyes. They range from a day at the Melbourne Cup with his mother where too many champagnes and too few winners were picked; a swimming carnival early in the morning after a gloomy and long federal election the night before; watching truly surreal Grand Final moments in a pub with a group of odd and unknown bar companions. William also writes about a night at the cricket with his son, which shows how things can change and oddly come full circle.

    Like her father, she came to love the Galapagos and to dream of having a life there. Her experience was filled with the perils and incomparable pleasures of living on the Galapagos.

    In this warm-hearted memoir, Ingrid King shares the story of Buckley, a joyful, enthusiastic and affectionate tortoiseshell cat she meets while managing a veterinary hospital. When Ingrid leaves her job at the veterinary hospital to start her own business, Buckley comes home to live with her and Amber, another tortoiseshell cat who had adopted the author several years earlier. Buckley is diagnosed with heart disease after only two years of living with Ingrid, and caring for Buckley through her illness only deepens the bond between cat and human. Interspersed with well-researched information about cat health in general, and heart disease in particular, the author describes the challenges and rewards of managing illness in a feline companion, and ultimately helping her through the final transition. Ingrid shares both the day-to-day joys of living with a special cat as well as the profound grief that comes with losing a beloved animal companion."Buckley's Story" is a celebration of the soul connection between animals and humans, a connection that is eternal and transcends the physical dimension.

    The intrepid journalist longs for a quiet, simple life far from the filth and noise of the big city. And he thinks he'll find it in Creeslough. "No News at Throat Lake" From the moment Donegan arrives in the quaint Irish village, he isplunged into the problems and pitfalls of rural living. First, he needs todrain his home of water. Then he needs to find a job. After a brief and bloody stint as a Creeslough farmer -- dubbed "Quentin Tarantino's "All Creatures Great and Small"" -- Donegan decides to go back to his writing roots.He takes a job at the Tirconaill Tribune, a blindly idealistic, libel-slinging tabloid run by two men and a dog. Thus begins a passionate love affair between a big-city hack and a small-town rag.Sublimely funny and effortlessly hip, "No News at Throat Lake" is a refreshing memoir of Irish life and times. Filled with unexpected curiosities and predicaments, it's a hilarious, sharp-edged portrayal that ponders what every foreigner wants to know about Ireland -- "what's it like to live there, anyway?"

    They had mapped the route, brought three GPSs for backup, refrigerators full of food, and volunteers for help. But traveling in three RVs with twenty-five dogs turned out to be a bigger ordeal than he anticipated. Rosenfelt recounts the adventure with humor and warmth and tells how he and his wife became passionate foster parents for rescue dogs, culminating in the creation of the Tara Foundation.

    So when Sam heard a woman telling his mum that her cat had just had kittens, Sam pleaded to go and see them.Helen's heart melted as Sam held one of the kittens in his hands with a look of total adoration. In a trice the deal was done - the kitten would be delivered when she was big enough to leave her mother.A week later, Sam was dead. Not long after, a little black kitten was delivered to the grieving family. Totally traumatised by Sam's death, Helen had forgotten all about the new arrival. After all, that was back in another universe when Sam was alive.Helen was ready to send the kitten back, but Sam's younger brother wanted to keep her, identifying with the tiny black kitten who'd also lost her brothers. When Rob stroked her fur, it was the first time Helen had seen him smile since Sam's death. There was no choice: the kitten - dubbed Cleo - had to stay.Kitten or not, there seemed no hope of becoming a normal family. But Cleo's zest for life slowly taught the traumatised family to laugh. She went on to become the uppity high priestess of Helen's household, vetoing her new men, terrifying visiting dogs and building a special bond with Rob, his sister Lydia, Helen - and later a baby daughter.

    Here, in brief essays, she traces a tender and honest portrait of her complicated parents--her exuberant, creative mother; her steady, supportive father--and of the bittersweet moments that accompany a child's transition to caregiver.And here, braided into the overall narrative, Renkl offers observations on the world surrounding her suburban Nashville home. Ringing with rapture and heartache, these essays convey the dignity of bluebirds and rat snakes, monarch butterflies and native bees. As these two threads haunt and harmonize with each other, Renkl suggests that there is astonishment to be found in common things: in what seems ordinary, in what we all share. For in both worlds--the natural one and our own--"the shadow side of love is always loss, and grief is only love's own twin."Illustrated by the author's brother, Billy Renkl, Late Migrations is an assured and memorable debut.

    Secrets of a Sparrow, her inspirational and intimate memoir, which takes its title from a favorite spiritual her mother sang to her, focuses on just that: the pain and pleasure of getting to number one and staying there, along with the lessons learned and the lessons taught. Diana Ross's onstage electricity and allure are here transposed to the page. With earthiness and humor, the lady looks back - and she isn't singing the blues. On the contrary, she's writing in a clear, confident voice about the life she's worked so hard to build - the early struggle followed by supreme success, the two marriages and five children, the Oscar nomination and countless music honors, the brilliant business acumen. Secrets of a Sparrow gives us the three-dimensional self-portrait of a glamorous woman who prizes her role as wife and mother every bit as much as her spectacular career, to whom love is right up there with fame. Always true to herself, Diana Ross is the ultimate entertainer, aiming to please but never compromise - and she's not about to start now. Elegantly designed and filled with memorable photographs - many never seen before - Secrets of a Sparrow is as stunning as Diana Ross herself.

    But when he arrived, Sherman was in such bad shape he could barely move, and his hair was coming out in clumps. Chris decided to undertake a radical rehabilitation program designed not only to heal Sherman's body but to heal his mind as well. It turns out the best way to soothe a donkey is to give it a job, and so Chris decided to teach Sherman how to run. He'd heard about burro racing--a unique type of race where humans and donkeys run together in a call-back to mining days--and decided he and Sherman would enter the World Championship in Colorado.Easier said than done. In the course of Sherman's training, Chris would have to recruit several other runners, both human and equine, and call upon the wisdom of burro racers, goat farmers, Amish running club members, and a group of irrepressible female long-haul truckers. Along the way, he shows us the life-changing power of animals, nature, and community.

    For many they’re as close as children; for some they may be our only children. And while most of us can expect that our children will outlive us, sadly, our pets almost never do.Losing a pet can be as difficult as losing any other family member; we grieve, we miss them, and, mostly, we want closure, to know that our furry, feathered, or scaled friends are okay, wherever they are.For years, animal communicator Sonya Fitzpatrick has helped pet owners cope with the loss of their beloved companions. Many of them ask the same questions: Is my pet happy? Why did this happen? Is it okay to get another pet? Using her personal experiences as well as the stories of the families she’s worked with, Sonya sheds some light on the questions that every grieving pet owner has, and assures the reader that there are, in fact, no sad dogs (or cats or birds or turtles or horses or cows) in heaven.

    But for many years Maeve was a journalist, writing for The Irish Times.From 'The Student Train' to 'Plane Bores', 'Bathroom Joggers' to 'When Beckett met Binchy', these articles have all the warmth, wit and humanity of her fiction. Arranged in decades, from the 1960s to the 2000s, and including Maeve's first and last ever piece of writing for The Irish Times, the columns also give a fascinating insight into the author herself.With an introduction written by her husband, the writer Gordon Snell, this collection of timeless writing reminds us of why the leading Irish writer was so universally loved.