DEAR ABBY: The letter about club drugs really hit home. I would like to warn all young women about the potential for their drinks to be "dosed" with these drugs without their knowledge.

I went to a neighborhood bar over Thanksgiving weekend, and found myself feeling very woozy and overintoxicated for the amount I had to drink. I had left my drink on the bar while I went to use the ladies room, and when I came back, it tasted strange. Since it was a new drink, I assumed the bartender had mixed it differently.

Shortly after consuming this drink, I became sick to my stomach and lightheaded. A fellow I had chatted with -- and who coincidentally had offered to watch my drink -- started asking me questions about how I felt and if I wanted a place to crash. I have no doubt he had less than innocent intentions.

Fortunately, two gentlemen by the names of Andrew and Chris came to my aid. They stayed by my side, talking to me, keeping me alert, calling a car service for me and making sure the other guy didn't bother me.

I left the bar before thanking them; so, Abby, please let me thank them now.

Ladies: Do not leave your drink unattended, no matter what! And if the drink tastes "funny," don't drink it! While most of these drugs are tasteless and odorless, others have a salty taste. Just be careful! And to all the Andrews and Chrises out there -- thank you. -- CHRISTINE IN MIDLOTHIAN, VA.

DEAR CHRISTINE: You are a lucky young woman. You had a very close call. The young man who doctored your drink is a predator.

Your comments about never leaving a drink unattended are important. I hope young people will pay attention. It may seem like a cold reality, but it's part of being streetwise and self-protective.

DEAR ABBY: I am a volunteer at a local animal shelter, and I'm deeply concerned about pet owners who do not take full responsibility for the safety of their pets. Every day dogs and cats are brought in off the streets without tags or identification. Many of them are wonderful, loving pets who belong to someone who didn't bother to put identification on them for one reason or another. As a result, thousands of these wonderful animals are put to death every year because their owners can't be located.

Abby, it is heartbreaking to have to euthanize healthy animals due to lack of shelter space and available homes. Please inform your readers of the importance of putting ID tags on their pets. It could save a lot of heartache. -- ANIMAL LOVER IN BEND, ORE.

DEAR ANIMAL LOVER: I'm pleased to publicize this important reminder to pet owners. Dogs and cats are curious creatures who often like to wander. If the animal is picked up, proper identification can literally mean the difference between life and death, so please don't procrastinate.

For an excellent guide to becoming a better conversationalist and a more attractive person, order "How to Be Popular." Send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby Popularity Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: Usually I do not interject my opinion to total strangers. However, as my wife and I were sitting at a table in a mall, there were two women at the next table. One of them had with her a screaming infant in a buggy. Finally, the mother lifted the baby into her arms and began bouncing it around. The baby cried even more, so the infant was put back in the buggy with a disgusted thrust as the baby continued to scream.

I spoke up, saying, "The baby may be thirsty." The mother found a bottle full of water and stuck it into the baby's mouth. The baby not only stopped crying, but attacked the water as if its life was dependent upon it.

I have heard women say about crying babies, "Don't worry -- the baby is just exercising her lungs." Abby, a baby's cry is a signal that something is wrong.

When a woman first becomes pregnant, a nurse in her doctor's office should instruct her about care for a crying baby. When the baby cries: Is she thirsty? Is he hungry? Is the baby wet and in need of changing? Is she too hot? Too cold? Are the bed clothes wrapped so tightly around the baby or his arms or legs that they are shutting off the circulation? (Lift the baby completely out of the crib and look things over.) The baby might also have an extremity caught in the buggy parts.

Finally, if it is none of the above, the baby might be sick. Learn how to take the infant's temperature. If the temperature is above 100 degrees F, take the baby immediately to the emergency room unless his or her doctor is willing and able to see the infant immediately. -- RETIRED DOCTOR IN SCOTTSDALE, ARIZ.

DEAR DOCTOR: Since babies don't come with directions included, that's excellent advice, for which I thank you.

Many books have been written about the care of newborns, and parenting classes are available through hospitals, some high schools and community colleges. However, your letter provides a quick "ready reference" for a parent on the run.

DEAR ABBY: Everyone, children and adults, who gets lost or is in danger should know Morse code for SOS. It's easy. Just learn this: . . . - - - . . .

You can yell it, tap it out, blow it on your car horn, blow it on a whistle, write it (in very large print) into sand, or lay large rocks on a beach spelling the SOS. The Morse code by voice is: "DIT DIT DIT-DAH DAH DAH-DIT DIT DIT." Many people know this SOS signal -- Scouts, airmen, ham radio operators, boaters, etc. If you think you're in trouble, and know you're within hearing distance, yell, "MAYDAY!"

I learned Morse code in flight school and never forgot the SOS call. Please print this, Abby. I want no one -- ever -- to be in need of an SOS and not know how to send it. -- FEMALE PILOT IN RANCHO MIRAGE, CALIF.

DEAR FEMALE PILOT: Since I don't know Morse code for "thank you," I offer my gratitude for your letter in English. The SOS is a handy bit of information to have. Even if one never has to use it, it's good insurance.

Abby shares her favorite recipes in two booklets: "Abby's Favorite Recipes" and "Abby's More Favorite Recipes." To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 per booklet ($4.50 each in Canada) to: Dear Abby Booklets, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included in price.)

DEAR ABBY: The letter from "In Limbo in Washington" prompted me to write. I, too, was widowed suddenly several years ago. Because of my strong church upbringing, I mistakenly believed that a church would be a safe place to meet stable, good "Christian" men.

Wrong! The men I met in church were as fallible as those I met anywhere else.

I encountered men who were just like those I would have met in any singles club or bar every day except Sunday, and "barracudas" trolling for victims. The majority of them were either retired or unemployed, and looking for a "sugar mama" to support them or supplement their income. If they were still unmarried in their 40s, there was usually a very good reason for it.

One of my friends from church had been engaged to a fellow from the group who pestered her for sex prior to their marriage. When she finally gave in, he treated her with such disrespect and disgust that she ended the relationship -- considering it a valuable lesson learned.

I briefly dated a fellow who, after my constant questioning about his marital status, finally admitted he was only "separated" and was looking for a lady to "help him make up his mind" as to whether he wanted to divorce his wife or not!

Then there was the desperate jewelry designer with the ego problem who had more earrings and piercings in his ears than I did; the gay man trying to find a woman to marry to convince his elderly parents he wasn't gay; and finally, the fellow who thought he was the reincarnation of a 15th-century pope. They were all loyal churchgoers. I also met men who thought I would be vulnerable and easy-pickings because I was a young widow. They found out differently.

So, where did I finally meet my handsome, sweet husband? We met at a local dance bar when I was so disgusted I was ready to join a convent even though I am not Catholic.

Please, Abby, warn single women not to automatically assume that all churchgoers are honest, upstanding citizens. They are human, just like the rest of us. Also, tell "Limbo" to dump that charming -- but still married -- S.O.B. because the minute she's out of the picture, he'll find another victim. Men like that don't change. -- NO NAME, NO CITY, NO CHURCH

DEAR NO, NO, NO: Your experience proves the truth of something I've said before that bears repeating. A church is not a museum for saints -- it's a hospital for sinners. Because a man is seated in the pew next to you at 10 o'clock on Sunday morning doesn't guarantee that he's 100 percent virtuous. It simply means he's usually more sober than one you'll meet in a bar at 10 o'clock on Saturday night.

DEAR ABBY: I read the item you printed saying that if the three wise men had been women, they would have asked for directions, arrived on time, cleaned the stable, helped deliver the baby, made a casserole and brought practical gifts.

What B.S.! They would have first gone to the beauty salon, had a wash, set and manicure, then home to pick out a proper outfit. Then they would have changed the outfit five times, called everybody they knew to yak about the trip, and arrived late. VERY late. -- STAN GERSHBEIN, FORT LAUDERDALE, FLA.

DEAR STAN: Spoken like a true male chauvinist. However, you may have been topped by Paul Harvey. He said what would REALLY have happened was that halfway to the oasis, the camel would have broken down because no one remembered to check his water level.

To receive a collection of Abby's most memorable -- and most frequently requested -- poems and essays, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby's "Keepers," P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)