The Accidental Rescue Org: Holifield Science Learning Center

Making a difference in the life of a dog or cat or horse isn't easy work for any rescue group, but how much more difficult is it to garner support for animals that can't muster a soulful expression or that trigger the natural flight instinct in would-be benefactors?

When the Holifield Science Learning Center -- part of the Independent School District in Plano, Texas -- opened the doors of its Living Materials Center in 1989, its mission statement wasn't to function as a rescue org for unwanted animals. However, with nearby zoos and rescues overwhelmed, it quickly became the go-to spot for surrendering reptiles that had grown too big for their habitats or simply grown out of favor.

Now I've always loved lizards, especially big lizards. So when I decided a vegetarian iguana would fit my lifestyle, my sister-in-law pointed me to Holifield as a possibility for picking up a rescue. When I learned that a large percentage of iguanas are given up because they quickly outgrow the 30- or 55-gallon aquarium they're originally -- and inevitably -- kept in, I knew my first iguana would not be a baby and that I'd have to build a suitable habitat before even looking at adoptees. Only when the 4-foot wide by 7-foot long by 6-foot high cage was ready did I head over to Holifield to see who was available.

What surprised me most was the eclectic nature of homeless reptiles that wound up in the comfy habitats occupying a large backroom in the main learning center. Aside from a variety of colorful lizards, there were corn snakes and boas and even a small alligator! There were about a dozen iguanas waiting to be rehomed. A couple of the males were heavy-boned, heavy-jowled and obviously very strong. The largest of the males would have been especially impressive if he'd still had his tail intact. In fact, three of the iguanas were missing tails, probably due to trauma. Iguanas have a special defensive mechanism that allows their tails to break easily away from their bodies at need; the tails may or may not grow back depending on where the tail breaks, age of the iguana, and other factors.

 

While I was trying to decide which of the igs snoozing on branches in their cage would come home with me, one of the animal care workers brought in three carriers with another six iguanas that had been abandoned that morning. Whatever dent I thought my rescue was going to make in the number of homeless lizards at Holifield, it was clear that dent wasn't going to be large.

In the end, I chose a two-year-old juvenile, probably female, who appeared healthy and energetic.

There was no adoption fee. Possibly for a smaller, more desirable lizard there would have been. I left as generous a donation as I could, put the lizard in a box in my car trunk and brought her home. That was almost 9 years ago, and Fafnir is with me still.

There are so many people engaged in and efforts around rescue work for dogs and cats and equines -- even for Big Cats and elephants -- that it's sometimes easy to forget that mammals aren't the only creatures being neglected, abused or simply abandoned when they're no longer convenient to have around. I'm forever grateful that the good folk at the Holifield Science Learning Center not only provide an up-close-and-natural animal experience for school-age children, but that they also care enough to provide shelter for the reptiles surrendered to them and then to look for good homes for their rescues on the other side. Because without them, I wouldn't have this adorable face to greet me every morning:

Upcoming Blog Tour: I Love Rescue Dogs - Do YOU Have a Story to Share?

The ever-energetic Landra Graf, who guest posts here every month with recaps of how the rescue org she's involved with -- Pawsibilities R Endless -- is doing, is busy at work putting together a blog tour around rescues. The 8-week tour starts Feb 20. All the details, including the themes for each week, are here.

Animal Junkies will be participating in the tour, and I'd love to have as many stories each week as possible. For those of you who would like to contribute but don't have a blog of your own or simply have only one or two stories to share, send me your stories (pictures most welcome!) and I'll be happy to post them here and promote them via Twitter and Facebook. We'll share our links with the Small Town Rescue blog who'll them share them out along with other participating blogs.

Please check the weekly themes on Landra's site and send me your post the week before so I can get it scheduled at the appropriate time.

If you've already contributed rescue stories, I'll be sure to link to them during the appropriate week so new visitors to the blog can easily find them. I may even repost one or two depending on how much new material does or doesn't come in.

During the tour, I'll be giving away some Vet Tech Tales ebooks and a few SECTOR Cs as well to people dropping by and commenting here. Plus there'll be a special enticement or two donated by this blog to help out the Pawsibilities rescue. Details to come!

Rescue Puppies

Today's guest post is by Landra Graf.

Puppies! Yes, those cute, tiny fur balls who draw us in with the pouting looks and absorbing stares. Puppies are a big part of rescues, and Pawsibilities has a lot of experience when it comes to puppies. We typically have at least one puppy at any given time in one of our foster homes. Fostering these energetic animals is a challenge and a joy.

Some of the challenges include potty training, breaking bad habits (like chasing cats), expensive vaccinations, and preventing potential disease. In our neck of the woods, the most debilitating disease is Parvo. Parvo comes in two forms, both of which are extremely contagious and deadly. Parvo in the right conditions can survive on inanimate objects for up to 5 months. Pawsibilities has seen its fair share of Parvo outbreaks in the local pound, and has assisted multiple times in attempting to save puppies and adult dogs affected by the disease. You can learn more about it at PetEducation.com.

I won’t go on about the challenges or horrible things that can happen with puppies because this post is also about the good things. Puppies bring lots of joy and energy to a foster home. Similar to children, puppies tend to light up the room when they enter. Their antics and discoveries are just as enjoyable as watching a child walk for the first time or hearing a child’s first word. Puppies are also typically the first to be adopted the fastest from a rescue. With a puppy, owners and fosters have the opportunity to mold and train the dog—which is far easier than training adult dogs with formed behaviors or bad habits.

With that said, I would like to present to you Pawsibilities’ current puppies available for adoption!

First is Brooklyn, a Boston Terrier/Chihuahua/Dachshund mix. She was dumped in the country near our home base, on a junction of 2 major highways. She’s only 8 months old and is currently working her way through the regular vaccinations she needs. Brooklyn’s favorite things to do include cuddling on the couch and giving kisses. Of course, she’s learning to house train and is getting acclimated to the idea.

Then we have the rough and tumble Abbott! A 5 month-old Terrier/Shepherd Mix, he’s a big fan of squeaky toys and attention, but is also up for car rides and walks well on a leash. This little guy loves to play, wrestling with anybody who’s willing. House training is going extremely well, and all signs point to the fact that Abbott is quick learner.

So you can see we have some cute puppies. They never stay with us long, and we love each one to bits. With the challenges come the joys too. Their pictures tell that story. When you think of adopting, remember that puppies, like children, can be expensive. But they reward love and care with many years of play, fun times, and the companionship they provide.

____________________

Pawsibilities…Are Endless is a tiny rescue located in Central-West Missouri not far from Warrensburg, Sedalia and Whiteman AFB. We specialize in helping animals in need find their forever homes. To assist in these efforts, not only do we provide local adoptions, but we work with other rescues to find homes for our furry packages across the United States. In Pawsibilities' mind, nothing compares to helping an animal find their happy-ever-after.

Black Dog Syndrome

As we slide into the holiday season, I'd like to offer a reminder to consider adoption, rescue or fostering when the time is right to open your heart and home to new forever friends, whatever their species.

It's your reward as well as theirs. I know. I'm mom to a number of rescues and strays myself, animals that either came from a shelter or found their way into my life without my planning for them: 3 dogs, 3 cats, 2 goats and 2 chickens.

Many of you are already aware of breed discrimination when it comes to shelter dogs. Pit bulls, Dobermans, German shepherds, and rottweilers often aren't given the same chance to find a new home as the dogs without breed stigma have. Did you know there's also color discrimination at work too? Black dogs, mainly large ones, are often overlooked at shelters. Are they too common? Not colorful enough? Too intimidating?

Please take a few moments to watch and share this video to help educate others about the plight of black dogs in shelters around the world.

A new Vet Tech Tale will be waiting when you're back from holiday shopping.

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow animal junkies, no matter where in the world you are. And special thanks to everyone who has given a beastie or two a home not just for the holidays but for forever.

Rescue Orgs Have Much To Be Thankful For

This week's guest post is by Landra Graf.

Timmy

It’s November. A time to give thanks. For our rescue, Pawsibilities, November is indeed a month that we can reflect on some of the profound things we’ve accomplished this year and give thanks to those who have helped us in our efforts. During these times, giving thanks is the one true way to offer appreciation to those who may think their efforts to assist go unnoticed. So here is Pawsibilities’ Top 10 list of things our rescue is thankful for. We hope that you’ll think of some of these ‘thankful’ things as the season of giving starts, and possibly gain ideas for other ways to help, support, or become involved.

1. Our families.  In rescue, the best support comes from those closest to you. At times, helping the animals takes away from family time. Without the backing from those you live with it’s hard to keep going, and fortunately those involved in our rescue receive a ton of help from the ones closest to our hearts.

2. 

   Misty

   Foster Families. Fostering a homeless animal can be a trying but very rewarding experience. Finding families willing to sacrifice their homes and time to help these animals is also difficult. Our rescue has had several come and go, but we’ve had others that go the distance.
   Including a special family that has fostered and even adopted a foster; we couldn’t do this without that family.
3. Other Rescues. The heartache of being in rescue is the realization that you can’t save them all. We rely on other rescues to help assist in the saving. Sometimes these rescues can help and sometimes they can’t. One rescue that has always been there for Pawsibilities is Colorado Animal Rescue Express. With their help we have been able to save more animals this year then we could have ever dreamed of. Their sense of responsibility goes way beyond their own borders and if you have a chance you should visit their site.

4. 

   Joe

   Other businesses. Animal lovers are everywhere, and over the last year we’ve learned that businesses are willing to help if you ask—from boarders keeping an open kennel for us to pet stores that continuously host our pet fairs. This year we’ve been blessed with their support.
5. The fundraisers. When I say fundraiser, I mean people. In rescue you run across those that want to help, but they may not have the skills needed to care for a foster. We’ve met several, and in return they help by organizing fundraisers for our group. Every little bit helps and those fundraisers can make the difference between helping 1 dog to helping 20.

6. 

   Shy

   Our furry foster dogs. Most of the dogs we rescue have been through hell and back, yet at the end of the day these dogs, once in our homes, become the most loveable and appreciative animals. At times they also provide some much needed comic relief.
7. The social community. We wouldn’t be anywhere without Twitter, this wonderful blog (thank you, Phoenix), Pet Finder, or Facebook. Every rescue should be using these sites not only to promote their dogs, but to connect with others who may know something you don’t. Time again when we’ve been in a snag or needed additional help we’ve found that help through the connections that these sites provide. So don’t discount the help you can find in the most surprising sources.

8. 

   Jack

   9 & 10. The Rescue Community. This one mention takes up the last three. When our rescue first started we had no idea of the scope and reach other rescues or people in this community had. We were located in a small, overpopulated area and wondered how we would find homes for the dogs we were rescuing. We soon learned that there is a massive, international web consisting of directors, fosters, transporters, cross posters, and the list goes on. Soon our animals were being saved by fabulous rescues in Colorado, Nebraska, and Minnesota. There are also groups that are advocating against Breed Specific Legislation and groups focused on education. Research and communication have certainly opened our eyes to the opportunities and the passion of being in the rescue world.

Jesse

So, as you sit down to your Thanksgiving dinners and surround yourself with the ones you love, foster dogs included, remember to give thanks to those in your personal rescue top 10 or the ones we’ve mentioned.

Pawsibilities…Are Endless is a tiny rescue located in Central-West Missouri not far from Warrensburg, Sedalia and Whiteman AFB. We specialize in helping animals in need find their forever homes. To assist in these efforts, not only do we provide local adoptions, but we work with other rescues to find homes for our furry packages across the United States. In Pawsibilities' mind, nothing compares to helping an animal find their happy-ever-after.




Madison

 

It’s a God-Thing: Part Two – Lady

Today’s guest post is from V.K. Whetham.

Lady (R) with Rocky (L)

Recently I was sobbing. 

Now, I must insist to make it known that I am not prone to fits of sorrow, frustration or anger. My father, who has never been one to give compliments, has given me exactly three that I can remember. Since this is the year where I will reach the exact middle of my life expectancy – if those “How Long Will You Live” calculators have any accuracy at all – and because I see my father as a very wise man, these compliments have meant more to me than just about anything else in the world.

I say this with no negative feelings or sarcasm.

What he said was, “I’ve always seen you as the most positive of people.”

This was in response to the first sentence and the second.

I was sobbing because I am a mother of a teenager. Being mother to a teenager is the scariest, loneliest, least fulfilling and most agonizing state of existence. It is all part of a great plan where we will give up our children to their futures, willingly. In fact, many of us will not only voluntarily show them the door, some of us will pack their bags for them and set said bags on the porch. Attached to one bag may be a bus ticket. Nothing else.

I wasn’t left to cry alone. Lady, my 10-year-old Mastiff, climbed onto the couch next to me, arthritic hips crackling, and then set her head on my hip. She then gently, quietly began to moan. This is Lady’s way of communicating. She moans from the couch so I’ll bring her treats from the kitchen. She moans at her water dish when it is empty. She moans when she itches and she moans quite loudly when she is outside in the rain and would prefer to be inside. She doesn’t know English but she does know the universal language of moaning.

“Patience,” I read in her big brown eyes.

“But –” I blubbered.

“Patience,” Lady moaned.

I petted her. She moaned slightly louder, then laid a big paw on my thigh.

Now I will tell you the secret of an optimistic life. First, be born into a family that loves you. Second, be born into a slightly dysfunctional family. Third, succeed. Fourth, join a profession where you have the opportunity to serve others. Then you will know how grateful to be. 

I looked down at my beautiful Lady – and I no longer felt like crying.

I adopted Lady from the Humane Society. I hadn’t planned to do it. It was an accident. 

I had just purchased a home and it wasn’t even a home that I really wanted. But it had “potential.” I fall in love with anything that has “potential.” Ask any of my exes. They all had potential.

Point of truth: Don’t date anyone with “potential.” Date someone who has lived up to their potential.  

Anyway, my new home had potential, which meant what it really had was a backyard, if one defines backyard as being LARGE: a 7000 square foot lot with weeds, a canoe with a hole in its bottom and a white wooden fence in need of repair. It is exactly 7 times bigger than my house. I didn’t see the weeds, the fence or the canoe. I saw gardens, grass, fountains and birdbaths. I smelled fertilizer and the acrid scent of herbicide. And I saw a dog. Maybe two.   

I was surfing “how to” gardening websites and ordering bulbs for spring planting (I purchased my home in August) with my computer resting on boxes to be unpacked. I was in seventh heaven. I had outlined ideas how I was going to landscape my new backyard before I set up my bedroom. So it was only natural for me to visit the Human Society to look at dogs. Not to adopt, but to plan.  

That’s when I saw Lady, a beautiful, red-brindle Mastiff-cross. I read her biography. She was 4-6 years old and had been at the Human Society for 3 years after being taken from an abusive owner. Apparently, they thought she was part pit bull and hoped she would be a good guard dog. They tried to make it so by being mean and abusive. Since Lady doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, it didn’t work. Lady licks, eats and guards the couch or bed, depending if it is day or night. She also moans. But she is not mean. She would only defend herself from an extreme situation.

So there she was waiting in the Big Dog Pen with other Big Dogs that were not very nice to her. They bullied her even though she was the largest, weighing in at 109 lbs. But she patiently waited, licking visitors with her tongue year after year after year. Three years is a long time to be waiting for a forever home, especially when you’re a dog whose life expectancy is 10. That’s 25 years in human time. Twenty-five years is a long time to be locked up. Murderers in this country get less time with good behavior.

I decided she’d done her time, and within 10 minutes after meeting her I was writing a $35 check and loading her up in my car. Best $35 I have ever spent. I should have paid them more.

Lady spent the first 3 months living by choice in an 8X10 room with the washer and dryer. She came out for bathroom breaks and food. She growled when anyone approached her but would let us pet her. I just figured that if this was the best she would ever be, then so be it. At least she wasn’t waiting anymore. I promised her that whatever life she had left would not be spent locked up with a bunch of bullies because someone had criminally harmed her. We punish our victims too often in this country. 

I needn’t have worried. Eventually Lady found my bedroom with the big queen-size bed. It was dark in the back room and much quieter than living with the washer and dryer. Once she found the bed it was good-bye utility room. This meant she had to sleep with me where she learned to moan to be petted. It was also where I discovered she snores quite well – but I think she already knew how to do that. 

Then she found the couch. Lady will tolerate almost anything and anyone as long as she is on the couch or the bed. She will guard her bed or her couch.

She does hide in the utility room, underneath a folding table, when she hears thunder and fireworks. Fireworks should be banned and those that use them inside city limits should be sentenced to spending their next 4th of July at the Humane Society. In the Big Dog Pen.

After I started fostering dogs from the Wyo Herd Rescue, also an accident (all the best things in my life have come to me unexpectedly), I discovered that Lady is a therapy dogs for other dogs.  She has been my best companion and my strongest aid in fostering other dogs. If a dog, male or female, is overly aggressive or domineering, Lady gives them “the eye.” It’s not pretty. If the dog continues, she pins the wayward soul down while barking and growling in the offender’s face. She eventually lets the dog up, tail between their legs and without a scratch. A third warning has never been necessary.

Timid, shy and injured dogs are allowed to lie next to her. Her soft moans and body heat gives them comfort. She lets the puppies sit and bounce on her. She licks the wounds of the injured, cleans the dirty and defends the weak with that “eye” and sometimes a sterner warning. If the dogs play too rough, inside or out, she growls, also in warning. Rough play ends immediately. Children running through the house also get “the eye” and then a warning. They stop in their tracks as well.

Otherwise, children love her. They offer her a treat and she thanks them with a large, wet lick that makes them giggle. She’ll clean their faces as well. She is the perfect mom, the perfect therapist.

But it wasn’t any of these things that stilled my tears. It was one thought, “How Big is God?”

God is Big Enough to move my heart to accidentally adopt this beautiful dog. He is Big Enough to keep a gentle giant patiently waiting for her forever home, knowing she would be needed for the dozens and dozens of dogs that would follow her. He is Big Enough to remind a grieving mother that Lady was not alone nor forgotten, and neither am I. He is Big Enough to remind me that if Lady had patience for 3 years, who am I not to?

What did I hear when Lady moaned on my lap? Not pity but “Patience, He is Big Enough.”

What is the fifth element to living an optimistic life? Faith. It is remembering that God has his eye on the sparrow. Does he care less about his children or love them less?

He has a plan. It is for good and not for evil. Eight years ago when Lady entered a shelter, beaten and abused, he said to her, “I have a plan. Patience.”

Lady laid her paw on my leg and I heard, “Patience. He is here.”

~~~

Next time V.K. visits: Even cats find their way home. 

Adopt one, until there are none.

You Gotta Have Faith

This week's guest post is by Landra Graf.

When you work in rescue you realize that you can’t save every animal that crosses your path. If you could save every single one, then there would eventually be no reason for shelters and pounds to exist. But every once in a while you come across a sweetheart with a story so profound that you can’t turn your back on them – even when the odds are against you and the animal.

For Pawsibilities, Faith, our resident pittie is that animal. She was brought in to the Windsor Pound after she was found emaciated and running loose at a local gas station. For those who are not aware, emaciated is just another word for a malnourished, starved dog. Faith had just delivered a litter of pups, but the pups were never found. To make matters worse she was passing balloons and trash in her stool, and it was several days for all the mess in her system to clear.

This is Faith in her emaciated state.

With a little help from Colorado Animal Rescue Express, who contributed a high-calorie dog food, we were able to nurse Faith back to health while she was in the pound. At the time there wasn’t a single open spot in our rescue, but regardless we wanted to help. Faith turned around nicely, but 2 enemies were lurking in the background, neither of which we could fight while she was still being held in the pound.

Happy Tail Syndrome

The first one was Happy Tail Syndrome, which is when a dog’s tail is traumatized then keeps breaking open because they’re smacking it against a kennel, simply by wagging away. This tends to happen to a lot of dogs in the pound, but especially pit bulls.

The second enemy was a relative of a breeder actively attempting to adopt Faith for breeding purposes. While our rescue understands that breeding is not illegal, Faith, in our opinion, wasn’t fit enough to return to a breeding lifestyle. This poor girl was lucky to survive her pre-pound life without suffering from anxieties or additional health issues. Also, without a detailed vet visit there was no way to tell if Faith suffered from any disorders or other potential problems. With much discussion between our rescue and others we were able to successfully pull Faith from the pound, get her spayed, her tail docked, and board her until we could find a suitable adopter or rescue.

One of our rescue directors spends at least 4 days a week with Faith and since her original arrival Faith has made leaps and bounds towards recovery. She loves car rides, knows basic commands like ‘sit’ and ‘enter’, does extremely well with children, and has excellent leash skills. Her favorite thing to do is allow our rescue director’s son to pet her while she lies in his lap.  

We continue to search for Faith’s forever home, hoping there will come a day soon when this pittie can find a family that will love and care for her. If this girl’s journey has taught us anything it’s that you gotta have faith that things will work out, that you can make a difference, and that sometimes you’ll succeed.

For those interested in learning more about, fostering, or adopting Faith email Pawsibilities@ymail.com.

Pawsibilities…Are Endless is a tiny rescue located in Central-West Missouri not far from Warrensburg, Sedalia and Whiteman AFB. We specialize in helping animals in need find their forever homes. To assist in these efforts, not only do we provide local adoptions, but we work with other rescues to find homes for our furry packages across the United States. In Pawsibilities' mind, nothing compares to helping an animal find their happy-ever-after.

Rocky the Comeback Kid: It’s a God-Thing

This is a guest post by V.K. Whetham.

I remember the first day I met the small border collie like it was yesterday; some images just stick in your mind.  I picked him up from an animal shelter in a small, very rural town.  The entire shelter has ten kennels – and one of the runs is used as storage.

This little border collie was found by a sheriff’s deputy who undoubtedly saved him from death. The deputy had seen him several times on his patrols, clearly abandoned and becoming thinner by the day. Haunted by these sightings, the deputy searched for him on his day off.  After hours, he finally found the little guy and was able to coax him into a crate with pleas and food.    

The border collie was so thin every rib was visible. Dirty and shaved, he was every bit the picture of an orphaned waif. He was also terrified. It was quickly determined he wasn’t adoptable “as is,” and a search for a rescue began immediately. That’s how WyoHerd rescue and I got involved.

We have no idea how this little dog ended up all alone in rural Wyoming – far from any home, town or farm.  We don’t know why someone shaved him.  We don’t know if he fell off a truck or if he was a dump job.  Many people do dump dogs in rural areas knowing that some kind farmer will find their dog and give him/her a home.  People believe these dogs are better off dumped in the middle of nowhere than in a shelter where they could be euthanized.

People are mistaken. Dumped dogs more often than not end up dead from being hit by cars, starvation and disease. They are easy prey for predators. Sometimes they turn to hunting small farm animals or robbing rubbish bins to survive, and farmers shoot them.  Farmers don’t want strays mingling with their dogs because strays often carry disease and parasites, nor do they want their pets threatened or attacked by strays.   

We also didn’t know what this little dog’s name was – no tags, just a collar. I knelt down next to him and petted him. I whispered in his ear, “I’m naming you Rocky.  You’re going to be a great comeback story, just like that boxer Balboa.” Rocky peed on my sandals.

It took a few days to coax Rocky out of the crate and even more time before he didn’t run and hide when the doorbell rang. Rocky was fairly easy to housebreak, but marking was another problem.  He was only about a year old but had already started marking everything in sight – and when I say everything, I mean everything.  Once this behavior starts, it’s very hard to extinguish. 

Rocky had some things going for him that other rescues often don’t. He is a beautiful dog with remarkable markings. He is also an unusual color for a border collie – reddish/brown and white rather than black and white. At the time he was very young and small. He looks purebred, just smaller than most border collies. He was also in good health.

I didn’t have Rocky for very long when a couple called from out of state to adopt him. I talked to them twice on the phone, but I had some doubts. I told my rescue coordinator that I wasn’t sure about them. They claimed they wanted a “special needs” dog.  They said they were experienced with dogs and could tolerate the marking problem. Still, Rocky had a lot of needs; I was confident he would be a great dog but he his rehabilitation was going to take some time.  I wasn’t sure he was “ready.” They said they understood. They could handle it. And Rocky was adopted within two months.

This was in September, and by November a relationship I had been in for three years crumbled around me rather unexpectedly – well, unexpectedly for me anyway. It was a crushing blow. I was humiliated and horrified. The details are brutal. I ended up homeless, living with friends for a month until I could move back into my home I had rented out. I was paralyzed with grief for months.

In December, I received an email from the rescue coordinator. Rocky’s adopted family no longer wanted him. Turned out the marking behavior was more than they could handle, he began attacking their small poodle out of jealousy, he wasn’t very obedient, and the husband didn’t have the time to spend with him.  He was needy and demanded constant affection. Would I take Rocky until another home could be found for him? I emailed her back without hesitation. Rocky had a home; he just had to come home.  

So Rocky came home. He walked into the house without hesitation and folded himself into my arms. He hadn’t forgotten me either. My Mastiff, Lady, all 109 lbs. of her, jumped – okay stepped – from the couch onto the coffee table to get a better look at him, tail wagging, protruding butt wiggling. My Aussie sniffed him, snorted and, in her usual princess-like attitude, began to walk away. She didn’t get out of the living room before turning back. She licked his face. Even my princess, snobbish and particular about who she greets, couldn’t resist him. We were so happy; Rocky had come home. He really was the comeback kid!

Rocky didn’t demonstrate any of the problems he had at his first adopted home except for the marking, which has improved with time. He can be needy and demanding of affection, but with time and obedience this too has lessened. He still will occasionally mark when he’s upset or anxious.

Sometimes when people adopt special needs dogs they treat them like fragile figurines and don’t provide correction and obedience training. The problem with this is that dogs are pack animals and if guidance and corrections are not provided to anxious dogs, they become more anxious. They know they can’t be the leader of the pack and if their humans don’t provide the leadership, they become frightened, desperate and sometimes a bit bratty. 

Love, food, water and medical care are the bare minimums. Obedience, time and guidance allow dogs to feel safe.  It works the same for children.

Border collies are notoriously smart, and Rocky is no different. As I turn off the lights for bed, he rushes to the bedroom and curls up on the pillow next to mine. That’s his spot and no one is going to get it.  Also, he never lets me go to sleep without touching me. Sometimes it’s a paw on my shoulder or a tail across my legs, but always he is there. Remember Nick? Rocky became a bit jealous when Nick began to sit on the couch to be petted, so he would run to Nick’s bed and sit on it – staring at him. This made Nick nervous and Nick would go back to his bed so Rocky could have his spot back. This doesn’t work anymore because Nick doesn’t care if Rocky has his bed as long as he is sitting next to me, so Rocky lays on him now to get him to move.

Also like most Herd dogs, Rocky always has his eyes on me. He’s never underfoot but always near. He’s not a brave dog, so I suspect his plan is if danger approaches me, he’ll be there to show me a way to escape. Lady’s our muscle, and, at 109 lbs., she doesn’t run very fast – or ever. Rocky would probably convince her to guard our backs.     

Rocky’s return was salve to my open wounds. I realized when he returned things were going to get better, happiness would return and this too would pass. He offered renewed hope and optimism.   

I also saw it as a “God-Thing.” Some people say they don’t believe in God because they can’t see him. It’s hard to find something if you’re not looking for it. I don’t believe in coincidence. I don’t believe that Rocky came home by accident. I don’t believe he was found accidentally by a sheriff’s deputy or that he came home exactly when I was able to provide him with the care he needed. 

I believe something more was involved, something bigger. I believe he was a part of a bigger plan that was executed exactly in the manner it was meant to. I have no proof of this, of course. But how big is God? Certainly he’s big enough to save a little dog’s life and to bring him home when his family needed him the most. 

How big is God? So big that when I whispered in a little dog’s ear that he was going to be the Comeback Kid, God heard my promise and made sure it came true.  

~~~

V.K. will share Lady's story here soon!

Adopt one, until there are none.

Linda the Clown

This week's guest post is by Landra Graf.

Like some of the other stories on this blog, the best ones are about the animals that flourish after being saved from horrible circumstances. Linda the Clown is another example of why rescue work is rewarding.

Linda is a 14-month-old Basenji Shepherd Mix. This sweet girl was in Pawsibilities’ local pound, and when the local ACO (animal control officer) resigned from his position our rescue stepped up and brought Linda into our fold. When Pawsibilities got her, Linda’s first experience with us was a trip to the vet.

Side note: One of the reasons her position at the pound was dire is because she was originally mistaken for a pit bull. The town Pawsibilities is based in has laws that pit bulls and pit mixes are not allowed within city limits. This makes them extremely hard to adopt—and the first up on the list for euthanasia. Fortunately for us the vet was able to give her a positive identification as a Basenji Mix, which opened a lot more doors for her.

She had mange, and acted extremely terrified of everything—it didn’t matter if it was a person, a bug, a new blanket or treat. On top of the mange this baby was also suffering from an ear infection. Since that first day Linda has been with us for 5 months, and now she’s every bit of rambunctious puppy. In that time her personality has completely changed.

At first we thought she was the devil dog, and possibly psychotic.  She would tear into everything at her foster’s house. Threaten to chase cats with a gleam in her eye, and act completely hostile at Pet Fairs. Linda even took the time to tear up a doggie door at a local boarding facility that was holding her for us while her foster went on vacation. Unfortunately the facility owner has since banned Linda from the establishment, and in retrospect we realize that not everyone is good at boarding. At that point Linda had been a member of Pawsibilities for only a month, and likely thought she was being abandoned again. No one, animals or people, enjoys the idea of being cast aside.

A few more months behind us and Linda’s not afraid of anything. In fact, she’s shed her devil dog persona and replaced it with that of a clown. Her everyday antics and actions provide a ton of comic relief—from chasing paper towels to leaping over the couch. The couch trick is one of her favorites, and is a daily source of exercise. Her foster will fill a Kong toy with peanut butter and throw it back and forth over the couch. Linda will play chase for hours as long as the Kong keeps moving. 

The best part is when you talk to her; she’ll tilt her head to the side as if your sentences really bear some sort of important factor. In reality she could be just mesmerized or relieved at the sound of your voice.  She mimics Snoopy by sleeping on top of the dog house, and has a genuine love for gardening. Just don’t draw her attention to the carrots because she just raises her nose at them.

As time passes and this darling is avoided at Pet Fairs, like our girl Hope, we wonder if there will ever be a family for her. She’s only a year old and her behavioral issues are those any puppy experiences. Surprisingly she fits in well with the other dogs at her foster’s home, and some of them ignore her when she goes hyperactive ninja or decides to pole vault over people’s knees. 

At some point we hope that this precious bundle will get the chance to make others laugh and enjoy her cozy, snuggling ways. Until that point, we can only continue to help her grow, and keep her from chasing the cats. FYI: She typically stalks a cat in slow mo, and then runs away in the other direction.

Pawsibilities…Are Endless is a tiny rescue located in Central-West Missouri not far from Warrensburg, Sedalia and Whiteman AFB. We specialize in helping animals in need find their forever homes. To assist in these efforts, not only do we provide local adoptions, but we work with other rescues to find homes for our furry packages across the United States. In Pawsibilities' mind, nothing compares to helping an animal find their happy-ever-after.

Nick's Story

This is a guest post by V.K. Whetham.

Nick is a “special” dog, which is a polite way of saying his chance of being adopted is slim to none.

It is not because Nick is old or sick. He’s only 4 and in perfect health. Nor is he ugly or too black [ed: there is documented evidence black dogs are euthanized at a higher rate than dogs with any other trait]. He is a beautiful tri-color border collie/ Australian shepherd cross. That makes him a herd dog twice over, and in the West where there are more predators than people, more free range than fenced, a good herd dog may be the only insurance a rancher has against bankruptcy. We love our dogs here. We depend on them. They protect our homes, livestock and families. Even more than family members, they are a part of who we are.  

But Nick isn’t an ordinary herd dog. He has issues. So many issues that if he were a child he would very likely be shipped from one foster home to the next until landing in a residential group home and, finally, institutionalized in a psychiatric hospital. Because Nick is a dog and not a boy, his future was even more grim and in other circumstances he would have been destroyed. In fact, his final walk had already been planned when he got lucky and came to live with me instead.

Nick is a rescue from an animal hoarding situation. Although we can’t be sure, we believe he may have been born in the very cage he was rescued from when he was 2 years old. That’s a very long time to live in a cage. After months of trying, his rescuers determined he was unadoptable and a desperate search for a foster home began.

St. Jude is the patron saint of lost causes. I like to believe he and I would get along quite nicely. The good saint was looking after his own when he dropped Nick into my care.

I can still smell him. Within an hour of his arrival, my house smelled so bad it could have been a kennel. He had this huge Buddha belly but his legs were small, under-developed. They had atrophied. I will never forget the first time I put him into the backyard. He stood completely still and stared. He tiptoed across the grass, suspicion in every step. He didn’t know what grass was, had never felt in under his paws. He ran to a corner of the yard and shivered underneath a Lilac bush. He wouldn’t move. I had to put him on a leash to bring him back inside. Then he ran to his crate and cowered. We repeated this several times a day for 4 months.

It took many more months of coaxing before he would let me pet him or take food from my hand. It's clear he thought I would grab him or hurt him with the other hand. Months passed and still he wouldn’t willingly leave the crate. Finally, I had to take it away. Many anxious days followed when Nick paced and paced, looking desperately for his cage, all the time pleading with his eyes. I would sit next to him and sing – one lullaby after another, Christmas songs and hymns – the only songs I could remember. He tolerated me, but only just – tense and shivering, looking for a way to escape. One day he lay down and rolled over. It’s like he was saying, “If you insist on assaulting me with your horrible singing, scratch my belly while you’re doing it”. So I did.

Nick’s better. His progress has been slow but steady. There have been no big “Aha” moments. No ooohing or awwwing, just remembering how far he has come, one tiny little step at a time. Today, 18 months later, Nick almost looks normal and only the most astute stranger notices the fear in his eyes and asks, “What’s wrong with that dog?”

With me, he is calm now and all smiles. I laugh as I watch him swagger across the yard. I’ve never known a dog so careful about finding the right place to mark his presence. All my other dogs take a few seconds, but not Nick. Our 3 a.m. bathroom breaks are at least 15 minutes long now, sometimes longer. I don’t care because even so early, sometimes in the bitter cold, and always in the dark shadows away from the porch light it makes me laugh.

But then I watch Nick back up to a tree or fence to do his major business. What a smart way to keep your cage clean! But it’s sad as well. I know how and why Nick got so smart. My chest feels heavy when I think of why Nick, for the rest of his life, will do his major business like this.

Nick and I talk when he sits on the couch and the other dogs are playing. He isn’t much of a player. He enjoys my touch and no longer flinches or tenses up when I pet him. No longer does he look for a way to flee in case something happens and he finds I can’t be trusted after all. When strangers come over, even the young men and giggling girls that trail after my son, he no longer slinks off to the bedroom, hoping no one sees him. He sits with me and we watch the strangers. In his eyes, I can see him thinking, They are very loud. I nod. “But fun to watch,” I say. He looks at them and then at me. Loud wonders. I nod.

There are days when I look at Nick sitting on his bed, staring off in a distance. I know he is remembering things I can’t imagine. There is sadness in his soulful eyes, a loneliness, a painful remembrance. I lay my hand across his shoulders and he looks at me. The sadness fades. I nod. He knows I understand how far he has come and I don’t care how long the road is that he has yet to travel.

One other thing you should know about Nick: He was rescued from a “rescuer” with over 100 dogs. The owner was brought up on 100 charges of animal cruelty. She was offered a plea deal that if she relinquished her property – her 100 neglected dogs – charges would be dropped. Less than a year later the owner was charged with 51 new counts of animal cruelty.

I cried when I heard that. Then I remembered the starfish. I can’t save all of them, but I can make a difference to one at a time. Nick understood. He wagged his tail, slightly.

I also cried for this woman. As a therapist, I serve those who are often despised by others. I understand feelings of loss. I understand obsessive-compulsive disorder. Is Nick’s broken spirit and heart greater than this woman’s? She feeds her emptiness, fears and longing for happiness with animals she can’t care for. Is this so different than another who feeds his emptiness with wealth only to find there is not enough gold in the world to feed the bottomless pit of despair?  Is it so different than another soul who feeds the pit with food?

Nick looks at me. I look at him. We understand. He wags his tail, no longer tentatively but assuredly, joyfully, and my heart swells with love and hope.

I thank God for Nick. Nick shows me a tiny bit of God’s huge, omnipresent heart. He has learned to trust, love, forgive and hope against all odds or reason. Nick’s heart was surely made from God’s for Nick had no more reason to love, forgive or hope than God, yet they both love unconditionally, fully, deeply, in ways I can only imagine.

Nick was my foster dog but now has joined my growing family – three other rescued dogs and three beautiful cats. They all come with a story worth the telling.

If you would like a herd dog of your own – once you have a HERD you’ll never love another – please visit HERD rescue of Wyoming at http://www.herdofwy.com/ or any other rescue in your area. If you encounter a “rescue” that is not reputable – meaning the animals are not well-cared for – please report it to your local authorities. In Wyoming, before additional criminal action could be taken, new laws had to be passed. Nick’s “rescuer” was raided the second time less than 30 days after the governor signed the stricter laws. It’s frustrating that it takes so long but people really do want to do the right thing.

Next time I’ll tell you about Rocky the ComeBack Kid. Rocky can’t wait! He likes the spotlight!

Adopt One, Until There Are None.   

Hope for Hope

Wednesdays here at Animal Junkie will feature guest posts from individuals and organizations, ranging from personal anecdotes about the animals in the writers' lives to rescue work and animal-related professions. On the third Wednesday of every month, we'll hear from Pawsibilities...Are Endless, a small grassroots rescue organization making a big difference one life at a time.

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This week's post is by Landra Graf.

I define hope as a feeling associated with longing for something more than what is already provided or present. When an adult female dachshund got delivered to the pound covered in feces, fleas, and filth, I and my fellow rescue directors believed it would take a miracle for us to save this poor soul – thus she was named Hope.

Hope’s original home was a cesspool. In fact the Animal Control Officer at the time commented that when he walked out of the home after picking up the dog he threw up, the first and only time he experienced such a reaction during a pickup call. Our rescue president, Lora, was called to the pound, as our rescue is the only one operating in the immediate area, and the ACO thought Hope was beyond saving. In a split-second decision, Lora decided to admit Hope to our rescue and get her to a vet.

She was absolutely covered in nastiness to the point that her coat was black. The pictures of her in the pound clearly do not demonstrate the severity of her condition, but it was BAD. No one was allowed to touch her with bare hands as Lora couldn’t make heads or tails of it, almost thinking it was the worst case of sarcoptic mange a dog could have. For those who are not aware, sarcoptic mange is an extremely contagious form of mange, and is even contagious to humans. In Homo sapiens, sarcoptic mange is referred to as scabies. 

The next day Lora transported Hope to the vet. Hope remained at the vet for a week. Within 24 hours, we were told by the vet that the black spots covering her coat were fleas. Our hope, pun intended, renewed at the idea she would survive. Lora received the pleasure of taking Hope home and the first night was incredibly rough. Lora found that Hope’s coat was increasingly unappealing in sight and smell. The vet encouraged her to refrain from bathing Hope, as she’d been given Advantix as a treatment against the fleas. Unfortunately the smell over took and bathing became necessary. Lora recounted to me that her bath reduced the water to black, all fleas combined with gunk. Hope’s skin was black and when Lora dried her off with a towel her skin just peeled away. Thankfully and unfortunately (from the learning angle) I don’t have any pictures. The bath didn’t damage the flea treatment luckily and Hope began to flourish within a few weeks. We couldn’t wait to get her to a pet fair and in front of potential loving adopters.

Then another bomb got dropped: Hope was 13 years old. She didn’t act that old, and there were many pictures and stories of her running and playing. The reason this was a bomb is because, let’s face it, who wants a dog that’s near the end of her life? Very few. Adoption events, flyers, and even personal pleas for someone to offer Hope a home went without success. Our group even tried to find another foster willing to care for a senior dog. At the same time, I and the other directors agonized over asking someone to take in a dog and basically turn their humble abode into a nursing home. I wouldn’t wish that heartache on anyone, and neither would anyone in our rescue. We all understood the hardships that would and could come from being a foster in this position. Heck, we’re experiencing it.

Senior rescues were another option, but our rescue coordinator quickly discovered that senior rescues are few and far between. In addition, she discovered other horrifying stats that quickly made me realize how lucky Hope truly was, since we didn’t know her age when we removed her from the pound. To quote the Senior Dogs Project website, “Senior dogs are at the top of the euthanasia list when they are taken into most shelters….a senior dog frequently requires a longer time to find a new home because most people who visit shelters are looking for puppies or young dogs.” 

The end to this story is sad and happy. Hope is still with us, and thriving. She lives with Lora, who gives her oodles of love and care. Due to her previous living circumstances/genetics/fleas/age, Hope now has severe skin allergies and requires daily medication. She’s also been prone to random epileptic seizures, though these are few and far between. Regardless of the challenges her age presents, we still hope that our angel will find a forever home and someone to love her as much as we do. For more information on Hope, you can visit www.pawsrendless.org.

Pawsibilities…Are Endless is a tiny rescue located in Central-West Missouri not far from Warrensburg, Sedalia and Whiteman AFB. We specialize in helping animals in need find their forever homes. To assist in these efforts, not only do we provide local adoptions, but we work with other rescues to find homes for our furry packages across the United States. In Pawsibilities' mind, nothing compares to helping an animal find their happy-ever-after.