Animal Rescue Stories

Emily oh Emily

She'd been thrown out the window of a fast moving truck. Her mate as well, but he'd jumped clear of the road. She'd landed with a splat in the pavement, an unmoving pile of fur. The angel who saw it happen stopped to capture the boy and move her body off the road. As she bent over her, an eye fluttered open. She was a mutt, but looked mostly like an Aussie Shepherd. The Vet said she and her mate had belonged to backyard breeders. Her uterus had finally exploded from years of whelping. The vet said whoever did this couldn't tell which one was sterile so he threw them both away. The rescue said the little boy, a cattle dog, was totally socialized and "normal" and was adopted right away. But the girl, the baby girl was another story altogether. She'd never been out of a cage in a dark barn so she didn't know how to stand and walk upright or how to run. She crawled on her belly like a reptile. She spent 5 long months in rescue. She chewed through the highest gage chain link fencing, so great was her fear of being caged again. So the rescuer brought her inside. She couldn't be house trained, she would hold it in for days. She had a boo boo inside one day and when the door opened she fled, hiding under a porch for 5 days, so great was her fear of punishment. She was put on Petfinders as a "special needs" adoption.
I was one year in grief recovery after losing a beloved baby under crushingly sad circumstances. I'd decided "No more fur babies!!" That's when it happened. A customer at work left an out-of-town paper on a chair. It was folded open to ads for pets. I picked it up and there was a photo of an elderly golden retriever boy with a sweet face. The ad said: "Emergency! Owner passed. Must find home asap." My heart melted. I called the shelter some 100 miles away to inquire. "All our pets go up on "Petfinders" they said. "Type in the info and our city and if he's available his picture will pop up." So I opened "Petfinders", typed in "male, senior, golden retriever, Lewiston, Idaho." I said a small prayer to Angie my deceased Aussie. "Angie, I said, " I know I asked you to send us something freckled. But it's ok to send us the one who needs us most."
Up popped the Aussie, the damaged baby with special needs. The screen request clearly said "male, senior, golden, Lewiston". What popped up was " female, Aussie, middle aged and a town 200 miles from us!
I was blown away! There was her photo and right on her back, facing the camera, a giant freckle!! I called the contact number, no answer. I left a blubbering sobbing message about Angie and how I'd searched for another dog, a boy, a golden (who by the way had already been adopted) and how I'd asked Angie for help. Well that did it! The rescue said the Aussie could become ours. We named her " Emily". Emily oh Emily. I've fiercely loved all my dogs, but some dogs fiercely need your love. That was Emily. Oh my Emily. We drove the 200 miles to pick her up. The rescuer was doing an adoption event at a pet store. But instead of opening a dog crate, she opened the back door of her SUV and slid a totally limp pile of fur across the seat and plunked it into my arms. She hung limp. Oh my goodness I thought. What have we gotten ourselves into!! But one look into that sweet face and I knew we were meant to love her.
Emily had never been petted and thought she going to be struck. So we invented "The Invisible Dog". My daughters and I would put her on the bed. Then I'd pet my daughters and they'd pet me, all the while saying "pets" in a happy voice. Then we'd turn to "The invisible Dog"; Pets, pets we'd say while stroking the "make-believe dog." Then we'd do the same for "kisses" then "hugs". One day it just clicked. She scooted over to us and stepped into the space of the invisible dog and she never stopped asking for pets and kisses and hugs.
She loved the sunshine and would lay out next to her favorite lilac bush. 30 minutes on one side, get up, turn over and 30 minutes on the other. Like a lovely croissant. I still remember the smell of her fur fresh from sunbathing.
She learned how to speak, and I don't mean woof, but talk. I would pull into the driveway after work and my daughters would open the front door. Running out out at a hundred miles an hour Emily would come to the driver's door. I'd open it, and she would look into my face, eyebrows wrinkled in contemplation. Where were you?"Ver wa wu?" in dog speak, Emily would ask. " I'd say " I was at work". Woah, woah she'd say, her head nodding up and down. Then like a rocket, she was off, back to the door. "Home, she's home!!!"
(Rhome z rhome in dog speak)
Every morning she would race downstairs, her butt wiggling a mile a minute. " Herroo!! Herroo!" As she backed into chairs and plant stands all in her joy to greet us. Oh Emily, my Emily. How we loved you. One night she started panting. A trip to the vet confirmed end stage heart failure. We held her in our arms as angels came from heaven to bring her rest.
May you all know an Emily. Remember, never buy a puppy from a pet store. That puppy's mother might be an Emily.

Christine Mikalson
FARMINGTON, WA

God's little Gift

I am a R.N. and lactation consultant, and had experience with feeding premature babies. In late August 2013 I was outside trimming a shrub when I heard a peeping sound. It sounded like a baby bird, but I couldn't find it. I located the sound in the planter behind the flowers and just as I saw something moving, I saw a tiny kitten waddle out and drop into my hand. We had feral cats in the neighborhood so it wasn't a total shock. Her eyes weren't open and her ears were still down. When I took her in the house my sister said, are you sure that is a cat and not a chipmunk? I was sure. It was Sunday evening and nothing was open so I called an emergency vet and they told me to get KMR at Walmart. I Took her to my Veternarian the next morning. She was healthy, about a week old, and weighed 8 oz. She hated to bottle feed. I had to get up every 2-4 hours for 5 weeks to feed her. I had to wrap her in a kitchen towel to give her a bottle. I told her she would eat because if I could feed premie babies she was going to eat. She was not going to die on my watch. Her little paws went into crazy mode when feeding. No wonder her Mom left her with me. I wouldn't have breast fed her either.
She was a talker as soon as she found her voice. She has always been a rascal so I named her Sassy. She has lived up to her name. There is never a dull moment when she is around. Her favorite toy is an elastic pony tail holder, and when she plays she talks constantly. We have 2 big dogs and another rescue cat and she is the smallest and youngest, but she is the boss of the house. You have to say YES when God puts a baby kitty in your hand. Life is full in our house. She has truly been a blessing.

Janet Harden
BIRMINGHAM, AL

Harry Sato, the best cat in the world

My dear cat, Harry, died in 2006. He had been a faithful companion to me for 16 years. He was my baby, my buddy, my confidant. He was a great cat. His purr was so strong you could hear it across the room. He was polite, but friendly to everyone. He met me at the door after work each day and voiced his concerns if I was slow to serve up dinner. He loved pizza sauce, spaghetti sauce, and milk, but what he really loved was shrimp. I knew I could not go to Red Lobster for dinner without bringing a shrimp home for him, because he’d smell shrimp on my breath and demand his share. He wasn’t a brave kitty, although he would have liked you to believe he was. But on his last day, he was very brave, more brave than I, when the vet gave us the bad news. I knew then that he knew, had known the last night how sick he was. So we said our sad good-byes and I held him as he went to sleep. And that Harry – he went out purring, just like a trooper. Dear, dear Harry, he was the best.

Cynthia S Sato
PRUDENVILLE, MI

Taking a Chance on Chance

After having to put down our beloved Whitney due to liver failure, it did not take my daughter and I long to realize we needed another dog. A couple of weeks later, we went down to the local animal care and control to look for our new family member. We had agreed to look for a female dog, at least two-years of age and not bigger than thirty-five pounds, as we felt with our living environment, this would be best.

There are always so many wonderful animals at the local public pounds and it is always hard to walk through and try to pick out one with so many fearful and hopeful faces begging you will pick them. We went through the kennels looking at various dogs and while there were many that I pray found the right home, we were unable to find one that "spoke" to us. My daughter and I decided to go through the kennels separately and look over the dogs again. After some time and having a few dogs brought out to interact with us, my daughter came up and handed me a small steel-grey puppy, literally pushed him into my arms and said, "Like this one". This little puppy snuggled his head into my neck and let out the biggest sigh of relief - and my heart just melted.

Instead of a two-year-old female who would be no more than thirty-five pounds, we ended up adopting a ten-week-old male (that was found on the streets as a stray) who the pound told us would grow to be around fifty-five pounds.

Oh, he was a handful, potty training, going through the teething phase, learning to walk on a lead and all the other obligations that come with a new baby puppy. He got his name when we were visiting a friend a couple of days after adopting him. Our friend had a female rottie (Katie), and while we were visiting, treats were given to each of the dogs. My puppy gobbled his up and then ever so slowly, creeping inch-by-inch approached Katie, keeping a close eye on her. Katie just watched him and showed no aggression whatsoever. Finally, when he was close enough, he darted in, grabbed the treat that was between Katie's paws, and ran off like the dickens with it. At that point I knew his name - Chance.

While Chance was always a handful, he was a great dog. Always wanting to please, accepting of training and one of the best family members anyone could hope for. He became"my" dog in more ways than one and became "that one special dog" everyone has at one point in their life.

In the fall of twenty-ten, I noticed Chance seemed to be losing weight for no reason. We went to visit our vet who seemed to know from the moment he walked in the room what we were dealing with. Chance had an auto-immune disease that was attacking the proteins in his body. The vet advised there were medications we could try; however, the prognosis was guarded at best.

One evening, about five weeks into treatment (and I still don't know why this night) I put Chance's head into my hands and pulled his face to mine. I told him I would miss him terribly, but I would be okay. When he was ready to let go, I would help him and be with him as he crossed.

The next morning when we went out for a potty and walk. Chance walked to the gravel area and went potty and then pulled towards the house. Even with as bad as he had to have been feeling those last weeks, he always looked forward to his walks. I tried to coax him to go walking, but he just kept pulling back to the house. That prompted a call to the vet who said to bring him in right away.

As the vet explained to me, the disease had moved into Chance's lungs and they were not deflating correctly. He was starting to slowly suffocate, it would only get worse and there was nothing that could be done to help. At only five and a half years old, it was time for Chance to leave us. Chance had let me know that morning that he had fought all he could, and it was time.

He was so loyal even to the end, and it still seems as if he was waiting for me to tell him I would be okay with him crossing before he took that journey. The passage of almost nine years has not softened the loss I feel, and the tears still flow as I write this. Although I have had several other personal dogs that I have loved dearly, and have fostered for a wonderful rescue and helped countless other dogs find loving homes, the loss I feel for Chance has never gone away. As I said, Chance was "that dog" for me.

He will always be in my heart, and I know when it is my time, brat that he is, he will push his way to the front of the pack to meet me at the Rainbow Bridge.

Kris Arnold
MESA, AZ

Dumpster dog with newborn pups....

I was recently blessed with a bouncing baby girl........with a tail, lol!! I named her Fortza, which is the Italian word (forza) for "strength,"....and here's why:
Fortza was found tore up, scratched and emaciated in a dumpster with a litter (5) of day-old puppies. She was believed to have been a bait dog (used for dog fighting) based on her condition upon arriving at the Palmetto Animal Clinic. Apparently, a non-English speaking man saw the dog and her puppies in a dumpster somewhere in Palmetto, and brought all of them to the Palmetto Animal Clinic. My friend Estella Pena, made me aware of this dog/situation by tagging me in a Facebook post. I instantly offered to adopt this little angel after she was done nursing her pups. Unfortunately, Fortza was in such bad shape herself, she didnt have any immunity to pass on to her babies, so tragically they all passed away (Fading Puppy Syndrome). Fortza is only about a year and a half old.
I've been visiting Fortza for the past month at the Palmetto Animal Clinic where Paula Rowell and her awesome team nursed, trained and LOVED this little gal back to good health. Paula put soooo much of her time and heart into working with Fortza!! I'm the biggest fan of Paula's heart, and feel absolutely honored to know her. She's incredible, guys!!
Paula Rowell and her team at the Palmetto Animal Clinic have a non-profit, donation-based Angel Fund that is used to cover the cost of the medical recovery efforts for animals found in heartless situations, like Fortza. I'm happy to report that Fortza is gaining weight, full of energy and is an absolute lover. She never leaves my side, and falls asleep on me or in my arms every night. She's getting along incredibly well with the other dogs in my neighborhood!! She's a 'lil timid with people, but warms up instantly to women. She is still untrusting/fearful of men, but we are really working on it...just this evening she waggingly approached my (male) next door neighbor (who didn't even have treats!!)!! This 'lil mama is the epitome of strength and love. I'm in total awe of how trusting she is already, and how well she's acclimating to everyone and everything. Progress, not perfection is our goal, and baby steps will get us there. I'm so proud and completely honored to have this amazing little heartbeat as my new copilot on this journey!!

Abby Ciosici
BRADENTON, FL

Little Pigeon

Pigeon was found looking for food in a garbage bin by a friend who was not able to have animals where she lived, so Pigeon found a home with me. She was a little kitty with super soft fur and loved to climb up as high as possible. She adored chewing on the tomatoes I left on the kitchen counter, and also liked to eat cantaloupe and oatmeal. She was the cuddliest kitty ever and would stand up on her hind legs with her front paws lifted up to show me that she wanted to be picked up. I often thought that she would have happily have let me carry her around all day long. Sadly, she died a few years ago and I still miss her terribly. I hope that she is climbing the trees in God's garden and has found some tomatoes to chew on and cosy angel laps to snuggle in.

Patricia Lyndale
ANN ARBOR, MI

Fitz and Me, and how he saved me

I fell in love with Fitz when I saw his picture online through a Rescue. I told the Rescue owner I really wanted him but wasn't sure I was ready since recently losing my previous dog to lymphoma and I was going through a very deep depression. She knew how much I needed him and rather than letting anyone else take him, she held him for me. Several weeks later, I met Fitz in person and he has brought love and joy into my life every day since then, almost a year ago. Just 5 days ago we had a terrible house fire and miraculously survived. When the flames started, I grabbed Fitz and ran. We don't currently have a home, but we have Fitz. Nothing else matters!

Karen Blattner
GRAND RAPIDS, MI

He was my Valentine

I was sitting on my patio one night, just enjoying the quiet, when I saw a big black cat walk around the corner of the house and let out a big meow. I asked him if he was hungry, and went in to get some food and water. When I returned outside he was sitting on the chair I left. I put the food and water down and he came over and rubbed on my legs and ate up all the food. He then jumped up on the chair and took a nap. I thought maybe he belonged to one of the new neighbors that just moved in, so I thought he'd return home after his nap. I got up the next morning and he was there on the chair waiting for me. I got him more food/water and went to work. When I got home he was still there. It was supposed to get in the 30's that night so I build a little shelter for him. I already have 3 cats in the house so it wasn't an option to bring him in. He stayed with he for the next two weeks, then one Saturday morning I came out and he had cuts on this face and ears and frozen saliva on this face. I took him to the vet that day had him neutered and shots. I took him home and kept him in a small bathroom for two weeks until the rescue would take him. I brought him to the rescue on Saturday 9 Feb 2013 and cried all the way home. I couldn't get his sweet face out of my mind so on Thursday 14 February 2013 I went to the rescue and adopted my handsome boy. I named him Waffles since when I introduced him to one of my other cats Pancakes, they became best pals. He's still my sweet loving boy, but will always be my Valentine.

Joy Kosloske
NORTH LAS VEGAS, NV

My heart rescue Boy

We had just lost a fur baby at the age of 13. A family member gave us this little ball of black and white fur to help us heal. He did more than that, always such a sweet guy. I did have another dog too and within a couple months found out he had full blown stomach cancer. Our new boy was there for me. The sick one was beyond help when the vet found it. So Buster was the perfect gentleman, stayed with him (Levi) when he felt bad, and followed him every where... up 'till the day he was gone. He just let me hug and cry on him. He was lonely, so I adopted another, a female. They got along great. 6 yrs later, Molly was at the vets and they found she had an enlarged heart. All the meds and checkups couldn't hep her. During this time, Buster always the gentleman, stood beside her also. Slept with her; the day she left us, he was beside her as she took her last breath, and so was I, holding her, kissing her and telling her how much I loved her. He was kissing her face. When she was gone, he sat and just looked at her. I could tell both our hearts were broken, he had lost 2 friends in 6 yrs. Buster is almost 9 now and my heart boy. He's not the healthiest guy, but he is the most loving friend I have ever had. Been there for me when I really needed him. There is a bond with him that could never be broken. Since all that, I've had both total hip replacements. I'm not doing good with them, he helps me if I get down and can't get up. If my pain is bad, he cuddles me, as I do him when he has pain from his arthritis. This is my love boy, my heart dog. I love him sooo much. I know when his time comes, I will be beyond devastated. Until then, we will just be each others' best friend, and love each other unconditionally.

Lynn Vance
SMITHFIELD, PA

He owns my heart!

A friend in rescue called me while I was on an outing and said they have a furbaby that needs rescuing, but they need a foster. I Said of course, this being my first time ever to foster. My sweet boy came to us with a gunshot wound to his front leg and all ribs showing. We nurtured and loved, went to therapy and fed small meals. We taught this baby how to be in a home. When we first brought him home he would only go in the front door and to the couch; after some time, we taught him that it was ok to explore the house and to climb steps. Thru all of this he taught me a new kind of love. After several months of healing and getting love, I knew I was going to be a foster failure but I also knew the love I felt for him was special and he returned the love full circle. Today he is healthy, loved and happy. He is an Anatolian Shepherd and one of the loves of my life.

Mary Ann Smith
LOUISVILLE, KY