COWBOY'S LONG, LONG TRAIL RIDE

You get these emails when you are a "rescue person." They have varying subjects, but generally boil down to "Save this dog or it dies" and they are always accompanied by these heart-wrenching photos. That's Cowboy's story, in a nutshell, of how he came to be with Lost Dog & Cat Rescue Foundation (LDCRF).

Pam McAlwee, founder of LDCRF, had just lost a beloved dog, one she rescued as a senior who was a pitiful case from the start. She was feeling a little down and when the email from a crowded shelter landed in her inbox, it squeezed her heart.

"I just wanted to save every pitiful, broke-down dog they had," she says.

And so it was that Cowboy and a few friends made their way into the hands of the Lost Dog & Cat Rescue Foundation. It was a motley crew, to be sure. Many were missing hair from mange, several were heart worm positive, most were very thin. Cowboy actually looked pretty good in comparison to some of the others, but that was soon to change.

Within a few days of his arrival, Cowboy became ill. He had signs of a typical upper respiratory infection, but just couldn't shake it. He stopped eating, he lost weight, he didn't respond to medication. But he kept wagging his tail.

We soon learned that Cowboy had canine distemper, a horrible disease that can be prevented with an inexpensive vaccine. Unfortunately for Cowboy and many dogs in very rural areas, vaccines are rare and their vulnerability is high.

Distemper is bad news, and a common response to the diagnosis is to euthanize the dog in question. Survival is iffy at best, treatment is lengthy and expensive, and managing the contagion factor is difficult.

But then there were those eyes. Cowboy has the most soulful, expressive eyes you will ever find in a dog. And they were full of light and hope even in his darkest days. He clearly wanted to live and had something to offer the world. We wanted to give him the chance.

Thanks to the Pepsi, Griffen, Sprite Legacy Gift (a special fund established to help dogs who need extra medical care) we were able to commit to Cowboy and provide him with months of supportive care and medications. He spent a lot of time in isolation at Blue Ridge Veterinary Associates where he got amazing medical treatment and all of the moral support (and cheese) he needed to survive.

There were dark days, to be sure. At one point, just as he seemed to be heading for health, he lost all of his hair and we weren't sure it would grow back. On other days, he had no energy and no appetite. But  every day- every single one- he had light in his eyes and a wag in his tail. He never gave up, and neither did Lost Dog Rescue.

Today, Cowboy is the picture of health. He has a beautiful coat of fluffy blond hair and will take on any dog in a game of tug-of-war. He loves everyone he meets and is excited about any adventure that comes his way. He makes a slight jerking motion with his front leg when tired- a side effect of the disease- but it never slows him down or gets in his way.

Cowboy is a contender and now he is in contention for the top prize in Best in Shelter. A vote for Cowboy is a vote for all the hopeless and homeless dogs languishing in overfull shelters. Cowboy would like to be the face of what they can become. Please help.

Cowboy is a contender in the Best in Shelter Competition. If he gets the most votes,  he wins $50,000 for Lost Dog & Cat Rescue Foundation- money that will be used to help other dogs like him get a second chance. 

From Life on a Chain to a Wedding on the Beach

Hagrid with his human sisters and new wife. 

He was the most unlikely of candidates for a bridegroom. Big, hairy and in need of some manners, Hagrid (aka Angelo) didn't seem like he was going to be going anywhere near the high life and nuptials ("puptials") on the beach were certainly not in the cards.

In fact, the only life Hagrid knew until last year, was life on the end of a chain.

Hagrid would be there still, but for the kindness of a young woman named Angel.

Angel lived in Hagrid's neighborhood in West Virginia and her heart broke at the sight of him on the end of that chain, wagging his tail at the sight of any human, constantly filthy, painfully matted and always lonely. Angel moved away, but she didn't forget Hagrid, not at all.

Last year, on her birthday, Angel decided to give herself a birthday present. She drove to Hagrid's home where he was still chained up in the yard, and she knocked on the door. She told the people who answered that it was her birthday and what she really, really wanted as a present was their dog. Could she please have him? They said yes.

So the big, smelly boy was loaded in Angel's car and she drove her birthday present directly to the vet. He got his vaccines, a much-needed and super painstaking shave-down, and the all-important neuter surgery. She called him "puppy" because the previous owners had never given him a name.

"Puppy" now needed a place to go. Angel did not live in a home where he could stay for long, and so she needed some help. She came to Lost Dog & Cat Rescue Foundation and her story so touched my heart that I had to say yes. I mean, who could say no to the woman who freed a dog from a chain as a birthday present to herself? He was big and I was worried about the personality traits of a dog who had never been unchained, but I thought it was worth the risk. And it was.

When "Puppy" came to Lost Dog we named him Angelo in tribute to his rescuer, but as it turns out, he wasn't Angelo for long.

Puppy aka Angelo got scooped up within a couple of weeks of coming to Lost Dog and began a brand new life with a loving family as Hagrid.

And part of his brand new life included a trip to the beach where he was officially married to the resident canine of his new household, Sasha, in a lovely ceremony on the beach. That's right, Hagrid, formerly chained up 24 hours a day, seven days a week with no vet care or human attention, was married this summer on the beach. His human Mom officiated and his human sisters were in attendance complete with beautiful dresses and Leis.

And there was cake.

People Power

If you have anything to do with animal rescue, chances are better than good that you have said it at least once along the way and it is a certainty that you have heard it more than once.

"I hate people."

It's a common phrase and one that hardly raises an eyebrow.  It's an understandable sentiment. When your email inbox is full of variations on the theme, "We don't want our old/sick/ inconvenient/ expensive pet anymore," it's hard to maintain a positive outlook on the human race. When you see animals suffering because humans neglected or abused them or were simply irresponsible, hate for the human race wells up easily.

But there's a problem with that attitude, a big one. If we want to help animals we NEED the people. We need volunteers, fosters, adopters,  and donors. We need to welcome the people with open arms and sometimes issue a second chance or two. And guess what? There are some AMAZING people out there.

This weekend, Lost Dog & Cat Rescue Foundation adopted out 59 dogs and cats, placed 24 puppies into foster homes and staffed 8 adoption events with  100 + eager volunteers. That's people power!

Colin, Nancy and Sassafras.

On Saturday at our Fairlakes event, a little dog named Sassafras slipped her collar. An army of volunteers and bystanders took off to catch her and she was finally rescued by Colin, a high school senior who has volunteered with us every weekend since he was 12. Nancy, who gives every Friday night and Saturday afternoon to the dogs, injured her ankle and her knee in the chase, yet continued to conduct adoption interviews with an icepack on her ankle. Two strangers offered rides to volunteers who were chasing Sassafras and the manager of Jason's Deli went the extra mile to make sure Nancy was okay. People Power.

At the Alexandria event on Sunday, there was a bomb scare in the parking lot complete with bomb sniffing dogs and heavy machinery. The volunteers kept on working and adopted out 8 dogs. People Power.


Perhaps most importantly, 59 families made the choice to adopt this weekend rather than purchase their new companion animal. That's 59 dogs and cats who were just recently on death row now on their way to becoming beloved family members because people made the right choice. People Power.


So, I'm starting this week filled with gratitude for the amazing efforts of some amazing people, and I'm gonna end it that way too. This people power is a repeat performance and next weekend, although I hope it's free of runaway dogs and bomb scares, I am sure I will be wowed again by what an army of volunteers can and will do.

A happy adopter who took a chance on an older dog.

Both Sides of the Tracks

Is there anything more mysterious, romantic or soulful than a train track fading into the distance? Full of promise and possibility and a 1940's movie kind of sadness, railroads pique our curiosity, stir our emotions and take hold of our imaginations. Think sleeper car, rhythmic chugging noises and breathtaking views.

Or think broken down and abandoned trailers, miles of empty fields and dirty, desperate puppies looking for their next meal.

The abandoned trailer where the 7 dogs were living by the tracks. 

Unfortunately, it was a series of the latter images that butted their way into my life this week- nothing mysterious or romantic, just sadly desperate. 

The email went out to many rescue groups begging for help. A kindhearted animal lover in Boone County had discovered a group of dogs and puppies living as strays on the side of a local railroad track. She had begun feeding them, keeping them from starving while trying to figure out a permanent solution for their plight. The only shelter within miles would euthanize the dogs via gas chamber upon their arrival, so that was no option at all.

One of the meals that kept them alive. 

One day when she arrived to feed the group, one was missing. A person who lived nearby told the woman that this particular dog had been shot by a local preacher because she wandered into his yard. He told her none of the dogs were safe and that they needed to be removed as soon as possible. Fortunately, the girl with the bullet wound wandered out of the woods at that time and, while injured, appeared to be making it.

That's when LDCRF got the email and a desperate plea from a fellow rescuer whose group wasn't able to help. She would do anything to get them to safety, she said, including drive them herself.

So, that's how we all ended up in the parking lot of Blue Ridge Veterinary Associates on a hot Sunday afternoon. The dogs (seven in total) arrived in a crowded Honda Element, tired and wary and really confused by their eventful day.

LDCRF was able to help thanks to the generosity of the Pepsi Griffen & Sprite's Legacy Gift-a special fund designated for those dogs who need the most help and resources. Committing sight unseen to seven stray dogs is a risky proposition for a rescue. Who knows what medical calamaties may await and what expenses will mount? Who knows if the dogs will be ready for homes or need a long period of socializing first? Really, who knows what will happen and what it will cost? Having Pepsi, Griffen & Sprite's Legacy Gift meant that even though we had all of those questions in our minds, we could say YES in time to save these seven. So far, things are looking pretty good.  Pacifica, the victim of the gunshot is a lucky girl. There are no broken bones and antibiotics have infection under control. While she will live with some metal fragments in her leg, she is slated for a full recovery without surgery.

Though loaded with parasites and fleas, the other dogs are mostly free from any serious medical conditions. On lovely young girl, Panama, had a hard time during her spay surgery and almost didn't come back. Thanks to the quick action of the vet team, however, she was revived and continues to improve. She will need a couple of months of physical therapy which she is getting in a special foster home and then she should be able to find her forever family.

So these seven are safe and sound and extraordinarily lucky to have been the beneficiary of human kindness across two states.

But I will go to bed tonight thinking of the others out there... the ones whom humanity has abandoned and for whom no help has come. And if my life's journey places me in a railroad car, I'm pretty sure my nose will be pressed to the window in search of abandoned and helpless animals who need a miracle.

Manic Milk Monkeys

It's official. They are not puppies. They are instead Manic Milk Monkeys on a Mission. It's all about the milk and nothing but the milk. After more than two weeks of bottle feeding these orphaned pups, we have come to realize that we have created monsters. They can now see (eyes wide open!) and hear, and that means they are aware that the source of the milk has entered the room. And so they cry. And they run around on wobbly legs, and fall down and roll on the floor in the agony of anticipation. I close my eyes, and I can swear they are screaming "bottle, bottle, bottle!"

When one of us sits on the floor and pulls the first lucky puppy into a lap for his turn at the bottle, the others attack. They climb up pants legs and get stuck. They pull themselves into the human lap and try to dislodge the currently nursing puppy. They attempt to climb up the shirt of the human and push their noses into shirt sleeves.

The assault is relentless until each puppy has his or her turn at the milk bar and every belly is so full it appears dangerously close to popping. And then, finally, there is quiet. The only sound is the contented little grunts they make as  as they settle into their clean, dry blankets and sink deep into the land of milk coma.  And that's when they suck you back into believing they are adorable little helpless puppies, even though you know better. They are so cute and so sweet when sleeping that you buy into the puppy myth, even though you know for a fact that they are Manic Milk Monkeys on a Mission and the next outbreak is a mere 3 hours away.

Scrappy String Bean demonstrates the Milk Coma.

Full bellies and warm blankets equals sheer bliss.

Even in his sleep, he nurses an imaginary bottle.

Nyla's Story

Shelter day is never very much fun. It consists of walking back in front of kennels full of desperate dogs, taking each and every one out for a walk, trying objectively to weigh each one’s adoptability and eventually making difficult choices about which dogs we can help.

The day I met Nyla, her bark was the very first thing that caught my attention when I walked through the kennel doors. It sounded ferocious. When I looked to see who was making that noise, I saw a 70 pound beast jumping and lunging at her kennel door.  I decided to steer clear and started my evaluations on the other side of the kennels.

Nyla never stopped barking, never eased up on the frontal assault to her kennel door. I wondered why she wasn’t housed back in the quarantine room. It seemed dangerous to have her in with all of the adoptable dogs. “No way this one is adoptable,” I thought.

I dismissed the notion of walking Nyla without a thought. I wrote a big “NO” next to her name on the list.

Eventually, I had to walk the dogs in the kennels surrounding her, however, and something shifted.  When Nyla saw me coming in her direction with the leash, she took a moment’s pause in her barking each and every time. Her eyes honed in on that leash like two lasers and for a millisecond she was quiet. When I passed, she resumed the attack dog routine and I shook my head.

But I began stopping for an extra few seconds each time. Just to see. Each time she stared so hard at that leash, I thought it might catch fire. And each time I walked away she resumed her threatening behavior. Except I started to see it differently. Maybe it wasn’t so threatening. Maybe it was more desperate than anything else. I looked at her kennel paper. She was an owner surrender and she had already been in the shelter more than a few weeks. Being an “owner surrender” means she might have been snatched up off of a comfy couch without warning and dropped unceremoniously here in a concrete kennel with no access to outside and no human contact apart from cleaning and feeding. Being an “owner surrender” means a housetrained dog is forced to soil his or her tiny living area on a daily basis because no one comes with a leash.

The leash. “She wants to go for a walk,” I thought. “She just wants out.” But the cautious part of my brain warned that it would be crazy to open the door and enter a small space with a very large, angry dog.  A very bad idea, indeed.

I did it anyway. I entered ever so cautiously, just an arm at first and then a leg, hand on the door at all times, never taking my eye off of the dangerous animal before me. I had no idea what Nyla would do and I kept thinking “this is crazy.”

The ferocious beast responded by sitting down and wagging her tail. I put the leash around her neck to make a no-slip collar and we walked out of the kennel together.

Well, truthfully, Nyla joyfully drug me the entire length of the hallway and burst through the doors like she was shot out of a cannon. Once outside, she tried to run in circles and go in every direction at once. I put her in an outdoor pen and she ran and ran and ran in the tiny space.

Clearly, Nyla’s “no” needed to bceome a “yes” and this girl needed out of the shelter! That was a no-brainer, but this tale wasn’t easily transformed into a happy ending,  Nyla was large. And loud. There was no space for her at the Lost dog Ranch and more kennel time was not going to do her any good anyway. She needed to get into a foster home where she could be reminded how to be a family dog and someone with a good eye could observe her and make sure there were no real aggression issues.

I knew who I wanted right away. Caitlyn was a relatively new foster, but one with tons of energy and an appreciation for big, energetic dogs. Her Duke is young and playful and appreciates rowdy playmates, so I figured if Nyla could get along with other dogs, this would be ideal. Texting and photo sharing began right there in the play yard at the shelter- Operation Nyla’s Freedom was underway!

Caitlyn came through and the rest is sort of history. Well, it is at least someone else’s tale of transformation. It took some time to get Nyla out of the shelter and into Caitlyn’s capable hands, but as I had suspected, Caitllyn loved Nyla on sight and Nyla loved every minute of her time with Caitlyn and Duke. It was unexpectedly short, however. Nyla was such a well-behaved and beautiful dog that she found her forever family in no time.

As of this writing, Christmas 2010, Nyla is back on the couch where she belongs, at the center of a loving family. I’m fairly positive they have never heard that ferocious bark and I pray that Nyla will never, ever again be so desperate that she has to communicate with such sound and fury.