The Great Nate, Nate

One of the first dogs we rescued was an older black dog of mixed heritage whom I eventually named Nate. Nate arrived at the shelter with a leg injury, the cause of which no one knew. Nate’s chances of adoption were not good. Large black dogs are apparently the least adoptable dogs in shelters across the country.

I took Nate to the Pet Clinic of Rocky Mount where Dr. Eric Lorens advised me that it was too late to save his leg. The arthritis almost certain to plague the repaired joint would cause him constant pain. And so the best option was to remove the leg and give him a chance at a pain free life. In addition to his injury, neglect had left Nate with a coat so thin his skin was barely covered in places. He was significantly underweight, his ribs visible to the eye.

To spend time with Nate was to immediately love him, and so we decided he would become part of our family. His road to recovery was difficult at first. He lost his balance often and fell many times. I cried with every one. But he’s a fighter, this wonderful dog, Nate. He gets up and keeps trying, and has a joy for something as simple as a ride on the golf cart that I think we humans would do well to strive for in our own lives.

I wish I could find the words to describe the happiness Nate has brought to our family. We love him for his humble soul, for the way he lights up with absolute joy when we’ve been away and come back.

As I said, he’s an old guy. His teeth aren’t great. He has allergies that cause him skin problems, and of course, he only has three legs now. But to us, he’s beautiful. He personifies all that is so rewarding in the rescue of these deserving animals: hope, gratitude and love.

A couple of months after we had adopted Nate, I was at church one Sunday when my mom told me about a woman who had gone with her husband to the shelter to adopt a cat during the time Nate was there. She had noticed him sitting quietly in his run and had gone over to say something to him. When she realized that he was injured and needed help, she stood in front of his cage, silently crying and offering up a fervent prayer that someone would come for him.

I thank her for that.

Nate thanks her, too.

Manna From Heaven

Yesterday was a day of discouragement for me on the rescue front. On Saturday, one of my foster dogs was placed with a lovely woman through Homeward Bound of PA. After one night, the match was not made, and the dog was returned to the director of Homeward Bound. It's hard to understand why these things happen. I think in the long run, it is because the two truly were not right for one another. I know in my heart this dog will find the family meant for him. In the shortrun, it is extremely painful.

On Saturday, I also received an email from one of my volunteer friends at the county shelter letting me know that there were 13 kittens there in urgent need of an opportunity. At the point when I received that note, thirteen sounded like a thousand. Throughout the day Sunday, I could not quit thinking about them, but the thought of trying to find a place for them as I have little to no cat rescue contacts seemed like a mountain I could not find the energy to climb.

But late last night I decided to do some searches on the Internet and email rescue groups to ask for help with these babies in need. Most rescues are full to the brim, and I had very little hope of getting a positive response to any of them.

But then this morning, I received an email from a wonderful lady with Fancy Cat Rescue in Fairfax, VA and her group has agreed to take all 13 kittens plus 1 adult cat. I nearly did a cheer in front of the computer. It's hard to explain the joy this kind of thing brings when you know that these lives have literally been saved. The faces you see above are two of those lives. Truly, manna from heaven.

Don't Doubt Thomas

Almost two years ago, I decided to try and do something about the euthanasia rate in our county shelter. It was something that had bothered me for a long time, the exact facts of which were murky at best, depending on who you asked. When I finally got up the courage to call the Public Safety Office and ask the people who really knew whether the dogs and cats at our shelter were ever adopted, I was sickened by the answers I got. At that time, 90% of the animals who entered the shelter were euthanized.

Those statistics completely stunned me and prompted my entry into the world of dog and cat rescue. It is by turn the most rewarding thing I have ever done and the most discouraging. The rewards come in the form of seeing a dog who has completely lost any hope of knowing happiness again start to wag its tail with a single act of kindness and then watch that dog bloom with joy. The hard part is seeing first hand just how little some people are willing to do for an animal they chose themselves.

This blog is a place where I'd like to give the dogs and cats who come into my life their fifteen minutes of fame, tell their story, or at least what I know of it. Some of these animals stay with us a short while, until they are adopted by their forever family, and others who have issues that make them less adoptable become permanent members of our ever increasing family.

For me, it's the individual personalities and stories of these dogs and cats that makes me determined to help as many as I can.
And so I'll start with Thomas.

Thomas is a big lug of a Chocolate Lab who ended up in a high kill shelter in South Carolina. I heard of his need for help from a lady who works with the Humane Society in that area. I had agreed to take two dogs from the group and on the morning we were to drive down to Charlotte to meet someone and pick them up, I received a last minute plea to consider taking Thomas as well. One look at his picture was all it took.

I immediately sent him to a local vet for a check-up, shots and neutering. It was discovered that he was heartworm positive and he underwent the standard treatment for this. Unfortunately, Thomas had a reaction to the treatment and nearly died. It is so sad to think that if someone had simply taken care of him by giving him a single monthly heartworm pill, he would never have gotten sick in the first place.

I brought Thomas home and crated him day and night, not sure whether he would live or die. It didn't take long for my heart to hurt with the very thought of losing him. Thomas is a humble soul who has never had much and during his first weeks in our home, didn't even know to ask for it.

About three weeks after I brought him home, he had a setback, and I again thought we would lose him. He pulled his way back up from this though, and he is now getting stronger every day. He will have to be crated with limited exercise for a couple more months because of the danger of blood clots.

It's taken a tremendous amount of effort to get Thomas on the road back to health, but in the process of doing so, I have come to cherish this dog. He looks at me as if I hung the very moon, and maybe in his eyes, I have. It takes so little really, to earn the eternal gratitude of a dog who has slept outside his whole life, or been chained to a tree or not had enough to eat.

Thomas has been in my life going on three months now, and he is still surprised by his nightly Peanut Butter bone. Kindness should not cause surprise, and I look forward to the day when I see in his eyes that it is expected.