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Rozie came to me from a rescue group. She was about 5 years old, hadn't been spayed and had double hernias. Her teeth were worn down from biting on metal, as my vet reported. It is surmised she was let go or escaped from a breeder. She didn't trust people at all and would bite if anyone came near her. After about four months in foster care I took her in. She spent two days under my deck and the next two weeks under my dresser in the bedroom. It took her more than two years to feel comfortable enough to come on our daily walks with her 'brothers'. Now she is part of the pack... although she does try to boss around the alpha dog from time to time! As my vet said "when you bring a female dog into a two male dog household - the bitch takes over!"
I've been a volunteer at the San Diego County animal shelter for years, and often have to resist the urge to adopt every cat that I meet there. One day a few years back I saw the most amazing adult tortie-point Himalayan in the cattery...she was so beautiful, I knew for sure she'd be adopted right away. Then one week passed, and she was still there. Two weeks passed, she was still there. After nearly three weeks, I knew she was meant to come home with us.
We named her "Frankie" because of her spunky personality and crystal blue eyes. She & our 12 year old tabby Huey never became best friends, but they learned to tolerate each other like peaceful room-mates. When Huey lost his long battle with lymphoma, Frankie filled our home & hearts in a way I never dreamed possible. In the years since, she continues to surprise us with new & hilarious antics. She's a mobile pile of fur, and I can't imagine life without her.
Rozie came to me from a rescue group. She was about 5 years old, hadn't been spayed and had double hernias. Her teeth were worn down from biting on metal, as my vet reported. It is surmised she was let go or escaped from a breeder. She didn't trust people at all and would bite if anyone came near her. After about four months in foster care I took her in. She spent two days under my deck and the next two weeks under my dresser in the bedroom. It took her more than two years to feel comfortable enough to come on our daily walks with her 'brothers'. Now she is part of the pack... although she does try to boss around the alpha dog from time to time! As my vet said "when you bring a female dog into a two male dog household - the bitch takes over!" To top that all off - we discovered a year after her spay surgery the vet who performed the spay had somehow used the wrong stitches internally and those non-dissolvable stitches were tearing her up inside. She underwent exploratory surgery to remove the stitches and my vet handed me a bottle full of the stitches that were removed. Rozie has not bitten anyone since!
this is Tiria. i was looking for a sausage dog i can addopt to befriend my Jack Russle, Zeegh, and luckily my mom heard about a small little sausage dog waiting to be given a home, sitting at the vet of our neighbouring town.
The cage she was kept in was small and cramped, and apparently no-one has claimed her for a month. She was puny, with her ribs and backbone sticking out. When my mom called me about her, i just decided, thats it, i'll take her. The vet was kind enough to do her spaying for free, just as long as she goes to a good home. My mom said she jumping in her cage from the time she saw my mom, until they took her home.
Today only 2 months later, i believe she is a different dog. No more bones sticking out, shiny coat, bubbly attitude. She jumps almost 1 metre high when she is excited or when she can smell a treat coming her way, and i think she has Jack Russle blood in her. She loves people, she loves her friend Zeegh and all the other animals at my parents house.
It makes me so happy to know i could give just one lost soul a home.
We went to the local pound, looking for a large watchdog. No large dogs, but a cat with 4 kittens on death row. We rescued a kitten, about 5 weeks old. "Leroy" is now 19 years old and still with us, but I still remember the family laughing when we came home with a baby cat instead of a large dog, "Cool watchdog! Can he bark?".
This story is about a feral Kitten, and her first Litter.
I found her in my garage in my pet carrier. She had given Birth to 4 babies.
One died at birth or shortly there after. I closed the door to the carrier and brought them into my office where i could attempt to take care of her and the remaining 3.
3 days had passed and 2 of the remaining 3 died, one in my hands.
i was beside myself- all looked ok, they were nursing and she was attempting to be a good mom.
Little did i know that she had no milk to feed them. On chance i ran to the store and picked up infant formula and fed the last one with a Q tip until i could get to the store for a bottle.
That was indeed the answer. He gained his strength, his crying stopped and he grew.
When he got old enough, my GF, Lori, took him to his forever home.
Hes fit in nicely there- and Tess still remains a feral, altho i had since had her fixed.
The vet assured me upon examination, that Tess was dry, the baby would not of survived if i had not intervened.
I am just sorry that i had not paid more attention to had saved the remaining 2.
This is my Lewis. When I arrived at the shelter to finalize the paperwork for the chow (Deniro) that I had picked out, there was a sweet pup in the next run who was lying all alone and unspoken for when most of the other dogs had been adopted out. He licked my hand while the attendant told me that he had been picked on by the other dogs. That was all I needed to hear. He came to live with Deniro(left),Auggie(right), and Annie(asleep on the couch elsewhere). Now its walks, rides in the car, chew bones, and lots of fun. I am so happy that I brought him to live with us.
I was on the internet looking for a particular breed of dog as a companion both to me and to the family Boxer. I was familiar with PetFinder, so I started there. In searching the dogs in my state, I came across a little homeless dog who looked so sweet and so cute, I read about her, and she seemed likely to be a good fit in our family. She wasn't the breed I was looking for, but I did research on her breed, and there was no problem. I immediately put in my bid for adoption on this little rat terrier. There was a happy ending for all of us...Pippi came home. She's a delightful dog who loves her family and never fails to make me laugh.
On December 15, 2000 I relocated to Vancouver, BC from NYC along with my beloved feline companions Moojin and Luna. In late July, 2002 I stopped at our local pet emporium; they had a number adoptable strays. Moojin and Luna were, respectively, black and white and I wanted to add a caramel-colored kitten to the clan; that day the store fortuitously had two caramel-colored brothers: one bruiser and one runt; fatefully, the bruiser was spoken for, so I put a deposit on the runt and returned the next day to bring him home. When I first held him he looked penetratingly into my eyes with the solemn gaze of an ancient soul stuck in a small new body.
My husband and I decided to name him 'Bif' who learned his name, with variations--instantaneously! He was adorable; curiously, he rarely purrs; he mostly demonstrates contentment via various noises including grunts, moans and squeaks! The other cats eventually accepted him and we adored him.
One afternoon there was no trace of Bif; we looked everywhere and were convinced that he was either kitten-napped or had found some kitten-sized escape route. We posted notices on every floor of our 22-story building; the assistant managers--also friends--helped us investigate down to a pinhole what might appeal to a small varmint, with no luck. My husband and I were crestfallen; we sat on the edge of our bed and wept--he'd been missing for about 8 hours. We began to hear soft scratching from beneath the bed: as it turned out, the little bugger had found and burrowed into a hole in the bottom of the mattress!
Needless to say it was a very happy reunion. So the lesson from this incident is: Protect and cherish your loved-ones and never take them for granted!
We adopted KC in 1992 and she's still going!! We love her as one of our family and are so proud to be the ones who saved her from the pound. She's 17 years old with just minor problems (arthritis, etc.) and it's hard to think of any days without her. Our son is 8 and has grown up with this little sweetheart. Being her age, we call her Grandma Dog!!