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My husband and I adopted Kirby from the Oregon Dog Rescue six weeks ago after seeing him on Petfinder.com. His previous owner had passed away and her family was unable to keep him. At nine years of age he is a fun ball of energy. Every day Kirby brightens our lives with his funny antics and bright sparkling personality. Older dogs should not be overlooked when looking for that new "forever friend".
When my beloved cockapoo Ashley died, his buddy Charlie, a white terripoo, was lonely after 15 years together. I installed a webcam and discovered he would howl all day alone at home. Five months after Ashley passed I started looking at various Los Angeles Area shelter websites. Finally I saw this shaggy, frightened dog. Only one terrified eye peaked out for the camera. I thought, "now there's a dog who needs a lot of TLC!" I called and found he'd been transferred to another shelter. I raced out there and he'd been treated for ticks and returned to the wrong pen. They'd lost him! We walked up and down the aisles and finally there amongst all the loud pit bulls was this shaking little shaved pup. He was about 2 years old & just wanted to get away. His skin was bumpy from the tick removal. Not a "cutie" at that stage at all. But I looked into his eyes and said, "I'll take him." He'd clearly been on the streets a long time fending for himself. I named him Toby Tyler after the boy who runs away to join the circus. Once home he ran to the backyard under a lemon tree and stayed there the all day & night. Once he finally came inside he started to trust again. That was May 5, 2008. As his 3rd "birthday" approaches this May 5th, he has blossomed into a happy, sweet cutie pie who LOVES his walks & has a neighborhood full of dogs to run and play with. Even though Charlie will be 17 at the end of May and finds Toby a handful of energy, Toby does keep Charlie alert and perky. This photo was taken a few days after Toby came to his forever home!
I was 14 y/o and a friend of my mom's had found a pretty, skinny calico in her garage that we went to look at. I fell in love instantly, but mom wanted to think it over. By the time I talked her into keeping the cat, the friend had already taken her to the Humane Society. So, my mom called the HS, and they told us the cat was to be euthanized because she was pregnant.
Well, I was distraught, and somehow my mom convinced the HS to abort the kittens and let us adopt the momma cat, but they weren't sure she'd live as she had an upper respiratory infection.
So we finally got Quatarah, my beautiful calico, and mom had to stay up nights with her nursing her back to health as she was so sick. She was a fighter - she bounced back - more than once in her 17 years! 4 years ago she was diagnosed with Chronic Kidney failure and given 3 months to live, and again she bounced back. I just lost her last week, the tumor in her lung was just too much for her.
She was always my girl, and I have always been so happy that my mom was able to talk them into letting us keep her. She was my beautiful girl, was with me for 16 years, far longer than the HS thought she'd be, and the vet 4 years ago.
Rescuing a cat is a wonderful thing to do. This was a cat whose time was up, and because my mom and I stepped in, she gave us 16 wonderful years. If ever a human and an animal could be called "soul mates", she and I were. I miss her so much, and will love her always.
My husband and I travel often to the Bahamas and many times to Marsh Harbour in the Abacos. We would see these street dogs, sometimes befriending one but never knew their plight. Apparently these wonderful animals are called Potcakes because their main food source was from the bottom of the pot of peas and rice that the Bahamians would reheat for their families and at the bottom of the pot would be a layer of overcooked food they call Potcake. This would be scraped out and fed to the dogs, thus the name "Potcake". We looked up the website for the Potcake rescue effort and while in Marsh Harbour, could not find even one puppy. We wanted a younger dog so it would get along with our two little ones. About a week after we returned to Florida, I got an email from Molly, a realtor in March Harbour and a leader in the rescue effort. She sent me a photo of Nipper. He had already been abused and neglected so it was a few weeks before he could come to the States and into our home. Molly flew him over for me and my brother and I met her at West Palm Beach airport and he's been a happy, sweet addition to our family. As the photo shows, he blended right in and now has a loving forever home. Pat from Florida
October 2007 (Romania)
My friend, Cristina & I were driving along a motorway in Romania when suddenly Cristina brought the car to a halt. We saw a small grey lifeless bundle at the side of the road. We put the poor little dog with the saddest eyes into a dog cage and went back to Christina's house.
During the rest of my week's stay having showered, clipped, neutered, de-flead and fed this little dog, I started to grow very fond of her and decided to name her "Manisha". Before leaving Romania I'd made up my mind I was going to bring her home to England and give her the life she deserved. Cristina kindly said she would keep Manisha for me at her home until things were finalised.
I was reunited with Manisha, a healthy little bundle of fun and her once sad eyes were now like little stars and twinkled. She bounded up to me like she remembered me. I spent another week in Romania to return with Manisha. I flew back to the UK the day before Manisha, the cheaper option was to fly her to Brussels and collect her the next morning, hence a drive to Brussels. I was so excited and yet nervous at the same time. We hit the French border and within minutes having checked the passport and documents we were cleared. I DID IT! I cried with relief and celebrated with a coffee at the Euro-tunnel cafe!! Manisha was professionally washed, groomed and sadly SHAVED, the only fur they could save was her ears and tail. Through her life of neglect it was too matted to comb and would have been too stressful for her to endure.
Manisha shows her thanks with unconditional love. We'd be lost without her now.
May of 2009 I found a litter of kittens just off of our deck, born during an unusually hot and rainy spring. There was a tiny torteshelle that was always separated from the gang, she had my heart from the beginning. Her original name was Siete because when we officially rescued her @ 5 wks old, she was already on her 7th cat life.
One night, after a horrible downpour, I went to on check the 3 wk old babies and mama. I found the Torte drenched, shivering, barely breathing & lying under a gutter downspout alone. I brought her back to mama & she nursed her back to health. 2 wks later, after much heat/humidity I found her two orange tabby brothers dead from a horrid Myiasis infestation. When I checked her, I saw the same eggs covering her rear end. We took her immediately to the emergency vet & she was treated for maggott infestation. We weren't sure if we helped her soon enough & didn't want to give her a name, risking our hearts breaking even more if she didn't make it. The vet listed her as "Miss Kitty" Garcia to have something on file. After a touch & go week, she began thriving! Devouring every bit of food, exploring, snuggling with us after feedings, playing non-stop.
A year and three name changes later (Miss Kitty to Siete to Pooper) she is the joy of our lives.
Mary came into my life at a crucial moment. I had lost my dear, dear English Mastiff, Little Bruce a few months earlier at 2 yrs. 10 months, that I grieved for very deeply. In the last year, I had also lost my father, three uncles, an aunt, a very dear friend and was diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer... and my marriage was on the rocks. The day Mary came into my life, I decided to stop all treatments, went to Walmart for packing crates and was going to just roam until I dropped. Coming home from Walmart, a message on the answering machine from the pound said they had an "aggressive mastiff mix" being put down in 2 days. Why me? How did they get my name or number? I shook my head. I am not a rescuer or Cesar Milan. But thought I'd give her Bru's left over treats. Mary responded well to me; I tried to get her another chance but they said no. "She goes with you or she goes down tomorrow." I took her and later found out by coincidence she is a Cane Corso. She is the sweetest dog I've ever known. She plays very well with other dogs, especially little dogs, is great with babies and children, likes cats although they don't see it that way and is good with people. She has completed dog training and we are close to getting a Good Canine Citizen award! I've yet to see one sign of aggression in her since I got her. Mary is special on many levels. It is amazing --- this dog was not only on death row, but not even "available" for adoption -- and she is a true angel, a true miracle. I love her.
My son and I were driving home one night and my headlights shined on a little white kitten standing next to the road. Since it was dark and I was afraid that she would be hit by a car I pulled over and got out. It took a few minutes for her to come close enough for me to grab her, but I got her and put her in my son's lap. Already having 3 cats and 2 dogs I told my son that we would find a good home for her, but that it would not be our home. We have now had her for 6 months and she is a big part of our family. Not long after I brought her home we realized that she was deaf. I firmly believe that God put her on the side of that road for me to find!
When you think of drug house dogs, a tiny beagle mixed is not what comes to mind. After a raid on a drug house the Manchester PD found Savannah with a broken leg. The broken leg had happen 3 days before. The Animal Control Officer took her into a local vet, knowing that the bills would be paid for by the shelter. After surgery, she went to the shelter, and then was sent home with me for foster. Shortly after, she was turned over to the shelter, by the jailed owner, I filled out the papers to keep her. It's been over two years, and I enjoy every minute of having her with me.
Fuss was found under a dumpster with 2 siblings who, sadly, didn't survive. Covered in afterbirth, cold, hungry and fussy from the start, he was dubbed Sultan Fuss because of the amount of "fussing" he does and the fact that he thinks that he is royalty.
Due to the condition he was found in, the vet estimated that he had been alive for no longer than 2 hours when we came across him. The vet had little hope for his survival, but we were able to warm him, and get him to nurse from a syringe, then from a bottle. He only weighed a few ounces when he was found, but now tips the scales at a little over 2 pounds; he will be 3 months old on May 9th. Since he was too tiny to leave alone at home, I started taking him to work with me. He has become the unofficial "office cat" and is very eager to climb into his carrier and go to work each morning. He entertains visitors throughout the day and really turns on the charm when my co-workers come to my office during breaks for their daily "kitten fix".
He has a need to be involved with everything that goes on around him and often sits between my computer keyboard and monitor to perform "quality control" checks on my work at the office. He loves to stage ambushes on the feet of the unwary, and feels that any cup left lying around is his to investigate and drink from should he so desire.