Today two heart broken women began to heal and in two separate instances, two dogs found their forever home. Though the stories of the heart break are not mine to tell, I’m honored that I was able to be a part of the healing process and in one of the instances, one of my favorite dogs found his destiny.

No More Dogs

Today a family of three adults stood before me, two of them barely holding in the tears that welled up in their eyes until at last they spilled over.  I held the woman who feared she’d never again have a dog to love but so quickly realized that the love she had to give would out-weigh any reservations so she and her family took that brave next step and opened their hearts and their home to a sweet boy named Phineus.

Phineus, thief of hearts ♥️

Today a young woman strolled through a Farmer’s market with her handsome (and nearly perfect) dog in tow for the first time. I imagine a small yet quivering smile on her face as she basks in the moment as young hands reach out to pet her dog, who laps up the attention with such unabashed joy. 

This sunlit trip to a local Farmer’s market was probably being played out a thousand times through a thousand locations with a thousand people and their dogs but what made this special was that this trip sealed the deal. Upon returning home, Wilfred finally was home. 

Wilfred. Wilfred has a long and sad story full of allergies and skin issues. The pain and discomfort he must have been living with took months to figure out a solution for and after two failed adoptions which resulted in the return of a nearly hairless dog with angry, seeping, red skin we found him a great foster family who nursed him back to his handsome good health and we set down some rules for Wilfred’s next and last adopter. His care will cost x amount annually. The brand of food he needs to eat and the medicine he needs daily and weekly will not be negotiable. When inquiries came in, I’d lead with the dollar amount and I rightly scared away plenty of potential adopters.

And then an application came in. It wasn’t for Wilfred and I wasn’t going to pay it much attention. Because of the location I mentally counted how many dogs were sitting in shelters between here and there and I felt immediately pissed but then I asked a mutual and highly respected friend who gave a glowing recommendation, so I called the applicant. After hearing her story and chatting with her I became certain that not only was she meant to meet Wilfred but I believe I was meant to help her find her next dog. 

Rambling 

Much of both stories are really for myself. Without sharing the details, a reader (are you still there?) won’t really understand the significance of each story and like I said, they aren’t my stories to tell. The thing that amuses me about some people is how few understand why we have out process in place. We received a message one night at just after midnight – “I just filled out an application so when can I come meet dogs?” Ummm, well, not right now…. I want to ask these people if they fill out job applications and then just “show up to work” without he benefit of oh say an interview? 

I take my “job” seriously and am more than a little bit proud of the process. We don’t just give you a dog because you fell in love with the look in her eyes. We talk to you, we ask questions, we get to know you and by the time you’ve adopted we feel like friends and we are happy to have shared in the journey. We are certainly not perfect at it but with each day we learn and we get better.  Some days we are hugged by broken hearted people who are beginning to heal. Sometimes we shed a tear for a dog who deserves all the wonderful things in life and we know he has finally gotten the great life he deserves.

We are rescuers and we save lives…and heal broken hearts.

Three days. 

 When I walked you out of the shelter on a Wednesday, I believed that you would be adopted three days later at our adoption event. Apparently you and the Grand Scheme had other plans since you remained a Peaceabull for eight weeks before your family found you. We had a few applications which went down in flames and left me scratching my head in confusion; dogs that look like you get snapped up very quickly.

On your second day at the Assembly, you and Julius had a Peaceabull parallel walk followed by pictures in the back yard which lead to quite the big brother/little sister relationship. How could we have anticipated that while Julius was your special friend, all other comers would pale in comparison? Maybe it was his cool, aloof air that drew you to him. You’d prance and spin in front of him attempting to get him to play and on the rare occasions that he’d engage, he would invite you to chase him around the yard. I believe each time you “caught” him it was because he gave you some leeway as a big brother might do, but you were proud to catch him in all of is gazelle-like speed.

Your unshakable certainty that all humans were put in your path specifically to love, be loved (and slimed) by you was one of the facets of your personality that initially drew me to you. Being in a shelter did not inhibit your effervescence and your kind, forgiving spirit glowed in your soft brown eyes. Evenings I’d spend some one on one time with you and gently cup your big head and gaze into those loving eyes, I’d whisper into your nubby ears that you’ll always be my baby girl and I love you with all my heart. I’d promise to find you the best, most loving home just as you deserve. I’d bury a vow in your neck that you’ll always have a home with us if you ever need it, but a better one of your own is out there waiting for you and I would find it for you.

My resolve waivered often; I wanted to keep you so I could have my own little piggy-girl to take out in public and shop with. You were the perfect car companion. You LOVE car rides. Remember the East Coast trip we shared? You hopped (ok, lumbered) into the back seat and promptly set out to snoring as I drove along the stretches of highway. The funny thing about that trip was that while you were such a good rider, I still had the impression that you felt like you were going to be abandoned somewhere along the route. Is that what happened to you so many months ago? Were you bred and dumped when your perceived usefulness was done? We bonded on that trip; our all girl road trip was one that I’ll always remember with fondness. When we returned you went on a few more meet and greets which never really panned out and each time you returned my heart soared just a bit and then constricted at my selfish thought. 

You loved us, of that I am sure. You loved your circumstances because you’re a girl of simple needs; two meals a day at your regular time, a bedtime snack, lullabies on Alexa at night and children’s music by day, a soft bed, fuzzy blankets and a few chew toys all made you happy. “Go to your room!” always found you waddling into the office where you spent so much time behind a baby gate and yet, you didn’t seem to mind one bit. You and Ray-Ray would gaze at each other and I have a feeling you would have become best friends eventually, but your family found you.

That they are your family I was always sure, even though I briefly tried to talk myself out of that notion. But they are yours. They love you and you love them, as it should be. As I loaded your belongings into the van, you didn’t seem sad or uneasy. In fact, you seemed to know. I was a wreck and I tearfully told Kevin that if this meet and greet didn’t work out and you came back, you would never leave again. In his manly (tearful) way, he agreed. I didn’t know if I could do it, didn’t know if I could let you go and leave you but when we arrived, I just knew. This was your home and your family had indeed found you. After overstaying my welcome and reiterating all of your likes and dislikes way too many times, I scooted out the door and you were so entranced with your very own human boy that you hardly noticed my departure. In the van, the van I figured I’d be crying my eyes out in, I felt nothing but peace and joy. I’d found your family and I had no qualms about the match. My little piggy, my Margeaux in the morning, my little love…the little foster dog who touched the hearts of so many and ignited a movement on Facebook in just 8 weeks and has now moved on to her forever home just as it should be. 

Remember you are loved.

I can’t say that I’m any more aware of Pit Bulls or Pit Bull type dogs in October than I am during any other month, and I’m not big into celebrating things just because someone tells me to but would rather celebrate little things with my guys just because.  That isn’t to say that I don’t love the idea of a month dedicated just for the block heads.  I think they deserve it as does every breed, style, make or model of dog.  We should celebrate our four-legged friends often.

When reading about the situation in Montreal, I can’t help but feel bemused that some of the pro-BSL folks are contending the “millionaire pit bull lobby” (google it, I won’t link to it) are trying push their agenda that BSL doesn’t work.  Yet on the other proponents of BSL contend that criminals and dangerous people are the ones who are attracted to and wish to own Pit Bulls.

I am neither a millionaire nor am I a criminal but I do like to fancy myself a dangerous person in the “don’t fu@k with the tiny middle-aged Korean” sense.  Do I have a lion tamer complex?  I do not.  I rather see myself as someone who loves her dogs and revels in the fact that they love me back just as whole heartedly.  I love my avocation of helping to place these wonderful dogs into loving homes where they fulfil their obligation to hog the sofa, snore like pigs and love with hearts bigger than their heads.

There’s no point to this other than to reiterate that my dogs, like all dogs are individuals and I will continue in my self appointed role of protector  and defender of these fat heads until I can no longer draw a breath.

I’ll leave you with this: today I met this big lug head of a guy.  All 83 pounds of him just stood and wagged his tail at me while I bent to pet his snout and he mimiced my movements till he was lying at the fence to kiss my finger.  He and I went for a short walk where he tried his best to show me his good leash skills until a squirrel would happen by.  Luckily for me and my arm, I’m an old squirrel spotter from way back and have some impressive skills myself so we struck a happy balance for the duration of the walk.  We walked just far enough for me to fall madly in love.  If you are interested in adding the biggest mush bucket to your home, visit the Allen County SPCA and ask to visit with Abel.

The difference between volunteering at a bustling shelter and an up and coming rescue is vast but no matter what the rewards are great.  If you see my Facebook at all you know that in the past year and a half or so I’ve become more and more involved with the Pit Bull Coalition and that definitely has caused a shift in my so called free time.  That’s completely fine, though because I’m doing something that I believe in and it’s something that I feel passionate about.

We ended last year with having done 109 adoptions and as of the end of August this year have done 124. My not so secret goal is to reach 200 but if it doesn’t happen it doesn’t happen.  I won’t push an adoption to reach a numeric goal but we will just keep plugging away at it and one of the things I stress with adopters is that once you adopt from the Pit Bull Coalition, you are family.  We are intrusive in the best possible way, of course.  Naturally we do follow ups and love seeing pictures of our alumni in their happy homes.  I’m honored to be Facebook friends with numerous adopters to see them out and about at events and to be “real life” friends as well.

Occasionally we get an especially touching case and Kya was just such a case.  She was about 7 years old last fall at the time of intake and she had lived with a couple who then had children therefore relegated Kya to the in-laws home where she was cared for but not necessarily doted on.  She had the basics but eventually was given to us in hopes of finding her a better life.

I had been working with a lady who eventually became dubbed “The Crying Lady” because, well, she had recently lost her dog and was quite emotional when meeting our adoptables.  She was well balanced by her stoic hubby and they were just the nicest couple.  After seeing Kya’s picture, TCL called me and I answered the phone to hear only sobbing.  We knew Kya was the gal for her and for the following months, Kya was treated like a princess.  She became the beloved puppy that she never got a chance to be and was completely doted on.

As often happens with these stories, we learned just after a month or two after her adoption that Kya had cancer so her adoring parents set out to make the next few months the best ever for her.  When it became apparent that her time was winding down I met TCL and the Stoic Man at the vet to lend support as they sent her off to romp pain free at the bridge.  She was hugged and stroked and comforted every step of the way and as her last breath left, we applied some red lipstick to her nose and made an impression.  TCL left the lipstick on Kya to send her off to the bridge looking pretty.

We are family.  When you adopt from us, you adopt us for as much or as little as you want us in your life.  We don’t just adopt animals, we adopt family members.  We adopt love.

I’m not an overly demonstrative person and I try to keep my emotions pretty tightly bound.  In my mind that helps when I lend this support in times like this.  I hope Kya knows how adored she was.  I think she knew and I think she sent me a sign.  Feeling pretty solemn after the morning but soon, so very soon, I received a sign…a sign possibly from Kya signifying life goes on…

I got to pick these two little nuggets of love and bring them into rescue.

Thanks Kya.

Kya