In Memory of Jupiter

As my foster dog Jupiter has become more comfortable here, he’s started to show aggression with other dogs. While I don’t know exactly what he’s gone through in the first five years of his life, I know that lack of socialization played a big part in the dog he has become. And while Jupiter is just wonderful with humans, for the sake of other dogs, and due to a huge shortage of foster homes available to take in a dog like Jupiter, I made the very difficult decision to euthanize him. As I struggled with this decision, and thought about conversations I’d had with other rescuers about Jupiter, I looked in Jupiter’s eyes and we had a heart conversation something like this:




Me and Jupiter in happier times



Me: Oh Jupie, I am so sorry I can’t save you.

Jupiter: You already did save me. You’re the first person to ever really love me.

Me: You’ve come so far. When you first came here you would shy away if I raised my hand, but now you know that if I raise my hand it is always to pet you, and never to harm you. You were mistreated by your previous owner, but you still are the most loving, affectionate dog.

Jupiter: You’ve given me everything that I’ve never had before. Good food, medical care, a comfortable bed, and most of all, your time and affection.

Me: And you’ve given me love and comfort in return. Your life has been awful before you came here, and now in such a short time it has to end? It isn’t fair!

Jupiter: I know. But I live in the moment, with no time for regrets of the past. And this moment, being with you, is perfect.

Me: My friend said this is bound to happen when you rescue the toughest cases.  But Jupie, you're the best dog.  I’m so sorry that I have failed you.

Jupiter: You didn’t fail me, my previous owner did.

Me: I hate him.

Jupiter: I love you.

Me: Wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge?

Jupiter: Of course.



Kenny - Dog Walker Extraordinare



This morning I held Jupie in my arms as he died, and I whispered to him to find Kenny. All Paws Rescue recently lost one of our best volunteers - our dear friend - and we’re sure he’s now at the Rainbow Bridge greeting all the dogs he’s helped to save. I believe Kenny will take care of Jupiter until I get there.

In Memory of Shelby

Today I lost my girl.  Shelby had several more seizures, and the vet finally said there was nothing more that could be done for her.  She is now at peace - no more suffering.  Everyone who met Shelby seemed to fall in love with her.  She was only three years old, and she had such a short life.  But she brought a lot of joy to others in those three short years.

The first time I saw a picture of Shelby was when someone posted her on my Facebook page.  She was in an animal shelter and they were trying to find a rescue for her because she was deaf.

I didn't fall in love with her right away.  I was nervous about taking in a new dog without being able to evaluate her first, and it didn't help when the lady who transported her to me called to ask if I had a crate because she was awful in the car.  I didn't have a crate, so fashioned a harness for her and hoped for the best.  All the way on the 30 minute drive home, she bounced around as far as she could in her harness and barked constantly at every passing car.  She was so excited, and I was a little bit nervous of her.  After all, a large dog that I had just met was barking in my ear and lunging past me trying to get to any cars that came by.  I wondered what I had gotten myself into.  Then we got home and she calmed down as soon as the car stopped.  I took her inside and introduced her to the other dogs.  She was so easy-going.  A couple of the dogs were being rude and pushy, and she just ignored them.  I was very relieved, since my biggest fear was that she wouldn't do well with the other dogs.

Within a few days, I started getting really attached to Shelby.  It wasn't just that she was such an easy dog to care for, or that she was so affectionate.  It wasn't just because she had one brown eye and one blue eye - a combination I love.  It wasn't even just because she was such a sweet girl and so eager to please.  I couldn't define it, but within a week I was totally in love with her.  I so much wanted for her to have a long, wonderful life.  I connected with Shelby in a way that I do with very few dogs, and having to say good-bye to her today was heartbreaking.  But I am relieved that she is no longer suffering, and I am glad that I got to know her and love her for the short time that she was here.

Shelby 2008 - 2012

In Memory of Sal

Today I had to let my foster dog Sal go to the Rainbow Bridge.  He was only with me for a very short time, and it wasn't nearly long enough.  When I first met Sal, it was in the parking lot of a McDonald's halfway between my house and the animal control facility he'd been turned into.  A volunteer met me there with him, and she told me Sal had just finished enjoying a hamburger while they waited for me to arrive.  I met this muscular brown pit bull who looked very pleased to have just eaten such a yummy meal.  He greeted me happily, and was on his best behavior all the way home.

Once we got home, Sal quickly made himself comfortable.  It took a few days to get him introduced to the other dogs, but before long he was running around and playing happily with all of the other dogs.  The more I got to know Sal, the more I knew what a great dog he was.  Sal absolutely loved to eat.  As soon as he saw me approaching the area with the food bowls, he began his "happy dance".  He did his happy dance while following me back and forth across the room as I put each bowl down into an empty crate.  He often tried to run into a crate that wasn't his just so he could get to eat sooner.  Finally, it was Sal's turn, and he ran into his crate and gobbled down his food.  Then he lay there quietly and waited while all the other dogs finished up.  When meal time was over and the dogs were out of their crates, Sal went from crate to crate looking for any missed pieces of kibble.  Only when he was certain that there was no more food remaining would he return to my side, ready for his after-mealtime belly rub.

Sal loved belly rubs.  He would jump up on the couch next to me and press his nose against me and look at me with his big brown eyes as if to ask "what are you waiting for?"  Then I'd start petting him, and he'd roll over on his back and wag his tail and smile.  All he wanted out of life was a good bowl of food and a person to cuddle with and give him belly rubs.  And for a week, that's exactly what he got.

I thought Sal was perfect.  He was good with other dogs, and fine with cats.  He was friendly and easygoing and even though he was a deaf pit bull, I was sure he'd be able to find a home.  I took him to meet a dog trainer so he could start working toward his Canine Good Citizen certification.  He didn't even know how to sit on command, but with a little practice I thought he could learn quickly.  The first incident happened when the trainer greeted him.  He suddenly growled and then lunged at her for no apparent reason.  We both thought it was odd.  I hoped that it was just that he was excited - maybe he was trying to play.  I had never seen any aggressive behavior from him and neither had the volunteers at the shelter where he came from.  The trainer tried to figure out what caused it and tried to get him to react to her again, but the rest of the time he was calm and friendly.  The event worried me, but I decided to just wait and test him with her again later to see what happened.  We went back home and things went back to normal.

Until today, when we went to the vet's office.  Sal needed some shots and a heartworm test before he'd be ready for adoption.  The vet took Sal to the back and a few minutes later I heard a commotion.  The vet then returned to tell me that Sal had growled and lunged at her during her exam.  It was before she did anything invasive or painful, so she didn't know what had triggered him to act that way.  This was the worst possible news.  If Sal was aggressive with people, especially when we were unable to recognize what triggered the aggressive behavior, then he couldn't be safely adopted out.  The fact that he'd been aggressive with two professionals - people who knew how to interact with dogs and could easily read their signals if they were uncomfortable - was a clear indicator that he could become aggressive again with anyone at any time.  I didn't want to make the decision to have him euthanized.  I wanted to believe he could be saved.  I've saved dogs who were much more people aggressive than Sal - how could this be happening?  But I knew that Sal was a special case because he didn't have any obvious triggers that made him become aggressive.  The vet also believed that Sal may have had distemper and could be having mini-seizures when stressed.  The cute sideways head tilt that I found adorable was a sign, the vet said.  So was the silly air-licking that he did sometimes, and the funny gait, and the pacing.  So after talking to the vet, the rescue group president, a trainer and the volunteer who drove him to me, I made the tough decision to let him go.

I petted Sal and gave him the hand sign for "okay" and "good dog" as the vet euthanized him.  I'll miss him every day.  This is the hardest part of rescue - the ones we can't save.  Rest in peace, my Sal.

In Memory of Chenille

The first twelve years of her life are a mystery. Somehow, this sweet little Pomeranian was picked up as a stray and taken to a shelter in Independence, Missouri. A rural no-kill rescue group pulled her from the shelter when she was out of time, but they quickly discovered she was deaf. The rescue group knew they wouldn’t have much luck placing a senior, handicapped dog, and they didn’t want her to live the rest of her life in a kennel. So they sent out a request asking for help. I received the e-mail and offered to help. So her temporary foster mom got her groomed and cleaned up, and then volunteers worked together to transport her across the state to me.

 From the beginning, everyone who met this sweet little dog seemed to fall in love with her. And the feeling was mutual. Chenille was always happiest when she could sit on a lap and be petted. She was usually very quiet, but she had the funniest habit of barking twice when she wanted something. It was never three or more times – just twice. “Bark bark”. Then silence. If I ignored her, a few minutes later I would again hear her signature “bark bark” - her quiet way to remind me that it was time for dinner. 

Chenille was a very easy dog to care for.  She liked to curl up in a cat crate and sleep, and then come out when it was time for dinner or petting. She liked other dogs, cats, and of course people of all ages.  She liked to curl up on your lap and watch TV with you, and she'd put her paw on your arm to remind you to keep petting her if you stopped.  Before long, a very nice couple fell in love with her and decided to foster her until she was ready to be adopted. So Chenille went to stay with her new mom and dad, and I got visiting rights.

No one knew it at first, but Chenille had some health problems. Could it be why she ended up as a stray after twelve years? We’ll never know. But it seemed that as soon as one medical issue resolved itself, another took its place. Chenille was on several different medications to treat her symptoms, but she continued to get worse to the point where she could not keep food down. One of the vets was kind enough to take Chenille home with her for a week to be able to observe her symptoms first-hand.  She worked with a specialist to identify the problem.  Sadly, Chenille was diagnosed with a degenerative neurological disease. A disease without a cure. And our only option was to watch her starve to death or to put her to sleep and end her suffering.

So on Tuesday we made the decision to let her go. I said goodbye, then held her while she passed. Her life after being rescued from the shelter wasn’t very long, but I believe she was more loved during those months than ever before in her life. Thank you Jessica, and Dr. Ann, and Janice and Robert, for filling her life with love. 

We miss you, sweet girl.