Pet-Peeves: Being abandoned and left to an uncertain future!
Favorite Food: Any food-just feed me!
Favorite Walk: Anywhere you take me
Best Tricks: Being adorable, loving YOU unconditionally
Arrival Story: This page is dedicated to all the doggies that have passed through our home and the un-official "Kris & Deb's Hungry Puppy Pet Rescue & Resort" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you are interested in adopting any of the adorable pups on this page please paw mail me and I can let you know if they are still available. Some are fostered with me personally.
This page also represents all of the other pups that have been saved and adopted and passed through our home.
Thank you for looking!
Bio: The following story was written by JIM WILLIS whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting but, he has granted permission to share his work and this truly speaks to the heart of all Rescue Pets!!**************************** ******
How Could You?
BY JIM WILLIS 2001~~~~~~~~~~~
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisoner of love. As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed, "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?" They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.
At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?".
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself --a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever.
May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
A Note from the Author:
If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American and Canadian animal shelters. Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice. Please use it to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.
'Tis the night before Christmas and all through the town,
every shelter is full - we are lost but not found,
Our numbers are hung on our kennels so bare,
we hope every minute that someone will care,
They'll come to adopt us and give us the call,
"Come here, Max and Sparkie - come fetch your new ball!!
But now we sit here and think of the days
we were treated so fondly - we had cute, baby ways.
Once we were little, then we grew and we grew,
now we're no longer young and we're no longer new.
So out the back door we were thrown like the trash,
they reacted so quickly - why were they so rash?
We "jump on the children:, "don't come when they call",
we "bark when they leave us", climb over the wall.
We should have been neutered, we should have been spayed,
now we suffer the consequence of the errors THEY made.
If only they'd trained us, if only we knew,
we'd have done what they asked us and worshiped them, too.
We were left in the backyard, or worse - left to roam,
now we're tired and lonely and out of a home.
They dropped us off here and they kissed us good-bye,
"Maybe someone else will give you a try."
So now here we are, all confused and alone,
in a shelter with others who long for a home.
The kind workers come through with a meal and a pat,
with so many to care for, they can't stay to chat,
They move to the next kennel, giving each of us cheer,
we know that they wonder how long we'll be here.
We lay down to sleep and sweet dreams fill our heads,
of a home filled with love and our own cozy beds.
Then we wake to see sad eyes, brimming with tears,
our friends filled with emptiness, worry, and fear.
If you can't adopt us and there's no room at the Inn,
could you help with the bills and fill our food bin?
We count on your kindness each day of the year,
can you give more than hope to everyone here?
Please make a donation to pay for the heat
and help get us something special to eat.
The shelter that cares for us wants us to live,
and more of us will, if more people will give.
Although I am very sad that Oscar is gone I am very grateful to have been able to keep him here with me and let him be a just a happy, regular family dog. That is something I am sure he never had before. He had no idea what it was like to come inside the house much less live inside and sleep in his very own bed. He finally slept in a little bed in my room. When he first came to me he was very independent and didn't seem to understand what human kindness and attention was all about but, at the end he would follow me around and meet me in the kitchen every chance he got.
Oscar and I had a midnight ritual where I would go into the kitchen for water and he would meet me in there to get a secret treat that none of the other dogs knew about. It was so cute because I always thought I was being quiet but, Oscar always showed up ;)
In less than a year that I fostered Oscar he used many of his 9 lives...if he were a cat! Many times I thought...well..this is it! But, he was a tough little guy! He had heartworms and terribly bad teeth which he was treated for.
He was bitten by a pygmy rattle snake and had a couple other mystery illnesses but, still he just bounced back. Reminded me a lot of my dad Earl.
Oscar...you are one in a million and I'll never forget you!!!!
All my love...Your MOMMY
I have been tagged by the Handsome Scout...
Here are the rules:
Each player starts with seven random facts about themselves. Dogs who are tagged, need to post in their Diary the rules & their 7 pawsome facts. Then choose 7 dogs to tag and list their names. Don’t forget to bark them a pmail that they have been tagged and to read your Diary, or, send them a fun Rosette announcing they've been Tagged!
Her are my seven pawsome facts...
1. I was found wandering the streets in Jacksonville, FL
2. I was in the same neighborhood where my brother Buddy lived
3. I can jump really high!!!
4. I am very sweet & polite to people
5. I love to play with other doggies
6. I really LOVE to eat! Dinner time is my favorite time!!!
7. I spend almost all day outside sitting quietly and still watching for squirrels!