We tease my little soul dog Anime because she doesn’t have the svelte figure she once had. She’s now been taking the shots she needs every 25 days for a year, and they caused her to gain weight. They also saved her life. We like her just the way she is–happy, healthy, and good as can be with a dash of mischief. She loves everybody, and everybody loves her.
One day last month, three unrelated puppies all had to be taken directly from BARC to one of our emergency care partners because none were doing well. RPM needed someone to go to the hospital to sign them in and promise payment, so I offered to do that and met the volunteer transporter there. Her name is Melody, and she sat with me in the hours that the vets provided updates on all three dogs’ condition and care plans. Sadly, two of the pups didn’t make it–one seemed to have a congenital problem, and the other was fading from distemper-type symptoms. Both had to be humanely euthanized to end their suffering. Run free, sweet Daisy and Mellie.
Melody also brought Peabody. He was in a carrier, so I didn’t really get to see him before he was taken back. I knew he had a head injury and possible dislocated jaw (that’s why his tongue hangs out). He had a bit of a rough patch upon arrival, but he started eating and the ER staff, Melody, and I had lots of hope that he’d be okay. A couple of hours later, he was able to go into a foster home.
Peabody traveled today. He’s growing and doing great. His receiving rescue will take care of his injuries in Colorado, where a surgeon will get him all fixed up.
The losses can be devastating, but the successes… well, one day Peabody is going to be somebody’s perfect friend, and he will deserve all the love in the world after his rough start. Happy life, Peabody!
Meet Pepsi and Cola, a bonded pair. Two of RPM’s most amazing volunteers are a couple who own a lot of land and one use they make of it is fostering larger dogs–their passion is white shepherds. They hosted this pair and sponsored all of their vetting so that Pepsi and Cola could travel to their rescue in Colorado.
“No big deal,” Pepsi and Cola say, “that one of us has only three legs.”
“Life is grrrreat!”
February 20 is Love Your Pet Day. My dogs think EVERY day is Love Your Pet Day.
They also think treats are a sign of love.
This is handsome Emmett. He is exactly the dog I’d have fostered if I could foster, but it’ll be a while before that happens again (as in, the home repairs need to be finished). Emmett had some injuries and RPM wanted to get him to our rescue partner as quickly as possible, but he also needed to be neutered. BARC is overcrowded with animals and short-staffed with vets, so Tom and I offered to sponsor Emmett’s surgery at Anime’s vet, where Emmett went for xrays for his injuries.
I don’t know if Emmett would thank us for getting him fixed, but he sure looks better on transport day than he looked in his kennel card photo when he arrived at BARC. I think he’s well on his way to a happier life!
Emmett’s kennel card:
There are no words I can say more powerful than these photos. I’m sorry, because I know the first one is painful to look at.
This is Tiger, a dog RPM pulled from BARC the last day of November. His foster, Susan, will always take the mange babies. They are her mission and passion. When she got Tiger, he was not only emaciated and covered in sores, he had given up.
You can follow Tiger’s entire journey to healing by going to his own Facebook page. Susan not only gave him the best care, she documented it up to and including his trip to Colorado. For one weekend, she’s become a Rescued Pets Movement driver so she can personally deliver Tiger to his new foster home while he waits for his forever family.
This is the image I want to leave you with–a shot I took of Tiger today. Thank you Susan, thank you BARC, RPM, and DCCR for giving Tiger everything he’ll need to grow into a beautiful, strong, happy adult dog. One day I hope his new family will send a photo of Tiger with the light in his eyes that means he knows he’s home and will be given only love from now on.
…let us pause for a moment to honor drywall.
That familiar view of the living room, with an appearance by Tom and Just Jack.
A little of the library.
You’ve seen this angle of the library before. Only now the dogs’ secret passageway has been blocked. Don’t think they didn’t notice, because they did. Anime has explored the entire house because like the late great Margot, she is not a fan of change. But as the sweetest dog, she forgives everything.
The other side of that wall, the dining room from a few posts previous.
Another view of the library. Eventually we’ll have a new front door.
We can no longer see light through the lower walls of our bedroom where light should not have been coming in.
The guest room. Because one day, we’ll have guests again. If Jack doesn’t scare them away.
The middle room. Like the middle child (Delta), it probably gets less blog exposure. Also like the middle child, it can be very charming. One day that will be true again.
There’s not a way to measure the happiness that seeing this progress on Houndstooth Hall gives me. But I can say when I was talking to Keith Our Contractor the other day about paint colors, he said it made him happy to see me smiling. I think I’m doing a lot more of that. =)
How it was just before we moved in, early 2015.
Tom and I picked that accent wall color because we wanted something our Rothko print (thanks, Amy!) would look good against (hi, little foster dog Raina!):
How it looked this morning:
See that big roll on the right? That is insulation!
Yes, that was put in today, and tomorrow, the drywall crew begins. PROGRESS AT LAST!
Current Photo Friday theme: Dawn
I surely have photos of dawn skies, but they are on the old computer. So you get Dawn the puppy, and her reflection in Ray-Bans.
Every Thursday I think again, “This must be the most amazing bunch of dogs and cats we’ve ever transported!” I never get tired of seeing the animals who’ve had so many advocates who want to make sure they get good homes. I wish I could say that the stories that grab our heartstrings are rare ones, but they happen all the time. Like Ginger’s story.
Ginger was brought to the shelter to be euthanized. She probably can’t hear or see well, and she’s 14 years old. BARC immediately began looking for help for her. She was scared and confused. Even with her vision and hearing problems, though, she came right out of the kennel to be loved and petted. One of our extraordinary Colorado rescue partners jumped at the chance to find this sweet senior a good home.
There is no doubt in my mind that Ginger’s new forever family is at the end of her journey to Denver. Happy life, sweet girl.
ETA: Less than 24 hours after arriving in Colorado, Ginger was adopted by a vet tech. She’s going to be very loved and taken care of.