Being a Proud Second Mom

Ok, so I don't have kids. Right now, that's a good thing as I sure don't have the room. But on Saturday morning, I opened up my home to two moms and their litters because I just have a hard time not giving them a chance after all they do to keep their puppies alive and stay with them.

One of the litters are three two-week-old puppies. Each pup fits perfectly in the palm of my hand. Their mom, Peaches, is only about 9 pounds, so you can imagine how tiny her babies are. But after I got them home, I discovered they had upper respiratory infections. Our vet was already closed so I called a rescue friend of mine in Bluffton. She nurses litters all the time, so I knew she'd have answers. I ended up loading mom and puppies back in the truck and driving to meet Karen at Petco in Bluffton. She took a look at the pups and gave me some pediatric amoxicillan for the babies. They would get it once a day and mom twice a day so she could pass it on to them through feedings. So back to Savannah we went.

I put mom up then set about to give the babies their medicines. They were so tiny, and even at that size, incredibly squirmy. You would think I could have better control, but I didn't. After a few minutes of a struggle, I finally got one cradled in my left arm, dropper in my right hand, and just watched as the baby nursed every little drop. It was so incredibly cute to watch him. When the dropper was empty, he made one more attempt to suck, then realizing he wasn't getting more, opened his little mouth as wide as he could and let out a big yawn. His little sandpaper-like tongue stuck out just an itsy bit, then he closed his mouth and settled into my arm. His eyes were sealed shut from the discharge, so we headed back to the bathroom where I got a warm, wet rag to gently remove it. He fussed just a tiny bit, but it was worth it. Even after I got it all out of his eyes, I noticed that his eyes were still shut. One of the other babies had his eyes opened already, and the little girl had started to open hers but she also had discharge that was helping to keep them closed. I took the little boy back to his mom, and proceeded to start the medication cycle with the other two babies.

For the next two days, I kept my eyes on them. I got them a snuggly bed that had been Hannah's when she was a baby. I put a small blanket on top of them, making sure they kept warm. Each time with the dropper they got a little better. Mom, however, did not. They really get their squirminess from her. She's 9 pounds of fireball when she wants to be, and medicine is not her thing. But by Monday afternoon, none of the puppies had runny noses, and my little crusty-eyed baby had finally opened his eyes! I just about squealed when I noticed it at medicine time yesterday afternoon. Poor Ryan was standing right behind me. Of course, he's just as much a sucker for little puppies as I am, which is why he volunteers at the ranch a couple times a week and takes puppies for playdates on the weekends. But I was just so proud of these babies. They had come so far; there had originally been seven in the litter, but only these three survived the two weeks at animal control. But now, they have a bright future ahead of them. No doubt there will be a rush to adopt once they are available. But for now, I'll enjoy playing second mom to them, watching them grow, seeing their little milestones. It's one of the pure joys of the work we do in rescue.

Finding Faith

It's a Monday. Like most people, I dislike Mondays only because my weekends are usually full of rescue work so I don't get to just relax and then I have to go back to work on Monday. This weekend was no exception.

On Saturday morning, I drove out to Springfield to Effingham County Animal Control to pick up a mom English Spaniel and her two puppies. I went to pick up 3, and left with 8. While I was in there, I found a young small breed mom and her three two-week-old puppies. Then I found a scared little Chihuahua girl who had unfortunately been kenneled next to two very aggressive ones. I opened up her cage and she darn near jumped out into my arms. No way I could put her back now. I got all 8 canines loaded into my truck and headed back in to pick up my paperwork. That's when I saw her.

Somehow, I had missed four dogs in outside runs. I later learned these are drop off kennels, where people can shove animals in when the animal control shelter is closed. I guess it is better than leaving them in the woods or on the street. Unlike the other dogs around her, she didn't make a noise. She just stood on her hind legs, poking her long snout through the chainlink as far as it could go. Her eyes showed so much sadness, but her little tail wag gave indication that she still had a little faith that someone could show her some kindness in her life. I walked over and looked her in the eye. She moved her head to the right, trying to get close to my hand. I scratched behind her ears and her eyes closed. Has she ever known how good that feels before? I could feel my eyes start to water. I've done this hundreds of times. I've said no so many times as well. I only have so much room, I'm only one person, my house is only so big. Then she got down, and I could finally see her full shape. Not one inch of meat on her body. One tear fell as my sadness turned to anger. How could anyone be so cruel?

Next to her kennel was a green leash someone had left when they dumped a dog. As quickly as I could, I turned it around and made a slip lead so I could get her out of her kennel. She didn't understand what I was doing. I put it around her, then opened up the kennel door. She stood there. I gave a tug and out she came, legs shaking and head down. She had no confidence whatsoever. I walked her into the animal control office and began asking questions. I was told she had been left overnight and they had just logged her in. I begged them to let me take her, but the law says they have to hold for three days. I asked that if I microchipped her quickly, since it would be in the rescue's name if that would prove ownership and I could take her. It was farfetched, but I was willing to do just about anything to take her right then. Of course I was told no, and as I didn't really want to cause too much trouble, I agreed that I would be back the first thing on Monday morning. I handed her lead to a volunteer standing nearby and ran to my truck to get out a can of food for her. One of the other volunteers told me she'd go get more canned food and make sure that my little girl would be fed just that. I gave them the instructions, small meals more frequently so she wouldn't gorge herself, and was promised they would be followed. I knelt down beside my girl and wrapped my arms around her, put my face beside hers and whispered in her ear a promise that I would be there exactly when the doors opened on Monday to get her home. I'm sure she didn't believe me, why would she? No one else has bothered to care about her before.

It was hard to let go, but I had to get back and get to the vet appointments I had already scheduled for these animals. It was after 10 am now and we had a 45 minute drive ahead of us. And it wasn't a quiet one. I couldn't take my mind off my little hound girl, hurting inside knowing how lonely she must feel. I had the sounds of crying puppies and a slightly cantankerous mom in the back. Luckily for me, we have some of the most fabulous vets that work with us, and Dr. Hassan and her staff agreed to see everyone I had in the truck even though my appointment was only for three. It only took two hours for them all.

We got everyone in the truck, back to the ranch and settled. A couple hours later, I got an email from one of our volunteers about some dogs at Chatham County Animal Control. I agreed to take two Chihuahuas that had been a breeding pair and were dumped off by their breeder, the female of which was pregnant, and an older Chesapeake Bay Retriever mix female. What's a few more, right? But all weekend, I just could not stop thinking about the one I didn't get, and for once, Monday couldn't come soon enough.

So this morning, I was up at 10 till seven. I had to get as many of the dogs out and fed as I could before my drive. I wanted to be there right when the doors opened at 8:30 am. As it turned out, I was nine minutes later. And it was raining. How appropriate. But there she was, still in the same kennel where I found her as there was no more room inside the shelter for her. I walked up, reached my hand through and smiled. I had kept my promise. She wagged her tail. I walked in and waved, a huge grin on my face. "I'm back," I yelled over the sounds of barking from the other kennels. My paperwork was filled out and we headed so I could get my girl. I decided to name her Faith. I had the kennel manager video my taking her out. I wanted other people to see what it's like those first moments that we make a rescue. For me, it's a huge thrill every time.

We got Faith in the truck and gave her a little food for the ride. Then we were on the road. I kept looking in my rear view mirror to check on her, like a nervous new mom. She would curl up in a ball for a few minutes, then get up and move to another spot. She did that for about 20 minutes before she finally settled in just behind my seat. I smiled again.

So here I sit, writing the beginning of Faith's journey towards a new life. I have her in a crate in my office so she'll have a lot of interaction with me and learn what it is to have someone care about her. I have to keep feeding her small meals; she eats everything so fast, obviously worried she won't be fed again. That usually takes a few weeks or longer for them to learn. But now she's curled up in a ball, sleeping peacefully. At 4:30, we'll head to the vet. I'll bet it's her first time ever seeing one. I'll almost bet money that she has hookworms, tapeworms and heartworms. But at least it's all treatable. She's safe now, and that's what matters.

Breaking the Christmas Streak

Ever since 1996, my Christmases have been anything but happy times for me. That year, I lost my grandfather on the 13th. I remember every moment of that day so vividly. I was leaving to go to school. My dad was driving me because I was going to be going to UGA for the School Art Symposium, where my artwork had been accepted. I was walking down the front steps when he came behind me and said, "Your mom just called. Your grandfather passed. We'll be going to Atlanta when you get back." Anyone who knows my dad knows he has the same straight face all the time. I've never seen my dad cry in my life. He's always been a solid rock through anything and everything that ever faced our family. I take after him for the most part, but do a lot of crying in private. Anyhow, after Pawpa passed, Christmas was never the same. Every December, something happened to me or a member of my family that just made Christmas time stink. My junior year of college, I decided to stop going to north Georgia with my parents for Christmas. I was more content to just ride it out alone. But a couple years ago I went, and on Christmas Eve, we buried my brother's father (we have same mom but different dads). It was the first Christmas I had seen my entire family.

This December started out just like all the other Decembers. I came down with walking pneumonia. The rescue was broke. I was broke and had no idea how I was going to pay all the medical bills which I found out my insurance wasn't covering. My freelance jobs had run out. Then my truck battery died... at 10 pm, as I was leaving to go get canned puppy food and puppy pads. At least it died in the driveway so I could stay warm in the house while I waited for my roadside assistance to come. But then something strange happened... the tow truck guy saw how distressed I was and at 11 pm offered to follow me to Wal-Mart where I could buy a battery and he'd replace it for me for free. It was so cold that night, of course, I am a wuss about cold most anytime. But the fact that someone was going out of their way to help me out, really changed my whole mood. I was so incredibly thankful to him. And from there, things started to get a little better: I had 8 adoptions in one weekend, picked up a freelance job, got well, and had beautiful, warm weather to give me more time outside, which I love. I even had volunteers from the Savannah Jewish Federation's Trading Places on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day who gave me a big break from taking care of the dogs two nights in a row and left us donations as well. But my big surprise came on Christmas Day.

My parents are very patient people. I can't imagine how disappointed they must have been to work so hard to keep me in Catholic schools for 12 years to see me grow up and not follow the path they thought. My mom really expected me to go corporate, like my brother did. He's been with the same company (though they've changed names umpteen times) since I was in fifth grade. My dad wanted me to follow through with my acceptance to the Coast Guard Academy. But I did neither. I sorta made my path as I went. I never expected that putting myself through college would land me running an animal rescue. It started as a hobby and grew into something so much more, but it's keep me from getting a higher paying job, most likely away from Savannah, and living in a nice, big home like my siblings all have or driving a fancy car. Maybe it's because I was the only child raised on Tybee that I don't have a materialistic drive. I'm content with making just enough money to get by every month (ok, so a bit more than that wouldn't hurt). But come on, what did they expect of me? I got to spend a lot of years without heat, air conditioning and hot water. I've worked since I was 13. If nothing else, my parents instilled in me a very strong work ethic and the drive to never do anything halfway.

So anyhow, back to why this Christmas was great. The weekend before, there were no gifts under my tree. Heck, I had been so sick I hadn't bothered to decorate the tree, but at least it was fiber optic so it had some color to it. My friend, Jeremy, left me a big, beautifully wrapped box, and my parents came and dropped off the gifts they got me before they headed out of town. Now my tree looked a little less bare. I even opened up my door one morning to find a box from a foster parent, and my good friends Heather and Todd left me a card in my tree. And they were all such wonderful surprises. My parents got me four things I asked for my animal rescue work: steel toe boots, cargo pants, a weather radio, and emergency roadside kit. But one gift they gave me that I didn't ask for: a GPS system. I was so excited! I called my mom that morning and nearly screamed. She told me it was something she and my dad decided I needed for all the places I drive for the rescue. That really meant so much to me. The fact that they understand where my heart is made my Christmas so much more special. Then of course there was the lunchtime cookout with Betty and Charles and my little Sparky, followed by a fabulous dinner with two couples from the rescue, the people who have become my extended family.

So, all these years later, I've once again found the spirit of Christmas. I am truly blessed to have good friends, parents who support me, and on occasions, strangers who will give a helping hand. So here's looking forward to next Christmas!

Forclosed and Abandoned

We all know it's a ruff economy right now. I've been watching as our donations trickled to nothing and adoptions halted completely. There has been nothing worse than having to tell animals "no" every day because we have no more room, no more money, and no help in sight.

But for whatever reason, when I got the call on Wednesday about two abandoned collies (actually shelties) at a foreclosed home in Ardsley Park, I just couldn't bring myself to say no. I was told they were skittish and there was no idea on how long they had been left there (I later learned that the house had been owned by the bank for at least 45 days). I was at work but agreed to come over that evening and trap them after my board meeting. I sat back and thought about it. How many of these calls do I have to keep taking? I've had several landlords give us pets after people were evicted, and poor Hope lived on a chain for who knows how long before the landlord came and found her. Too many people ignore a problem because they don't hear about it. So, I invited WJCL's Stephanie Simoni to join me and show people what is happening in our area and how the economy is affecting pets.

So a little before 8 pm I arrived. It's a neighborhood adorned with Christmas lights and beautiful homes. Lawns are perfectly manicured, vehicles more expensive than I can look at parked on the road. It's not a place I would expect to come for these dogs. In the center of all this is a dark blob, a house that once stood with grandeur and hospitality to guests now something that even Sherman would have ignored. Furniture, trash out on the front lawn and old appliances and boxes cluttered the driveway. I changed clothes, donned my hat and headlamp, grabbed a slip lead and the new Maglite my daddy had given me and began headed to the backyard for the rescue. I swear I could have watched this on animal planet. We could have used Jeff Corwin to navigate the overgrowth.

My heart sank when we got into the backyard. The pool was pitch black, and apparently the only water source for the dogs. There was trash everywhere. The only food available was what the real estate agents had brought that day. What had these dogs been eating all this time to keep alive? I crawled around, setting out food balls strategically, getting them to smell it and hopefully entice them to come near. After about thirty minutes we got a lucky break: we spooked them enough to run into an open door in a sunroom. Now it was just a matter of approaching them slowly to get leads on them and get them out.

I got the first one on lead, and she just cowered down. It took a little longer to get the second one as she kept trying to hide under things. We ended up carrying them out in our arms to the truck as they weren't willing to walk on lead. The whole way home, they never made one sound in the truck. I took their silence to be a good sign, possibly that of relief and hope. I made a quick pit stop for dinner for me, as it was already 9:30 pm and I had worked up an appetite. I laughed as I walked into Arby's and got a strange look: I didn't realize just how dirty I had gotten during our rescue, but I was wearing it with pride.

When we arrived back to the ranch, I unloaded the girls still in their crates into the back yard. I took everyone else out to do their thing then proceeded to ready the grooming room, aka my spare bathroom, for a bath. I didn't realize I'd be there till nearly 2 am. I did Ardslea first. Her's wasn't that bad. A 45-minute brushing with the Furminator got a lot off of her. She was so patient, never moved the entire time. It must have felt so wonderful. Then I put her in the tub and started the water. She got a little nervous, but after a minute just stood there. We latered, rinsed, repeated. No more fleas, no more stinky smell. The towel drying went well, until I brought out the blow dryer. Lord knows if she's ever been groomed before, probably not, but that poor little dryer took a beating once she got ahold of it. I settled for putting towels down in a crate and letting her air dry. I wiped down the floors and proceeded to get Parka.

I'm not a groomer, never have been, never will be, but I am awfully proud of my job on Parka. I sat down with scissors to start cutting her mats. I then realized one entire side was just on big mat. A few years ago, I had bought an electric razor to use on a cocker spaniel named Honey. I hadn't used it since, but was so thankful it was within easy reach. I spent an hour and a half shaving poor Parka's fur. Her tail had been matted to her leg and underside, forcing her to eliminate on herself. I can't even begin to describe the smell and what all fell out when I freed her tail. But like her sister, she just sat there, letting me do my thing. When I got all the matted fur off, I put her in the tub. Obviously tired and knowing that this was the best, she stretched her legs out and lied down, waiting for me to do whatever. We did two shampoos to help get all the stench off the poor girl. She had to feel 1000 times better by now. I will say that she took the dryer much better than her sister, but since she was shaved, there was also less fur to be dryed. I walked her in and put her in the crate with Ardslea and went back to clean up. I came back through 30 minutes later, and there they were, curled up with each other asleep. I smiled and headed to the office to upload photos and send a couple of emails before heading to bed. After all, it was 2:45 am and I'd have to be up by 6 to do my morning chores before heading to work.

I took Ardslea and Parka to Dr. Hassan at Georgetown Veterinary Clinic on Friday. The girls were nervous but at least walking on a leash now. Everyone at the clinic knew them already; we had watched the story on WJCL's 6:00 news together the night before when I was picking Levi up from his neuter. I left them to get their shots, heartworm test, and microchip and check to see if they were already spayed. Luckily, yes, they were spayed, but sadly, they were both also heartworm positive. We'll have to wait two months to start their treatments to give them time to get used to proper nutrition and people again.

I took them back home and to their own kennel space and began to put out their food and water. It was then that I felt something on my shoulder. I turned to look, and it was Ardslea, pawing at me. I sat still for a minute and she did it again. I couldn't stop smiling. I put my arms around her and hugged her, scratching her behind the ears and telling her what a good girl she was. I put the food dish down and walked away, knowing that the girls are going to be ok, and we did something really good this week.

Video online:
http://www.thecoastalsource.com/news/local/36434669.html

Give Thanks by Giving of Yourself

As we approach the big Thanksgiving holiday, most people are thinking about all the things they are thankful for: family, friends, what is left in their 401K. I'm no different. I'm very thankful for the leadership team at Coastal Pet Rescue, the ones you don't see on TV but give all they have to get the pets into our program, properly cared for, and adopted. I'm thankful for the volunteers and foster parents that give of their time and homes to give our pets a second chance. I'm thankful for my supportive parents who still come to my rescue when I need them.

But today was a bit different. At the office (for my real, paying job), our production manager got all six of us to agree to join her at a blood drive at Second Harvest Food Bank. Turns out, we weren't the only ones that had the same idea as it was a drive coordinated by the Tourism Leadership Council. When we arrived, there was a line, so three of us had to wait, outside, in the cold wind. After 30 minutes I decided to move my truck closer so the other two girls and I could stay warm inside. Another 20 minutes later we were finally able to get in the blood mobile. An hour later, I was giving blood (the other two girls were turned away).

I have never given blood before. I always joke that I only save animals, which is why I'm a Red Cross instructor for Pet First Aid and CPR. I only recently got my certification for Adult First Aid, CPR and AED only because it was recommended by United Animal Nation's EARS program, for which I just got certified last month. I told the lady taking the blood that I was only there out of peer pressure. In fact, four of us were going for the first time. But as I sat up, a little dizzy from the drain, I actually felt a little good for helping people for once. We were each given a Christmas ornament featuring a white dove and the Red Cross logo. Underneath was a small card, "May the joy of giving keep you warm this holiday season."

This Thanksgiving, I encourage you to do something for others that you wouldn't normally do. Perhaps the best way to show your thanks is to pay it forward. You just never know when it might come back to you.

Sidenote:
Here's a quick way you can help others. The Second Harvest Foodbank of Coastal Georgia is a finalist for $100,000 worth of tuna. All they need to win are your votes. You can vote up to 3 times per day with your email address. Click here to lend a hand to your community now.

The Quest for New Jeans

Ok, so the word is out... I have lost 31 pounds since May 19th. I've gotten lots of compliments, mostly in the form of "wow, look at you." Ok yes, I know I was heavier the last two years than most people have ever known me to be in my life. But I ate my feelings, then the dogs ran it all off. So back to the jeans thing...

I have exactly one pair of jeans that fit me properly. They are left over from my college days and somehow missed the Goodwill transport two years ago. I feel great when I can wear them. The problem is I usually have to change clothes at least twice a day thanks to the pups. The other jeans I have are very loose and let's face it, I'm looking to strut the weight loss a little. Since I had a little down time tonight, I took myself to Savannah Mall, thinking I'd find something to make me feel great. What I found was frustration.

I hate clothes shopping. There are too many choices, and I never know if I'm really getting something that is in style. I much prefer comfort, just as my flip flops, shorts and tank tops, but that's not working for me with this weather right now. I don't remember the last time I went shopping for jeans, but I was incredibly frustrated tonight. Most were "low rise" and "boot cut" or "flare leg," none of which made me feel good. In fact, I was either worried about showing plumber's crack or tripping over my pants. Then there were all the different wash types and the instructions that some of the jeans would have to be washed separately before wearing. Again, this is not helping me to keep a simple and comfortable lifestyle if I have to wash one pair of jeans by themselves. I went through six stores and did not find a single pair I liked. I don't understand the trends today. Perhaps that is a sign that I'm getting older.

All the shopping and trying on clothes made me hungry, so I headed to the food court. I bounced back and forth trying to decide what would satisfy my palate. I ended up at Chik-Fil-A with a #1 combo. I found a seat a little hidden by the plants where I could watch the Hawks game without too many people looking at me like a loser, eating alone in the food court on a Friday night. But truth be told, I love doing that kind of thing. Usually, I'm at Barnes and Noble for a couple hours. I just love books, and since most people in there are fellow geeks and nerds as well, I never feel bad hanging out alone there. But for whatever reason, I really just don't care that I eat out alone so often. I don't have to worry about someone else thinking I'm a pig if I eat my dessert first or if I only order dessert at all. Of course, if I want to keep fitting into a size six jeans I'm going to have to learn to curb my fast food cravings. If nothing else, I can keep doing laps around the mall to work it all off.

So what was the point of this blog? Who knows. It's been a long couple of weeks, I have 12 dogs sleeping in my kitchen because of the cold, and I'm alone for the holidays again. Maybe Santa will bring me a personal shopper this year or better yet, the winning lottery numbers so I can move somewhere that I won't have to wear jeans ever again.

Who I Am

Recently, I've had some interesting discussions with friends, giving me perspectives about the person they think I am. Some are dead on, others, I think I should defend but maybe they are right as well. Regardless, the findings have been insightful and given me lots to think about.

"Rough around the edges." Ok, yeah, that's not really new. I give some blame of that to my father. Anyone that has ever met the man knows he speaks very little and never tells anyone anything good that he thinks of them. I'm very guilty of this, though I have tried much harder in the last year to do better. I still have some work to do. I'm also very guilty of saying what I'm thinking rather than pausing to reflect before I speak. Maybe that will be a new year's resolution.

"Suspicious [of others] until proven otherwise." It's no state secret that I've been hurt a lot in my life. Those that I allow into my inner circle didn't get in overnight. I take my time building my trust in others. I don't necessarily see this as a bad thing. Too often I have given trust too soon only to be made the fool or worse. So I'm a little protective of myself. It seems fair to be; the only one who is going to look out for me is me.

"Zealot." Ok, really, that I think was a bit much. Yes, I'm very passionate about my animal rescue, but I'm nowhere near the level of "zealot." I much prefer "passionatly determined." Just look at all these cute faces that enter my house with histories of abuse. Wouldn't you be, too?

"Stubborn." Once again, an attribute that is completely my father's genetics. While I may be set in doing things my way, I'm also set in making sure things happen. Yes, I may have run over a person or two along the way, but I'm learning to be better about listening to others before barreling down the road.

I really think these are only small parts of me. I consider myself a simple person (I'm not into materialistic things) who enjoys the comforts of her friends and a good companion. My favorite attire is shorts, tank top and flip flops, and I'll wear them most anywhere. I despise wearing makeup, but understand it is sometimes necessary for a greater good. I'm not a fan of designer labels for anything, though my favorite pair of jeans are my size 8 Tommy Hilfigure's since I love the way it shows off my 31 pounds of weight loss. My favorite foods are chocolate, ice cream and steak, though right now I love chili and roasted marshmellows. I am not a fan of cooking though I love to grill out (I make a fantastic grilled meditteranean chicken). I am a Parrothead, and my lifelong dream has been to meet Jimmy Buffett in person one day. I don't have a single MP3 CD in my truck that doesn't have at least 10 of his songs on it.

I'm also a hopeless romantic. I'm a great fan of Jane Austen and Kate Chopin. I enjoy writing short stories and poetry and listening to love songs on the radio or watching sappy movies on TV. I'm content to sit for hours on the north beach jetties, listening to the waves under the starlight or driving around town with the windows rolled down and wind whipping my hair around listening to my favorite soundtrack.

I also love to learn. If I had my way, I'd be in school again right now. I already have my sights set on my Humane Educator certification in 2009, and possibly a masters degree in public relations. It's not uncommon to find me late at night strolling around Barnes and Nobel breaking the bank with new finds.

On the education topic, I'm also a huge computer geek. It's not uncommon to find me online very late at night working on a project or website or just reading to see what else is out there. While I can troubleshoot lots of things, working on computers outside my home is not something I enjoy. There's a reason I don't work at Best Buy.

I am an incredibly dedicated person, not just to my passions, but to my friends. Since I take time to get to know folks before I trust them, there is very little to sway that trust once it is earned. I have driven across state lines late at night to be with someone who needed me, and on more than one occasion, I've left my comfy and snuggly bed to give someone a ride home from River Street. There is very little I won't do for those I care about anytime I'm asked.

But even greater than all this is my desire to be a mom one day. I've been teased about having lots of practice with the pets, and often times I think there is just no way I could handle a child as frustrated as I get with certain dogs at the ranch. But there's just something in me as I've gotten older that has the desire to share my loves of life with offspring.

So maybe there's something to Shrek's theory about onions and layers, though like Donkey, I much prefer a parfait from Dairy Queen.

Celebrate the Holidays Safely with Your Pets

It’s a season of giving, but giving too much can be hazardous for your pets.

While you sit with your family at the dinner table, it’s not uncommon to want to give in to those sad puppy eyes staring at you from their bland food bowl.

But sharing food from the dinner table is not the proper treat. Many holiday foods can actually be toxic to pets or cause great illness. Some foods to avoid include turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, yams, stuffing, tomatoes, bread dough, mushrooms, grapes, raisins, raw eggs, anything with onions or garlic, milk, chocolate, caffeine, and alcoholic beverages. Avoid the temptation to give pets bones as cooked bones splinter easily and can cause choking.

If you want your pet to feel included, purchase food items specifically for them from local pet specialty stores. And remember to wrap and store leftovers immediately after dinner. There is very little to stop a determined pet who has been eying your turkey for most of the day.

In addition to food, families should be cautious of hazardous items around their home, including lit candles, potpourri, wrapping paper and ornaments. It is especially critical to keep poinsettias out of reach as they are very toxic to pets.

If you have a concern about something your pet may have ingested, you can call the Pet Poison Helpline at 800.213.6680. If your pet is showing signs of distress, call your veterinarian or the Veterinary Emergency and Specialty Referral Center at 912.356.6113.


(originally posted Nov. 12, 2007 on SavannahPets.org)

A Victory to Keep Going

I had another fabulous trip to an area ER last Thursday for chest pains again. It's been a couple years since it happened. I thought I had done better about managing stress, but the last couple of weeks have really taken a toll on me.

We spent a lot of months with little adoptions and few donations. But things are looking up. We've had six adoptions over the weekend and a few more scheduled. Our big Yappy Hour event is this coming Saturday, and we're hopeful this will raise enough to pay off our vet bills.

I was finally starting to get my numbers down at the house. But on the way to the Yappy Hour planning meeting, I saw a mom and her two puppies in a yard. The trailer was a little run down, and mom and her babies were really close to the road. I slowed down, trying to be subtle and as to make sure the person following me didn't hit me. I argued with myself, do I stop or not? I had already rescued Cora from just a short way down the road. It's not unusual to see the dogs running back and forth, scaveging for food. I decided to keep going though and that if I saw them on the way back, I would stop for them.

A couple hours later, I was on the way back home. I almost thought of going a different way. I was pressed for time to meet a potential adopter. But I went along, and sure enough, there was mom with the two babies once again. Two vehicles were in the yard this time and a male was standing out in the yard with them, just watching, not interacting at all. Fear overcame me and I drove past. Despite what people might think, I'm really a very passive person and I hate confrontation. But the thought of the skinny mom trying to take care of those babies as the weather gets colder was enough to make me turn around and try.

I was amazed at how calm I was. It almost felt like someone else was speaking for me. I was incredibly diplomatic and asked to see the puppies. The young man said I could have them, that all her puppies were free because she just "keeps dropping them." I learned that this was not her first litter at all and that there were more puppies, but they were all gone. I wanted to take mom, to put an end to the cycle and give her a better chance. I could already see the puppies had wormy bellies and were full of fleas. They were eating wet adult food, not even puppy food. I decided to give the kid my card and tell him if they decided they wanted mom to go live somewhere else, I would take her. Honestly, I didn't know where I would put her, but it would have to be a better life than what she had going on.

I drove home with the two puppies. The smell filled my car so quickly on the short drive. I was eager to get them bathed, but as soon as I started, the potential adopter showed. I introduced him to his potential pup and took to the bath. The poor babies were covered in fleas and dirt, the water ran nearly black. Each puppy cried, completely unsure of what was going on. I dried them off and put them in a crate together along with puppy food and water. They dove into the food dish almost as if they had never seen food before. It broke my heart. The potential adopter left, and I sat back watching the puppies, wondering just how many more of them there might have been and where they are now. About 30 minutes later, the young man called and told me I could come get the mom. I sprinted out the door, down the street and was welcomed so warmly by his mom who was eager to sign the papers to get the dog out of her place.

I see so many dogs that come in and are so eager for attention. We put so much work into them to give them a better life that they usually leave much different than their arrival. As I sat alone in the ER last week, I had thought that my time had come to walk away from rescue, that I had done the best I could with what I had. But despite the defeats, I found a lot of victories this weekend. And that's what I ended up naming my newest momma dog, Victory, as a reminder to me that while not every battle is won, we are making a lot of progress.

Feeling Indifferent on Election Day

I'll be honest, I thought about skipping out on voting. I was so completely turned off by all the political ads, the bs "he said, she said" back and forth, and the fact that no choice seems to match anything close to the values and lifestyle I lead. I can't help but feel that I'm not alone, that many others out there also feel indifferent about voting. I no longer see candidates who actually represent their constituents. McCain has how many houses and I have to work how many jobs to pay for my one? Obama wants to give more to people who don't make as much but then I might get to keep less of what I've earned for myself. I want someone in office who lives similarly to me, paycheck to paycheck, that really understands my situation and will work to make things better. But instead, we've made our elections process something in which only people who are fiscally well-off can participate. I don't want to see ads about how this candidate or that understands where I come from. I don't remember reading about McCain working with his family since he was a child helping to make ends meet and learning that Santa can't grant every wish at Christmas or that you can't just go to the mall and get whatever you want when you want. And how many winters did Obama spend without heat or hot water? Give me a candidate that has done the best and made something positive of themselves with what little they were given and then I'll give a darn enough to vote.

And that's just national elections. The local ones aren't much better. People running for office have been unresponsive to my requests for help for a very long time, and one candidate, whom I've known since 8th grade, still cannot remember my name anytime he sees me in public even though he's presented me with two national awards in my life. However, when I'm out with my parents, who are big campaign contributors each election, I at least get greeted with a smile and a handshake.

I guess it's a good thing that I have a mom who still cares about and believes in the system. Between her nagging and the offers from Krispy Kreme and Ben and Jerry's, I'm actually going to make it to the polls today.

Why I Have No Faith in Doctors

I've long not been a fan of doctors, but in recent years, I've become even less and less enchanted with them. I'm not uninsured. I have insurance, I just can't ever use it. Why? Because no doctors are ever available.

For two years now I have been unable to get an appointment with the woman who is supposed to be my GP. If I'm sick and call, I have to wait two weeks for them to work me in, and that's only if I get the right key combination through their automated answering service. Earlier this year, they changed phone numbers and moved. Did I get a notice? Nope. I had to do a Google search, and finally on page 7 of the search results came up with the right number. I decided to try this morning one last time to get in to see this woman. So I called the number and entered what would be the magic combination to get a human to answer. I waited and waited and waited some more before being addressed very curtly by the "operator." I told her I was a current patient, which would have been true if they would have granted any of my appointments in the last two years, but that I needed to be seen this week. I told her what for and that I needed to get shots (a couple of things you should have when working with animals as much as I do) only to be told that they don't do immunizations in their office. Then she hung up on me. Back to the drawing board.

I finally found my insurance card and decided to check online for approved providers. I pulled out three names and called. One doctor said they were accepting new patients but didn't have appointments available for them until January. Two others I got lost in their automated menus and gave up.

I guess I could go to the immediate med place, except that once I'm there, I have to pay a much higher co-pay which leaves me nothing to get whatever meds I might need after the visit and then have to pay another bill a month later when I discover my insurance didn't cover everything. But I will say that on my various trips to them, I've always had exceptional customer service with the nurses and doctors in attendance. So kudos to them.

So it seems to me I have a different health care crisis to deal with. I have insurance, but can't use it because no doctors are available. So why do I even have it? It's taking a huge chunk of my paycheck every month for absolutely nothing. I would be better served putting that money towards my student loans or house payment.

The State of Our Education System

Let me preface this by saying this has nothing (well, very little) to do with animal rescue, but something that has been on my mind quite a bit in recent months.

I've been reading message boards lately. It seems discipline is a huge issue in our schools. I would agree. I grew up deathly afraid of my parents, grandparents, nuns at my schools, and of course, God. Growing up on Tybee was even worse. If I did anything outside the home, there was no hesitation to tell my parents. I remember running a yellow light on my way home from soccer practice and being scolded later that evening because someone told my mom.

Each year, I conduct humane education programs at various elementary and middle schools in our area. Having spent 12 years in Catholic schools throughout childhood, I am still surprised at the major differences I see when I enter a classroom.

There is a great debate on a message board about paddling in schools. I'm of the mindset that the schools do not exist to discipline, that is a parent's job. However, from what I've seen firsthand in some of the classrooms I've visited, quite a few parents are failing at their job. It's no wonder there is a high turnover rate for teaching positions. I know there is no way I could ever be at most of these schools every day. It's hard enough to tolerate for an hour at a time sometimes.

Two years ago, I attended career day at Largo Tibet Elementary. The first class I spoke with was exceptional, but it went down from there. By the fourth class, students were telling me stories about how their dads or older brothers beat their dogs to train them or how they have puppies for sale regularly. I was so shell-shocked when I left the classroom, especially since the teacher just sat in the back grading papers, apparently thankful to have a babysitter. One of our adoption coordinators was a guidance counselor there at the time and I had to just sit in her office a few minutes to recover.

But then there are other schools that I visit that are on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. I remember the first time I visited with Jacob G. Smith Elementary School nearly four years ago. I walked in with a dog and rather than screams and kids clambering about while a teacher shouted for control, every child remained in their desk and waited politely for their turn to meet my companion. I visit at this school at least once a year and with various grades. It's one of my favorites places to teach each year.

So why are there such differences between these schools if they are run by the same system and have the same hiring practices for educators and staff? I maintain that the problem starts at home. We can't expect teachers to be educators and parents. Yes, I had several teachers growing up that helped shape me into the young woman I am today. They challenged me, or gave encouraging thoughts, or did something to help push me forward and make something of myself. But it was never their job to be my disciplinarian or psychologist.

I honestly don't know the solution to the problem. We argued it a good long while at our Leadership Savannah retreat a few weeks ago. Everyone seems to have their own ideas. I guess we just sit back and hope one day that someone figures out something.

Furminator to the Rescue

So earlier this week, we got an early Christmas gift: a donated Furminator. For those of you not familiar with the tool, it's to help get out loose hair from your pets to reduce the shedding around your home. We applied to the company to get one after the arrival of Teddy the Malamute who was just covered in mats. So here's how the test went tonight:

Teddy: hates it. It could be that just his personality does not permit him to sit still longer than two seconds, but definitely not worth the hassle with him. We'll be calling on Hoof and Woof next week to take care of that bad boy.

Vienna, 8-year-old 38-pound pug/black lab mix: mixed reviews. She liked it for a little while, but then got tired of the brushing. I was astounded at how much fur came off this girl. She's got such incredibly short hair, you would never think so much is just sitting on her. But we both really liked how much shinier her coat now appears. Since she's going to be on TV tomorrow morning (very early), I feel better about how she will look. Perhaps her new shine will get her a new home.

DaVinci, 3-year-old Rottweiler/Malamute mix: Loved it, or maybe it's just the attention he loves. He hasn't been to the groomer in two months, and it showed. We filled an entire grocery bag and then some with his sheddings.

Hannah, 1.5-year-old Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever: Liked it just fine. Of all the dogs, she tolerated the brushing the best, but that's probably her nature. Hannah remained perfectly still and never balked once at the brushing. We filled a small trash can in my office with her sheddings.

Hemingway, 10-month-old Malamute mix: Hated it, but really, it's probably his puppy ADD that is the problem. I gave up after about 10 minutes of trying. I'll have to get him his own appointment for grooming soon.

So, that's how the dogs fared. Here are my thoughts:

1. The handle needs to be longer. Granted, most people won't be brushing for two hours or longer like I have to do for multiple pets, but my hands still hurt right now. The constant motion I have to use to get the fur real well hurt my wrist a bit.

2. I did not anticipate how much of the fur would stick to myself. I got up off the floor and my red scrubs were covered in black and white fur. The static from the fur also was sticking to the dogs, so I was having to run my hands over them to grab the loose stuff. Given the amount of fur left on my floor and the amount which I inhaled, I almost wonder if this might be a chore better suited for the outdoors.

While the dogs' coats (those that allowed the full grooming) do look better, I really have no way to tell if it helps with the shedding around the house. If there were ever a fur donation program for hairless pets, we could outfit an army of them from what I sweep up every day.

Internet Pet Adoptions: Love at First Sight

One of the questions I'm always asked is how to you get your pets adopted? Since we are an all-volunteer organization without a physical shelter, we rely on our website to promote our pets. We also list them on other pet websites such as Petfinder.com and similar sites. A good 90% of our adoptions come from these websites.

Can someone really just see a picture and have to have that pet? Yes they can. We've had adopters fly from Maine, Boston and Kentucky to get our pets and many drive up from Florida, down from North Georgia or over from South Carolina. We do not ship them, so adopters are told up front that they must come meet with us and the pet in person to complete the adoption. It's hard to believe that someone would go through all that for a simple picture they saw online, but it's what we count on. I had a reminder of that today.

Last week, we sent out our monthly newsletter in which we always feature a pet. We've decided to feature special needs pets and call it "Help Me Heal," where we provide the photo and information about the pet's special needs and a call for donations. Today, I received the following email from Cathi Denham, owner of At Home Pet Sitters and a yearly sponsor for Coastal Pet Rescue:

"I never really got how someone could look at a dogs picture and fall in
love enough to adopt him or her. Then I saw Herbie's picture and since I can't
adopt him, I can help him to become healthy. Hopefully the bio and link in
my newsletter will get enough donations to cover all of his treatment."

Help from people like Cathi is what we need the most. In Herbie's case, his medical care, when it is all said and done, should be about $800. So while he waits for an adopter to pick him, it's people like Cathi that will ensure he gets the medical care he needs to be around for a lifetime of love.

So take a minute to browse our adoptable pets. You may just find yourself falling in love at first sight.

The Dangers of Cutting Corners for Your Pets

It's no secret the economy has us all making sacrifices. For most families, having a pet is a luxury that can become costly overtime. When it's time to tighten the wallet, we might decide to change our pet's food to a slightly lower brand and even make cuts for routine veterinary care and flea or heartworm preventative. The bad news is that doing so may cost you more in the long run.

Pet's digestive systems are really very sensitive. Changing their food can cause loose or runny stool or maybe worse. Some pets have allergies to ingredients or food dyes in certain foods. If you are looking to reduce your costs, having to make emergency runs to your vet due to a reaction to food will not help.

The same goes for flea treatments. I can't stress enough how important it is to follow your vet's recommendations. There are reasons these products can only be bought at your vet's office. Some pets have bad reactions to certain products. If you think purchasing a cheaper product at Wal-Mart is going to make a difference, guess again. Thousands of pet parents have posted their horror stories at HartzVictims.org. There have been multiple lawsuits against the company over the years, and EPA even forced them to remove one of their products for cats.

I can't stress enough the importance of monthly heartworm preventative. This year already we have treated 12 dogs for heartworms and three more are waiting for us to get the funds so they may be treated. This is the most easily preventable parasite. A six month supply will cost around $60 depending on the size of your dog. One treatment to kill the heartworm infection may cost you $600. Just last month, we took a dog from a couple who admitted they hadn't given a heartworm pill to in a few months. We had to immediately have her tested. We were lucky she was negative, but it was probably due to the fact that her coat was rather matted so the mosquitos couldn't get through. Again, this is something you can get only from your vet, and that's a good thing. Certain breeds actually carry a high sensitivity to the ingredients in certain heartworm medications. Collies in particular should not be given anything that is ivermectin-based as it could actually be fatal to the dog.

So where can you cut corners with your pets? Well, obviously my answer is that you shouldn't. Instead, curb your Starbucks or fast food habits and put that money away for your pet's care. I know it hasn't been easy for me to give up my daily ice cream habit, but sometimes, you have to give up the instant gratification for long-term happiness. Your pets give so much to you unconditionally, is it really so much for you to give a little to them?

Don't Make Me Adopt You to Jesus

I remember growing up hearing the phrase "I gave you life, I can take it away" from TV parents. Although my parents never said those exact words to me, I'm sure there were thoughts similar to those that entered their minds from time to time.

Over the last few months, I have found myself uttering a similar phrase for a couple of my extra special furballs of joy. For the most part, I love what I do. I love the dogs being here, watching them heal and evolve. But there are just a few that love to push boundaries and try my patience as much as possible.

This morning, I had to get up at 4 am to appear on the WJCL and FOX 28 morning shows. This requires me getting up extra early to take all the dogs out, give them a small snack to appease them until I return at breakfast time, as well as actually do some makeup and something with my hair. Today, I donned my pirate costume to promote our event with the Tybee Island Pirate Fest this weekend. So I went through the process, got everyone ready, or so I thought. I did the headcount in the house and found that someone was missing. I went back out, and there was Hope in the yard, tossing a toy she had found up in the air and catching it then tossing it again. I was so proud watching her finally play. But here it was, just after 5 am and time for me to load up Junior and head to the TV studio. But at that same moment in time, Hope developed amnesia to her name and proceeded to play her new game all around the full half acre of our fenced in yard. I conceded and closed her in the big play yard and proceeded back to the house to leave.

After our show, I had to pick up a dog that was being returned. Returns are never easy, but it's even harder when the dog you are picking up was adopted out as a cute, bouncy puppy. Everyone wants cute puppies, very few want larger, grown dogs. And as it turns out, this one has never heard of the word discipline. Within a couple of hours of being here, she tore apart some chainlink, dug a nearly three-foot wide hole, and refused to obey any commands. She is all puppy all the time, and I am seriously going to have my work cut out for me if I'm ever going to find her another home.

So every day, I wear my St. Francis of Assisi medallion around my neck and hold it tight, finding the strength I need to bring out the best in these pets.

The Angels Among Us

Years back, Alabama came out with a beautiful song titled "Angels Among Us." Having lost all my grandparents in my teen years, I often clung to that song and the belief that my grandparents were still with me, helping guide me through some of the rough times.

More recently, that song has come back to mind as I've discovered helping hands around me. I realized it mostly tonight after a long conversation with my mom. She finally admitted that she has been worried about me, primarily that I don't take enough time for myself. I admitted to her that it hasn't been easy, but that I've never been happier. Yes, cleaning up kennels and poop, feeding and medicating muliple dogs everyday is a lot of work, and I don't always like the 5 am wake up calls (4 am on media days), but it is the life I have chosen for myself and not one I'm looking to give up.

So during our conversation, I reassured her that it was ok, things were starting to look better. Last week, a Sarah Wright of Right Touch Cleaning donated her cleaning services. What a treat it was to walk in from work (yes, I work a real job) and smell a clean house and be able to see the counters. I was actually able to walk from the front door to the dog area without tripping over food boxes, leashes or whatever event materials I was too tired to put away. I've never had a cleaning service before, but I tell you, when I win the lottery, I will definitely have Sarah back!

Yesterday, my surrogate big sister and I attended a workshop in Charleston. We are now certified disaster response volunteers for United Animal Nation. But since our instructor was so amazing and got us out of the workshop two hours early, big sis suggested we hang out and enjoy the town a little bit. We had sitters for the pups, and we never get to just hang out together anymore because of so many commitments. So we took to the marketplace, browsing here and there. Big Sis indulged my Parrothead pilgrimage through Margaritaville, and I kept my hands to myself as we went into all the finer places she loves to shop. We attempted to have dinner at a 4th generation family-owned seafood place, but after not getting any service, we headed down to Bubba Gumps and had fabulous service. But the best part of the whole trip was the ride up and back, reconnecting as "sisters," talking about our thoughts and frustrations and just getting close again. She's been my cheerleader for the last year and a half, seeing me through challenges and lifting me up when I needed the boost. It felt great to be able to spend time with her again.

But today, I welcomed 21 angels to the ranch. A local Junior Girl Scout troop came out to volunteer their time towards the earning of their Bronze Award. A former Girl Scout myself (and Silver Award holder), I was more than happy to have them visit with us. The girls were not afraid of anything; they got down and dirty, taking on a job that I normally have to do on my own. But what astounded me was as they finished, they kept coming to ask me what more they could do. The ended up bathing all the dogs, which I always see as such a chore but they found incredibly delightful, actually fussing to get time with the suds and water. I watched these 9 and 10-year-olds show such pride in their work and find such joy in helping animals. It really gives me hope that the future will be much better for animal welfare.

I had one more angel join me today. My buddy Gary from Daniel Lumber came back out to help repair the chainlink a few dogs had torn apart. Gary has been an angel to me since January when we met at the Home and Garden Expo. He came out and realized what was going on out here and how little space I had for myself. He gave up two vacation days of his own to put in a divinging fence and give me a little outdoor space to relax. I honestly was taken aback by his selflessness as it is not something I've seen much of in this work.

I don't think it takes an extraordinary act to make someone an angel. Often times, it's the little things someone gives of themselves that make the biggest difference.

Where's My Bailout Plan?

I'd really like a bailout plan to finance all the pets that keep getting dumped at my house. But I'm sure I'm not alone. Most non-profits are feeling a big pinch in donations this year. For me personally, I've given up my Starbucks habit and curbed my trips to Tybee to conserve gas. I've been very good all along of making sure not to leave lights on when they aren't needed, but that doesn't seem to have made a difference on my electric bill. I still haven't replaced a lot of things on my truck either, such as the antenna that broke off during a puppy transport or the wheel caps that were stolen one night while I was at a performance downtown.

But I guess we all learn what we can and cannot be without. When I was younger, we lived on our boat since we didn't have a house. To most people, that would be awesome. But my bedroom was one side of a V-birth. There was no heat, no a/c, and no hot water and most of all, no doors except to the bathroom. But my fondest memories are of sitting on top of the boat late at night, watching the stars and listening to the creek rush by. I often slept outside because it was more soothing. I would get up in the mornings and eat my pop tarts on the dock while watching the dolphins play before going to school. My dad had a 1972 Volkswagon Thing. We'd load up our two dogs and head down to St. Michael's, never going more than 25 MPH. I can remember clearly the smell of the salt air and how big I would smile with the wind wrapping my hair around me. We didn't have much back then, but my dad made the best of it for us all.

Looking around me now, it seems I'm doing just fine. I just have to keep reminding myself that once upon a time, things seemed incredibly tough and comfort hard to find. But it really wasn't that bad after all. One day, I hope to look back on my life now and say the same thing.

Announcing the Launch of PetFriendlyTybee.com

Have you ever wondered where you can take your pet and have some fun? Two weeks ago, I got together with Southern Images Photography to launch an online directory of pet-friendly establishments around the Savannah area. The first site launched features Tybee information, particularly reviews of the dog parks, two restaurants, and the RV park. The site is in its infancy and suggestions are welcome. Each establishment has been evaluated by a CPR rescued pet. Take a look around to see how you and your pup can enjoy a day on the island.

http://www.petfriendlytybee.com

Cora's Big Day Out & Hope's Major Milestone

On Saturday, Cora and I met up with a friend of mine and his dog Jake, a purebreed Blue Heeler, to check out some pet-friendly places out on Tybee Island. This was Cora's first big outing, and her last for awhile as she was admitted to the vet's office this morning to start her heartworm treatment. What was amazing to me was to see just how much this dog had attached herself to me, her rescuer. At one point, I left Cora alone with my buddy and Jake in the small dog park while I ran back to the car to get something. Not even a minute later, Cora was right on my heels. We haven't figured out if she jumped the fence or ran under it (it's not secure at all), but as soon as I turned around she jumped up at me as if to say "Why did you leave me?" And the rest of the day, I made sure never to be out of her sight. But I found out just what a velcro dog she is when we went to dinner at The Crab Shack. I got up to wash my hands, maybe 10 feet from our table, still in eye sight, and be darned if she didn't come right after me, dragging my chair behind her! We finished the day with doggy ice cream at Sonic, and the little darling slept all the way home, sitting in my front seat with her paws stretched across the console on to my legs.








Over the last few weeks, I've been working with Hope to slowly get her used to other dogs. Having lived her life on a chain, she is very defensive when they come near her. A few days ago, she was out in the small yard with Hannah and seemed fine, not a single growl. Today after I got home and let all the dogs out for playtime, Hope ran to the door and started scratching to go out as well. Normally, she hangs out in the office with me, cuddled with her favorite stuffed animal. I was like a nervous mom watching her child go off on her first day of school. I opened the gate and let Hope out, nervous about what might happen, if the other dogs would be nice. She pranced all around the yard, jumped around the empty pool, over one of the dog houses, and behind each of the pens. She stayed out for about an hour, no incidents. I came back out to check on her and she was at the gate, waiting to come back in the house. She just found a place and curled up, ignoring the other dogs. I feel like we've hit a major milestone with her, and I couldn't be prouder!

It's watching dogs like Cora and Hope that remind me just what patience can do for a pet. Just giving a little of your time and love here and there really can change their lives.

Special Needs Pups - My Martian Children

This afternoon, I caught a movie I hadn't seen before on HBO called "Martian Child." I'm a huge fan of John Cusack and have his autograph in my senior yearbook since our school was smack dab in the middle of the set for The Movie. Anyhow, I kept it on while I was working and found myself really relating to the whole plot.

Basically, Cusack's character decides to adopt a special child, Dennis, that has been abandoned by his parents. As his way of coping, Dennis tells everyone he is from Mars and that he is here just for a mission. He speaks his own language, has his own way of dressing and doing things, and doesn't socialize well with other children. Cusack grows to love Dennis despite everyone else telling him that Dennis may be too much for him and his sister even tries to convince him to give Dennis back. But Cusack stands firm and convinces Dennis of his love and unconditional understanding. It's pretty much the way I feel about our special needs pets.

Right now, I am fostering five special needs pets. It's like a science fair experiment as they never tell us up front what is wrong, we find out along the way. We just give what we have and hope for the best. Sometimes, they sit with us for a long time, waiting for someone else to come along that will see what we see, but in the world of animal adoption, it's not always easy for people to see past the superficial, which hurts me sometimes.

Those who see Hope today for the first time would never understand her transformation in the last two months. A dog, left abandoned on a chain, no one to care for her, had absolutely no reason to accept the kindness of a human without question. Yet as we cleaned her wound daily, left behind after the chain was removed, we found it hard to keep her still from the constant kisses she was giving. Today, her wound is completely healed and her fur has grown over most of the scars. She prances in and out of the house, happily taking jaunts around the yard then immediately back in for some good lap cuddling time. I could swear she smiles at us, thanking us every day for giving her a dry, clean place to stay, good nutrition, and constant praise for being the good girl no one ever noticed before. Now all that is left is for someone else to look in her eyes and see all the love and adventure she has to offer.

So here I sit, typing away, my little Martian child snoring with her favorite stuffed animal. She's safe and loved. I guess that makes it a pretty good day.

Gas... Who Isn't Ticked?

Last night, I had two phone calls from people in SC urging me to fuel up. I needed to run to Wally world for posterboard anyhow, so I stopped and got gas. I think it was $3.53. I couldn't be glad enough that I did.

When I finally left the house this evening, it was $3.89 with cars five and six deep. I drove into town, passing the first Enmark by Savannah Mall... I couldn't believe it: $4.39. What in the world? What was even worse was as I got closer to my destination and found the El Cheapo on Montgomery Crossroad at $4.69. I think their sign should be shot down.

It's been hard enough on me making ends meet month to month. I even work a part-time job on the weekends to make up for the lack in my regular paycheck. But now, I'm actually losing money trying to go to work (let's remember that I do NOT get paid for doing the rescue; it is all volunteer). I had already been doing well with conserving my driving this summer to just what is necessary, no longer taking joy rides down to Barnes and Noble for a book and frappucino.

We are participating in a big event tomorrow, GreenFest, and now I worry the attendance will be low due to people trying to stay home. I can't say I blame them, but when we have been struggling so much for donations this year, and adoptions have dwindled incredibly since spring, what kind of hope does that leave us to keep helping those in our programs? Just how many more hits can we keep taking?

But while I'm on the subject, I need to give a big thank you to a young lady who donated two hours of her cleaning service to help me out yesterday. Sarah Wright of The Right Touch Cleaning Service answered one of my prayers last week. I spent most all day in bed yesterday, covered by pillows, with a bad migraine. Sarah came and cleaned up after the dogs for me, something I had not had the time to do in the last two weeks. It was so nice to walk in the house tonight and smell cleanliness as opposed to dirty, wet dog. So, while we may be struggling, it is nice that others can take time out to help us in ways that mean so much. So thank you, Sarah, for being so giving.

What Else Would I Be Doing?

I had that question asked of me last week, and it's been on my mind.

I'll admit, on rough days, I think about how I could be living on the water and driving a convertible with all the money I would have saved from not running an animal rescue. My 8th grade yearbook says I wanted to be a dolphin trainer when I grew up, and I originally went to college to become a journalist. I fell into web design as a geek and under peer pressure from my honors classmates. I've always held Jimmy Buffett as my idol, and I dream of visiting all 50 states at least once. I'd like to go for my captain's license finally, finish getting a master's degree, teach again, and fall in love. I still toy with the idea of skydiving, though I think I might stick to just parasailing for now.

Last week, we moved my dining room furniture out to make more room for crates for our special needs pets that need confinement and rest. But during the middle of the night, when I awoke to the crying sounds of a new rescue having a rough night, I realized I would like to have someone to look after me like that. There have been times in the past when I have slept in my truck to have more peace than I was getting at home. It's not their fault, I know that, but there are times I just want to be a little selfish. I have gotten accustomed to being home early to give meds and last time outs for potty, which means my social life pretty much ends by 9 pm. Thus my Internet addiction, what would I do without MySpace and Facebook?

I know this is where I'm supposed to be for now. Hope is sleeping snuggly in her crate with her two stuffed animals nestled beneath her, never to have to be chained again. Little Ike is sleeping peacefully in a dry, soft, comfy bed with a full tummy, probably the first he's known in many years. Herbie is no longer coughing, Lady is no longer scratching at her matted fur, Cora is no longer dodging traffic, Kuma no longer has to be a mom, and Junior, well, he's not happy being in a crate but at least he won't have to have his leg amputated for lack of care. Things are looking up for all of them, it would just be nice to have a fairy Godmother to send me a maid, a landscaper, a cook, and some flowers once in awhile.

Though I don't foresee a time soon that I won't be doing animal rescue, I'm very hopeful that our volunteer and support base will increase so I could start to take a little bit more "me" time once in awhile. Maybe I'll even make my dream of meeting my idol come true, if the darn hurricanes will leave anything of Key West for the rest of us.

Hanna: A Warning to Us All

I don't know about everyone else, but for the last week I feel like I've been on a roller coaster with Hanna. Will she affect us or won't she? It still seems to not be a clear answer. We've been working hard to ensure the safety of our pets and the continuation of our program. Which brings me to the subject of this post: are YOUR pets ready?

Downloads Now Available
Yesterday, we updated our "Hurricane Planning for Pets" page on CoastalPetRescue.org. We now have a packing checklist and animal identification form available for download. Additionally, we've added some links you may want to keep handy as we watch next week to see what Ike will do.

Purchase a Pet First Aid Kit
Thanks to our partnership with the Savannah Chapter of the Red Cross, we have a limited supply of pet first aid kits available for sale. This can be a valuable asset if anything happens with your pets during a storm or evacuation.

Pet Identification and Microchips
Do you have proper identification for your pets? Check now to make sure your pets have a properly-fitted collar with identification tag. Instead of your pet's name, put two phone numbers on the tag. If your pet is microchipped, take the time now to make sure the microchip registry has the most current contact information for you. 24PetWatch offers free registration of all chips through their online registry. If you have had your pet chipped through one of our low-cost clinics, you can refer to your yellow registration copy to get your ID number and register your pet online or update your information.

Where Can You Go?
If an evacuation is ordered, pet shelter openings will be announced by emergency management officials. However, you should consider asking friends or family where you will be staying first if your pet can come with you. If so, plan to take a crate for them to stay in so as to not impose upon your hosts. If not, start looking now for boarding kennels or veterinary offices where you will be going to have you pet boarded nearby. Additionally, make sure you have the name, address and phone number of the nearest veterinarian in the event your pet needs care during the evacuation.

When traveling with your pet, it is important that all vaccinations are current. Make sure to have copies of all medical records from your current veterinarian. Georgia State Law regulates that all pets, dogs and cats, have a yearly rabies vaccination. If you are taking your pet to an emergency shelter, your pet will not be admitted without proof of current vaccinations. Additionally, boarding facilities usually require the bordetella vaccine to protect against kennel cough. If your pet does not travel well, talk to your veterinarian about your options to make their trip less stressful.

Please, don't even think of leaving without your pets. Our animals are too domesticated and may not survive through a storm. Many pets found in the days after Hurricane Katrina were loaded with parasites, worms and heartworm disease from drinking bad water and living in filth. Do not leave your pets chained outside either as they could drown in flooding or suffocate trying to seek shelter.



While we may be breathing a little easier today than earlier this week, we are not out of hurricane season yet. Please take the time now to reduce your stress level. Hanna gave us a good warning that anything can happen, so plan now.

Get the latest in tropical developments online at Coastalstorms.com

WalMart: Low Prices, Low Compassion During Hurricane Preparations

I spent my Labor Day making arrangements for our rescued pets, ensuring their safety and few hassles for foster parents needing to take care of their own families. So, I braved a trip to WalMart to stock up on dog food, chewies, water, and an 8-pack of paper towels. It was only as I was putting everything away that I realized I left the paper towels.

On the way home from work today, I stopped and took my receipt in to the customer non-service desk and explained the situation. After looking in "the book," the rep said there wasn't anything she could do because it wasn't listed in the book. I asked to speak with a manager. After hollering "Kathy" multiple times with no one answering her call, the rep finally walked off and got "Kathy." I was not greeted with a smile or "how can I help you?" as you see on the TV commercials (maybe she gets paid much less than those actors, who knows?). Instead, I got a "you need somethin'," said with great impatience. I explained the situation to her again. She looked again in "the book," and said there was nothing she could do. I explained that these were storm supplies for our animal rescue. Her response? "It's not our liability." Nice. What great compassion to show during the first tropical storm threat to our area since Hurricane Floyd.

I know my boycott of them (I even passed up the $3.49 gas) won't do much of anything, but it makes me feel a little better. At least Kroger is just up the road. I guess I'll be seeing them a little later tonight.

Hurricane Season is in Full Swing... Are You Prepared?

It seems like we just got through wondering about Fay, now we have Hanna, Ike and Josephine out in the Atlantic. It doesn't look like we'll have a boring September, to say the least.

Chatham Emergency Management Agency has started issuing releases regarding Hurricane Hanna and her impact on coastal Georgia. At this time, CEMA is in Operating Condition (OPCON) 4, the Monitoring Phase as defined by the Georgia Emergency Management Agency. OPCON 4 is the first stage in advanced readiness. What this means to the rest of us is to start taking inventory of our hurricane storm plans. Some actions you can take:

• Monitor local media for updates
  
• Make sure your gas tank is full
  
• Secure important documents in a water-proof container and have in one place
  
• Take photos and videos of your home, possessions, and anything else you might need for insurance purposes
  
• Check that you have plenty of water and non-perishable food
  
• Check and replenish first aid supplies
  
• Make sure you have immediate access to flashlights and battery-powered radio and extra batteries
  
• Secure outdoor lawn furniture and loose objects
  
• Have cash on hand to use if power is out
  

I spent most of yesterday making arrangements to move pets from our rescue further inland. I can't tell you how difficult that was to try and get boarding set up. One kennel said no, another told us they would call us Wednesday afternoon if they hadn't already booked everything else. As a rescue reliant upon foster homes, I don't have the luxury of waiting until an hour or two before a storm hits to make decisions. I have to account for our pets so our foster parents can take care of their own families.

Presently, I am anticipating riding out the storm unless given an order to leave. I have my gas tank filled, extra cash on hand, checked my first aid supplies, bought extra bags of dog food and gallons of water yesterday, stocked up on non-perishable food for myself, and bought extra batteries for my flashlights. I even went and purchased an American Red Cross AM/FM/Weather radio that also has a cell phone charger to make things a little easier when power goes out. Now all that's left for me to do is to teach at least one of the dogs to play cards so we have something to do.

In all honesty, we too often take for granted a storm is going to miss us. With hurricanes, their paths are a best guess by meterologists and their computers, and always just that: a guess. Mother Nature has been known to throw curve balls from time to time (remember the St. Patrick's blackout?), so it is better to prepare now than fall victim to her whims later.

For information on how you can prepare, visit our hurricane and evacuation information site, CoastalStorms.com.

No Type A on Tybee

I've been accused many a time of being type A+ personality. A couple years ago, my friend Karen that has a rescue across the river called me the "posterchild for Obsessive-Compulsive Over-Achievers of America." She's probably right; I do put a lot on myself to always do better and be better. But a lot of that slid by this summer.

Back in June, I started going to work for my parents at the marina on the weekends, something I hadn't done in many years. I had forgotten how much I loved being on the water and what a difference it makes for making me relax. I had the joy of meeting some new friends this summer that helped me remember how blessed I have been to have a life on the water. I took to late night fishing out in the Atlantic, sitting on the dock watching the tide change, and tonight, even a sunset parasail ride.

But as Labor Day draws my summer to a close, I have to say goodbye to these great new friends of mine. It is something I got accustomed to growing up on Tybee; people float in for the season and haul out at the end. It's still never easy, and you always feel a twinge of sadness at their leaving. But you remember the fun you had and hug your goodbyes, always extending the invitation to return another time.

For me, I wonder if this will be the end of my weekly reprieves. True, working seven days a week has been tiring, but I feel less tired at the end of my marina work days than I do during the week. Perhaps it is because I know that deep down, I belong there, that this life I created to change the world doesn't have to be the only life I know anymore. I guess time will tell. For now, I'll enjoy the final celebration of summer with fireworks, good friends and family, and look forward to not having to have a plan for everything everyday.

Special Needs Shouldn't be a Death Sentence for Pets

Recently, I made an appeal for financial help for four of our pets (now five) that are needing extra medical care before adoption. One person wrote me that we were wasting our funds instead of using the money to save more animals that are healthier. To me, that's incredibly insensitive and ignorant.

First off, we don't know the needs of a pet until we get them. Would it make a difference if in their holding cells at animal control they held up a sign that said "I'm going to cost you $2,000 in vet care"? No, and it shouldn't. An animal should not be given a death sentence because of ignorance or cruelty of their previous caretakers. How can I look at Hope who had already had extensive medical care and needs more to treat her heartworms and tell her that, although she survived several years of intense neglect that she costs us too much to continue living? I can't, just like we fight as hard as we can for the puppies we take that turn out to have parvovirus but may not always make it.

We are rescuers. We're compassionate and sometimes our hearts overrule our heads. My job is to make sure we don't go too far in debt so that we can keep up with the care of the pets already in our programs. But I also see these special needs pets as educational tools to the public. Several times I walked Hope at PetSmart or the vet and had people ask what happened to her neck, why did she have a lot of skin exposed. When I tell her story, you can see the shock in their faces. If nothing else, it makes me feel like they will remember her story and maybe be more considerate of pets in similar situations and take action rather than let them suffer.

Special Needs Pets Need a Little Help

We can all agree the economy right now is hard on everyone, but non-profits especially are feeling the pinch. At Coastal Pet Rescue, we're doing all we can to keep our services available to those in need, but we still need a little more support.

Coastal Pet Rescue currently has four dogs undergoing special and extensive medical care:

Hope


Hope is a very special dog. She was left behind when her family moved, and the landlord found her tied up in the yard on a chain. Sadly, she had spent so much time out there, the collar grew into her neck. The landlord left her at the Savannah Emergency Veterinary clinic. The techs fell in love with her and called Coastal Pet Rescue to take her. Hope was maintained on pain management and antibiotics and had her wound sutured before she was picked up by CPR.

Since her arrival to CPR, Hope was transferred to Georgetown Veterinary Hospital and her wound was re-opened to reduce complications in the healing process. She was boarded with GVH to receive ongoing, daily care for her wound and came home to her foster mom July 29.

Unfortunately, Hope also tested strong positive for heartworms. Given the severity and the issues surrounding her current state, Hope will be on Heartgard for three months before she can have her treatment. She will be under heartworm treatment for two months thereafter, at least. If everything goes right, Hope should be ready to be adopted between Christmas and New Year's.

Kuma


Kuma and her son, Kobi, were found wandering the streets. After two weeks of searching for an owner, they were turned over to Coastal Pet Rescue.

Kuma is a typical Golden Retriever, loves to give kisses and will follow you everywhere. She has gained weight and her fur is no longer coarse. However, she is heartworm positive. She has already received her first treatment. She will start her second treatment the first week of September.

Cora


She was found at a dump site during the rains of tropical storm Fay. Our president spent over a half hour gaining her trust to get her home to someplace dry with good food. Coastal Pet Rescue had her spayed and shots administered, however, it turns out she is also heartworm positive and will need treatment.

Junior


This sad little boy found his way to Chatham County Animal Control after being hit by a car and left at the emergency vet due to financial limitations of his family. Junior is getting around great right now, but is enjoying resting comfortably in his foster home and being nursed by his older foster sister. He is currently undergoing exams at Georgetown Animal Hospital to determine the extent of his injuries and the necessary medical treatment needed.

Please consider making a contribution towards their care. Even $10 can really add up for these pets.

Tropical Storm Fay Brings More than Just Wind and Rain to CPR

It seems like it has been forever since I've seen the sunshine. For me, that's devastating. I love being outdoors, and lately, I've been spending more of it back home on Tybee. But alas, it is hurricane season and Fay had to bring all she could to our area, which means my home has been filled with dogs frustrated because they can't go outside and play and the smell of wet puppy for the times I drag them out to go potty.

So today, I worked from home. I made an attempt to watch Transformers on HBO, but it kept getting interrupted by all the tornado warnings. Then around 2, my email popped open with a photo of a puppy... taken by one of our board members at animal control. Unfortunately for me, it wasn't the puppy she had gone there to see. After two phone calls, arrangements were made for her and another officer to bring over four new pups to our program. It's still pouring sheets of rain outside, but luckily enough another volunteer came over to prep the house for the new intakes: one matted adult poodle in desperate need of a good bath, one 10 week old black lab puppy, one five month old flat coated retriever puppy, and one dog with a busted leg. What a halfway house this has become.

A few hours later, everyone is settled, I'm finally out of my PJs (was sporting the lazy look today), showered and headed over for a home-cooked meal since Wendy owed me for the new intakes. Wouldn't you know it, on my way over, I spotted three dogs scrounging for food at the dump yard. It's still raining, and I feel awful for them, even though I knew they wouldn't come to me if I stopped. But I just couldn't keep driving. I turned around, pulled over and grabbed my cans of food out of the back of the truck. Two dogs ran off, but one little girl waddled over to me, tail down but wagging a little. She stopped just a foot in front of me, head down. I held out the can of food, which she tried to take and run. I kept ahold of it, stroking her head and telling her what a nice girl she was. Her body changed... stood up completely, and her tail started wagging as a happy dog should. It was then I noticed her belly... and had to figure out what in the world I would do with a pregnant dog at home. I stood up to look in the truck for a slip lead, but before I could, she ran across the street after one of the other dogs. My heart nearly stopped as she was almost hit by a car. I called to her, begged her to stay put, but she just kept running off. I got in the truck and followed her, keeping a lookout for other traffic. I pulled off to a side road ahead of her, got out, and called to her again. She was wagging her tail but didn't want to leave her companion. He ran across the street again, and she after him. Not to be outdone, I stayed, trying to coax her back safely. Another car was coming, I called to her to stay put, as if she would really understand me. The car saw me and stopped, probably more afraid of what the crazy person in the rain sitting on the side of the road might do. I ran across and she just rolled over on her back, half in the road. I grabbed her and pulled her to me just as another car was coming from the same direction. I waited for traffic to clear, scooped her up and ran back across, putting her in the truck. I hadn't even bothered to notice that I had slipped and twisted my knee again, the same one I tore my MCL just a few short months ago. Maybe I'll remember next time that running across a busy street in the rain while wearing flip flops isn't the best idea.

We arrived back at the ranch and I got her settled in to an open kennel. I poured the remaining canned food into a dish and ran inside the house to get some fresh bedding. Before I got back, the food was gone, not even a drop left. I sat with her for a little while, reassuring her that she was safe and we'd take good care of her. She just kept wagging her tail and sat in my lap. I don't know if she really understands what is going on, but I know my heart is still pounding from the excitement. It's been awhile since I've gotten so hands on in the rescue work; usually, someone else just dumps them on my doorstep or calls to get them a ride. Even though I was soaked and covered in mud, I felt the best I've felt all week. And, I still made it to dinner afterall.

Olympic Spirit

For the first time since the 1996 Olympics, I've been glued to the coverage. I have my friend Eddie to thank for that, as I hadn't watched a moment of it until he brought me into his addiction. But watching the sports reminded me of my Olympic memories.

In 1995, my parents got on board to help out individuals trying out for the US Olympic sailing team. We were flat broke; my parents had invested all their savings to start a dream life on Tybee. They gave up lucrative careers to build something for themselves and to give me a better life. We had no heat, no air conditioning, and no hot water, but we had hospitality, dock space, and plenty of room for camping out. My dad heard about the sacrifices so many of these athletes were making. One couple had sold their home and moved into an RV to help their son with costs for training and tryouts. So my dad put out an offer that any US athlete trying out or making it to the Olympics could stay with us for free. Being the small community we are here at the waterfront village, the shrimpers at our dock provided shrimp and two others had low country boil waiting on the dock each night the teams came back from practices and trials. I didn't realize back then just how much these athletes loved what they were doing. I saw them off every morning and greeted them every evening. Whether they had a good day or a bad day, they were always just thankful to be out there.

When the Olympics finally came around in 1996, we hosted two of the US teams, the entire Italian (FIV) team and its president and the Cayman Islands team which was being coached by one of the US teams we hosted during the 1995 trials. Once again, we were having nightly low country boils and talking about their days' work. I was treated to several trips to the Olympic Village downtown. I can't say anything has ever come quite close to that experience, being surrounded by the greatest athletes from around the world. Even though I only played soccer and had never spent much time on sailboats, I was in awe each time I got to go down there. I even got front seats aboard the coach boat for the Caymans team to watch the actual Olympic races.

This past Tuesday, I had the honor of attending a breakfast celebrating former Olympic athletes now living in Savannah. To listen to their stories, especially for the athletes from Mali and the Sudan, you could never quite comprehend the level of commitment and love for the sport. I played soccer up through my freshman year of college, but I did it for fun. I had no addiction to the sport, I just enjoyed playing. But these athletes made huge sacrifices, often going against the odds. If I only had an ounce of their dedication and passion, I wonder what I could really do.

I spent last night hanging out with my dad watching the Olympics at the Legion on Tybee. My mom is out of town for a family funeral, and it is the first time she's left my dad alone in 14 years, so I came to spend some time with him. My dad rarely talks, but as we were watching the Olympics last night, he started telling stories from our parts in 1995 and 1996. He glowed with pride to be able to tell others about how much support he was able to give to teams that left their homes and had hardly anyone here cheering them on. I never quite knew just how much that meant to him until he was sharing it all with me last night. He even still keeps the pennants all the teams signed up on our office walls. But what really stunned me last night was how much the Olympics actually bonded us. We were the ones here every morning to wish them luck and we were the ones here every evening to welcome them home. And last night, we were here once again, together, cheering on our favorite teams.

Finding Hope

I've been struggling with what to write as so much has been going on in my life recently. But I guess it all starts at the crossroads.

In July, I left to spend some time in Cincinnati for the possibility of relocating. It took awhile to get everything squared away for the pups so I wouldn't worry while I was gone. I still found myself getting up at the same time every morning, and soon discovered that silence is creepy to me. I spent a lot of time by myself, reading a new book, and tanning out on the back patio. I laughed every day of the weather reports about the "heat wave" we were having. I was barely breaking a sweat. I spent other time working remotely, still checking emails, and making posts on the forum. I was there to ponder the possibility of spending the rest of my life with someone, but still felt terribly alone.

Since we first met, Aaron has called me type A+ personality. He's right. I can't ever just sit still; I don't really know how to. And that drove me nuts in Cincy. I felt guilty that I was there, having fun while others were here picking up my responsibilities. I missed my "kids," even their obnoxious behaviors and chewing up things that don't belong to them. I just didn't feel like me. I thought I'd be happy leaving Savannah, finding someone who loved me for all that I am, and treated me to wonderful times (I did at least finally get to go to my first Jimmy Buffett concert). But it just wasn't enough. As much as my heart had been aching throughout the long distance relationship, I actually found myself crying because I missed my home and the rescue. I was incredibly hurt that Cincy people were not friendly, waves and smiles were never returned, and no such thing as chit chat in stores. Even at the Buffett concert, where people had been tailgating for days (several Parrothead clubs made the trip), I didn't find reception to outsiders. I felt like I had no purpose. But the day before I left, I got my reminder.

We were on our way back down to the levee in Newport when my cell rang. The caller id said "ER Vet." I immediately panicked, not knowing if it was one of my babies or a foster. A familiar voice answered, and said they had a situation and wanted my help. I was quite relieved, until I heard the story. A dog had been brought in the night before by a landlord, apparently having been left by the tenants. She had been on a chain, for how long we may never know, but it had grown into her neck. The vet techs took to the dog immediately and started cleaning her wound, applied a bandage, and gave her pain medication and antibiotics. They told me they just couldn't turn her over to animal control, she was just too sweet. I agreed to take her when I returned from my flight at 9:30 the next night. I hung up the phone and realized I hadn't even bothered to ask her age, her size or even her breed. I think I was just so relieved to be reminded that I had a purpose in life.

And thus begins the story of Hope, the dog that reminds me each day with her kisses that we all have a place in this world, even if we aren't always sure we're there yet.