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.