The Pound Puppy Success Stories

This page is dedicated to all those discarded puppies & dogs, the dogs of today who have been disposed of as we dispose of our fast food containers, and to their NEW families, who have loved them, and given them a second lease on life. Our hats are off to both the dog, AND their owners, for working so hard. Our hope is that this page will teach the value of life, and at the same time, encourage others to get that "pound puppy" and give them a second chance.

Please send me someone who will care,
I'm tired of running; Im sick with despair.

My body is aching, it's so racked with pain,
And, Dear God, I pray as I run in the rain.

That someone will love me and give me a home,
That warm cozy bed and a big juicy bone.

My last owner tied me all day in the yard,
Sometimes with no water and, God, that was hard!

So I chewed my leash, God, and I ran away,
To rummage in garbage and live as a stray.

But now, God, I'm tired, hungry and cold,
And I'm so afraid that I'll never grow old.

They've chased me with sticks and hit me with stones
While I run the streets just looking for bones!

I'm not really bad, God, please help me if you can,
For I have become just a "victim of man".

I'm wormy, dear God, and I'm ridden with fleas,
While all I want is a owner to please!

If you find one for me, God, I'll try to be good,
I'll wont chew their shoes and I'll do as I should.

I'll love them, protect them and try to obey,
When they tell me to sit, to lie down or stay!

I don't think I'll make it too long on my own,
Cause I'm getting so weak and I'm so all alone.

Each night as I sleep in the bushes , I cry.
I'm so afraid, God, that I'm going to die,

And I've got so much love and devotion to give.
That I should be given a new chance to live,

So dear God, please, please, answer my prayer and
Send me somebody who will really care ..

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.

Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.

We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.

Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisoner of love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers."

You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed, "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.

You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.

At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.

When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room.

She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.

As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago.

She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself --a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.

And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

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A Note from the Author:
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If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in American and Canadian animal shelters. Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the copyright notice. Please use it to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that all life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay and neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals. Jim Willis

This page uses alot of different fonts, and if you don't have them on your computer you will not get the "Full effect". Most of the time that is not a problem, but the above poem is written in "chicken scratch" font. Please download this font for the full effect. The file is zipped, on someone else's site (not mine). Believe me, you won't regret it.

Our SPCA Special	Panther, A Loving Second Chance
Lazarus Tells His Story	Charlie "B"
Tucker Bandi	Scottie's Story
Brett, the Blind, but Loving Dog	Breeze's Fur Kids
Snoopy - Gone, but Not Forgotten!	Tammy's Dog House
Denver Dog - Aren't I a Pretty Boy?	Come Play with Tokyo
Mr. Chubbs and His motto!	Lucky, the dog with Nine Lives
Dingo dog	An Ode To Trek
Cassie Blanca da black labrador	Xena Warrior Princess

Three years ago, we decided to get a new dog. The local SPCA found this out and gave us a call, saying that they had a "scotty" type dog. We went up to check her out. The first thing that we noticed was her coat. The rescuers had to shave it all off because it was so knotted. She was dying to have someone take her paw, obviously the only thing she was taught. When I took her paw, and she looked into my eyes, I knew she was for me. The rescuers told us that a lady was driving along the highway and saw the dog sitting on the side of the highway. She figured that someone would be along shortly to pick her up. 4 hours later, she was driving along the same highway, and in the very same place, was the very same dog.. She felt so bad she stooped and picked her up. Thank you to that lady. You changed many lives. She now had the softest coat I've ever seen. She competes on 4-H obedience, senior visitations, and SPCA fund-raisers. She is the mascot for our local SPCA. Everyone knows her. She is also famous for her flying circles.( You've never seen a dog spin in circles as fast as she can!)

I hope you all read this and see how much a throw-away dog can enrich a person, a family and even a community. By the way, we named her Scruff-dog, a name that suites her to a t.

Panther, my new and gorgeous two year old Black Collie/Lab mix, was neglected for a long time, perhaps a year, due to the illness of his elderly owner. I know she loved him and trained him well, but the ultimate responsiblity to that dog should have been placing him in a loving home when she realized she was getting worse, and the dog was dying of starvatrion and neglect.

Luckily, a neighbor was there to care for both. The old lady died, and Panther, now a sickly 52 Lbs, ( his ultimum weight is 85-90 Lbs.,) had a high temperature due to infection and was filled with parasites and other health problems. He "lived" at the neighbors' house for 10 days. When they brought him to the Minersville SPCA in late April, he was so physically and emotionally ill, he has given up on life all together. He had diarrhea and vomited frequently, his hair fell out in huge chunks, and there was no meat on him at all. His eyes had a sad stare to them, and he was no panther... The SPCA told PA. Lab Rescue that this dog will be put to sleep, no one would have wanted him.

So when the brave men and women of PA Labrador Rescue summoned me and my beloved 6 year old black Labrador, Stanley, to the mission, we rolled up our sleeves (or lip folds,) and trotted on our way through many of valleys and over many of bridges, in a virgin land of Indian sounding rivers, green forests, and long asphalt throughways. And after two hours of direct drive, and another one of chaos, we found the place we called "hell."

We were lucky to have found a disheveled looking man there, long after hours, who showed us the path to the main trailer, where cell blocks housed the wailing of forgotten dogs and their filthy, almost lifeless bodies. There we were introduced to a heart broken, worm filled, filthy black haired figure, which looked like a toupee on a broomstick, a dog named Panther. He stood there, death in his beautiful eyes, and shiver in his infected, emaciated
body. At 52 pounds, hunched over into fetal position, Mr. P., the Lab/Collie youngster who's owner has just died, looked like a skeleton.

Well, the SPCA was wrong! I wanted him! Now, a month later, Panther is a champion agility 'maven' in Philly's Pennypack Park's dog play group. He is also a wanna-be marathon 'paddle' swimmer and water retriever (even though he can't figure out how to swim gracefully yet,) he weighs 75 Lbs., and his hair is almost full, and raven black. He is beautiful, inside and out. On Wednesday, June 4th, he will be neutered, and next month will be enrolled in an agility team. He still has bouts with diarrhea and was dewormed twice, but he will survive, and most likely live a long and healthy life.

I think the only solution is to keep our eyes and ears open. Check on your family and friends regularly, especially in the hot and cold months, and keep an eye on your neighbors and their pets. No animal, including humans, should be left alone to die. Period.

Good luck with all your rescued pooches, you know by now how much they appreciate this new chance for life!

**Web Author's update: Panther came through the Neutering with flying colors, and is becoming healthier every day, and has begun being the full fledged, loving dog he deserves to be!

Update #2: Seems like Panther turned out to be a pure bred flat coated retriever! And he's as gorgeous as you could possibly imagine!

Subject: Lazarus tells his story
From: Allmylabs@aol.com

Hello everyone. My name is Lazarus. I am a 7 month old black Labrador. The rescue people, April and Linda, gave me that name cause I came back from the dead, like the guy in the Bible. You see, a few months ago, this lady found me on the side of the road and was nice enough to stop and check on me. She could tell I was really sick, so she took me to the lady who cares for animals in this very small town where I live. I think they called her a vet. Anyway, the vet called the rescue people to see what they should all do about me. I was really, really sick. I couldn't stand up, and I couldn't wag my tail like I wanted to do when all those nice ladies where touching me and kissing me and talking to me. I just had to lay there. No one really knew what to do, because this small town vet did not have the equiptment to give me the care I needed. They talked about sending me to Knoxville, which has the best animal hospital in the state. The vet said they would be the only ones who could save me. Then the rescue people said they did not have the funding to send me there. So, the nice vet lady decided she would try to treat me there, and if it didn't work, they would have to put me to sleep, because I was just too sick to transport anywhere.

So, ya know what she did? She went to an animal hospital real far away and brought back some things that they suck in my leg. It was called an I.V. And they also put a catheter in me. The vet stayed with me for most of the night, but she had to go home. I heard her on the phone saying she didn't think I would be alive in the morning, but that I was fighting really hard for my life. Anyway, the next day, when that nice vet lady came in....I was standing up in my cage. I had chewed the I.V. and the catheter off of me.

I was wagging my tail, like I had wanted to do for so long. The vet was in shock. The vet told the rescue people that I fought harder for my life than any dog she had ever seen. Anyway, eventually, I got to go home with April. I was still a little sick and had to take medicine, but I was happy and playful, and she said I was eating her out of house and home! All the other dogs at April's house just loved me. They played with me, I learned to retrieve, and she made me do things like sit and stay even though I was so darn cute it was hard for her not to give in to me. She let me stay in the house with the kids and they were lots of fun. She taught me to go potty outside and so I got to stay in the house all the time with the other dogs and the kids.

Then one day, this man wearing glasses came over to April's house. He came to see some of the other dogs because he need someone to help him walk around outside. April said he is partially blind and he needs a dog like us to train to be with him all the time. He liked all the dogs he saw, and April had me in the house because it was my nap time. Well, I heard that man talking and I came running to the door. I wanted to play with him and ya know what? He fell in love with me he said. I walked with him all around the yard, and I never left his side the entire time he was there. And a few days later, that man came and got me and took me home with him. Now guess where I live? I live on a college campus with Jonathan. He loves me and takes me on walks and I get to show him where all the curbs are. He said I am the best dog in the world cause I help him to see things that he couldn't see before. He trains me everyday, and he can't see how cute I am so it is not so easy for him to give in to me!

I get to sleep in the bed at his house, and I get to go to all his classes with him. I have a wonderful life now. I have more love than any dog could have, and I have a purpose in life--a duty to fulfill and that is what every labrador wants and needs. I knew there was a reason I was fighting so hard for my life. So, please say a prayer for Jonathan and me...that we will be together for a long long time. And also, say a prayer for all the other helpless dogs in need. That they will find some nice people like Linda and April and the vet.

I Would like to tell you all my story about my best friend Trek. Trek is going to be 1 December 15, 1998. I got him at the Humane Society when he was five weeks old. From the day I got him until today, my days have been filled with nothing but love and laughter. I got Trek when I was going through a period of depression (I guess you could call it that, to this day I don't know what I was feeling). I guess you could say I was sad and very lonely. I lost my Dad when I was 21, and went through a divorce/breakup with my Mom and Dad in my late teens. My Mom moved away to Florida, and I stayed in Boston, so I was left with her family who took me under their wing. Anyway, my family was always telling me right from wrong and I never really had a chance to make my own dcesions, until a year ago on the 15th of December, when I got my Dog Trek. Everyone told me I was out of my mind to get a dog, but I didn't care. I wanted a dog to fill that emptiness in my life. Somebody who loved me for me, somebody I could take care of. Trek and I have been through some hard times together. Five months ago I almost had to give him up because I couldn't find an apartment that allowed pets. Of course, my family telling me I had to get rid of him wasn't helping the stress or the apartment hunt any better. So, for the first time in my life, I made the biggest decision on my own. I packed my bags and Trek and I are now living in Florida next to my Mom. Trek is my everything. He's the reason I smile every day now. He helped me out of a very sad time in my life. For anyone out there feeling depressed, my advice to you is get a dog. Trek has made my life complete, and I'll be forever grateful to that person who dropped him off at the Humane society. We're both very happy now. Trek gets a big yard and a wonderful Grandma who loves him dearly, and I get my 2 best friends who love me dearly: My Mom and Trek!

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