Lizzy at her new home

Lizzy - In large animal shelters, a designated row of kennels are dedicated to sick and mangy animals. One day, we were walking by these "treatment kennels" when we saw a small, white bundle of a dog curled tightly lying on the cracked cement floor in kennel 166. The bundle was skinny and fragile, mostly white, with black spotted ears. We spoke kindly to her, whispering to wake her in a gentle manner, but she didn't budge. The noise in the shelter was deafening, with the sound of frightened barking, whimpering puppies, grackles cackling for dog kibble and a loud speaker blaring kennel numbers of lucky animals going home. This young dog was oblivious to it all.

The white pup was either so sick that she wasn't responding to the shelter distress, or we guessed that due to her color and being a pitbull, that she might be deaf. We touched her and she woke with a faint look of hope and an apprehensive tail wag. We clapped our hands abruptly above her head, but she didn't respond. Indeed, her only sickness was a history of irresponsible breeding and being discarded. She was scheduled to be euthanized the next day for 'unsocial behavior and illness.' 

Within a half hour, from the waiting room, we heard the intercom announce that the white dog in 'treatment kennel 166' would be going home. Removed from her silent world, we carried her to our car and named her Lizzy. She never heard us call her by name, but she soon realized that she was cherished. She was adopted to a woman who wanted the responsibility of a "special needs" dog. Lizzy now works as a "therapy dog," and brings  happiness to people with disabilities. 

Feral pack

Jiffy

Ruby

Jiffy and Ruby- 

Many great dogs come from the Pearce Lane corridor in Eastern Travis County, Texas. The most recent treasure came from a feral pack of 11 untouchable dogs, all red heeler mixes except for two white pups. I was overwhelmed when I discovered the dogs living at a trailer, in the woods off Pearce Lane, surviving on dog food occasionally tossed to the ground. They were a brilliant, functional pack. Survival depended on sharing food, accessing water by crossing under busy Pearce Lane, via a ravine, and staying warm in winter curled on carpet scraps. One sunny, brisk morning, I observed the younger dogs playing on dirt mounds behind the property. Their carefree manner was heartbreaking, since they had so little to be grateful for.

I couldn't touch the dogs, so I began trapping them a few at a time. They were easy to catch because they were eager for food. There were 6 females and 5 males, so the little pack was growing. I was determined to trap females before they became pregnant. Unfortunately, most went to the shelter and were euthanized, because they would never tame. I regretted this reality. I caught the two white pups, about 6 months old, both with black ears and an odd blue eye. One twin reacted by growling, while the other sat calmly in his trap. I struggled with the injustice of it and I decided to save one, so I put my faith in the calm pup. I arranged friends (all dog trainers), to socialize the lucky one. The dog responded magically to hand feeding and handling. When the pup came to my house for fostering, I had to keep him. His name is Jiffy.

I gradually trapped the next 3 dogs. They were fixed and released back to the best life they would ever know. Since dogs have no sense of entitlement, they were estastic to return. The caretaker was encouraged to provide better care. The final pup, a dainty red Shepherd mix, was trap resistant. When the caretaker went to Mexico, she became so hungry that she was caught. 'Ruby' has socialized slowly and her foster parent recently adopted her!  This dog pack can attribute their success to sharing and staying together; a good lesson for all.

Diva 

Diva - Driving home from work one chilly evening, I noticed a stray dog trying to knock over a trash can at a rural Rest stop. The dog trotted off to an old house down the hillside. I made a mental note to stop by soon. It was an adult female dog and probably unfixed. The only thing worse than one stray dog is ten stray dogs.


The next day, I drove to the old farm property. There were abandoned cars and broken glass littering the ground. The  dog, a young Shepherd mix, happily greeted me. I knocked on the door and asked the family if they would let me take the dog to the vet tomorrow, for free shots and sterilization. I offered to transport the dog, to be sure she made it to the vet. It eliminates excuses. They said "yes," and explained she was a stray. I requested they keep the dog closer to home, but they had no fence. I didn't want to suggest a chain, as I believe it's a fate worse than death.


I picked the dog up the next morning and loaded her into a crate. That night, when I took the dog home, no one was home. I left post-surgery care notes, my phone number and wished the dog luck. We had no foster space, or I would have asked to keep the sweet natured dog.


As I was driving off, I saw something move in the weedy pasture and freeze near an old pile of lumber. It was a tiny kitten. She came bounding to me through the brush and into my arms. I was thankful for this little miracle, as the kitten was skinny and the timing perfect. She wouldn't last long with hungry coyotes. Diva was a princess, very affectionate and loving. She now enjoys a permanent home in Austin, with a nice family and a little boy, who cherishes his royal cat.

RedDog

RedDog and Jewel - These two dogs epitomize the meaning of a great friendship.  "RedDog," a wily feral Red Heeler mix, had a buddy, named "Jewel," a plain black Flat-Coated Retriever mix. They would visit us when we began working the area behind a rural convenience store off infamous Pearce Lane. RedDog and Jewel lived off egg rolls that customers tossed them. We were trapping stray puppies and placed 25 adoptable pups into new homes from this poor area, but had no foster homes for these 2, not so adoptable, adult dogs.

Jewel was furry and friendly and Red Dog was short coated and feral. We nicknamed Jewel "Circi Bear," since she was chubby and had the bearlike mannerism of tossing her head sideways while giving a big doggy grin and offering her paw. Since we couldn't take them into foster now, we decided to fix them first and find a foster home later. We took Jewel in to be spayed and had to trap the unsocial RedDog. After vetting, we released them to the hillside where they lived and we provided dogfood to the Thai residents who occasionally fed them. We'd visit every few days and trained the dogs to come to a whistle, excited about a good meal when they heard us call. Jewel would almost wag her body in half when we'd approach. RedDog would lie under the junk car and happily thump her tail, but dart away when approached. 

Eventually Jewel's overt friendliness encouraged RedDog to bravely trust, but it took  months. One late September afternoon, we decided to take both dogs into foster care. It would be long term and expensive, since both probably had heartworms. There was a lot to consider; would RedDog socialize? Would they even be there when we arrived to pick them up? 

With anticipation, we drove to Pearce Lane and whistled. The dogs were gone. We whistled again and and looked out over the overgrown pastures, burned trailers and solitary shacks. Suddenly, in the distance, we saw 2 tails rise above the grass and cut a narrow path through the brown sticky weeds, running until they broke the weed barrier into the clearing. We happily loaded Jewel and dragged RedDog to the car. Both dogs were indeed long term fosters, but as luck would have it, found wonderful permanent homes.