She was left at Miami Dade Animal Services by her family at 15 year old and rescued by DRSF in October of 2020.  She was tiny little girl, and was skinny and shy.  She stayed with President Pam for a while before coming to our house, where she quickly claimed her spot in a bed in my room.  

She couldn’t see very well and couldn’t hear very well and was a little off cognitively, but she loved to eat and was always first in line for dinner and would often eat her and Lionel’s dinner if he didn’t eat fast enough.

Tahiti had her first seizure Tuesday night and spent the rest of the night at LeadER under observation and getting some anti seizure meds into her system.  She had another seizure Wednesday afternoon and cognitively we didn’t think she could come back.  She stabilized a bit, she stayed one more night at LeadER and I was able to bring her home Thursday night.  

We knew we didn’t have a lot of time but were going to make the best of what we had and so Thursday night dinner had some chicken and beef added to it (thank you leftover Moe’s!) and then not even a full day after getting her home, the jingle bells around her neck work me up to tell me she was having another seizure at just before 7AM on Friday.  She came out of it and ate her breakfast like a champ, but it was written in the stars, we had to let her go.

Lap of Love was able to fit us in at 1PM and so I came home a bit early, armed with McDonalds French Fries and Tahiti, Watson, Leah, Tahiti and I all spent some time together on the patio, eating French Fries.  Tahiti loved them and when we were done, she washed them down with a big drink of water.

Dr. Sy arrived and was so very kind.  She came with treats for everyone with an extra special one, a syringe of Nutella for Tahiti, to distract her while the first injection was administered.  Tahiti was able to enjoy the entire syringe of Nutella, snuggled in my lap,  in her favorite Bones and Me blanket, before the sedative took hold, and snored peacefully as she gently slipped away.

My heart was broken, but rescue did what rescue was supposed to do.  DRSF was her safety net when her family abandoned her and provided her the care she needed, and gave me the opportunity to have her come home,  even for a short time to be loved and spoiled, and feel the sunshine on her face and the grass of her back yard under her feet before she was helped across the bridge as gently as possible.  

Tahiti, you were with us for just a short time, but you will be forever loved and forever remembered.  Until we meet again, look for the guy in the fleece and he will take care of you <3 

I am super excited to get to share this process with everyone as it has been more than a learning experience for me and it has always been my goal to share that you don’t need any magical super powers to be a special needs foster.  

If you are new to Meri’s story and the story of the 99 dogs who were found in that house in Miami in June of 2019 you can read local news coverage, here, here, and here.  (After you have read it, let me know how hard it was to hear that woman say that she hadn’t mis-treated the 100+ animals in her care…. #karmacomesaround)

When the story broke, many South Florida Rescues stepped in to help, with DRSF taking 15 dogs up front and then one more after she was returned two weeks later for being terrified.  (That terrified girl was Bobbi and I got to foster her as well.  Bobbi healed from her experience faster than Meri did and chose her forever family who adopted her along with another sibling from the same house.  You can read about my meltdown in doing the right thing and letting Bobbi go here.)

The DRSF community raised over $6,500 in support of supplies and vetting for the dogs we took in and you can see their intake photos, updates, and happy tales on their Fundrazr.   One by one, each of our 16 hoarder dogs found their forever homes between June 2019 and and mid 2020 until only Meri was left…..just sweet Meri sitting under my nightstand and hiding under my bed for well over a year. 

I am not a dog trainer or behavior expert of any kind nor did I know anything at all about feral dogs before welcoming two of them into my house thinking I could help them.   I am a person who very seldom meets a challenge I am not willing to crazily run head long into and try and solve and I am a lover of research, complementary therapies, and shopping my way through problems.  I combined my love of all those things to work with Meri and boy did we try them all:

• Thundershirt
• Bacs Rescue Remedy
• Aconite
• Pheremone Diffuser
• Nina Ottonson Dog Puzzles
• WholeTones for Pets (Use my code x for 10% off!)
• Tapping
• Aromatherapy
• We even had a chance to meet with Joan Ranquet, an internationally renowned animal communicator and TEDX Speaker. 

Fast forward over a year and despite my best efforts, we really hadn’t made much progress.  Meri was by no means “dogging” but I felt her energy had changed ever so slightly for the better.  She would make eye contact with me for a brief second and I felt like maybe she wanted to interact with us, but she didn’t know how.  

As I had shared in a previous IG post, some things started getting chewed up around the house which led me to believe that Meri was getting her party on a bit during the day.  Once I saw her strolling around the house after I left for work and jumping up on my bed and rolling around on her back to find her comfy spot, it dawned on me that we had made more progress than I thought we had.

I shared my thoughts and video evidence with President Pam, who talked it over with Jamie at Dynamite, and they decided it was worth a chance which has brought us to where we are today with our sweet girl away at Therapy Camp, getting extra special attention and love to help her get to have her happily ever after.

We are just a couple days in, but Meri’s report cards have been giving us hope, even this soon.  We are about half way toward covering the generously discounted cost of Meri’s therapy and welcome any support to cover her care at her Fundrazr as well!

Our whole world had changed in a moment.  These were things that happened to other families, and when we heard about them we paused for a moment, thought about how bad we felt for that family and then went on.  

We were now “that family” and as vitals updates, procedural consents, and surgical reports over ran our lives in caring for Lynn, her dogs Gary and Morrie were left without their Mom to care for them.  

Rescues are inundated with requests from family members to take dogs that belonged to their loved ones due to aging, passing away, inability to care for them after surgery, and various reasons.  As heart breaking as it is for dogs to lose their people, having a family member take the time to search out a rescue gives these dogs a better shot than most as equally frequently, there is not a family member willing to step up to help the dogs of a loved one and then rescues receive blasts like these from shelters. 

Gary and Morrie are lucky in that their Aunt is a crazy dog lady who doesn’t bat an eye to add two medically needy dogs to her home for an extended and perhaps permanent basis, but not every dog is that lucky.  

Our family has learned many things from the legal, medical, and patient advocacy side through our journey that we want to pay forward for other families who may unfortunately find themselves facing a similar situation as ours, but for me, I also have an extra soft spot for sharing how to plan for your dogs now that I have lived it from both the rescue and personal sides. 

Here are some steps to take to make sure your dogs don’t end up like those in the shelter blast above:

Have The Uncomfortable Convo

Nobody wants to roll up on friends and family and say “hey, BTW, if something happened to me, would you take my dogs?” but you need to.  You may assume that a BFF or family member would step in, but would they? You don’t know until you ask.   Don’t leave this to chance. 

Provide The Info To That Person

Start a Google Doc, an Evernote notebook, any sort of shared document, and write out a quick list of everything that person would need to know if they assumed care of your dogs at a moment’s notice.  Who is their vet, what do they eat, what is their schedule, do they take any meds and what are those dosages and frequency and share access with that that person so that they have it.  Set a reminder in your calendar to check it 2x annually to make sure nothing has changed. 

Luckily for us, Lynn travels frequently for work so she had everything written down so that we knew Gary’s insulin dosage was 4 units 2x daily, but without that, it would have been some scrambling to overcome doggie HIPAA to get that info.

Notify Your Vet

Call your vet and ask to leave a note on your records for whoever the magical person is that becomes your emergency contact and should they need to step in, they have your approval to work with that person to provide care for your dog. 

Have Supplies Ready

As part of any good emergency plan, you should have some basic supplies assembled if you need to evacuate quickly with your dogs.  That emergency kit should also be stocked with anything anyone needed to care for your dogs on a moment’s notice.  Is your dog a diabetic? Throw in a bag of needles.  Do they happen to be an aggressive marker and will rapidly wear out their welcome due to marking the bejesus out of everything including their Aunts curtains, bed skirt, couch, and dining room table? Throw in a spare belly band or two, or a package or two of diapers. 

Don’t Make Them Spend Their Money To Help Your Dogs 

Dogs are not cheap and it isn’t fair to expect someone to assume the expense of caring for your dogs should something happen to you.  A Pet Trust or a Pet Protection Agreement can provide funding for day to day and/or medical care and make sure your wishes for your dogs are honored.  (*Disclaimer – The last thing I am is an Attorney and am not qualified to provide legal advice. I am, however, a lover of internet rabbit holes for educational purposes!)

Both Gary and Morrie are beside me on the couch with my current DRSF Fosters as I write this and are safe here for as long as they need to be.  Both of them have paid visits to Pet Medical Center of Boca since they have been here with big thanks to Dr. Hughes and the team there for their support in helping us through.  

May you or your dogs never need any of the info above and may you and your families be safe and healthy.

Clark had been an island onto himself since he and Greta came here in March. He didn’t like to snuggle or be held and had some cognitive issues that were manageable for a while, but as the days and months wore on, his little mind gave out on him. Clark needed to be “rebooted” many times a day when I found him in stuck and barking in places he should not have been – wedged behind things, under things, stuck in places he really wasn’t stuck in (behind a door that moved if you pushed on it) and in places that involved moving a washing machine at 3AM to get him out or having to hang up on Pam as he had somehow gotten his head and shoulders through the braided plumbing behind the toilet and I had no idea how I was going to get him out…

Clark wandered in circles throughout the house and his two favorite activities were napping on hard surfaces and walking through things he shouldn’t have been walking through. Clark walked through food bowls, the water dish, and he also caused the coining of the term “poop foot” which was a phenomenon caused by Clark repeatedly walking through poo deposits on the pee pads which caused great cleaning and bathing issues when I would get home.

It had gotten to the point that I was afraid to leave him as I didn’t know where he would get stuck and that was the sign that it was time for him to transition.

So today, we had a picnic in the guest room where we shared a cheeseburger and fries to send him on his way with a full tummy. I got to hold him for the longest time ever as the first shot took hold and then he was gone from this life, restored back to health and running again in the sun, stuck in places no more…..

God speed little man…I am sorry that guy in the fleece was cursing up a blue streak about how many dogs there were when you got there. Give him some time and he will simmer down…he has a very soft heart and gives good ear scratches  Until we meet again 

I knew Greta was leaving me (as is Clark) and I had an appointment set for tomorrow with Lap of Love Veterinary Hospice to help them both cross and Greta beat me to it this afternoon.

Greta had a spa day this AM as she had a bath and I spent some time snuggling her in her towel after we were done. She had gone down hill quickly and was very weak and by the time I ran errands today and got home, she was almost gone and took her final steps across the bridge before we got to LeadER Animal Specialty Hospital.

I am sad that she has gone but take solace in the fact that her life did not end the day her family handed her over to be euthanized and she got almost 6 additional months of naps, good food, and sunshine on her face and paws before she was ready to go on her own schedule. Rescue did what Rescue is supposed to do….

God speed little girl and I would love to get to see you run and play with all those who have gone before you. Look for the guy in the fleece cursing the fact that I have sent him another dog and he will take very good care of you  Until we meet again…..

I was chatting with President Pam who said “We need some photos of Bobbi for the website.”  

Photos? SURE!  No problem! I got photos! Bobbi is beyond beautiful but who was going to adopt a dog who was just-barely-not feral? I didn’t have a thing in the world to worry about.  Bobbi would be with me for a good long time at the least, and potentially indefinitely at best. All I needed to do to fulfill my foster responsibility would be to send some photos and I would have not to think about what I would do if there was a family who wanted to adopt her for quite a while.  

A couple days later, I was scrolling through Facebook and there they were.  Bobbi’s photos. On the DRSF feed. The photos I took. In our living room. On our patio.  On my bed. Where Bobbi lives. Where she learned to feel safe. Where together we celebrated each new first that she achieved in the year since she was rescued – BIG firsts – like sitting on the couch long enough and getting close enough to take her picture.  Those were our private moments that I was dumb enought to share and now here they were on the DRSF feed, for the whole world to see…. What the hell had I been thinking???

Even in the last 30 days, Bobbi’s personality had begun to come out even more – she sunned herself on the patio.  She slept with her belly up on the couch like she was the one paying the mortgage. She ran laps outside and was starting to learn to play.  I was just getting to the best part of Bobbi and now, here she was, all out there, on our feed, making it look like she was in need of a family.  

I had been punched in the gut.  I was righteously indignant. Bobbi doesn’t need a family!  I am her family. Good God she is not even hardly adoptable.  And then, just in that initial gut punch wasn’t bad enough,….Next, I saw how many people had seen Bobbi’s post and how many comments were under it. Twenty-seven-thousand-frigging people had seen that post with nearly 50 people saying how beautiful she was and how they knew her perfect family was out there.  

I felt the panic well up that my secret was out.  Literally. I was the only one who actually “saw” Bobbi as she ran and hid when anyone else was here.  My Mom and Sisters had only laid eyes on her as a black and white blur and even Pam didn’t even get to see her when she was here and now I had sent her photos off, like it was no big deal, for everyone and their brother to see her. 

It was just Bobbi and I from the beginning. Just us. 

Bobbi was not one of the original 15 dogs we welcomed to DRSF after they arrived at Miami Dade Animal Services after being rescued from that hoarding house with 97 dogs in it on June 9, 2019.  Bobbi was somehow deemed “adoptable” upon arriving at the shelter, and was placed on the floor, where she was adopted out, and then returned two weeks later after she had cowered in terror under the bed and wouldn’t eat anything the entire time. 

When she was surrendered back to the shelter, Bobbi was technically an owner surrender which made her changes even less likely to get out of the shelter alive.  We saw her come back in and decided that we couldn’t let her be euthanized when she was so close to having her chance, and that 16 non-dachshund hoarder dogs wasn’t that much different from 15 non-dachshund hoarder dogs, so Bobbi came to DRSF and came right to me after she had been sprung and vetted.  And from that day forward, I was on a mission to do everything I could to help her. 

And now, here we were, just about one year later, having come so far, but having so much further to go and her photos all out there saying she was looking for a family. Everyone gushed about how beautiful she was (they are G-d damned right she was beautiful but I didn’t need them to tell me that….), cheering her on for how far she had come and that they knew her perfect forever family was out there. 

WTH????  Why had I agreed to this? Why did I send the good photos?  Why didn’t I take some crappy posed shots instead of sharing photos of our milestones to show how amazing she really was? 

I caught my breath and poured a glass of wine.  It was fine. I was fine. We were fine. I had been doing this for 10 years…how many times did we share special needs dogs photos and all the people commented all the comments about how beautiful they were and how they would take them if they were closer, blah, blah, blah, and then crickets on an actual application. 

This would blow over.  I drank my wine and started to fancy myself pretty strategic – I was a good foster.  I had sent the photos and I had checked the box. Everyone would say Bobbi was beautiful, no apps would come in, it would fade from the radar, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it again for at least a couple months. 

My heart rate slowly returned to normal.  And then I got a text from Pam. “Look in the DM’s on the DRSF page”.  I clicked over and my heart was instantly in my throat. The thing I wanted the most for Bobbi and the thing I wanted the least for Bobbi was sitting there in our DM’s.

A family wanted Bobbi.

They had adopted one of the other hoarding survivors.

Who had been traumatized.

And they had stood by her and loved her through it. 

And their Toni looked just like Bobbi. 

And they wanted to adopt Bobbi.  

The next few days were a blur and I prayed something would derail this seemingly miraculous happy ending so that I could avoid what I knew was coming.  

I talked with Bobbi’s potential Forever Mom.  She was beyond lovely. They had already rescued one hoarding survivor and were randomly scrolling through Facebook and saw Bobbi and they couldn’t believe their eyes.  They wanted Toni to have a sister, quite possibly her ACTUAL sister, and knew they could love another dog through the same process.  

It was too perfect.  It was too late to say anything.  I didn’t want to be the flaky foster who doesn’t speak up that they want to adopt the dog until after they have talked to the applicants.  I wanted her to stay forever, but I knew in my heart that I wasn’t Bobbi’s Forever Mom. I was Bobbi’s Foster Mom and I owed it to Bobbi to let her have her happily ever after.  She deserved to be with a family that chose her, not someone who got backed into a corner and had to make a decision. To honor Bobbi, I had to let her go. 

And so, before I knew what was happening Bobbi’s Mom and Dad were standing in my living room doing a socially distanced adoption, with Bobbi in a crate, and then she was gone.  

And my heart was broken. 

She had been scared.  She had known something was up.  I let strangers carry her out the door in a crate.  

I am not a crier.  I cried. Did I do the right thing?  

I had to trust the process. I had to trust Karma.  I had to believe that sometimes things line up in such a way that after being in foster care for a year and never being posted, less than 4 hours after Bobbi was posted, a family who didn’t even know she existed was randomly scrolling their feed and saw their beloved Toni’s twin scroll by just as they had moved to be able to have a bigger place to have another dog.  A family who knew Bobbi’s story and had navigated it once and had enough love to do it again. 

It had to be good.  She had to be ok.

I watched my phone for an update.  I watched me phone for a message from Mona, saying that the whole thing had gone to hell in less than 24 hours and they wanted to bring her back.  I watched my phone for a message from Bobbi’s family – good or bad. Was she hiding under the bed, terrified as she had been when she got to our house, or was she ok?  I tried not to think about it as I teared up every time I did.  

And then Pam called. Bobbi’s family had sent a “happy tales” photo.  Was I ok to see it? Did I have a rusty razor blade in my hand?  

And then there it was….all 4 of them….Bobbi’s Mom and Dad, Toni, and Bobbi- in her Mom’s arms.  My arms had only held Bobbi just a few times, and there she was in her New Mom’s arms less than 48 hours after joining their family.  

My worry had been for naught.  My heart was still broken, but the process worked.  Karma is good. It was fine. It was totally fine. I breathed a sigh of relief.  She was more than ok…..She looked happy.  

I have had two long term fosters cross the bridge and adopted one out in the span of 6 weeks.  This is what rescue does. Rescue makes the impossible possible thanks to the power of love, generosity and karma.  Rescue cries in a heap when we need to and then takes what we learned and keeps going because there are more out there who need us….. Bobbi will always have a place in my heart, but she did as much for me as I did for her, and now, thanks to her,  I am that much better prepared to help the next Bobbi who is out there and needs her spot.

Ethel came to DRSF as one of 4 dogs from Homestead who were “strays”.  Two of them we were not able to help and so we gently helped them cross at Pet Medical Center Boca, and I was chosen as the lucky one to be Ethel and her Brother Harold’s Foster Mom.  They were two peas in a pod and as cute as could be. All was well until Harold passed unexpectedly one night with no warning and no idea what could have caused it.

Ethel did not miss a beat and continued on giving the business to anyone and everyone who would listen.  As our years together passed, time and effects of her previous life began to catch up with her. Ethel’s tongue hung out of her mouth from day 1 due to missing teeth, but over time her lower jaw disintegrated, a battle with a former foster resulted in a broken snout that never healed and floated on her face.  She had repeat infections in said floating snout and even came out victorious over pancreatitis at LeadER and even had a visit with Dr. Alvarez, an Internal Medicine Specialist who saw something wonky in her bladder that we just chose to ignore because there were so many other things going on with her. 

Over the last year, Ethel began to lose weight despite her appetite.  Her snout caused breathing difficulties but as always, I was willing to keep fighting as long as she wanted to keep fighting.  We tried various food options fed various ways…baby food from a dish, mashed potatoes from my finger, pulvarized chicken licked off a plate.  I was up for anything that worked as long as it worked and when it didn’t work any longer, we would try something else.  

As the months wore on, I knew our time was growing short and as the new year turned, I knew it was even shorter.  Her walk slowed (but still with a pep in her step), she ate less, slept more, kept getting thinner and thinner. At the beginning of the week, I knew I had to make the call to let her go.  

The hardest thing in the world is to pick up the phone and schedule a time for your dog to die.  When is the right day? What is the right time? Morning? Afternoon? The process was further complicated by the fact that I have been working from home due to COVID and it didn’t feel right to take a vacation day, but I also didn’t seem right to schedule Ethel to die in between conference calls either.  And so Thursday afternoon seemed to be the day.

From Tuesday morning through Thursday afternoon, I spent as much time as I could with Ethel.  I put her bed near my desk and got her up every couple hours for her to get some water and potty.  I would set her up and stabilize her and then go sit down again to let her have her moment sitting up on her own to drink some water, and if she toppled over, I would either set her up again or help her back into bed trying to remember which side she had been on before so I could put her back on her “other” side  As the days wore on she ate less and less, until Thursday when she ate like a champ.

We spent Thursday afternoon together sitting in the fresh air and warmth on my patio, we meditated together (or I meditated and she slept), and then it was time to get ready for Dr. Jordan to arrive as our time together in this life drew to a close.

I let her know that I loved her and she would feel so much better when she got there and that there would be so many people she knew and loved to greet her including Harold, Seymour, and Agnes.  Most importantly, I told her to do what she could to get everyone into line over there and try and take it easy on the guy with the gray fleece who would greet her when she got there as he had way more doggies over there to take care of than he bargained for.  

Sissie came to DRSF in March of 2017 after her owner could no longer care for her and then came to me in May 2018 after her first foster abruptly notified us that she had to move.  I had limited experience caring for an IVDD dog, and zero experience caring for an incontinent one, but if I wasn’t willing to learn and change our daily operations to care for her, how could I expect anyone else in our community to open their home to an IVDD dog when they previously had no other experience?

Into the abyss I went, and I figured it out as I went along.  Here are the supplies that worked best for us: 

• Whelping Pads – I had a stack of these that rotated through the wash.  I used them like area rugs and did what I could to encourage Sissie to stay on them when she was up and about. 
• Cart – All the DRSF dogs roll on Eddie’s Wheels Carts.  They are custom measured and built for each dog and Pam and I even had the chance to visit their factory!  
• Purple Pebble Mat – These are super soft, super snuggly, moisture wicking mats/beds that I was introduced to by New England Pet Hospice.  Sissie slept for one of these most of the day and they kept her dry. I had a stack of these and rotated them through use/wash and air dryed them on top of my washing machine. 
• Canna Pet – DRSF is grateful to Canna Pet for their generous rescue program that allows us to use CBD and all of its benefits for many DRSF dogs.  Sissie suffered from seizures and I used Canna Pet with her for additional support.  
• Valium Suppositories – Sissie’s seizures were controlled 99% with Phenobarbitol.  I was able to get compounded Valium Suppositories that I kept in the fridge as a backup plan if she had a seizure that she did not come out of on her own.  Be sure to have rubber gloves on hand if you need to use these!!!
• Re-usable Dog Diapers – I didn’t use diapers with Sissie very often, but when I did, these are the ones I used.  The colors are super bright and cute and they washed up with no problem! 
• Nina Ottonson Puzzles – I owe this one to Dynamite Dog Training who had come to visit us to help with Bobbi and Merri, our ferral dogs, who suggested them to build confidence and reduce anxiety.  Bobbi and Meri didn’t want anything to do with them, but Sissie took to them like a duck to water. I am not a huge fan of store bought dog treats (too expensive!) and so I filled them with cucumbers and Crispix cereal.  Less expensive and less calories…two of my favorite things.
• Floor Care – With so many dogs in the house and not being able to come home for lunch made for lots and lots of mopping.  For my floors, I alternate between Mrs. Myers Clean Day and DIY Borax and Vinegar (which I swear lightened the grout in my tiles too!).   Also – Dyson Cordless Vac. Don’t have a dog without one!
• Pill Cutter – Doing pills is my least favorite chore of the week.  This magical little device cut my pill prep time in half for prepping a week’s worth of meds and supplements for 6 dogs. 
• Waterproof Mattress Cover – I am a huge fan of controlling the things I can control so that I can save my anxiety for the things I can’t control.  This mattress cover has saved my mattress more times than I can count from sleeping with an incontinent dog who manages to get out of her bed in my bed on more than one occasion. 
• Bed Gate  – I learned from the school of hard knocks that a dog having a seizure could fall out of bed at night.  This solved that problem. 

So many people ask “how are you able to care for special needs dogs? It has to be so hard!”  Like everything in life, where there is a will, there is a way. If I can figure it out, anybody can.  Trial and error to find what works and then pass it along to help or inspire others…if you, or someone you love is caring for an IVDD dog, I hope that something above can make the process a bit easier for you!  If you are a foster and considering fostering an IVDD dog – If I can do it, ANYONE can do it and there so are so many dogs out there that need you!

This was one of the most challenging decisions I have made as it was truly a quality of life decision as despite all the odds she had stacked against her, medically on paper, she was as good as she could be and we were all stunned when her most recent bloodwork from Pet Medical Center of Boca came back clean.

Sissie was a fighter and would not let anything stop her. She was an IVDD survivor, paralyzed in her back legs, had a never ending string of UTI’s, was incontinent, she had seizures that we had under control with meds although the siezures had made her go blind, and most recently she had started drinking copious amounts of water at the same time her cognition had taken a sharp turn for the worse.

Despite all of that, she was the most loving girl, and truly earned her nickname of “Kissie Sissie”. She loved to nap (and I owe a debt of gratitude to her Purple Pebble Mats for keeping her dry while she did). We had recently discovered Nina Ottonson Puzzles and they were a huge help to keeping her mentally occupied and she did rounds and rounds of each of her puzzles and never missed a treat, Crispix, or cucumber in them.

She crossed the bridge today enjoying a giant kong stuffed with peanut butter and the rest of the McDonalds French Fries from our dinner of cheeseburgers and fries honoring her last night.

My love and thanks to Dachshund Rescue South Florida for trusting me with her care and making it possible for her to keep going as long as she did, and to Dr. Roof and everyone at PMCB who loved her as much as I did and took such wonderful care of her when I was out of town so much over the last year.

Run free little girl on legs that work and eyes that see. Find the guy in the gray fleece who is likely cursing me for how many dogs he has there. He will take very good care of you – He will just probably not mop as often as I did

Morning is not my jam. I am a 7AM during the week kinda gal, so 5:30 AM = getting up earlier than for work which required 3 alarms, coffee machine programming, clothes ironing the night before, and the setting out of 6 dog bowls, various meds for 4 of my 6 fosters, and the three kinds of foods that make up each feeding for the current foster crew.  I had to meet President Pam at 8AM in SW Broward, a ½ hour drive from my house. There was not a minute to spare. I somehow made it in time, jumped into the Pambulance and off to Miami we went. 

We arrived at the Cargo Facility they dogs were flying to and immediately spotted two other ladies who looked as if they were waiting for dogs too.  A quick “hello” and we learned that they were indeed there to pick up dogs, and one of the two had helped load the dogs in San Juan MUCH earlier that AM and had somehow caught another flight to Miami before the dogs arrived and was here to meet those dogs.  

“Cool”, I thought  “suddenly, getting up at 5:30 doesn’t seem quite so bad.”  It kinda put a little smile on my face that I got to be part of something a little bigger than us making the world a little better of a place. 

And then things got even a little bit cooler – Big Dog Ranch showed up with their bus.  

I had never seen the Big Dog Ranch bus before and as a girl from PA, seeing any sort of large diesel powered motor equipment arrive, graphically wrapped to shout to the world that dogs were being helped was something to put an even bigger smile on my face.  The Big Dog Ranch guy had come down from Loxahatchee, and he was there to get 13 dogs, and then load them in his great big Ford F550 Diesel bus, with the seats taken out, to drive them to safety.  

Pleasantries ensued between everyone waiting, all under the watchful eye of the security of the cargo facility who was protecting the literal red line between “waiting” and “receiving” like a national border and was none too pleased that I had my phone out and was pointing it toward the cargo area ready to stealthily document the process to tell these dogs story to our community. 

Word finally came that our precious cargo was being unloaded and in the blink of an eye, a pallet jack was carrying a pallet with 20+ crates stacked together in a tetris formation, all covered with a cargo net, out to the receiving area.  

In that tetris formation were crates filled with dogs; some alone, some in pairs, of dogs who had literally been rescued in Puerto Rico.  As I watched the dogs come out it occurred to me that these dogs were by people we would never meet, fostered by people we would never meet, who trusted us, this group of people THEY had never met, to give these dogs the chance at a life they deserved, all of whom would likely have been put down in Puerto Rico without rescue.

As I watched, oddly overcome with emotion by the process, my mind raced on about how this whole thing had come together….These sweet souls were stacked on top of each other in crates, literally had zero control of what had happened to them, probably scared out of their mind, and had made this incredible journey via a network of people who only knew and trusted each other via social media, text messages, and the underground network of rescue.  Thanks to that network, this random group of people had arrived at a cargo facility on a Saturday AM in Miami to give of their time and their individual groups resources to save some dogs from Puerto Rico. 

The cargo folks began to break apart the gigantic pallet containing our precious cargo and started bringing out the crates a few at a time.  By some stroke of luck, our two doxies (Later named Albert and Melina) were first off in one crate. We were ready to grab our one crate and get the heck out of there and headed back north to Fr. Lauderdale (as we had to come back to Miami in a few hours to meet another flight!) but then realized the Big Dog Ranch guy was there by himself and was supposed to get 13 dogs so it seemed to be the neighborly thing to do and stay to help.

By the time all was said and done, the Big Dog Ranch guy didn’t have 13 dogs, he had 13 CRATES of dogs coming up to 18 dogs by our count (receiving dogs as part of a larger transport, and confirming if those are your dogs based on a bunch of pictures that may or may not look like the dogs in front of you is a totally different story for another day made all the more fun by the fact that none of the pallet jack guys spoke English….) We helped the Big Dog Ranch guy get his crates loaded into his bus and he was on his way back to Loxatchee and we were on our way back to Ft. Lauderdale.

A drive to Miami, pick up some dogs, drive back north to Ft. Lauderdale. Done and Done. 

On the surface, some people had come to a cargo facility to pick up some dogs from Puerto Rico on a Saturday morning.  In reality, those couple hours of strangers making small talk while waiting on some cargo represented the columation of hours of sacred work by a silent army who works around the clock to make miracles and give 2nd chances to dogs who without that army, have no chance.

From my limited knowledge of how this process works – here is what had to happen to make this all happen….

On the Puerto Rican side, someone found the dogs.  They reached out for rescue to help. The rescue reached out for a foster.  A foster was identified. The dogs were moved to that foster. That rescues fundraisers did something to raise money to vet those dogs.  Those dogs were vetted, quarantined, and issued health certificates. The Puerto Rican rescuers then reached out to their contacts stateside to see who would take the dogs.  Various Florida rescues agreed to take various dogs. A date to send them from PR was coordinated. Tickets were booked. Fosters began that bitter sweet time when you know you are going to have to let a dog go, but you know it is for something better.  Transport was arranged to the airport. Water and food were taped to the crates. Medical certificates were sealed inside plastic envelopes and taped to crates. Dog were loaded. A plane took off.  

On this side a plane landed and was met by people from the various South Florida rescues who had been pre-organized to give up their Saturday mornings to help.  A bus was driven two hours south to meet 13 dogs which turned into 18 dogs. Vet appointments were arranged on this end to welcome the dogs off their flights to be examined. Fosters were lined up on this end to take the dogs when they were medically cleared.  Photos were taken and turned over to the the rescues Social Media and Fundraising people to cover the intake costs of these dogs so that the entire process could happen again to get more dogs out – likely the very next weekend. 

The whole cycle works (somewhat) flawlessly by people who have never met each other and who are not getting paid for any of it to save dogs. 

Those of us who are involved in rescue, we are asked constantly “how can you be involved with rescue?  It has to be so heartbreaking…”  

To us, the question that should be asked is “how could you pass up an opportunity to be involved in something so much greater than you that is fueled 100% on love, compassion, and generosity?”

The answer is you can’t, or at least I can’t.  Even when you have to get up at 5:30 in the morning to do so.