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Samadhi > Dog Blog > Rescue life > To dream the impossible dream

To dream the impossible dream

June 20, 2015 By Kathy

I find it impossible to explain or describe rescue:  Here is my attempt to anyway.  I think about two years have passed since I first started seeing pictures of dogs in shelters appear in my Facebook newsfeed.  I was aggravated.  "CODE RED."  "URGENT"  "SET FOR EUTHANIZATION."  Before then, my use of Facebook was to post (possibly narcissistic) status updates, "connect" with friends from the past and I don't remember what else, because those days are long passed.  It took me a couple of weeks to see what was happening in these pictures, which were now being posted intermittently on my own wall by a graduate of a training I had facilitated.  People were SAVING them.  Well, some of them.  It turns out, that all across the land (and world really) there are people who fight for these animals that they will never meet, the way some of us would fight for food if we were starving. If you think I am exaggerating or am prone to hyperbole, spend some time with us on these threads (posts set up with the pictures of shelter animals) or pm's (personal group messages on Facebook, set up for a particular dog or a particular shelter or rescue).  After all, it is lives that we are fighting for.  Lives that already have been let down (to say the least) by some of our human race.  I rescued my first dog by "accident" and maybe I have already told this story elsewhere:  Tennyson, one of the saddest shelter pictures I have ever seen (also above this post).  He had mange, so much of his black fur was gone.  He was gray skin, patches of red and white, that looked like elbows rubbed raw.  His body was slumped, as if ashamed or out of hope.  Something deep inside of me was touched or torn, I am not sure which.  I couldn't imagine letting this dog believe that humans were capable of such heartlessness that they would let him die there, in that state, with those final impressions of what life had brought him for.  On the thread, a magic word "foster" appeared in one of the comment boxes.  Someone was offering him liberty.  Now he just needed a rescue to back him.  I said that I could do it.  After all, I had a great job, made good money and with a foster, what did I have to lose?  A foster agrees to keep the dog in their home, completely funded by the rescue, if needed (usually the foster pays for food, but even this can be arranged) until the rescue finds the dog a forever home .   So I offered to be his backing rescue, having no real idea what that meant.  I just knew that I wanted this dog to live.  Soon I learned a lesson of rescue:   It isn't in stone- EVER.  The foster refused to have a home check (where someone goes to make sure the home is safe for the dog).  Therefore; no foster.  I was already wise enough to know that "no home check" meant 'no dog'.  But I had already promised and although Tennyson had no way of knowing that I had "claimed" him, we were already bonded in a fight for his life that I refused to lose.  So he was Samadhi's first dog.  Well, there was no Samadhi then (other than the namesake of the rescue, who had already died of Lymphoma at the age of 5).  Cut to two years later and we have rescued around 100 dogs "on our own."  Meaning, these dogs would likely not have made it out of a shelter alive, had we not "claimed" them.  Some of them were essentially snatched from euthanization rooms and lists, letters sent hours before they were to take their last breath.  If there is a typical week, it is photos like the one I featured above this post, of dogs emaciated, abandoned, abused or plain unwanted.  When the luckiest of the bunch are simply "unwanted" and will likely die in a cold frightening room in a shelter (despite their perfection); it is a sad statement indeed of the possibilities of human "nature."  I have had calls about dogs abandoned for weeks in a home after the occupants were expelled.  Left tied up in a back yard, if there was any food or water, it was long gone.  A family pet, by all appearances, still hopeful?  that their family would return after so many nights of loyal cuddling, tail wagging and unconditional loving, possibly the children's dog; what must they have thought as they drove away, leaving the family "pet" in the backyard alone? What did the parents say?  The children, did they feel grief at leaving their best friend, or in those moments did their parent's create another uncaring citizen of earth, only interested in their own wants and needs, no matter how fleeting or how destructive.  Animals found in dumpsters, alive.   Animals dumped in the desert, for coyote food most likely.  During the summer.  The chances of them making it out alive so slim, the possible outcomes so grim, that the mind can only rest on them briefly without howling in misery and despair.  A dog thrown from a balcony because a boyfriend wanted to get back at this girlfriend for doing something that angered him.  A dog with her muzzle taped shut so she could only barely breathe.  Puppies dropped in the heat in a trash can.  Dogs that were used as bait.  Bait.  Like worms are.  Except this kind of bait doesn't get swallowed in one gulp; rather it is tortured, sometimes until it's death, so that other dogs can be tortured by fighting them. So that humans can be "entertained."  And make money.  When people call us the most evolved species, I beg to differ.  Maybe I define evolution differently.  I think we have great reason to be ashamed at what we have become.  Then there are the scores of people that can "no longer keep my dog," for reasons so useless I will fail to give them credibility by spending time to type them out.  I rescue Pit Bulls mostly, so I have given myself an added challenge.  They are, at this time in history, the most misunderstood of "breeds."  They are the ones most often used for fighting and people assume that makes them dangerous.   Though I have never been bit by even one of the nearly 100 Pit Bulls I have rescued, nor even nearly bit, I was recently challenged to the point of  the hair on my body going up by a Dachshund/Jack Russell mix (I know, that's funny- he was the size of a mans 11 shoe, but he lunged at my face from his owner's arms and really frightened me).  My own Boston Terrier bosses my Pit Bull around when he is unmindful enough to give her the chance.  Yes, there are badly behaved dogs of any breed, but Pit Bulls do not outrank other breeds in these types of behaviors and in fact, some argue, their temperaments tend to be generally better than many other types of dog. They do, however, get more scrutiny and bad raps.  I think it is fair to say though, that once you have  had a Pit Bull, you are more likely to rescue Pit Bulls for as long as you live.  Knowing their eventual (almost assured) fate without you and having experienced their absolute loyalty, intelligence, beauty & ability and eagerness to create joy; it seems disloyal not to save another in their name.  As heartbreaking, by nature, as rescue is and will continue to be until some major laws are changed and there are some significant shifts in consciousness; the hardest thing is to say "no," knowing that the odds of a particular dog dying if you can't take them are so high as to make the rescue of any particular dog seem miraculous.  We kill around 4 million a year and it is estimated that only 1 in 600 Pit bulls will ever find their forever home.  I believe the statistic for dogs in general are that only 1 in 60 will make it out of  the "shelters" alive.  What can you do?  I find that caring about some issue without any action is worse than useless.  The way we treat shelter animals and animals in general in this country (and the world) is criminal.  There are  many quotes that can be looked up that speak to, the way a culture treats it's powerless beings, says more about that culture than anything and if this is true, we are failing miserably in any attempt at dignity, grace and compassion for life.  So do something:  Foster a dog.  Be a temporary home (6 months maximum usually- especially if a Pit Bull).  Borrow some joy and serve a being that will give far more back than you are capable of.  Shelter a dog, in the true meaning of the word, that didn't ask to be brought into this world, but surely wants to stay in it as much as you and I.  Protect that dog, because we are their guardians.  They have no one else.  Pay for someone to spay or neuter their dog, if they can't afford to.  Tell people why it matters to spay and neuter (no, your dog doesn't need to have "just one litter."  This year 4 million dogs will die and your litter means; that many older dogs will not have a home to go to).    Encourage people to adopt, not buy from pet shops (which populate themselves almost solely from puppy mills- another horror of human greed and heartlessness).   Donate to a rescue.  I have spent most of my savings on the dogs that I have rescued and the money it takes will continue to exceed the money I make.  Donate to The Samadhi Legacy Foundation and 100% of your donation goes to save lives.  I have said yes to some of the hardest cases, starting with Tennyson and continue to provide excellent care to each dog through to their forever homes (and I am very picky about those).  Adopt a dog yourself.  (We have many great dogs and so does your nearest shelter or rescue).  Make a best friend for life.  Final note:  I have heard many people say that they won't adopt a dog, because they lost one and it was too painful.  Let me ask you this:  What would your dog want you to do?  Tonight, in every place in the world, there are dogs lying in cold and hot shelters.  For many of them, this is their last night on earth.  You can have that be different.  Is there anything greater, than a small act, saving an entire life?  Do something now.  Small or big, do something.  Because doing nothing but feeling sad isn't working.  It never has.   https://samadhilegacy.org/