Let the Strong Survive?

Yes. I heard him correctly. A cavalier statement until your child, spouse, or parent fall ill. And yourself? Will you promise not to reach out for help if you need it yourself? Is your attitude limited to the current situation – or does it carry over to cancer, heart disease, childbirth, and more? I am concerned for a world where this kind of thought takes hold.

These are times that test our humanity. And I am grateful to be surrounded by people who regard the aged, sick, and vulnerable with concern and compassion – for humans and animals alike. Without them, there would be no Remington.

A giant of a Golden boy who had been hit by a car. His fractured leg was minor compared to the enormous loss of skin and threat of infection.

His was a case no other rescue would or could take on. But Remington was welcomed by us where his enormously expensive twice-daily, wound-honey bandage changes saved his leg and his life.

At the three-month marker, he is halfway through his healing process –

and finally approved for walks and off-leash time in the yard.

His gratitude and capacity for love are as great as his size. A world without Remington would have been a loss for all.

There would be no Kobe. A big, goofy, Labrador Retriever with a mast cell tumor on his foot.

Hospice would have been one route, but because the metastasizing cancer was still limited to his leg, we opted for amputation to give Kobe a chance at a long, happy life.

His new family cannot imagine life without him.

There would be no Orbit.

This boy came to us recently with a broken jaw. Shelters are overrun now under even more pressure from this damned virus. They do not have the resources to house, much less treat, dogs like Orbit. He stood no chance there. Thankfully, he came to us and underwent surgery to repair his jaw. It will take eight weeks of special care to make him whole again, but the affection he displays is worth every bit of effort. Some waiting family will be grateful that he was saved.

And we would not have known and loved Violet.

Violet lived with us in sanctuary for over a year at the request of her human who could no longer care for himself or her. At the age of 13, with countless maladies, should he have left her behind to fend for herself or dumped her at a shelter to die alone? She – and he – found peace in our care. And when the time came to say ‘goodbye’ – we were by her side. A promise kept.

A garden ruled by your philosophy would be overrun by strong-arm weeds. Gardens thrive through nurturing and care of the hardy and the delicate.

You’re strong. Great. Save yourself. By opening your heart, reaching out, and showing compassion for others because without our humanity – we are nothing.

In My Dream

In my dream, I hear the sounds of thunder. Growling, gnarling, teeth gnashing in a battle to ensure each has their own. Looting and hoarding. Sounds of terror and squeals of alarm. Intimidation and threats. Bodies slammed to the ground.

Awakened. The sounds continue; the smell is unbearable.
Is this our end?
No. It is puppies at play!

Ferocious cubs. Testing out their tiny voices and might on the early path to doghood.

Four Great Pyrenees puppies to be exact.

They invaded our home when their devoted mom had finally had enough of them. When she packed their bags, they were cute little fluff balls. Now they are growing like little monsters – consuming their enclosure – desperate to get out and play.

This is Adele’s litter.

Born in a field. Found by a good Samaritan. Frighteningly, taken to a shelter where the threats that lurk are as great as the elements and predators: diseases.

We whisked them away.

Jody, our leader, kept mama and her babies isolated and closely guarded for their first fragile weeks – protected against dogs and humans with their germy cargo. Life-saving protections.

They thrived.

They exceeded mom’s patience.

And they pushed the cuteness scale off the charts – along with their weights.

They are endlessly poopy, smelly, bundles of fur – so fat, they waddle and are easily tipped by the big dogs.

They are all being treated for icky poo…leaving a trail of sticky footprints wherever they wander…and a mountain of laundry.

Chaos reigns in our home.

My husband loves them dearly but has made clear: four puppies with liquid poo – too much for future reference! (As if!)

Soon, they will be well and ready to go home – and it will be quiet again.

For now, they are a welcome if exhausting diversion from the days’ news and a reminder of all that is still sweet, joyful, and filled with hilarity and tomorrow’s hopes.

And we could all use a little of that right now.

Getting Our Feet Under Us

Mother Nature has been taunting us. Sending daytime temps soaring, then blowing in a light freeze. To boot – a bone-dry, record-breaking February. Not a drop of rain.

As I undertake the annual editing of Asters, I’m glad that I moved summer-blooming perennials in the fall. Apparently, there is an old gardener saying that this helps them get their feet under them.

Someone else needed some help getting her feet under her. Her name is Babe. And she stole my heart.

Babe was destined for China’s dog meat market. Having been used to raise puppies for three years, she was loaded onto a truck with dozens of other dogs and shipped off. Brave activists literally stop these trucks on the highway in confrontations that can get ugly. While eating dogs is not illegal in China, the (barbaric) slaughter of animals without health certificates is. Still, officials look the other way and let these warriors of heart fight it out themselves. Thankfully, Babe’s rescuers were successful. She and many more were pulled from the truck and taken to a shelter where they were quarantined and tested, receiving required vaccinations and health certificates as they waited for a chance at a real life.

Dogs like Babe don’t get adopted in China. It is illegal to keep a dog her size in the city, and there is a bias against anything “used.”

She is a timid girl. Submissive and frightened in new environments. All of this was a lot for her. She arrived in early January with a group of dog and spent another two weeks in communal quarantine where I was one of her caregivers.

At the beginning, she had to be lifted out of her kennel to the yard. She is extremely thin, but her frame is large and heavy.

Over the course of the two weeks, she went from crawling and cowering to full-on play with the group.

When she left the safety of her quarantine for the kennels, it was a setback for her. So she was moved to the senior yard where she lived and thrived in the company of other dogs.

Babe reminds me of our Boris…another one from China.

We weren’t sure he would make it that first morning after his late night arrival. Finding the right home made all the difference. He came by for a photo shoot recently; the transformation is hard to believe.

This is what love will do.

Babe needed a home like Boris’. A loving, patient and quiet home – providing time and stability so she could get her feet under her and learn the ways of a loved family dog.

We found that for Babe recently. And the family says she is blossoming – just like Boris and the plants I moved last fall.