After reluctantly inheriting a Jack Russell Terrier named Moose from a relative who had passed, we came to absolutely adore his unique personality. We shared our home with him for 5 years, and were devastated when we lost him to cancer. We knew immediately that we couldn’t stand to be without the enormous presence that a 15lb dog can somehow manage to accomplish. Enter Finnegan! Shortly after we lost Moose I found Finnegan on Petfinder. He was a year old, and had been surrendered to a rescue in California. While JRTs are not for everybody, they have been a perfect fit for us. Finnegan manages to have an even bigger personality than our beloved Moose. He never fails to entertain us with his crazy antics , one of which is intently watching TV and recognizing animals who he thinks are just behind that “window,” in the backyard. Finnegan is going to be 10 soon with no signs of slowing down.
This was our L.B. When my daughter and her husband had their first child, my father-in-law impetuously bought them a puppy. He called him Lucky Boy or L.B. for short. He was a crazy, wild little six week old Chow and Golden Lab Mix. My daughter's yard was very large where he could run amok all he wanted. And boy did he want. But he was a sweetie. And if he came up to you, all he wanted to do was teethe and chew on you. He gnawed the bottoms of more than one pair of my Levi's, and was completely incorrigible in that manner. That's when my son-in-law jokingly renamed him Little Bastard, but he was still L.B. for short. He grew into a 95 pound, low-slung golden with a Chow's tongue and a head 3 sizes too big for his body. He was fiercely loyal and protective, but if he knew you, he was friendly and loving. And if you were introduced to him, that's all it took for him to accept you. He was raised with cats and they all got along as well. When my daughter and son-in-law split up, L.B. found his new home with my father-in-law and mother-in-law for a few years until my father-in-law passed and my mother-in-law needed to move into assisted living. At that point, he came to live with me and my family. He was with us for the last six years of his life. He used to terrorize my wife, playfully running around our yard, chasing all manner of imaginary somethings. But as he began to age, he slowed down some. He was a wonderful Lover Boy (still L.B.) and we loved him dearly. As he reached his eleventh year, he was diagnosed with a slowly debilitating form of cancer. Over time, he couldn't take the long walks we had taken every day. The walks became shorter and shorter and eventually, he reached the point where could barely get off the floor. We helped him over the Rainbow Bridge just before his twelfth year. He had lived a number of places, but always with the family that so loved him and that he so loved and protected. We will always love and miss our L.B., whatever the initials stood for.
Poochie's human Mom was very ill, and all she wanted was for him to find a Furever home before she passed. I was a Foster Mom and got drawn in by the caption "Make her dying wish come true." I was told Poochie had completely shut down and would not relate to anyone in the shelter. I asked if I could help and was told "come on by and meet him." I took Poochie home, and left him to relax in my master bath. I wanted him to be comfortable before I made an attempt to bring him out of his crate. The next day, I decided to take the cover off so I wouldn't have to pull him out. When I reached in to pick him up, he held on and wouldn't let go! He became very attached to me and let me know in every way, he wanted to stay. I had promised my husband, no more "failed fosters." I continued to love Pooch and bring him to adoption events. After the first one, he reverted back to his "shelter mode." I was encouraged by the other foster moms to continue to bring him, he would come around. That first night, when we got home after the event, he ran into the bedroom and hid under the bed, something he never did before. In the middle of the night he came into bed with me and showed me how desperate he was to stay. I wanted to keep my promise to my husband, so I continued to bring Poochie to the adoption events. He continued to hide and not have anything to do with anybody! They asked me if I wanted to leave him at Petsmart, where it was a quiet environment where the volunteers took a lot of time to get to know the adoptees. He'll come around, they said. I felt terrible leaving him but thought it best to give him a chance. After a week went by, I went to visit. He was no where to be seen! I asked "Where's Poochie"? They said 'he's hiding under the bed, we didn't have any luck bringing him around." I decided he belonged with me! I was going to take him home for good! With my husband's blessing, I did. We made it official and Poochie, now known as Henry James, came home with me for good! I could see him peeking out to see if it was for real, he has been the best behaved and loving cat that I've ever known! Sometimes you just have to accept what's meant to be, and Henry James was meant to be with us - and we're living "Happily ever after!"
We adopted Sammy from a local rescue group. The posting indicated he would be best placed in a home with other dogs. No problem, we had 2 already and he would be our third. Turns out, he came from a home he shared with 27 other dogs. It took time for him to trust, but now he follows me everywhere. He is loyal and accepts other dogs and cats who come through our doors. At 13 years old, he finds stairs difficult, but prefers to take them himself without any help from me. He walks through our neighborhood with a spring in his step.
We were going to visit friends in Charleston, SC. We stopped to have lunch at a Mexican restaurant, and only God knows why, I boxed up my leftover fajitas to take with us. It was not a normal thing to do since we were on vacation, and still had 6 hours to drive. In just a few minutes we came to a “T” on a very busy road. As we made our turn, something caught my eye coming out of a storm drain. It was a tiny grey kitten, and he was so close to the dump trucks speeding down the road. I pulled over and coaxed him out of the drain with.... wait for it... the fajitas! The big trucks and speeding cars were so close as I was trying to get him, it was only a matter of time before he would have been roadkill. There were no houses in the area, so we knew he was on his own. We took him with us to Charleston, fully intending on taking him to a shelter. I already had 2 cats. Before we turned him over to the shelter, we decided to spend the money for the vet to ensure he was healthy enough (you see where this is going, don’t you?) The vet said he was about 7 weeks old and only 2 days from starvation, and had the worst case of ear mites he had ever seen, but not a flea on him! So with all the strength I could muster, we turned him into the shelter.... Nah, we brought him home (see, you did see that coming). That was almost 9 years ago. For about 2 years he would go absolutely crazy when it came feeding time because of his near starvation. The vet said he may never get over it. He still is very vocal when I am preparing his food, but he trusts us enough to know he will not go hungry ever again. He is a hot mess, and we love him. You think we would have named him Fajita, or Stormy (he is all grey, and was in a storm drain), but the name “Road” just seemed to fit.
This poor little guy was born in my friend's shed and somehow a paint can tipped over and he laid in it. He was only three weeks old when I found him, but I knew if I didn't rescue him, he wouldn't survive. I took him to the vet, who told me to bring him back in a week so his hair could grow a little longer. I hand fed him every 3 hours that week, and tried to pick off some of the paint to no avail. When the week was up, I took him back to the vet, who shaved him to get the paint off. His name was originally "Picasso", which we thought very appropriate considering his start in life. However, when he meowed, he sounded just like a mosquito flying by so we changed his name to "Skeeter Bug". He also had a fetish for paper towels, so we had to hide them from him for the first two years. He's over his addiction now, because we can leave them out without fear of him attacking them! We love our beautiful SOLID BLACK boy, who is now 10 years old. Even though he had a traumatic start in life, he's become a very handsome and loving fur baby.
March 10,2019 a lady was visiting a cemetery in North Alabama. She went to throw away dead flowers from her mother's grave in the dumpster. When she looked in she saw what she thought was a dog statue. When she threw the flowers in the dog moved. She and her husband were horrified and worried for the little wet dog and called the police. The officer who answered the call climbed in the dumpster and saved the dog. The dumpster was not full of trash but water from the recent rains and it was cold weather. The lady took the cold wet small dog home and called a friend who works with our local rescue. I was contacted and asked to get the dog and foster him. I met the finder at 7 pm that evening to get the poor dog from the dumpster. We named him Chico. Getting Chico home and washed and checked over was first order of business. He is a small Chihuahua looking fellow. He had hurt his eye on something during the ordeal and was obviously shook up. The next day I took him to the local animal services to have him scanned of a microchip and place a found report so incase someone was looking for him they would know where he was. He went to the vet and got looked over. His eye was damaged and caused a corneal ulceration, he was put on oral antibiotics and eye medications. After a few days of that treatment he had his teeth cleaned, which were rather nasty and smelly. He has a large cyst removed from neck, and they made plasma drops from his blood to treat his eye injury. Chico has been aged to be around 10 yrs old and weighs 9 pounds. He has a trusting personality despite his ordeal. His stray hold expired with no one claiming him. He is now in the Friends of Rescue group and is my foster dog. He is ready to find a forever home to retire in. He is a pleasant boy who is quiet, enjoys following his people around, getting petted on the head and carried around if you go on an outing. You can adopt him from our group. Friends of Rescue.
Tiger was dumped in our neighborhood almost 15 years ago. My daughter began taking him food at the apartments up the road from our house. We already had an indoor cat and I didn't want another one. But we would see this very small cat lying in the road or in other unsafe spots and worried about it. About three days after my daughter started feeding Tiger he showed up in our backyard, peering through the sliding glass door at Sam, who didn't seem bothered to see him. We had another cat! We took him to the vet, found out he was at least a year and a half old, judging by his teeth. He went from less than 8 lbs to almost 16 lbs in six months, with access to unlimited food! On a diet ever since! Sam is gone now and Tiger is king.
My Dear Friend Joni in Cozumel got a call to rescue a kitten less than 24 hours old. Some kids were trying to drown her in a puddle. The umbilical cord was still attached. My friend went out and picked her up. She took her home and bottle fed her until she was strong enough to eat Ferrell. She was white, therefore named Miss Snow. I think she was destined for Canada with that name. I was looking for a Siamese cat and I got this beautiful kitten all the way from Cozumel. I thank Joni and the people who helped bring her to Canada for me. She is full grown now, much darker and very feisty. She even climbs walls.
The year was 2005. One day there was an all-black cat at my back door meowing. While he didn't look hungry, I fed him anyway. Meanwhile, I already had 3 cats of my own. As I was putting the food out for this all black cat, I hear another cat crying under my car. I look to see the cutest little orange and white cat so I fed him too. However, this little guy was not as brave as his friend. He wouldn't come out until I left the area. Come to find out, the all black cat was a neighbors cat who just wanted a free meal and the little orange and white cat was indeed a stray. So it happened I made sure I fed this little guy every day. I was in touch with Hull Animal Rescue and we made plans to have him trapped and neutered. I went to visit him while he was at the vet but he just hissed and spit at me, and clearly was not happy to be locked up. I asked if he could be socialized and they said no. They said he had been a stray for at least 1-2 years and was too wild to be socialized. They said they would release him back to my house and I could continue to feed him. Luckily for me, I had an enclosed back porch with heat and I had a cat door installed for this little guy I now called "Sweetie-Boy". Every morning I would open the back door to put his food and water out and he would purr when he saw me and the food coming. Little by little, he let me in the same space as him and soon he was brushing up against my legs as if to ask to be petted. Then you guessed it, I was able to pet him. Then I was able to sit with him. Then I was able to introduce my cats to him. Then he became a permanent part of our family and never returned to the outdoors. It took a little while but he turned into the most gentle little guy. We had many wonderful years together and he was happy at home with me and his furry friends. I lost Sweetie-Boy last year to cancer. He entered into my life in 2005 and left this world in 2018, but will remain forever in my heart.