Pawfect Match Rescue

A little raised tail

2011-03-08T20:47:00.002-05:00

"Funny, something as little as a raised tail could make us all so happy."

Aida said that about Maui's happy tail being raised above her body in that characteristic half moon curve. The sign of a happy husky.

I noticed the same thing in another husky just the other day. Little Perseus had raised his little bottle-brush of a fluffy husky tail, a sign of happiness, but more importantly, a sign of having found his inner Siberian Husky.

As does many of our stories, this one starts with an email. An animal shelter we have worked with in the past contacted us about pulling two Siberian Huskies that they received as strays. One was a red and white pup that they had seen before, and was not in good shape - malnourished, losing his hair. The other was a black and white boy, older, maybe 2 or 3 years old - healthy. Both boys were long haired, what we call 'woollies'. We responded that we were full at the moment, but wanted to be kept informed.

Well, only two days later, they told us that the pup had had a major 'blow out', bad diarrhea and vomiting, and that he tested strongly positive for parvo (canine parvovirus type 2, very deadly for puppies). The shelter was going to put him down. Worse, they were going to euthanize the older guy too, just because he was exposed. Even though adults almost NEVER succumb to parvo.

Aida did not hesitate. After securing my agreement, she told them we would take both dogs. It was not good timing for me, as my day was planned from opening to close with meetings and calls. But we got transport arranged, and I found the time to meet Heather to take them on to our vet. The big guy was easy, even if he had that awful shelter stink. The pup, though, was pitiful. I had seen this before, and I really did not know if he would even make it to the vet.

He did make it to the vet. I handed him over, limp and full of mange and worms, thinking I would never see him again. I do that - prepare for the worst - so when the bad news comea the impact is lessened.

Later that day the vet confirmed that it was parvo, and they had him hooked up. Fluids, antibacterials, anti-emetics, anti-diarrheals, supplemental nutrition. I gritted my teeth. and expected the worse.

Next morning, I called, and held my breath. He was still with us. Really? Wow, I did not expect that, and I was elated. Cautiously. Later that day the vet told us that his white blood cell count was 124. Normal is 8,000 or so. WBC of 124 pretty much means no immune system. Any bacteria could take hold and it would be over, fast and ugly.

But the next morning he was still with us. And the next. And the next. Aida decided his name was Perseus. He was certainly heroic, and proving to be invincible. Perseus spent 8 days with the vet before convincing us he was ready for his foster home.

What a horribly unattractive mess he was. And stinky too. Aida must have given him four baths in his first two days home, and cut almost all of his matted fur off. Well, what was left of it - he was eaten up with mange (the non-contagious version). His face and butt and parts of his back, belly, and legs were pink and scabby, even bleeding in some places. He looked like a baboon, actually.

He walked with a hunched back, tail down, head down. He was clearly not happy, and did not eat well. He was still vomiting. We took him back the vet a few times, got his belly shaved for ultrasounds, and finally got him eating again. Another vet got him started with ivermectin for the mange, and antibiotics for his skin infections.

We've been here before, we know it takes months to get the hair back, and get the nutrition back. Perseus was growly - heck, I would be too if I felt that bad. Still, he only growled at the other dogs - he loved his humans. He showered us with kisses and love. It was clear that he had zero social skills. He was going to have to learn how to be a member of the pack. Probably the hard way too.

Day by day, Perseus got a little more engaged. First following tentatively, then engaging some of the other boys, and Mika the young female sibe, in single play. After a few more days, he joined in the group play, if just a little, and for short bursts.

Then I saw it. It was time for the 9:00 AM runfest. Every morning the sibe pack runs back and forth in the back yard, around the trees, and back and forth some more. Punctuated with periodic play tussles. And I did see it. A little red and white baboon-looking siberian pup, running with the pack. With his tail up! That foxlike bottlebrush red and white tail was up in the air, telling everyone who could see it that he had found his inner husky.

The stink is still there, and it will be until the mange and infections are all healed. A light coat of fuzz is now covering most of the angry pink, so he looks less like a baboon, and more like, well, just pitiful. But the Husky is out - he has the prance, the proud walk, the curiosity, the playfulness, the periodic bursts of full out running and leaping, and yes, the little raised tail. He even joins in the daily howlfests! Perseus is one happy, happy siberian husky.

Welcome to huskyhood, Perseus!

A bittersweet Passing

2011-03-08T07:12:00.002-05:00

It was about two years ago when we received the kind of call that fills us with excitement, and with dread. The call was asking us to join our friend and collaborator Dawne from Southern Siberian Rescue (SSR) to help with dozens of Siberian Huskies being seized from a neglect case in Greenville, SC. Excitement, because it is a challenge to rise to, and lots of lives to save. Dread, because you cannot know how many of the dogs will be more challenge than you can handle.

We took several pups, as this is normally the arrangement with SSR - they take the adults, we take the pups and preggers. But after a couple of days, Dawne asked if we could take on one more. She had a girl that was just terrified, and needed special attention, and she just did not have the environment to help this poor girl.

Enter Maui.

Maui was as pretty as they come. Not that that moment, mind you, she took some cleaning up. But white, off-white, and a sprinkling of tan and black down her back. Beautiful, deep brown eyes. Eyes that showed terror and fear from who knows what, but clearly years of improper handling and neglect. No one knew her age, but by her teeth and physiology, we guessed 5-8 years.

Maui hid. That is what she did. She was terrified of people, and particularly of men. Of course, we tried to give her every comfort, and encouraged her to socialize with our pack. We were patient.

It took almost four months for Maui to walk up to Aida, on her own volition, and ask for some lovin'. Of course, it was happily given, and you could even detect a bit of tail wagging. She ducked for cover as soon as I was within sight, but every day got a little better. Aida and I agreed that Mau-Mau would likely never be adopted, and that was OK. And, no, Mau-Mau has nothing to do with the Kenyan uprising, it is a habit I have with all of our fosters (Blue Blue, Stan Stan, and so on).

Maui tested positive for heartworms, and that is so hard on huskies. When they start feeling better from the treatments, they want to run. And exercise while undergoing hearworm treatment can kill a dog. Try keeping a husky still. Well, Maui cooperated. Unfortunately, it in part because she had persistent lung congestion and infection. When wee took her for X-rays of the lungs, we also discovered that she had most of the contents of a shotgun shell in her legs, shoulder, and chest. We cried for her past, and smiled hoping for her happy, healthier, future.

It was about the time that Maui would not run away every time I cam into a room that Beau and Jerry came over to meet Maui. They had adopted a Sibe from us earlier, one that was similar, but a little darker, in appearance. Keena was definitely not shy, though, like Maui. The one thing I remember most is that Maui did not react to Jerry, and especially to Beau, the way she had initially to us, and especially me. They fell in love, and decided to make Maui a member of their family. We were elated for Maui!

Beau and Jerry set her up like a queen, with the Cadillac of crates, special beds, and all of the love any dog could ask for. They continued with her pneumonia treatments. She went through the same cycle with them, eventually warming up to Jerry and tolerating Beau's presence. They installed a doggy door so she could 'escape' from the humans and romp happily with her pack mates. Something Aida said struck a chord with me, commenting on how Maui played with her canine brothers and sisters: "Funny, something as little as a raised tail could make us all so happy." She was a happy, healthy, girl.

Except that she wasn't entirely healthy. The labored breathing remained a problem, and she was in and out of the vet with congested lungs, taking stronger and stronger antibiotics and even steroids. Finally, on day, the vet decided to dig further, and took a biopsy, since she was just not responding and staying clear. Everyone's worst nightmare came back with those results. Cancer. Lung Cancer and it was not operable.

We cried a lot. It was not fair.

Jerry and Beau gave Maui every luxury, the treatments and meds, and more love than any dog could ever hope for. She had bad days, and she had good days.

A couple of days ago, Maui crawled under the house, and would not come out. When they did get her out, she was clearly distressed. Of course, it was the weekend, after hours. They took Maui to Banfield, where they knew some of the staff. Her temperature was 107, and she was vomiting and pooping black - which means lost of blood. It was very likely that the cancer has eaten through into her abdomen, and that she was now septic, with infection in the blood. There was nothing that could be done other than make her comfortable. One and a half liters of sub-Q fluids and lots of antibiotics, anti-emetics, and intestinal coating meds later, covered with ice packs, they took her home.

Jerry slept with Maui on their big comfy chair, Maui laying on ice packs, and covered in them, to keep the fever down. Maui cried once, and settled back down. In the morning, I helped Jerry take Maui to the vet that had helped her from the beginning. She was calm, although breathing was difficult. She was getting all the love that three people could pour out through petting, talking, and swelling hearts.

Monday morning Maui Hodge passed calmly into sleep, and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. We will forever bear scars on our hearts from her pain and her passing, and will forever be uplifted by the memories of her playing with the pack, and showing with beaming eyes that finally got it - dem hoomins ain't so bad.

Thank you, Jerry and Beau, for giving Maui the best fourteen months any dog could hope for. Thank you.

Are you ready to RUMBLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE?

2011-01-09T07:56:00.002-05:00

There are many, many reasons to sit and watch a litter of puppies. Or sit AMONG a pile of puppies. Watching them change, sometimes daily, is a treasure. And, it is a different treasure with each litter. I've mentioned before that I believe every child, of every age from 5 to 85, should observe a litter being born. Even help, if possible. It changes you. For the better.

At Pawfect Match Rescue we do not adopt our puppies out until at least 7 weeks of age, but we strongly prefer 8 weeks of age. There is some play/bite learning that puppies learn with each other during that time that is very important for their development. If the pups do not learn that lesson, they tend to not have enough inhibition when they play-bite other animals or people. This is more often a failure of humans - of fosters - than of the pups.

However, it becomes VERY difficult to properly manage an entire litter of pups once they get past about five weeks. They are weaned by then, and at least half-way through the "wading in the mush" stage of feeding. And the POOP. Oh. My. Goodness. The poop and pee everywhere. Momma is no longer eating the puppy's poopies, because you're separating her from the pups to wean them and dry up her milk. So, we typically dole the litter out in 2s and 3s to our foster homes. Two or three pups are more manageable, and they still have each other to play with, learn from/with, and chew on.

This morning, the litter of 8 pups at my house (Olive's crew) turn six weeks old. They started screaming for their food and water before Aida and I were ready to face the day. Fair enough - they get their morning treatment at 5:30 during weekdays, and their tummy alarms do not change for the weekend. And today is Sunday.

After getting two bowls of kibble and two bowls of fresh water down for them, I cleaned up the pee pads and the poop that was not on the pads, replaced the pads, and sat down to share some love. It is very warming, and cool (ironically), to have a swarm of living things running up to you, and all over you, full of love and givings kisses. Until they start chewing on anything they can get hold of. The robe, not so much a problem. The soft flesh of my thigh near the knee - yeah, that hurts. But still, I can keep most of the 8 focused on my hands and face, savoring the wafting puppy breath.

What struck me this morning, though, happened after I climbed out of the pen. One or two of the maniacs had decided that one of the pee pads needed to be moved, then shredded. Others joined in. Then one of them, doing their best DeNiro "You talkin ta me?" in response to a growl, jumped on another with ferocity and vigor. Well, as much as playful pups muster, anyway. What ensued was a free-for-all puppy rumble! One or two sat off to the side watching, maybe chewing on something else or drinking a little, but they usually found an opening and reason to jump in.

To my uncanine eyes, I could not make out any sides. It was like each pup was on its own, and alliances formed and evaporated almost instantaneously. After a couple of minutes, momma and two of my foster huskies were sitting next to me, watching the debacle. Momma, I am sure, wanted to intervene, and the huskies, I am more sure, wanted to join in. I can't blame them, there were some fancy moves going in there. I know I saw at least two Death From Above (r) maneuvers - and I would have sworn in court that these puppies are incapable of flight. Some of the rearing and charging made me imagine them with tiny steeds, plate mail armor, a lance, and a maiden's favor involved. Yes, I have an overactive imagination....

They sure seemed to be having a glorious time of it! After a few more minutes, the rumble finally petered out, and most went about other diversions. Two pairs of pups continued to chew on each other, but more prone than airborne. The best proof that they had a good time? No more than eight minutes after the fracas started, eight out of eight pups are sleeping on the various dog beds, and as usual, one pile of four, one pile of three, and one sleeping by himself near the food. THAT is a happy, sated, pile of pups.

Until their tummies wake them, to pee, poop, and eat and drink again. An play. Play, play, play. Are you ready to RUMBLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE?

They're just dogs, right?

2010-11-23T10:12:00.002-05:00

We're about to travel for the holidays, a short trip flying within the USA. Which has me thinking about the TSA scanning/patdown issue. If you watch any news at all you cannot have avoided this - the anecdotes, the hyperbole, the lies, the statements of policy, and I am sure there's some truth in there somewhere.

What strikes me the most is the incredible amount of energy and resources being spent, and by some arguments the rights that we are giving up (see Fourth Amendment to the US Constitution), for absolutely no positive outcome beyond the Theater of Security. TSA's measures have been responses, not proaction, to various failed attempts to harm American travelers and aircraft. Shoes, then pat downs, now full body scans. As one comedian said recently, they tried to assassinate a Saudi ambassador by putting an explosive device in nether regions - so, body cavity searches next? Fortunately the would be assassin died, and the ambassador was only slightly injured. The sad truth is that NONE of the new measures in place today would have stopped the 9/11 attacks. Not one. Did you know that the personnel who service the plane - food, gas, cleaning, supplies, etc - do NOT got through those security procedures?

So why rant about this in a dog rescue blog? Well, because of the energy that is put into a completely ineffective and highly obtrusive program. Contrast that to the years-long effort, that has been thwarted every year, to strengthen the laws in NC that deal with animal cruelty, with preventing puppy mills, that deal with hording and neglect, that push for spay/neuter and responsible breeding laws, and that beg for humane euthanization of companion animals in our shelters. The opponents are loud and effective - they decry the gubment intruding in their bidness. Two powerful men continually thwart these effort every year, by lying to pig farmers that any such legislation will affect them (because animal welfare, including companion animals, is an affair of the Department of Agriculture), and by playing the TwoFace card with no embarrassment (the man in charge of the Ag Dept area of animal welfare sells gas-based euthanization equipment and makes bank on teaching shelters how to use them - Conflict of Interest anyone?).

We spend billions as a nation putting Security Theater into play, intruding on our rights with searches without probable cause, and most security experts agree that it provides practically no additional protection. However, we cannot muster the humanity to pass legislation that will stop the problems that lead to thousands of dogs having to be rescued from cruel neglect and puppy mill slave status, and that lead to millions of dogs and cats being euthanized - gassed to death - in shelters every year. Every year. Millions.

They're just dogs, right?

This one I just don't get... greed, maybe?

2010-11-14T10:11:00.002-05:00

One of the ladies who used to volunteer with PMR called us earlier this week about 6 German Shepherd Dogs (GSDs) about six months old that were coming into a shelter with what was almost certainly canine parvovirus, or "parvo". Parvo is deadly to puppies, especially if they have not been getting their immune system booster vaccinations, or DHPP (distemper, hepatitis, parvovirus, parainfluenza). Typically, puppies are fully vaccinated by four months of age, and out of danger from parvo.

Seeing pups with parvo in shelters is, unfortunately, not too uncommon. What makes this one just baffling is that the owner of these pups claims to have whelped them from AKC registered parents. When they got sick, he decided he could not or would not pay for their veterinary care, which for six pups could be in the low thousands depending on the vet.

Our former volunteer wanted to know if we would take them in and try to save their lives. Well, our president is a huge fan of GSDs, and we did not hesitate, we said yes. We made arrangements with a GSD breed-specific rescue in the area to take two of the pups, and we picked them up and started the fluids (it was after normal business hours, so we put them on fluids until the vet could take them in the morning). We got them to the vet, who put them on IV fluids, broad spectrum antibiotics, and minor nutritional supplements. Sadly, one of the pups passed that afternoon.

So far, the others are hanging on. A couple of them are still in a very fragile state, with an almost negligible white blood cell count. Prayer is what may be keeping them with us at this point.

What I cannot fathom is why someone would breed AKC registered GSDs and choose to not vaccinate the pups. It is maybe a couple of hundred dollars for all six. Other than a level of ignorance that is hard to accept, the only explanation that makes sense to us is greed. And now one gorgeous pup is dead, two are barely hanging on, the three more are still in danger.

PMR will do what it takes to keep these pups alive, and find them new happy forever homes. It will be expensive. If you have the wiggle room, or know others who do, please consider contributing to their fund. Their pictures are on our website, www.pawfectmatch.org.

Poor Boy... Happy Boy!

2010-11-11T21:16:00.002-05:00

The story goes that there were something like twelve pups running loose, and no one could catch them. Well, Animal Control caught one of them, because he had an injured foreleg, but we never saw the rest again.

Vaughn was a cute little beige hound mix, extremely loving, very playful. But his front right paw did not work. He could not extend it at all. The vets said that he was likely hit by a car, and the nerves that control paw flexion were pull away from the spinal cord. Sometimes they heal on their own, a millimeter a month. We decided to give him three months to see if his nerves reconnected.

That was a daily chore. Changing gauze bandages and wrapping with stretch wrap, and putting a booty on it to protect it and keep it dry. Sometimes he would chew the wrappings off, but most often they just came off from his incessant playing. All it took was some playing on the patio concrete for 20 minutes and he had a new hole worn into his numb paw. It got bad one night, and required some repair and stitches. We worked extra hard after that to keep the paw protected.

He did use that leg, and even the paw to some extend. He just could not extend the paw, and seemed to have no feeling in it at all.

So, last week, we took Gimpy in - yes, we call him Gimpy now - for his neuter. We all decided that the nerves were not coming back, so we agreed to get that useless paw out of the way while he was under. Dr. Monce did a great job, and the wounds have healed nicely.

Practically everyone who sees him says "Awww, poor boy!" But I will tell you, he is one VERY happy dog. He chases Randi the Australian Cattle Dog mix around the back yard with NO problems. He can dig a hole, a deep hole, about as fast as any dog I've ever seen dig a hole. He shoots right up the steps and down again. He even climbs onto Aida's desk with not fear.

You will be very hard pressed to find a happier, more loving dog, than Vaughn the Gimp. No Poor Boy about it, he is one Happy Boy!

It's time for Dogtoberfest again!!

2010-10-21T21:24:00.002-04:00

Yes, it's that time again. Great weather, beautiful surroundings, lots of wonderful vendors, rescues, demonstrations, and lovely neighbors and dogs. Irritating dog-themed music. Yummy baked goods, hotdogs, and drinks. It's the Fifth Annual Dogtoberfest!

Come on out to Harris Lake County Park from 11:00 AM to 3:00 PM for the fun, and bring your furkids too! We will have a microchip clinic, a raffle, costume contest, lots of other contests like owner-dog look-alike, best trick, and others. Show off your rescue dog in the Parade of Rescues!

It should be a wonderful time, and the forecast could not be better. Come on out and enjoy Dogtoberfest with us!

Sponsored by Purina's Rally to Rescue program and Wake County.

Wazzit?

2010-08-13T16:34:00.002-04:00

One of the true joys of working with dog rescue is coming up with names. Names for new pups and dogs, and names for new breeds... uh, mutts.

We have had dogs named after scientists, beers, TV show characters, Peanuts(r) characters, literary characters, everyone-in-the-group-name-starts-with-the-same-letter, and - I kid you not - one litter that was so flea infested when we got them that they and their mother received the name 'flea' but each one in a different language. Siberian Husky litters often get Inuit, Native American, or Japanese names. We even use a Book of Baby Names and a Book of Dog Names when we're stumped.

But the mix breeds, that can be fun. First, what the heck is it? Sometimes we know, sometimes it is easy to guess. Sometimes we're just "what the ...?" Of course, everyone knows the popular ones: puggle, maltipoo, labraddodle, goldendoodle, and so on. My favorite current special blend is Fermi, our 'Chug". That is Chihuahua/Pug, cuz Pahua just did not feel right...

But we're getting some new ones that just beg for a new name. Momma was a Siberian Husky, dad was a Great Dane.

So what ARE these pups? Sane Duskies? Great Siberians? Siberian Danes? Griberian Hanes? Bolshoi Danes? Gruskies? Marmadookskis? Scooby Dooskis?

For now, we've settled, I think, on SiberDanes.

Wha, you got somethin better? Bring it.

Know your breed

2010-08-08T11:25:00.002-04:00

You may or may not be keeping track of the Bear-Bear tragedy (just search for Bear-Bear, you'll find it), but in a nutshell, an off-duty officer shot and killed a Siberian Husky in a dog park, claiming that Bear-Bear was attacking his dog. Witnesses say differently, and subsequent evaluation showed no evidence that either he or his dog were hurt in any way, not even a scratch. The Anne Arundel police department has re-opened the case, so perhaps justice will be found for Bear-Bear's family.

What this got me thinking about was how this horrible tragedy even happened. Leaving aside whether the officer should have ever drawn, much less fired, his weapon, the main thought that came to me was that he misunderstood the play, based on breed. Witnesses say that Bear-Bear was just playing with the officer's German Shepherd, in a way that is typical of Huskies. Aye, therein lies the rub...

Siberian Huskies are very active and noisy when they play. To the casual observer, with no history with Sibes or behavior evaluation, you'd think they were shredding each other. They love to jump on and over each other, lots of teeth showing, and all kinds of WOOs and YIPs. If you watch carefully, there is actually little contact, and no harm - no biting, no blood. But to the casual observer, Hell's Fury hath come to earth in the form of an insane devil-eyed wolf-looking demon dog.

But you know what? The same can be true, in different ways for other breeds. Bully breeds have powerful jaws and high tolerance to pain. Aussies and Border Collies love to nip at the legs. And on and on.

You might be doing the best favor ever for your dog, and others, to learn about the play style and general interaction characteristics of your dog's breed, or breeds. Unfortunately, Bear-Bear was being watched over by his owner's brother, and even he did not have even a few seconds to react before Bear-Bear was murdered. Be aware. Be knowledgeable.

And keep Bear-Bear's family in your thoughts.

The Call and The Calling

2010-08-07T14:59:00.002-04:00

It had been a long week, both at work and at the rescue. I was heading back home at the end of Friday, and I had already fielded two calls from work on my cell phone (at least the bluetooth in my car makes that safe and easy). The phone rang again - I did not really want to handle another call but I answered anyway.

"Hello, is this Dave?"
"Yes..."
"This is Joe [name changed for privacy]. We adopted Sally [also name changed] a while back, and I called you a few weeks ago about her problems."

My heart sank. I remembered the call. I was dreading THIS call. Joe had called one evening very angry, telling me that this insane puppy just had to go. She was irritating their older dog, She was biting him and his wife. She was eating her own poop. She was out of control, and had to go. We talked for a while - at least he was willing to listen. I gave our 'standard' approach, reminded him that they agreed in the contract to work with us to resolve the problems. I promised to have one of our trainers call him and discuss what was going on. He kept insisting that it was just not going to work, and my wife was getting exasperated just listening to my side of the call. I finally said Fine, bring her to us tomorrow.

Joe called back a couple of hours later, apologized, said they love Sally, but at just at wits end. They were willing to work with us. I told him I would line up help right away. I had our favorite Animal Behaviorist call them.

The Behaviorist called back a couple of days later and said that while the call was short (bad timing, Joe was busy) she thought that they would be able to work things out.

That was a few weeks ago, and I had not heard any more from Joe.

Until this call. Sigh. Here we go...

"Yes, Joe, I do remember you and Sally. So how..."
"I just wanted to call you and tell you how much we LOVE Sally and how grateful we are that you had the patience to work with us. She is a totally different dog now - she and her 'brother' play all the time, they are inseparable and love each other. My wife and I cannot tell you how happy we are with her, we cannot imagine our life without her. She is Daddy's Girl - she goes everywhere I go."

I was speechless. Mostly because I was grinning from ear to ear. "Joe, that makes me so happy to hear! Wow!"

"Dave, I also want to apologize - I was such a jerk when I called..."

"No apology necessary! You did the right thing! Now everyone is happy!"

And so the call went for a good ten minutes. Joe told me that the one thing I had said to him that really stopped him in his tracks and made him think. Apparently I had told him that 90% of the time puppies are out of control it is the owners' fault - because the humans are not in charge, not doing their job, not spending enough time with the pup, not actively managing. He and his wife thought about it, prayed about it, listed to the Behaviorist, did their research, and set out to make their life with Sally work.

They succeeded.

THAT call is one of the reasons we do this. Joe thanked us for being thorough. For asking questions. For making the Home Check. For being there after the adoption to help them to succeed. For being patient when he lost his cool.

If anyone was looking into that silver Genesis Coupe on my way home, I am sure they were wondering why that guy was grinning like such a fool.

Good way to end a long week.

Puppy belly futures

2010-06-17T23:05:00.002-04:00

There are few things in this world that create the level of despair and gnawing emptiness inside than a 2 week old, too weak puppy that just will not eat. No bottle, no syringe, no mush. You know they come to you compromised. Worms. Malnutrition. Viruses and bacteria. But you have to try.

Of this new batch of four at my house, the little fluffy brown girl just would not eat. She was too big to tube feed, and we had already lost one of her siblings a few nights ago. I was getting that sinking feeling - she would not eat, and she was losing what little weight she had. Each night was a gamble, would she be with us in the morning?

.........

There are few things in this world that create the level of elation and exuberant optimism inside me than a fading puppy that screams at five o'clock in the morning FEED ME!!! NOW!!! Aida had put her in her own little carrier next to the bed, and we had dewormed her and started her on Clavimox to fight the 104 degree fever. We both leapt up when she started screaming for food a half hour before the alarm would sound. HOORAY! She is hungry! And oh my did she suck down some formula!

There are few things in this world that make me smile and bring as much contentment as a big round puppy belly full of mush/goats milk/karo syrup/yogurt.

They're almost three weeks old. Stay tuned - it looks like they're on the way to long healthy lives, and should be on the site in about 3 weeks. Unless Aida gets trigger happy and posts their cute pics sooner.

Love me some fat puppy bellies.

A Sad Milestone

2010-02-20T21:19:00.004-05:00

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step"... or in our case, the saving of eight hundred dogs (so far) begins with a single pup.

At the end of February 2006, Aida had completed the paperwork and preparation to launch Pawfect Match Rescue. We had the tax number, articles, letters, logos - all we needed was a dog. Spot became PMR #001.

One look at this pup and it was clear that his name had to be Spot. He was eager, he was happy, and he had no real reason to be. He was suffering from sarcoptic mange, and itched like crazy, and he was on death row.

Well, PMR took him in, and took him on. It took quite a while for us to conquer his mange. We constantly stopped him from scratching so that he could heal, and not get skin infections. He would low-crawl through the grass to scratch his belly without really scratching, and we would laugh out loud.

What a face! He was so happy, so playful. Especially once the mange was gone, the skin was healthy and the hair grew back.

Spot watched as dog after dog, and pup after pup, got adopted, while he waited for his forever home. Of course, Aida was picky - not just anyone was going to get to have this sweet special boy!

But someone special did come along. A wonderful family passed our tests and convinced us they were the right home. He had a huge yard to run in, and lots of kids to play with. We were sad to see him go, but thrilled that he had a new home.

We got a few pictures over the years, and we happy to know he was healthy and happy.

But a few days ago we received an email that broke our hearts. Spot had hurt himself doing his favorite thing - chasing a squirrel. He ruptured a disc in his spine, and was paralyzed. The emergency vet was certain that even with surgery he would be in pain, if he even ever walked again. The family, with very heavy heart, decided to end his pain.

Four years old. Not long enough to share all the love he had, but he loved with all he had every day. Spot, PMR #001, is chasing squirrels on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge. Play well, little Spot. We miss you.

A different kind of Rescue

2009-10-18T18:27:00.002-04:00

Friday, after lunch, working hard - well, my brain was anyway. A co-worker from the previous contract popped his head in and said he had a need for my skills. Odd - he is an information security specialist, and a damn good one too - I cannot image what help I could be.

Turns out he and another co-worker have a new friend - a dog followed them into the back entrance, and they want my help. Sure, no problem.

He is a Yellow Lab, obviously full blooded. Check teeth - pearly white. I am guessing no more than 1 year old. Neutered, no collar, but obviously well taken care of. This is someone's pet. Poor boy is lost. Very friendly. We get him some water, and I head to my car for the leashes I always carry.

Right. No leash in the car. Figures. Well, he follows us anyway, and hops right in. I crack the window, pop upstairs to grab my PC for the weekend. I figure I can take him home, crate him, take pics and send to the co-workers so they can place Found Dog ads, and we can notify the local shelters. Oh, and I can scan for a microchip at home, too.

But, I know there is a housing area nearby, so I swing by there first. Driving around slowly, looking for someone looking for a dog, or perhaps an open gate. Spot the USPS delivery van - she is sure she has seen him in the next neighborhood up. So, I head that way.

Then I see it. One of those huge Sandicast statues of a yellow lab sitting on the sidewalk - that must be the house. Oh, wait, it moved. That is a dog! Another yellow lab on the loose. Great.

I put on the brake and open the car door. He comes running over, sniffing the air. He sees the other lab and jumps right in. They lick each other in a way that makes it clear that they know each other. Great, two lost dogs.

The new boy is older, maybe 4-5 by the teeth, also neutered. This one has a collar, but zero tags. Yay.

OK, I am not taking TWO dogs home. Regroup.

I pop out the iPhone, start Where! and type in veterinarian. There are few in the area. I know the closest one, on 55, but I keep getting drawn to one on 54 towards Durham. I call. The message says they are closed for 1/2 hour for training. No problem, I can drive there and wait.

It is only a ten minute drive, but they are open. I explain that I am with a rescue group, and have two strays in the car. Can they scan for chips, please? Sure no problem. They lend me two temp leashes.

The poor tech had never used a scanner before. No numbers coming up. Oh wait, do I have to hold the button down? LOL!! Yes, there is a chip. And yes, there is another. I recognize the prefix codes as 24PetWatch. The friendly attendant calls, and they have them in the system. Both are owned by the same person - yay!!

Even better, this is their vet! They agree to take them and hold them for the owner. Those boys will be home before sunset, I am thinking.

Now THAT is a good reason to get microchips in your dog, if there ever was one.

Not exactly adoptions, but mark up two more rescued by PMR. :-)

Score!

2009-10-18T18:24:00.002-04:00

We just got the news that PMR pups will once again be participating in the Animal Planet PuppyBowl(r) this year!!

They selected Punkin and Carson this time around. Both have lots of play energy. Of course, that is what we said about Schroeder and Charlie Brown last year, just before Schroeder decided to nap his way through the bowl...

Aida and an unspecified vict... er, volunteer will head up to Silver Spring MD next weekend for the filming.

Tune in on Superbowl Sunday to watch Punkin and Carson FTW!!!

It Is the Right Time to Adopt a Dog!

2009-10-15T09:13:00.001-04:00

With the economy on the mend there are a lot of statistics being tossed around these days. Here is one for you: over two million dogs were euthanized in shelters across America last year. The fear is that the number will grow, a lot, this year. The reason? Well, the economy.

In the past, recessions have not had much of an impact on pet ownership or animal shelter populations. The rationale is that folks will continue to spend on their children and their pets through thick and thin. But this recession is different. This time millions are losing their homes because the major underlying cause of this downturn is tied to mortgages. As people lose their homes, they are turning to apartments or relatives. In many of these situations, they are not able to take their beloved pets with them, so they turn to shelters and rescues.

Most animal shelters are full most of the time, if not all of the time. Now they are overflowing. This is especially true for “No-Kill” shelters, because pet owners are desperate to have their pets rehomed and not put down. Rescues are getting multiple calls every day from people begging them to take their pets to rehome.

The good news for you is that now the majority of animals in the shelters are not the matted, dirty, flea and tick bitten, unsocialized strays – they are loved, well cared-for, clean, socialized pets ready for a new home. Of course, these are course generalizations, but in general, this is the trend we are seeing.

If you are thinking about bringing a four-footed member into your family, the time is right to adopt. Please visit your local shelter or rescue group today to see if they have your next cuddle-buddy waiting for you!

It's Time for Dogtoberfest! Prossit!

2009-10-05T21:06:00.003-04:00

The leaves are starting to turn. The evenings are cool, almost chilly, and the days are layered with warm sun on the skin and a cool breeze drifting over it. That means it must be... Time for Dogtoberfest!

Pawfect Match Rescue continues our tradition of the big fall party to celebrate our volunteers, our sponsors, our friends, our pooches, and the spirit of rescue with our annual fall event called Dogtoberfest. Last year we discovered how unbelievably beautiful Harris Park is in early October, so we are holding Dogtoberfest there again this year. A link to the map to Harris Park in on our website, front page.

Food. Dogs. Drink. Rescues. Food. Vendors. Dogs. Demonstrations. Face Painting. More Food and Drink. Puppies. Microchip clinic. Music. Contests. More dogs. A Raffle!

Come get a fall photograph of you and your dogs, or just your dogs, or even just you! Printed right there for you to take with you.

We will have hot dogs, chips, sodas, and lots of home-baked goodies.

There will be several contests throughout the day, and some games. There will be demonstrations. And lots of shopping with vendors who love dogs.

Come on out - bring your pups! Have a wonderful day celebrating dogs with us at the annual Pawfect Match Dogtoberfest!

When the right one comes along

2009-10-05T20:33:00.002-04:00

Most pet rescues have them. The lifers, and the ones who despite all the right looks and personality just never get picked for that new home.

Annie is our lifer. She requires just the right home, and for her, so far, that combination just has not arrived. It will, we have faith. But this post is not about Annie.

It is about Phoebe. Phoebe is drop-dead gorgeous. A black and white Siberian Husky (yes, I am biased) with big deep brown eyes. She is tall and lanky, like the supermodel of Huskies. Sweet, sweet personality. And always the girl sitting by the dance floor watching the other girls get invited to the ball. But not Phoebe.

Well, to be fair, she was chosen once. Turned out to be premature, the poor fellow ended up having to take three jobs to pay the rent. He wisely asked us to find her a new home, since she could not get the attention she deserved with him.

She was not always gorgeous. She came to us with a bad case of demodex mange, and skin infections. Poor thing looked like an overused toy, and she itched constantly. Months of treatment, it seemed like endless months. Finally, the right meds did the job, and her lustrous coat grew in. She was ready for the ball.

The application was quite unlikely. An older couple. WAY older couple. No fenced yard. And cats. We set it aside, and politely declined it, explaining that an 18 month old Sibe needs LOTS of exercise, and a previous foster said she was hell on cats. Sigh... next, please.

Well, they were on a mission. They had looked at her many times, and passed her over because it said No Cats. But they kept coming back. They asked for earthly and heavenly guidance, and the answers came back: ask once more. Accept the answer.

They wrote us a wonderful, well-reasoned, and detailed two-page, single spaced letter explaining why they were the right home for Phoebe. It was moving and convincing. We tested her with cats - turns out she could care less, unless they want to play. Play is good. We talked with the Board. It seemed clear that we should give them a try.

Still one obstacle. They live in Yorktown, VA. That is a trip. And, they made it clear, they were willing to make that trip. Problem was, we needed to see her interaction with the cats. Well, as it turns out, we were planning a trip to Maryland, and Yorktown is not that far off the path. The plan was set.

Oh. My. Goodness. This is truly a match made in Heaven, and they will tell you. Phoebe gets to walk 4-5 hours a day in historic Yorktown, on the river, meeting and greeting and playing with her human and canine friends. The cats have quickly moved from curiosity to best pals. The two grey parrots - yeah, they did not mention those - established their boss status the first time Phoebe stuck her nose between the bars. Dem beaks is sharp!

Phoebe is Queen of the Ball now. The right one came along. After almost two weeks we are still getting daily pictures and stories. That is one happy girl!

Congratulations, Phoebe.

Dog Prog Rocking with Chimp...

2009-09-02T13:46:00.002-04:00

OK, this one is weird, but bear with me. It is just too odd for me to pass up.

I am working from home today, developing some requirements for a Business Intelligence dashboard for my client. Got the goods, now I am just building the document and preparing for the next steps. I need some music, to motivate. Hmmmm, what to play. Scanning the iTunes list - yes, Kansas will be just perfect. How about a total Kansas day - just play every Kansas album in order until I am done.

The Huskies are all sleeping in the bedroom (ON the bed, of course), or on the tile floor in the living room. The foster Shar-Pei/Boxer pups (Shoxer? Sharxer? Boxpei? Chinese Boxers ala Saturday Morning Kung-Fu Theater?) are recharging their batteries in the X-pen. Tilde, the Chi, is curled up in her little fleece cave. Phoebe, the young Siberian Husky, is in my office because I have vowed to housebreak her this week, curled up under my work table to the left.

The scene is set.

Singing along with Kansas is one of my favorite things. I no longer have the range of a young Steve Walsh, but it's fun to try. Belexes comes on, one of the best tracks Kansas ever wrote. Energy level is building up ... wait, what was that? Did I just hear something in Belexes that I have missed for more than 30 years? Yes, there it is again, something like a chimp squawking perfectly in rhythm with the beat Ehart is laying down. Eeeyoop Eeeyoop Eeeyoop Squaaaaaaa Squaaaaaaa. No way.

I drag the volume bar up to get a clear sound from the Bose 901s. They don't lie. Nope, can't hear it now. Hmmmm. OK, rewind it back to the beginning of that phrase. There! There it is again! I dragged the pointer back again - wait. The chimp is still sqawking, but the music is not playing.

I look down to my left, whence the sound is clearly coming. Phoebe looks up at me with those big comic book brown eyes, with the chimp doggie chew toy between her teeth. She is looking at me like "What did I do now? It wasn't me!"

I swear she was chewing that chimp RIGHT on beat with the Kansas tune. Heck, I knew drummers that couldn't keep a Kansas beat. Darn talented dogs, those Sibes...

Maui by small steps

2009-08-23T20:32:00.003-04:00

Many of you already know that Aida and I love Siberian Huskies. If you did not, then count yourself as in the know now. We are owned by four of them, and we love the breed. We understand them, as well as one can understand Sibes. Naturally, that means we bring more than our share of Sibes into Pawfect Match Rescue. Since we know them, we can be better at fostering them and placing them into homes where they can be successful.

Sibes are NOT like most dogs. Not at all. I truly believe that most of them that end up in shelters are the result of people falling in love with the look, especially the pups, getting one, finding out what they are REALLY like between 6 and 12 months, and turning them in, setting them loose, or just losing them because the escape artist, well, escaped.

I read a statistic last year that claimed that of Sibes captured by animal control where they could determine the point of origin/owner, 40% of them were from different counties. They LOVE to run!

If you want to really learn about Siberian Huskies, and have a good laugh at the same time, check out www.homelesshusky.com. Anyone who applies to adopt a husky from PMR is required to read that site. If they still want a Husky, then we can talk.

So, what's with the title about Maui? Are we moving to Hawaii?

Nope. Maui is the new Sibe on the Block for PMR. We helped with a seizure of Huskies in South Carolina (seems like there are WAY too many Sibes in SC - I suspect lots of backyard breeders and puppy mills), and we took in Maui. We were expecting to receive a pregnant husky, but the woman doing triage either lied or was incompetent. Probably both. Maui is not pregnant. She is, however, heartworm positive, probably about 5 or 6 years old, and extremely shy.

Maui is drop-dead gorgeous. She is that white husky that fades slightly from white in the paws and legs to off-white at the shoulders, with a gorgeous peppering of brown and black in just the long hairs along her spine. Just stunning. Especially after a bath and some grooming (Housecall Grooming - cannot recommend them strongly enough, especially for huskies). She has brown eyes, and is very sweet.

But, she is painfully shy. We put her crate fairly close to the doggie door, and she goes in and out regularly. The first couple of nights she did not want to come in, and we did not want to risk her digging or jumping out. It took us quite a while to catch her, even with the choke points we have in our back yard. After that we left a leash on so we could catch her more easily. We left her out after a few days, and she clearly does not want to try to escape.

We have to give her antibiotics and ear medicine twice daily. The only way that happens is when she is in her crate. Otherwise, she won't let us touch her. Near, yes, but no touchie. She calmly and sweetly lets me give her the meds in her crate, and she never complains.

Actually, we have never heard her voice. Not once. Odd for a husky.

The good news is that Maui is starting to come out. Yesterday she roamed around the living room, as long as I stayed on the couch. If I moved, she was OUT the door.

Today, she came up to Aida and let her chin be scratched. That is a BIG step.

Stay tuned for more about Maui as she learns how to trust hoomins again. Oh, and visit her on our website at www.pawfectmatch.org. Since her treatments are going to be costly, you might consider a donation in her name too. Just sayin.

The Good Side

2009-08-22T12:27:00.003-04:00

I have posted several blogs about the hard parts, the challenges, and the losses of rescuing dogs. As much as I talk about the need for balance, as much as I believe in balance as a central philosophical concept, I have been remiss in not presenting enough balance in these blog posts. For that, I apologize.

I suppose it is easier to be moved to words when the situation makes you sad, angry, or frustrated. There are definitely times of great joy and satisfaction that, in toto, more than make up for the sad times. I am going to spend some more time talking about the happy times.

The Max.

I have to start with Max. I get to hear a Max story about once a week, because Max was adopted by my friend and coworker Caroline. To say that they adore each other would be a gross understatement. They could not be happier with each other.

Max's story sure did not start that way, however.

The call started off typically. "Is this Pawfect Match dog rescue?" "Yes, ma'am, how may I help you?" "Well, we found this stray dog, fed it some, and now we need to find it a home... we don't want to take it to a shelter where they will put it to sleep..."

Only this call was different. These folks were calling from Wilmington, NC, on the coast over two hours away. They had placed Found Dog posters and ads locally, and taken him to a vet to scan for a microchip. He was sweet, they insisted, and they wanted us to take him in, based on a recommendation. Why us, why here? They have relatives here that knew of us.

I was hesitant. VERY hesitant. Hounds are very hard to adopt out. There are a LOT of them in shelters, mostly turned out by hunters in rural areas when that dawg jes don' hunt no more. But these folks had a twist for us.

They were from Houston, and getting ready to head home from vacation. Their flight home was from Raleigh Durham airport (RDU) so they were going to drive here anyway. If we would accept Max into our rescue they would bring him here on their way home, and make a sizable donation to us. A quick call to the Board members settled it (especially because one of them just loves those hounds). We agreed to take Max in.

As agreed, we met in a nearby parking lot, took pictures, exchanged information, and parted ways. Max came to my home for a bath, vaccination, microchip, flea and tick and heartworm preventatives, and nail trim. So far so good.

It did not take long for his foster mom to tell us how much she hated this dog. What a pain in the a%% he was. Loud. Obnoxious. Instigator. Lots of other terms I won't use here.

I was worried.

Then Caroline told me she was looking for a dog. She was fond of hounds, and saw Max on our site. I painted the nicest picture I could without downright lying. She said she wanted to meet Max. Her application was great of course, so there was just a meet and greet. Oh, and she has a cat. Sigh. This could not end well...

The home check went well. He was coming off a bout with diarrhea, and he seemed to just want to lay on one large doggie bed, but it was the cat's food, and not the cat, he found interesting. Caroline decided he was going to stay, and the rest of the family agreed.

I tiptoed into the office, just waiting day by day for the knock on my door. I was worried.

Then one day I stopped by Caroline's office. "Dave, I have to tell you about Maxie" she started. My heart sank, and I took a deep breath. Then she went on to RAVE about what a FANTASTIC dog Max is! He is a joy, and happy, and they love him, and he is great, and, and, and....

I was stunned. I was no longer worried.

Almost every week I stop by Caroline's office whether I have business with her or not. I get my weekly Max Fix. If I happen to miss a week, Caroline stops by MY office to share the newest Max story. Of course they're not ALL great - he nearly turned her into a paraplegic launching after a deer once, and disappeared up the trail, not to be heard from or seen.... until she found him at the end of the trail patiently waiting for her. He still goes in and out of bouts of diarrhea and some worm or another. But most, almost all, are stories of immense joy and deep love that make up for every pain we experience in this business of rescue.

Thank you, Caroline. And bless you, Max.

Dat was fun! Can we dooit agin?

2009-08-01T21:40:00.002-04:00

Ring. Ring. "Hello, Pawfect Match Rescue."

"Uh yeah, is this, uh, paw... paw perfect match?"

"Yessir, this is Pawfect Match Rescue, how can I help you?"

"Yeah. I have two dogs in my back yard that were running loose, and one has a tag with your name and phone number."

"OK, thank you! What is the number on the tag?"

"550"

"Thanks, hold on a second, and I will look that up. OK, that is Carter. Is he a black and tan dog, sort of like a German Shepherd?"

"Yes ma'am, he and the other have been running around and are covered in mud. The other one does not have a tag."

"OK, great. Give me your address and phone number, and we'll have someone over quickly to pick them up." [contact information provided]

Heather called both phone numbers for the folks to whom we adopted Carter and his brother Wesley 8 months ago. No answer. Left messages. Then she called Dave to tell him what was going on, and to see if he could go get the dogs.

Google map is our friend. Printed out directions, called the friendly neighbor to ask him to secure the dogs until we get there. Grabbed two leashes and the GPS and out the door.

Oh goody, I am out of gas. Ah well, needed to fill up anyway...

As I pull up, the owners are loading Carter and Wesley into their van with the loud assistance of a precocious little boy, I guess him to be about 2 or 3 years old.

"Hi, I'm Dave with Pawfect Match. Are you [owner]?" "Yes, oh good. Glad to see you could get them back so quickly. So, mind if I ask how they got out?"

He sighed slightly, put his hands on the steering wheel, gazed into the distance. "Our two year old thinks that it is amusing to let the dogs out so we can chase them. We're working on the solution, but we're clearly not there yet..."

OK, that's a new one for me. Accidents, we've seen plenty. Dogs charging doors, you bet. Entertainment for the two year old, that's new.

They're safe again. Not sure about that little boy's behind tho - might be some time out coming up.

Why is it always the sweet ones?

2009-07-30T17:20:00.004-04:00

Today the last chapter of Madison's story was written. She is no longer working hard for every breath, wondering why she does not feel so good. She has joined her siblings across the Rainbow Bridge.

But perhaps her story has an epilogue. Maddie's condition, which has been well documented, caught the attention of the excellent veterinarians at the NCSU College of Veterinary Medicine. With her records, those of her sister Tuscon, and those of Patience's pups and another litter in Pittsboro, they are going to publish a paper. Maybe this will help advance the topic of virally induced congestive heart failure in pups.

I smile to think of how happy Madison was this last month. After the last Updates that I posted about her, she did very well. She had one bout with shortness of breath, and the vets kept her overnight to get her stabilized and run tests. We changed her dosages and added one med (5 medications and 4 nutriceuticals) and she came home to her friends. Aida and I wrestled with the choice - do we keep her completely calm to help her heart and lungs, or do we let her be a happy puppy for the time she has left? Well, mostly both. We kept her times of high activity to a minimum, but let her be all the puppy she could be.

And she was. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OyaI7Po2W1o

She hung off of Roscoe's jowels, and he played along. She did her best to convince the grumpy old Husky Kiko that play is a good thing (can't blame Kiko, though, as she is recovering from cruciate ligament repair). Gabriel was happy to roll on his back or play bow if she insisted that it was his turn. She even claimed a coveted spot on The Bed.

Maddie knew her name, and would come running if you called, body wagging. She loved her people. Especially Maia, who seemed to be the world's best chew toy.

She was one happy pup. Until last night. She started having problems breathing, and you could just see in her eyes today that she was not feeling well. We had an appointment with the vet to check on her status today, so that timing was good.

The news on the check up was not. The arythmia was much, much worse, and it was clear that the errant beats were being triggered from multiple locations. Her heart was even bigger, and now there was fluid leaking from her heart too. Maybe some time with lasix by IV would ease things for a day or two, but the story was clear. Madison's heart was not able to do the job her body needed it to do, and never would. She was not comfortable, and never would be again.

The vets and staff at the vet school are wonderful, and it was with the greatest of tenderness that they helped Maddie to breathe easily the last few times. She gave us a few kisses before she closed her eyes.

Play well, sweet sweet Maddie. We will miss you forever.

Updates

2009-07-08T08:21:00.002-04:00

I have two updates.

First, we took Madison to the Vet School yesterday for a full cardio workup. The bad news is pretty much what we already knew - she has bad arythmia, and her contractile ratio (how elastic the heart is, so basically how well it pumps) is badly decreased. Her heart is full of scar tissue, which is not elastic and does not conduct the "pump now" signal. The vet there is wonderful, and everyone there just loves Maddie.

The good news is that they are guardedly optimistic about her prognosis. We will continue on her current meds, bumping the dosage up, and we will start with some new holistic meds to help balance the system out, especially the ion pumps associated with the heart muscle. She continues to play and love, looking for all the world like a normal pup, so we will give her all of the love she can handle. We will bring her back in 7-10 days to evaluate her heart again, perhaps with a Holter monitor. Cross your fingers.

Second, I told you back in May, in the blog Give the Boy a Break, about our precious Einstein. The poor guy just had one ding after another, and I asked God to give him a break. Well, Einstein had his break from pain - a couple of weeks ago several of his systems just gave out, and he crashed. The labs and evaluation made it clear that he was just not assembled according to the instructions. He was in pain, and was never going to recover. Einstein is now playing with the other pups over the Rainbow Bridge. He will will always have a room reserved in our hearts. Play well, little man.

The joys of Dog Laundry... and Toys!

2009-07-07T08:33:00.006-04:00

One of the great joys of fostering dogs is that you get to hone your skills with the laundry. There is a load about every other day, sometimes more often, of towels, bedding, and toys to be washed. It is amazing how many of those squeaker and noise-making inserts in the toys survive a washing. They can't survive 2 minutes with a Husky pup...

Why in the world am I talking about laundry? Well, our newest foster, Koi, provided the incentive. Koi came to us, along with a couple of others, from a hoarder bust in South Carolina. As usual with dogs from cases like this, her coat was nasty, she stank to high heaven, and half of the fur has been bitten off of her ears by flies. After several days, we are still trying to settle her tummy down, but the diarrhea has not yet stopped.

What did Koi do? Well, Huskies are VERY curious dogs, and she just HAD to know what mom was up to in that little room. Ooooh - I see TOYS!! Clearly, investigation is in order.

Yep, thar's toys here! Ya'll come see!

No Huskies were harmed in the making of this blog. And yes, Koi is happily chewing away at a squeaky toy right now, fresh from the dryer. I like my warm towel fresh from the dryer when I come out of the shower. Koi will take her toys fresh from the dryer, thank you very much!

The Circle is Complete

2009-07-06T10:16:00.002-04:00

Back in the post called Circle of Life I told you about the wonderful event of the birth of Margo's pups. Ten live, one born dead. Cute little things, all brown and wrinkly.

What I have not done is tell you about the pups since then. It is a painful story, a learning experience, and it is not over yet.

Right after giving birth to her pups, Margo had bad diarrhea. That is not uncommon, especially in strays, since they ingest a lot when cleaning up the newly born pups. The problem was that hers did not stop for nearly four weeks. I mean it was EVERYwhere. Poor Aida, she cleaned it up almost every time, with several relief turns by Deanne, who came by to check the pups every day. Well, we gave her everything you can give a nursing mom, but it was clear she was "immuno-naive" - she had never seen a booster shot, or been dewormed.

The puppies grew, and ate, and peed and pooped, and eventually opened their eyes. We charted their weight, and swapped them around on the nipples to make sure everyone got their share. It all looked good.

Until right about four weeks. One of the pups suddenly showed signs of problems breathing, and was dead within an hour. Then another. And another. Within a few days, there were only five left, and we were talking with the two vets we regularly use. We had an expedited necropsy performed on one of the first ones to pass. We were horrified to learn that it was the same virus that killed all of Patience's pups! Could it be our environment?

Truth is, no one knows for sure. CPV-1 is very little understood. It is the other variety of the Canine Parvo Virus (type 2) that is too well known by every shelter and rescue, and by many owners of new pups. It is really rare. The biggest problem is that it is really only seen, as far as we know, in immuno-naive dogs, those who have never been immunized. It does not affect the adults, but it causes massive developmental problems in newborns, ultimately leading to congestive heart failure (CHF) and pulmonary problems. The pups have problems breathing, the heart quits. In the ones we looked at, the hearts were very poorly formed - the pups would have never thrived even had they not died of CHF.

With the CPV-1 information in hand, we went back to our primary vet, who contacted several other vets who specialize in cardiology, internal medicine, and viruses. It was all new territory, but they decided on a plan of action, essentially treating it as CHF. We got the meds and rushed home to start the treatment. Before the sun set that night we were down to two, Tuscon and Madison.

Tuscon and Maddie responded to the meds. They stayed active and playful - all of them were active and playful until minutes before they dropped dead. But this seemed to do the job. They were five weeks old.

At seven weeks, we had an echocardiogram and EKG performed, along with CBC and Chems blood work. Nothing alarming in the blood, but the echo and EKG told an unhappy story. Maddie's heart was badly damaged, and had lost almost a third of its contractile ability. Tuscon's was much better, but they both had arythmias. In addition, Maddie had a mitral valve defomity. Our hope was that with the meds, and prayers, their hearts would "remodel" as they developed, and the ectopic foci that caused the arythmias (probably from scarring) would go away.

We followed them as they played, checking breathing and heart rate. They ate well, and played. We checked with the Vet, he consulted with the other vets, and the consensus was to let them grow and monitor them. Don't change the med doses, just let them grow out of it. If they show signs of problem, up the dose again.

They played and chewed and peed and pooped and played and played for two more weeks. They're getting big - 17 pounds! Probably some Mastiff in there somewhere. On Saturday, July 4th, nine weeks and a day old, Tuscon slowed down, a lot. She was having problems breathing, her heart rate was up. We increased her dose by half, to catch up to her current weight. We debated taking her in, but decide to watch and see if the increased meds helped.

Sunday morning it was obvious that she was not better. Her heart was beating too fast. We took her to the Vet School Emergency Room, and they immediately set about stabilizing her. She was in superventricular tachycardia, and in danger. Vagal stimulation did not help. The Cardiologist arrived, and they set about getting her stabilized with calcium channel blockers and beta blockers. They started the echo, and learned right away that the left side of her heart was not working at all. Her heart stopped. They got it started again, but it stopped again. She was clearly in pain, and was not going to win this fight. They helped her out of her pain, and her heart stopped forever.

Yesterday I lost a friend. Maddison lost a sister and playmate.

Maddison is not in the clear yet. I am taking her in tomorrow to have her heart evaluated again. She is playful and active today, and eating well. Today. It may well be that her heart is already too damaged to carry her through a full life. It could be that he heart will remodel.

Maddie goes in tomorrow for an evaluation. I hope I have good news.

Because the Circle is complete for all of her sisters and brothers. Play well on the other side of that Rainbow Bridge, little ones.

yUP!

2009-06-02T09:42:00.002-04:00

This one will be short.

Squirrel!

Ball!

If you love movies, or even just like them a lot, and if you love dogs, you MUST take the time to go see Up! It was easily the most entertaining movie I have seen in a long time.

Squirrel!

Go see it. You will laugh out loud. I know I did. My family was probably cringing, but I could not help it.

Go. See it.

How many hats can you wear?

2009-05-24T21:03:00.002-04:00

We got to talking about the jobs we do supporting Pawfect Match Rescue, and it turned from interesting, to amusing, to inspiring. Not everyone does all of these things, of course, but many of us do many of them. And, I am definitely not minimizing the effort required to do these jobs as a living - we recognize that as professions these jobs are much, much more involved than what we do. Take this in the spirit it is meant - food for thought, a reflection of the dedication, sweat equity, and just plain heart that we all pour into this effort:

Some of the hats we wear:

Volunteer: none of us get paid (cash) for what we do, and almost all of us have full time jobs - we volunteer for PMR in our spare time.
Business Owner: A 501(c)3 takes work, and PMR is a business like any other small one, just not-for-profit.
Nurse: sick dogs, injured dogs. Injured people. Deworming, baths with medication, ear cleaning, eye drops, nose drops, vaccinations, grooming, tick removal, temperature taking, weighing, whelping, giving meds, giving subQ fluids.... I am sure there is more.
Event Coordinator: fun events, fundraising events, wine tastings, silent auctions, raffles, small weekend adopt-a-thons and huge annual events. Always something to plan and manage.
Trainer: training dogs. Housebreaking dogs. Crate training dogs. Training PEOPLE.
Psychologist: Reading the moods and intents of dogs. Dealing with the moods and intents of hoomins. Dealing with the moods and intents of volunteers, board members, and partners.
Midwife: whelping litters of pups born of bitches that are usually NOT in good health - wormy, malnurished, and often carrying infectious diseases. Getting up every few hours to make sure all of the pups are fed when there are more pups than teats. Weighing each one every night. Praying that every pup is healthy. Crying when we lose one.
Matchmaker: finding the perfect dog for your.... apartment, 5 acres, frightened 2 year old, cats, carpets, work schedule, breed preference, that just-right coat pattern...
Transporter: getting dogs to adoptions. Getting dogs to events. Getting dogs from shelters. Getting dogs to foster homes. Meeting someone at the border of Georgia for a transport.
Educator: teaching new adopters everything we've learned over the last 8 years - in one hour.
Foster Parent: taking in a damage, frightened, sick living being, nursing them and nurturing them to health, trust, and love, and then handing them over to someone else to be loved for the rest of their life.
Photographer: Terabytes of digital photos of dogs. Hopefully remembering which dog is which picture when the whole litter looks the same. Getting a fast enough camera to catch a moving puppy without breaking the teenytiny nonprofit bank. Cursing when the flash inexplicably decides to NOT work during that pawfect moment when you actually did have the camera ready...
Web Site Manager: The site is never finished. Adding new dogs. Moving adopted dogs to the Successes Page. Typing through tears when you add a loved one to the Rainbow Bridge page. Laughing at the memories when you add new stories. Adding new events and taking off the old ones. Thanking goodness for RescueGroups.org.
Counselor: We take responsibility for our dogs even after the adoptions. Puppies can be frustrating. Grown dogs can be frustrating if they've spent their whole life not being managed. Hoomins can be frustrating. Nuff said. Plenty of advice and counseling to go around.
Answering Service/Help Desk: I filled out my app this morning, can I have my dog now? My puppy just peed on the carpet, what's wrong with it? I need to give away my dog, can you take it? Do you have cats? Is it OK to call at 2 in the morning? Do you have a dog under 20 pounds that does not shed, or bark, or bite, is housebroken, and is all-around perfect?
Evaluator: Oh goodness, this is a hard one. How do you know if it is a good match? Are the adopters telling the truth? Is this dog adoptable? Will the dog behave differently in an adoptive home than it does in the foster home? Do these people have the patience needed to finish the work we've started with this dog? Do we spend $500 on surgery on this pup?
Waste Removal Engineer: I can tell you that I know the best pooper picker uppers on the market today. Little plastic bags. Big plastic bags. Lots and LOTS of bags of poop. Heck, we're even poopamancers now - reading health by analyzing the poop. No details needed - I will spare you that. Thank goodness for tile floors.

I am sure I am missing some of the jobs. Feel free to chime in with your suggested additions to the list. Perhaps we should be Renaissance Dog Rescue. Has a ring to it...

A first for PMR

2009-05-24T20:55:00.003-04:00

Well,

This is definitely a first for Pawfect Match Rescue. While I can say that every member of the PMR Board has at least one tattoo, and at least two of the board members have dog related tattoos, I have to admit that Christel blew us all away when she unveiled her newest piece of body art.

Behold the world's first (as far as we know) Pawfect Match Rescue Tattoo! I bet that hurt like heck.

Now, how many dog rescues have volunteers THIS dedicated??? Way to go, Christel!

Free! Free at last! Run Run Run Run Run.........

2009-05-19T21:54:00.002-04:00

It must be something in the air, or the phase of the moon... I had my own escapee this morning.

We are fostering a small young woolly Siberian Husky named Dyani, who is greased lightning wrapped in fur. She LOVES to play "run circles around you and see if you can catch me". She nearly always wins.

So, Aida is pulling out of the driveway, I notice she left her sunglasses, so I run them out to her. As I come back in the house, Dyani charges right past me and takes off. She's never charged the door before, caught me totally by surprise. I am in socks, and do not have my cell phone. I can see Aida driving off down the street, and am helpless to get her attention.

Dyani runs circles around me through 5 neighbors' yards, and I am becoming exasperated, exhausted, and quite worried that I will never catch her. Finally, she runs into a boxed area with three sides closed in. Mind you, the fourth side that is open is a good 30 feet wide. Better odds, but I know from experience that I rarely catch her when we play.

I round the bend, slip on the dewey grass, and my right knee comes full force into a fire hydrant. I curse, and dash for the boxed in area. Dyani predictably does her big arc, runs right towards me, and zigs when I zagged. Amazingly, she comes around, runs back into the boxed area, and does it again. And again. Five times! On the sixth pass she lost her footing for a moment, and I tackled her. In my new beige suit. That now has grass stains.

Well, I carried Dyani home. 32 pounds is not so much to carry. As long as it is not wriggling and wet and dog. Sigh.

The pain did not kick in until about 2 PM. In retrospect, I am surprised I did not break my leg. Those hydrants don't give.

But Dyani is safe at home and has resumed trying to convince Matilda the 3 pound Chihuahua that she really is a squeaky toy. Sigh.

The Circle of Life

2009-05-03T21:02:00.002-04:00

It started at 3:00 in the morning on May 1st, but I did not hear it. Aida did - she was sleeping in the same room as Margo. Margo is a yellow lab mix, probably with German Shepherd. Sweetest girl you could meet. And VERY VERY pregnant. We knew it was time, because her temperature had dropped below 99 degrees F. The first clue I had was right after I made the alarm noise stop at 5:30. "Dave, bring the towels and dental floss and scissors, HURRY!" Margo had been in labor since 3, and the first pup was arriving to greet the world. Hey, at least she was kind enough to wait for the alarm...

Margo is young, still very much a puppy herself. You can tell by her demeanor. She had NO clue what to do with this pup. We helped get the sac open, stimulate the pup to breathe, and tie off the umbilical cord. That last part was tough, since the placenta had not come out yet. It was a girl, and she was all brown, with a hint of black along her back and tail. She looked healthy and she went straight to work on that nipple. Number 2 was also a girl, and also all brown. So were numbers 3 and 4. Finally a boy joined us with number 5 a few minutes shy of 7:00, right along with his sister - two popped out at the same time. The next two were males, but number 7 never took a breath. :-( By the time she was finished at 11:33, Margo had delivered 10 live puppies. Every single one of them looked identical, brown with hints of black.

We are guessing they are German Shepherd Dog (GSD) mixes. Time will tell, or at least hint. So far, everyone is healthy and nursing, with assists from Aida to ensure everyone gets their share. Ten pups and eight teats, gotta keep the runts fed. Margo seems to have figured things out, and is bouncing back quickly. Oh, and many thanks to Deanne who came over early to assist Aida and Margo.

It occurred to me while watching the births that this is something every child should have an opportunity to watch. Even to assist with. Seeing the one that was stillborn is also a lesson - there is life and death side by side. NO, I am NOT advocating that everyone go out and breed their dogs so the kids can watch. Lord knows there are too many unfixed pets out there now. But if you learn that pups are a-poppin, it is a great educational experience for your kids. Another good reason to volunteer for a rescue.

Watch our site (www.pawfectmatch.org) in about five to six weeks when we post these pups for adoption. They are sure to be cute!

Give the Boy a Break

2009-05-03T20:38:00.002-04:00

Poor boy was barely recovered from his surgeries before the symptoms we hate to see came on. Einstein started vomiting and diarrhea followed quickly after. Then the lethargy, and lack of desire for food and water. Classic parvovirus symptoms. Yuck. Fortunately, his foster mom is very diligent and got him and his brother Franklin to the vet right away. Five agonizing days later they are both home, but not fully recovered quite yet. They still have very runny stools, and will continue to shed that dreadful virus for another 2-4 weeks. At least they're home and recovering, looking for food and play.

Einstein is still as stoic as ever. Heart murmur, hernia - which ruptured, one undescended testicle, and now Parvo. God, please give this boy a break.

You know you're feeling good when...

2009-04-24T13:12:00.003-04:00

I've seen a very entertaining phenomenon, and it is a little like sweet and sour sauce.

When we pull dogs from the shelter, as I've mentioned before, they come with a lot of baggage. Usually it is the assorted ticks, fleas, and worms. Even the occasional heartworms. But sometimes we get poor, itchy souls with mange. Most of the time a dip or two, some benzoyl peroxide shampoo, and a little Benadryl does the trick. This time we got two special cases.

For months we have have fostered Phoebe, a very sweet, rather laid back and smallish Siberian Husky, B/W with brown eyes. Very smart girl. She has Demodex mange, which is the non-contagious type. We have done dips, shampoos, antibiotics, special oils, and several special diets - even dosing her with Ivermec. All to no avail, she just is not responding. We took her for a second opinion, and upped her Ivermec and Benadryl, and now she seems to be making a little progress. Aida soaks each of her feet in Epsom salt solution for five minutes twice a day to clean up the nastiness that has grown between her foot pads. Poor girl, but she is showing signs of recovery.

At least Phoebe has most of a coat, as short and thin as it is. Our second girl is Dyani. I drove halfway to the coast to meet her and take her home. She was taken from her owner as a neglect case. Oh my, what a site. And smell. She was eaten up with demodex mange, with open sores scratched raw all over her body. She was actively bleeding from multiple spots! I could see that she is a woolly husky, the type that is really fluffy - just like my first Husky, Kiko.

Dyani is a sweet girl, but she was very afraid of new people, especially men. She did well enough in the car ride, but did not want to have anything to do with me. A few trips to the vet and the bathtub later she was doing better, but you could tell she was just not comfortable.

Our favorite groomer, Susan (http://home.earthlink.net/~housecallgrooming/) came out and shaved Dyani down so just the fur on her head is left. Really silly looking. But it got the air onto her wounds. By the next day, she looked 100% better, and her wounds all closed up in no time at all.

Unlike Phoebe, Dyani is responding to her treatment VERY well. You know you feel good when...

Which leads me to the phenomenon I've seen. When we bring in an ill, scratchy, unhappy dog, they tend to be sullen and low-energy. Then, after some treament and socialization, they "wake up" - life is GOOD! They don't just feel better, they smile, they dance, they run, they jump, they play like they never have before. It is such a joy to see them loving life.

You know they're feeling good when they jump onto the bed at 2:00 AM to play. I AM NOT FEELING GOOD - but she is. What's a little sleep among friends? Aye, that's the sweet and sour of it.

Dyani is feeling GOOD. Jumpy silly playing spinny howly good. At 2:00 AM. Two nights in a row. Time to set her biological clock back to doggy standard time. And grow that wooly coat back out!

A Barrel Roll, and an Inverted Loop

2009-04-24T08:12:00.003-04:00

Who needs roller coasters when you work with a dog rescue?!

Just days after our last baby passed over the Rainbow Bridge, we were taken for another emotional ride. It was a gorgeous day at Regency Park in the Koka Booth Amphitheater for the Rocks 4 Pets event, with good foot traffic, lots of great volunteers, and (sorry) some pretty lousy music. We had Einstein there with other pups, and naturally the puppies were getting lots of attention.

That is when we notices that Einstein was in trouble. Let me tell you about Einstein. We took in a pregnant girl who had a litter of pups just over two months ago. Deanne named them all after scientists - Sagan, Halley, Einstein, etc. Several of them had some medical issues, mostly cleft palettes. But Einstein had about as bad a heart murmur as you can have, a grade 5 or 6. In addition, he had a rather large and prominent abdominal hernia. We've been watching him and waiting for the day when we would have to decide about what to do.

Well, Einstein decided for us. While at the event, the hernia ruptured. Deanne and Aida found the on-site vet who bandaged him up and advised that he needed attention at a qualified vet facility. They rushed him to the NC State Vet School Hospital, and they checked him over. Preliminary evaluation was that we were looking at thousands of dollars. Should we spend THAT kind of money on just one puppy, when we don't even know whether he'll have a long life, or even a quality life? That much money is a whole fund-raising event itself!

The vets ran an echocardiogram, and gave us interesting news. His murmur came from two defects: a hole between two parts of his heart, and a narrowed aortic valve. The interesting thing is that these offset each other - the reduced flow from the valve was offset by the increased flow from the hole. Not ideal, but not life threatening, yet.

The hernia was mostly fat tissue, and when they did the repairs, they saw that the rest of his abdomin was in great shape. Good news!

So, Einstein recovered very quickly, and is a happy, playful pup. They even neutered him while he was under. The hole in his heart might close up by itself, in which case we will have to repair the valve. But the vets says he could live a long, happy life.

Oh, and those cleft palettes? They're all closing up on their own, no surgery required, and practically no risk to the pups.

All in all, an up day. Now to go plan some more fund raising... We have a $2700 bill to pay. If you would like to help, please consider going to our web site at www.pawfectmatch.org and making a contribution through PayPal. Thank you in advance!

Good Days, Bad Days

2009-04-18T17:37:00.002-04:00

Being a Dog Rescuer has its good days, and its bad days. Today we participated in the largest Wake County SPCA Dog Walk event in their history (ten years, I think). It is always a busy event, but this year's was non-stop. We had puppies there, so we were VERY popular! At least half a dozen good volunteers (and a few of their very helpful children) were kept hopping, answering questions, walking dogs, playing with puppies, and answering more questions. We will likely be deluged with applications tonight. Sunny, slight breeze, 75 degrees, and good company, we could not ask for better.

We came home to find the last of Patience's pups feeling cool, and mewing. Aida warmed her up, put her over the Vick's Vap-o-fluid pot, and despaired. She passed in my arms not twenty minutes later. Zero for six. I am so sorry, Patience. We could not have tried harder. We still don't know what this was, but Faythe will help us find the answer with her necropsy.

Good days. Bad days. Sometimes all in the same day.

The Deck is Stacked

2009-04-16T23:55:00.001-04:00

It's hard to find the words to describe what I am feeling right now. Pain. Intense Sadness. Anxiety. Concession. Frustration. Anger.

We know that coming into this, the deck is stacked against us. Rescued dogs comes with baggage, at least most of the time. They're usually not well fed, full of worms, maybe even heartworms, covered in fleas and ticks, and with little or no socialization. Even the owner turn-ins can be this way - we just took in a husky that was taken from its owner, and you would be sickened to see her fur and raw exposed skin, even bleeding in places.

This is doubly true when we take in pregnant dogs. They are usually malnourished and loaded with worms. We have to be careful what meds we can give, so we do not endanger the pups. The pups have the deck stacked against them from the start. Even if mom is making enough milk, it often is not as nutritious as it could be, should be. They have an uphill climb.

Patience is a sweetheart. Four weeks ago she gave birth to six pups. Tonight, the fifth one died. In my arms. He literally drowned, because his lungs are swollen shut, just like his sister before him. He could no longer breathe. I spent 40 minutes giving mouth-to-mouth to him, hoping to open his lungs enough that he could breathe again on his own. God knows he tried. There just was nowhere for the air to go. I could not even get his lungs to inflate. I cheered him on, encouraged him to fight, to pull in that air. I cried. I listened for his heartbeat - still there, but getting weaker. I blew some more, hoping and praying.

It just was not enough.

We don't even know for sure what is wrong. They have enough Clavamox in them to kill any bacterial infection. The vet is sure that a virus cannot cause problems this severe. He believes that it is likely roundworm larvae migration that is causing severe inflammation of the lungs, making it difficult, ultimately impossible, for the pups to breathe. We dosed them with Ivermectin yesterday. If it was the right move, it was too little too late for pup #5.

It's hard to find the words. Sad, definitely. Pained. Anxious for the viability of the last pup. Frustrated that all of our efforts are not keeping these pups alive. Angry that - that - I don't know. That it's just not fair. Conceding that the deck was stacked against us from the start.

Yet we will not stop. We will not even hesitate. We will do everything we can reasonably do to continue to save puppies' and dogs' lives. It is what we do. It is what we love.

Rest in peace, dear pups.

Welcome to Rescued by Pawfect Match!

2009-04-09T19:54:00.000-04:00

Rescued by Pawfect Match! The Blog

She was hot. OMG hot. Soft red hair, tall and thin, stunning curves. The startling blue eyes did me in. I was smitten. And I took her home to my place.

Her name is Meg, and we've been together four years now. Actually, Meg is short for Nutmeg (AKA Nuts, Nutters, Megs, Meggers), and she is one of my four Siberian Huskies. She's the mischievous one. Nutters and I want to tell you about Dog Rescues, The Reality Show that plays out in thousands of locations across the country every day.

Every year, about 2.5 million dogs and 1.5 million cats are euthanized in shelters and animal control facilities across America. Some are strays, some are owner turn-ins, and some are even born there. Why? Because too many people do not spay or neuter their pets, among other reasons.

Dog Rescue organizations across the country take in dogs and find them new homes. Most do not have a facility, but have volunteers who foster the dogs until they can find their new “forever home”. Nearly all are not-for-profit, and most who are not simply don’t have the funds to get the 501(c)3 certification. All of them have volunteers dedicated to saving the lives of lost and abandoned dogs by pulling them from shelters and finding them a new home. It is hard but rewarding work.

Why me? Well, I am the co-founder and Chairman of Pawfect Match Rescue, a not-for-profit 501(c)3 organization dedicated to matching rescued dogs with adopting families. We celebrated our 3^rd anniversary in February, having saved nearly 700 lives so far. You can check us out at www.pawfectmatch.org. We have nearly 50 dogs waiting for their new forever home. Beyond that, I’ve done dog training, rescuing, and therapy work for almost ten years.

Next time, I will tell about a day in the life of a Dog Rescuer. Have a topic you want covered? Tell me.