From Donna’s desk

by Donna Ezzell

I am waiting for some news pundit to dub Friday July 5, 2011 as some sort of new “black Friday” thanks to the newly downgraded USA credit rating. As a citizen of this country, I was appalled. We have learned to live well beyond our means and it is showing.  

As the director of a nonprofit animal rescue organization, I was deeply saddened. This type of news invariably sparks a new round of emails asking CPR to take in that dog or this dog. Where will we put them?  How will we care for them? Will giving go down? When intake sky rockets, giving often takes a nose dive. Americans are the most generous people on earth.  Will that change?   

For one small animal sanctuary, I hope not. Our success only comes because of the thoughtful donations of others.Through your financial contributions, we offer those who have no place, no voice and no choice a safe place to wait for the forever home. For some, we become their forever home.  One difference between CPR and many other sheltering programs is time. We give them time. The other difference is resources.  Thanks to you, we can offer the means to fix what is wrong physically and/or emotionally. Thank you, contributors. Without you, we could not continue to fulfill our mission.  

What would you like to see?  How can we better show you that we’ve put your money to good use? Have you joined us on Facebook? That has been our new focus for the last six weeks and we are now posting every day.  Our newsletter is also undergoing a revamp. We have a new schedule and a new editor.  I look forward to visiting with you in your email box more regularly. 

Our fall retreat, originally a volunteer get together, has now become the Fall Reunion for not just volunteers but all adopters, supporters and friends. You are all invited along with your pooches for a day of fun and festivities.  

Our next step is to upgrade our web presence including daily dairy entries. Every day something magical happens here. I’d like to share it with you with pictures and stories.
 
Are there other ways we can share the news of our work with you? We want to share our joy with you in seeing these misplaced pets find a loving home. We want you to know your donations are being put to good use. Please feel free to drop me a line at donna@carolinapoodlerescue.org of any ideas you have. I would love to hear them.

Jaz, A Love Story

I never wanted a dog. I was content with my life, two cats and the freedom to travel at will. But my partner fell in love with Blanche, our neighbors' charming standard poodle. After a fair amount of "discussion" I agreed to get a dog. Our addlepated 18-year old Coon Cat had just died and with her my remaining excuse for not getting a puppy. My agreement came with the standard clauses such as "it's your dog, you have to walk her, feed her, take care of her, etc." But there must have been a conspiracy brewing cause when Helen put that beautiful 12-week old apricot colored pup into my arms a love affair began.

Bridgette was the most perfect first puppy ever. She was intelligent beautiful and sweet, a canine verson of a gamboling little lamb. Walking her through our new neighborhood was a surefire way to meet our neighbors. After a week or so, our 13-year old Siamese cat Mae sniffed Bridgette all over while was napping and decided she could stay. For the next four years they were as close as two peas in a pod. On her last night on earth a much diminished Mae sought out Bridgette to sleep beside. Bridgette has taught me a great deal about love and getting beyond myself. I never expected to become so enamoured of a four legged creature. So one long coffee induced insomniatic night I resolved to get another Standard, this time a rescue, as a tribute of sorts to our "Saint Bridgette".

I did my home work and contacted Carolina Poodle Rescue. Interview completed and appointment date at hand we made the three hour drive to "interview" the perfect family addition. Little did I know . . . Miles was pushing for a cute and cuddly puppy type but this time I wanted an older dog, one who might have a harder time being adopted. This time I was the seeker.

We were placed in the pen with the first of the five dogs. My enthusiasm began to diminish somewhat. Where was that perfect, sunny dispositioned standard poodle that I knew was right for our family. Instead there were five older dogs some fat, some skinny, some oblivious. One dog from the group, the least attractive of the bunch, latched onto me. He simply wouldn't go away. I wasn't interested, he didn't fit my vision of the "right dog". He was a dingy white color, with breath that would sink a battleship. He had these red stains under his eyes that gave him a racoon like appearance. His desperation was so strong that one would have to be dead and buried not to notice it.

We interviewed the second batch but this red stained dog refused to leave my side. I looked at Miles and he said "we're not taking that dog." My sister said "looks like your dog has found you." Bridgette glared at me that said "let's go home right now." I decided to try this unappealing scawny dog on a leash to see if he was walkable. By now my sister was sitting in the car, back door open and when we approached the car this dog jerked the leash from my hand jumped over my sister and settled himself into our car. He resolutely refused to leave. A reluctant decision had been made. I told the office of our ?? choice and the male attendant came out to get the dog for his grooming. His response was "I see you've met Jaz, he likes men." Jaz prettied up a bit, he was by no means a beauty but fluffed and buffed I could see some very remote potential for . . . no, actually I couldn't see anything but a cleaner version of a very desperate dog.

That first week at home was tense. I spent sleepless nights thinking "I can just bring him back." Sweet lovable Bridgette was mortified to have this dingy bad-breathed animal in her pack. She avoided him at all costs. Jaz was initially petrified of large spaces, he would not leave the sunroom the first few days. He didn't eat his food he inhaled it. Nothing remotely edible was safe from his prowling belly. That first month he ate a scalding hot peach pie minutes from the oven, a raw peeled onion, a seven pound bag of dogfood, and he knocked a near empty jar of peanutbutter to the tile floor and licked the broken shards of glass cutting his tongue and paws in the process. We learned quickly to dog proof the house. Anything was fair game for this once starved boy.

Little by little though Jaz began to accept that this was home. Our first vets visit revealed two impacted teeth and clogged tear ducts. His breath became sweeter, the ducts weren't fixable. On our first hike together he was romping with Bridgette when he managed to slide down a leaf covered embankment and drop ten feet into a shallow river. He wasn't injured but was petrified of the water and traumatised. I had to hike nearly half a mile to find a place where I could get into the water and then hike another mile to a place where he could easily get onto dry land. This meant making him swim across a wide stream, he became a fearful 50 pounds of deadweight that had to be forced to into the water and then dragged across.

His next adventure was a month later when he stuck his nose into a pile of firewood and was bitten by a copperhead. The resulting trip to the emergency vet cost $1,500. But gradually, his seeming deathwish diminished. He learned that there was enough food, a comfortable bed, and that he was loved. Bridgette and he grew close; that they adore one another is evident from their vigorous play and lack of jealousy. Miles who did not want this dog has become the object of Jaz's great and devotion. Wherever Miles is Jaz is there asleep at his feet. Today, two years later neither of us could imagine a life without JAZ. This once pathetic, smelly creature has flourished on regular meals, unrestricted love, and healthy exercise.

He has gone from an emaciated 45 lbs to a robust 80 lbs. That belly that he once growlingly protected from touch is now willingly exposed for rubbing. Those growls have turned into purrs of delight. This dog who literally did not know how to play now loves his red rubber ball and has a basket full of squeaky toys. His food issues are mostly gone though if he feels he is not getting quite enough attention that fresh loaf of bread or that warm pound cake might just disappear from the counter.

Jaz is love personified. Each morning he and Bridgette jocky for position beside the bed. Jaz is an older guy, best estimate is he is most likely 9 years old. I know he won't be around forever but I cherish every day I have with him. His enthusiasm for rides in the car, walks in the woods, food, belly rubs, rough housing with Bridgette never fail to put a smile on my face. He is not subtle in his demands for affection, he thrusts his head into my lap 2-4-6 times a day, there is no time like right now for a good head scratching. Jaz has earned his good life. Before he came to us he was neglected, locked in a garage, slept on cement and was often not fed or given water for days at a time. He has ongoing health issues as a result of his early neglect. But his emotional and physical development has resulted in a very different dog than the one we first met two years ago. This beautiful gentle creature named Jaz is living proof that love and patience can win out in the end.

Do you have a story about a CPR dog that you ‘d like us to print? 
We love to hear from you – send your stories to
newslettercarolinapoodlerescue.org.

Random Acts of Kindness

Cynthia Baker – who never says a word but after every visit, we find new bottles of blue lightning ear cleaner tucked in the grooming cabinet.  Thanks!