We have dedicated one run to the housing of a rescue dog at all times. During non-peak periods we hope to be able to provide more.

One of the sadder rescues we've participated in. In late December of 2007 a local family returned home from a 3 week vacation to find a crate containg a dog covered in his own urine & feces in their driveway. The note attached to his crate indicated he was an 8 month old purebred Labrador Retriever and his family could no longer take care of him and asked his locators to please help.

Not knowing what to do, his locators called the Animal Emergency Clinic at Diamond Vet in Everett, Washington and transported him there. We were contacted to see if he could be taken into rescue and arranged for his transportation to us. Dr. Reynolds and her caring staff kindly gave this poor pup multiple baths to remove the feces/urine coating him and provided his initial medical care. Who knows how long this poor boy sat in his crate in the freezing weather we've had in the last few weeks but certainly more than a few days. A healthy 8 month old should weigh about 60-70 pounds, Shadow weighs but 42 and has lost all muscle tone. Thankfully it appears he had a water source from all the rain we've had lately and does not appear to have suffered damage from recycling his own waste during his travail.

Shadow has shown himself to be a lovely well mannered pup who obviously was well taken care of and socialized prior to this time. We can only wonder what tragedy led his family to dump him at the home of a stranger not even knowing if they were home or if they would be willing to help.

Fortunately he arrived at a time when a previous rescue adoptive family was looking for a second companion and he has been transitioned to their home (see Lucy, March 2002). We look forward to positive updates of his condition in the future.
    Shadow on 1/12/08 a month later, 60 pounds!

In the fall of 1992 we had just moved to our new house in a small division about 5 miles from the nearest town. We lived at the end of the road, entirely enclosed by trees, and cut off from our neighbors to the South and West by a rather large drainage creek. Most folks in the division simply let their dogs run, and being next to a state forest land area, it was a popular area for dumping.

We started seeing Beau roaming the neighborhood and assumed that he belonged to one of the newly moved in neighbors. He wandered through every day taking a path at the foot of our property thru the woods looking like he had some purpose to attend to, so we paid him little heed. There was a T out of the division, and directly across from the T was a particularly large pine, it was 5 in the morning, and as I stopped before exiting, my headlights caught his eyes...he was curled in a ball sleeping at the foot of the tree. It was pouring rain. I knew at this point he had been dumped rather than just a roaming neighborhood dog. I stopped the truck and tried to get him to come to me and he disappeared into the woods like a ghost.

For the next week or so, I only saw him cutting through the path at the end of the drive, and then he started sleeping at the end of the drive and stopping to look over the place on his afternoon missions down the path. We took advantage of this to start feeding him. It took some work to get him to slowly work his way up the drive to the house, but eventually we succeeded. We named him Beau because he was so completely and totally loving even though he had obviously been dealt with harshly. His coat was like straw, and there were cuts all along his sides (much later we discovered that the neighborhood children had thought it a wonderful game to trap him in a circle and poke holes in his sides with sticks while he tried to escape - this had happened just before he moved his sleeping area to the end of our drive). Beau was a Husky mix, with one blue eye, one brown, a silly sense of humor, and some really bizarre fears...an opening pop can would send him running away as fast as he could, terrified. He would go to the furthest extreme of the house if food was being prepared to hide, men were much scarier than women, and the sound of falling water was enough to undo him. We guessed that perhaps his former owner was a beer drinker and that he had learned the sound of opening cans meant he was going to be hit soon and he had probably been hurt while trying to steal food while loose, but we could never come up with an explanation for the falling water.

Beau stayed with us for quite some time, becoming more stable by the day, while we looked for an appropriate new home for him, we found one back home in Montana (we are north of Seattle). These folks had two dogs currently and a number of adult children who all had dogs, and family holidays included all the kids and all the dogs coming home. They are gentle people capable of dealing with his need for space to slowly recover his self esteem. Once we had agreed to bring him, they fenced their yard for him (the other two dogs had not required confinement), built a day-kennel the width of the back of the garage with doors into the garage so the dogs could have in-out access during the day and a play area, signed him up for obedience classes, and made an appointment with the groomer.

4 years later...every month or two I get a progress report. The latest success was a *large* family Labor Day party at which Beau actually *played* with the children. Last year their huge success was getting him to beg....seems he has a taste for ice-cream (any flavor, thank-you). You would've had to see the fear in his eyes as he slinked away from food preparation to truly appreciate this huge recovery. They tell me there are still times you can see the panic in his eyes, but they get fewer and fewer.

2001...It's been 9 years now...Beau is still a much loved companion in the same home...we still get updates on a regular basis.

2005...Beau, after a long and very happy life has left us. Our condolences to his family, we wish you many happy memories.

You CAN make a difference. You CAN take ONE dog and turn his life around...and it's worth it every time.

I received a call one afternoon from the other local representative wanting to know if I could drop by the shelter and pick up *two* dogs that would be euthanized that day if we didn't get them out. Labradors, a male and a female, they had stayed their limit. The male was thought to be "unadoptable". Of course, this had happened the day *after* I had removed the crates from my truck to haul some other things! I arranged for crates and left work for the shelter. When I arrived, some questioning revealed that the bitch had been having problems with severe limping after having visits with potential adopters and would be held for veterinarian review the following day [major untreated past injury to her leg did cause her to be put down the following day :( ] . The dog had been adopted out THREE TIMES in the last six weeks (after originally coming in stray being held for two weeks and then being neutered). EACH TIME to families with small children, they thought perhaps he was just too exuberant for a family with small children. So, we go to the kennels and here I am greeted by 90+ pounds of adolescent male Labrador, so desperate for attention after multiple abandonments that he is bounding up and down (to the top of a 6' kennel!) and barking non-stop. Oh boy! We took him out of the kennel to the visiting area and then outside for a walk, he was desperate for attention, desperately wanted to please, and seemed quite intelligent. When we brought him back into the kennel to confine him while I signed him out he tried desperately to avoid going in. While I was signing him out they mentioned "Oh yeah, we have this puppy in the sick room with a hurt leg that came in this morning, do you want to look at him and see if he really is a Lab and whether you guys would like to take him?". He was. The "hurt leg" turned out to be a leg completely snapped in two that he had been sitting waiting all day to have looked at...he was about 9 or 10 weeks old. A quick call to our coordinator got him out of there that day and to a vet for care and later adoption. But back to Jack.

I signed him out and took him home, changing his name to Sandy as we already had a Jax at home and the names were too close ("Jack" had only been his name at the third home anyways so he hadn't had it very long). He fit right in with the rest of the pack quite nicely. Sandy stayed with us for a week or so for assessment and we decided that he would be a good candidate for drug training. (We have a kennel that we work with that retrains certain dogs to be drug or arson scent dogs to work with various law enforcement agencies. Fortunately, the type of dog they LOVE to see is also the hardest to place in a home, young, untrained males, with LOTS of energy, and curiosity). Reports back in the next few weeks indicated that this had been a *perfect* placement. They were thrilled with his enthusiasm and never-ending desire to please, and brains that worked as well as his bounce quickly made him a star pupil. His name had been changed back to Jack (for the hardness of the sound) and he was due to go to his new home with a local Sheriffs department in a few weeks. He had chosen to be a drug dog (from the trainers explanations, the dogs "choose" whether to be a drug or an arson dog by the amount of excitement they show when initially exposed to scents from each group)....all was well....until the night the phone rang.

Jack had had a grand mal seizure. Dogs that wash out of the program for whatever reason are returned to their foster parents for rehoming. As a drug dog, Jack could be involved in a bust where there were high tensions and weapons involved and this would be the last time his officer partner could afford to be distracted by him going into a seizure. We brought him home. Veterinary review of multiple test results concluded epilepsy. (Epilepsy is diagnosed by default as it cannot be diagnosed directly) In canines, epilepsy is a highly controllable disease but for many people simply not one that they feel capable of dealing with, and this was a LARGE dog that during seizures became extremely frightened and inclined to snarl if you approached. This was going to make a home search even more difficult. We decided to try, but that unless the perfect home came along, he would remain with us indefinitely. He now became "Jackie the Sandman" or "Sandman" while Jax went to her full name of Danzia Jaxayn ... it took a few weeks till she stopped thinking she was in trouble every time I called her :)

It took a few months of searching, but we finally found that perfect home...Sandman went to a new home in which there were 3 teenage children and a quite elderly golden retriever loosing his sight and hearing ...who had had epilepsy all his life. They were accustomed to living with the problem and didn't understand why some folks would think it a big problem. His new "dad" took most of the first week that he was home off to stay home and train him, enrolled him in obedience classes, and basically seemed thrilled to be allowed the opportunity to add this boy too their life. What a difference an attitude makes! Within a few weeks I got a call telling me that Jackie had been taught to mark and retrieve birds (we had tested him on birds and it appeared he had never been exposed, he was not terribly hip on retrieving to hand although he would bring it close and try to play keep away), he was the star of his obedience class, and how gentle he was when he was around the older dog....really seeming to watch out for him. A few more weeks and he went on his first REAL LIVE DUCK HUNT!! (quite an accomplishment for a dog that showed no sign of birdyness a few weeks earlier) AND had progressed to off-lead heeling and remote command. They are convinced they own the best yellow dog on the face of the earth....and they're right, for THEM, he is.

We turned down over 25 homes in our search for the perfect one for Jack the Sandman. Remember, the BEST dog is the dog that is best for YOU. We all have requirements and beliefs into which a dog must fit. PLEASE, assess your requirements realistically and make the time to research breeds BEFORE you purchase or adopt. Be SURE that this is the animal you want to live with for the next 10 to 20 years.