I saw her in cage 26 at the Roswell pound. For a brief minute when she heard my voice, she darted out from under the cot with a nervously wagging tail between her legs. She was clearly unsure about what to expect, but hopeful that her human, any human, had come for her. I could count every rib on her little body and there was hardly any muscle mass around the hip bones and chest. Her frail little body was only a shadow of the dog she could be or once was. Her visit to the gate was brief and she scurried back to the only place she felt a modicum of security . . . under the cot in the corner of the cage.
When I asked about her history, I learned she was an “owner surrender.” The owner had health problems and could no longer take care of her. One might ask why a family member couldn’t have helped, and it would be so easy for dog lovers like me to immediately condemn the person for surrendering her dog to the pound, where she would have faced her demise. But there is always more to every dog’s story.
No one loved her dogs more than my mom, and yet I remember in the last six months of her life, she had little strength or energy to care for them or give them the attention that they craved. So they became my dogs while she and they lived with me. After she died, they were still my dogs and my home was theirs. Had my mom not been with me, her dogs might have been in the same position as this little dog.
So I tell all my little rescues that whatever was, no longer is, and that they have a new life. As I drove home from Roswell with my precious cargo, it was clear that this little dog was used to being held and loved. She climbed in my lap and wrapped her little front legs around my neck.
Whoever her owner was, I want her to know that her little dog is safe, is getting good and delicious food (although right now she has the appetite of a bird), and has new friends. She’s held, hugged and carried around. . . and the name “Flossie Mae” just didn’t suit her. She’s as elegant as fine china, has deep, expressive eyes and moves like a little gazelle . . . so her new name for the beginning of her new life is Audrey, after Audrey Hepburn. She seems to like that.
Welcome to your new life, sweet Audrey.
Extraordinary Dogs is currently working on its nonprofit tax-exempt status. In the meantime, donations for Audrey’s health care can be made via paypal under the business account OSTUDIO@WINDSTREAM.NET . In the notes indicate the dog’s name. We invite you to donate an amount of your choosing to the Death Row Dog Fund by clicking the button below.
The doggies and I thank you !