header

Listener Stories

Atticus

we rescued our little spit fire Atticus he was a basset with a birth defect of a crooked front leg so no one wanted him we felt sorry for him and so he became part of our family. we already had one basset,ryobi who we had gotten as a puppy. Atticus was probably about 4-5 when we got him, and we were blessed to have him as part of our family for 8 years,. he fit in real well and was such a character. he must have been abused by his previous family as he would often bite your leg as you walked by but with patence and love he got over that(except for a few relapses). He would follow me around the house always wanting to be close he would be very voiceterous when he was happy and always happy to see you come home. he loved to take car rides and when we got our RV he jumped right in ready to go for a ride. He loved laying out in the sun and loved it when we would work outside then he could have the best of two worlds be out in the sun and be close to us. On that fateful day a few days ago i had no idea that our whole world would change. He went out ok and and as i said before i heard him cry and ran out to see what was wrong and he was dragging his hind leg behind him. I carried him inside and then took him to the vet. they sedated him and took x-rays they said he had arthritis in his back and that he had a torn ACL, that with pain medications and keeping him quiet we would wait and see if he would heal at all of if surgery would be needed. but when i brought him home he couldn’t use either of his back legs. so we waited to see if it was the sedations effecting him. but by late that night he still couldn’t, took him back to the vet so they could drain the pee and poo out since he couldn’t go. After a rough night of him not relaxing or sleeping much and seeing how misserable he was not being able to move and considering his age and other issues, his front legs being one of them how would they hold out with him trying to hold himself up and not sure if he would make a recovery and if he did it would be a long way off and would require two trips a day to the vet to have him drained. I just didn’t want to be selfish and put him through that. boy the tears are coming as i write this. He was such a trooper but didn’t understand why things had changed and why he couldn’t walk anymore, we let him go on wed. the 6th of march. the house is alot quieter and sadder right now. we miss him terribly. You will be miss my little Atticus(kiss kiss for his nick name) you will always hold a special place in our hearts.

— Lynette from Seattle, WA

3812-Atticus

Baby

On March 22, 2011 as I was preparing to go to work I heard our beloved pet Baby screaming in terror. I immediately went to her aid and saw two pit-bulls viciously attacking her. Without hesitation I engaged the two brutes to save Baby’s life. I reached to grab the first pit-bull to push it off Baby and no sooner had I don that the pit-bull attacked me biting me in the face severing an artery, arm, and leg. After fighting with the first dog for about 15 to 30 seconds I turned to the second pit-bull who had by this time pulverized Baby’s spine. I hit that pit-bull with all the might and force I could muster, it released its attack on Baby, and I was able to pull Baby out of the line of the attack. I then turned to the pit-bulls with full intent to keep up the fight, but they decided I was too much of a challenge and they ran off. My son, Erick, followed the pit-bulls as they ran down the street when they turned and charged and attacked him too. My son hit the pit-bulls with a stick and they ran off. I later learned they attacked a construction worker before Maricopa County Animal Control could apprehend the at large pit-bulls.
Baby was taken to the Vet, but her spine had been shattered in the attack and she was put to sleep. Baby was a rescue dog, and we had the love and pleasure to have her for over eight years. Baby was getting old, she developed Diabetes, was blind, but we were giving her insulin shots and kept her happy and health the best we could. She did not deserve to die that way. Baby will always be in my heart, and I fought as hard for her as I would have for my Wife, or children; she was our beloved pet and Family member, and I miss her. That first night in the hospital I had a wonderful dream of Baby happy in heaven. Several people have asked if I would get another dog to “replace Baby,” but in each case I said there is no way to replace a loved one. We have three other rescue dogs in our home, we love them all, and our home will always be open to rescue dogs that need a loving home forever.
The sad part of this story is the owner of the pit-bulls did not have insurance to cover my medical costs that are now over $63,000. I had to have reconstructive surgery to my face including having an artery in my face repaired. I am fortunate to be here because had the pit-bull who attacked me been 4 inches lower it would have severed my jugular and I am sure I would have bleed out before paramedics could arrive.
Fare well Baby, I will look for you when this life is over. I miss you.

— Dave from Phoenix, AZ

3814-Baby

Kona & Boozer

I met two of the most important women in my life at the same time. True, I had met Tina (my Wife) a few times before but it was on our first date that I met the precious creature who proved over 13 years, to be my greatest friend. I have lost my “best” friend and best man because of political differences and many others have betrayed me, crossed me or just plain grown apart but Kona never left me, despite my unworthiness. Her passing will never heal and I will always regret the things I did not do with her or the things I did wrong to her.
I had my first date with my wife Tina at her house; she made me a dinner (I think she did that one or two more times since). The course was Halibut with a side of couscous. Before dinner we sat on her couch and talked, you know, time to start asking those questions that reveal if this is a good idea or that one of you is a complete nut. I gradually became aware of a noise that was interrupting our conversation. As I tuned into this noise, I realized that it had been going on for some time but I was probably tuning it out. However, it was a noise I could no longer ignore. THUMP! . . . Look around . . . THUMP! Do you hear that?
Tina “Hear what?”
THUMP! That! What is that? Now as I turned to her back door I noticed movement. The upper part of the back door was a window and something definitely moved. THUMP! . . . EARS! I saw ears! . . . THUMP! A nose, no, a snout, I saw a snout.
“Do you have a dog?” I asked.
“Why, do you like . . . dogs?”
“Yes, of course, who doesn’t . . . why is the dog outside?”
“Well” said Tina “She’s just a puppy and she’s a bit strong willed. She likes to jump on people.”
“Let her in!” I said, “I can handle it!”
Tina opened the door and a brown blur of energy with a whip like tail sped into the living room. Before I could react, the brown blur leapt up on top of me, pinning me to the couch with her two front paws. With Special Forces like skill and speed, the blur then extracted it kissing whip and proceeded to give me the most ferocious but tender doggie kisses I have ever known. The blur’s name was Kona. She was a Chocolate Lab, about ten months old. Just about fully grown at 65 lbs and for some reason that no one can explain, she was instantly in love with me . . . and I with her.
Kona never left me alone, quite literally. The only way she would accept separation was by force. Going to work and leaving her at home was one approach but in the beginning, this was met with the destruction of private property. Needing privacy meant using evil human tricks and devices . . . like doors. However, this just meant that once you opened the door, there was Kona, curled up in a ball waiting for me to exit. If Tina and I were sitting on the couch holding hands, Kona would try to pry our grip apart with her wet nose. She would nudge and push until one of us broke the chain and then she pressed for head pets.
I eventually married Tina; Kona probably had a hand in that as well. Anyhow, since Tina and I worked crazy hours – at the time Tina was a Producer and I was a Director – we decided that Kona should have a companion. Enter Boozer, the runt of a 16 pup litter that 15 survived, he grew to a weight of 85 lbs. Boozer and Kona have been our best friends for 13 years now. About eight years into the journey, our other children started to arrive. You know, the ones you can’t put outside when they make a mess. We now have three and one on the way and it is here that my story takes its toll on me, my heart . . . and my soul.
In 2008 I lost my contract position just before the “historic” election. My daughter was born 14 days into my unemployment so I can accurately keep tabs on the length of my unemployment by her birthday . . . I don’t recommend such a memory technique. As a result of my job loss, my wife (who has a very good job) and I were buried by a huge mortgage which was affordable with the two incomes but not so with only one. We did what people do; we burned through our savings, tried to modify the loan and then cried uncle and did a short sale. Our buyer backed out after waiting six months, we managed a second cash offer a week later for just 10k less than the first buyer but the bank refused the offer and eventually we were foreclosed on.
Stick with me here, I have a point to airing our dirty laundry and it comes back to Kona.
We found a rental and were lucky to get approved before the foreclosure took effect. So, let’s recap: unemployed for two years, trying to raise three kids while one is in school and the other two are in diapers . . . oh yeah and volunteering for the Conservative Party USA while also looking for a job. I have never felt so low in all my life. Desperately looking at any kind of work but getting nothing, I have over 15 years experience in broadcast television production and management and a B.F.A. in Visual Communications and Digital Design and I can barely get phone interviews. What’s worse is, I don’t feel sorry for myself, I know it par for the course and common right now but that doesn’t make it any less scary and frustrating.
Kona was consistently pushed down the totem pole as the kids came along, she and Boozer were always great with the kids but Boozer knew when to keep his distance while Kona was still keeping me in her sights. At 13 years old she still has a puppy spazz or two, she jumps on the door if you leave her outside too long and she still loves to play catch. My ever constant companion, she has no idea how the click of her nails on the laminate floor grate at my already fried nerves or how sitting down in the hallway just before I reach her can irritate me when one child is screaming and the other is not listening. Kona has no idea how much I love her but how desperately I need her to stand clear as I worry about never working again, going broke, not providing for my children and a hundred other things that make me snap at the most loyal and loving member of a family that anyone has ever had. She doesn’t know and if she did, it wouldn’t matter, she wouldn’t leave me alone if I could tell her in ten languages . . . she just wants to be near me, like it was in the beginning, before the kids even before Boozer. In a time when I was a night owl, I would stay up while Tina retired. In our first home with old furniture, Kona would jump up on the couch and put her head in my lap. If I got up to go to the little boy’s room, even though she knew I was coming back, she was always sitting outside the bathroom door, waiting for me to come out. Zip! Back to the couch with her head in my lap. When Tina’s schedule and mine changed dramatically, one of us rising at weird hours while the other slept, I needn’t fear sleeping alone. Kona would wait until Tina left the house and then jump up on the bed and lay down next to me. A practice I did not notice being a sound sleeper but one my Wife detected early on as the usual hairs left on her pillow changed from red to chocolate. For 13 years, no matter what I said or did, Kona would never let me be alone; she would never let me be without her . . . until now.
Arriving home Monday night (I finally landed full time hours at half pay and just started working full time for the first time in over two years), Kona was nowhere to be seen. Usually first to greet me unless blocked by some object like a gate or back door, she was absent and stranger was that Boozer was in the garage. If he was there but Kona wasn’t . . . what’s going on? My answer came soon enough when I went inside and saw Tina mopping the floor. Kona, she informed me had gotten sick all over the house while we were out. Where is she I asked? “She’s in the garage” Tina said.
Now I knew something was wrong, I went back out and saw the dog door in the side door was open. I went outside to the dog run (which came with the rental, our dogs are indoor dogs except under extreme circumstances) only to shockingly see Kona lying down, in the rain on the cement. She looked pathetic, more so than I had ever seen her and here’s the part I will never forgive myself for, she stayed put. She did not come to me, she looked at me with hurt and sick in her eyes and I thought, wow she’s really got a bug or something. The dogs get them, you know if you have dogs, they eat stuff, they eat all the stuff and sometimes they get sick. I went to her and gave her a pat and tried to coax her in to the garage. She didn’t budge. I went in and retrieved her bed and Boozer’s and brought them out to the garage with water. I tried again to get her in and she came in. Content that I had done what I could to make my friend comfortable and under the impression that she was having another “sick as a dog” day. I blew her a kiss and went inside. Before going to bed, Tina and I discussed it and said let’s leave her and boozer out in the garage for the night, something . . . we had never done in 13 years. The mess was that great.
I got up the next morning and just started brushing my teeth when I was spun around by my wife and I saw a sight I had never seen before on her face, devastation and deep sorrow. Shaking and unable to talk, she finally managed to get out three words that shattered my heart, “Kona is dead!”
Kona was lying on her side outside the garage just outside the dog door, in the rain again. I kneeled down beside her . . . she was stiff and cold and the tears blinded me immediately. “Kona?”, “Kona!” I am 41 years old. My parents were both dead by the time I was 18. My best friend died when I was four, I have lost all my grandparents and a cousin. I have even lost friends long before their time. I have seen and felt a lot of pain and loss in my life, so much that I thought I was hardened by it. I wept like a baby and I am still doing so as I write this. I force myself to remember the great times when Kona and I were allowed to enjoy each other’s company without screaming kids or unemployment looming in the background. But unfortunately, what I keep seeing is my poor friend in pain in the rain and all the times I snapped at her because she was underfoot or being a pest (by my standards). Now I realize, that when I came home and found her outside, that look she gave me wasn’t I am sick and ashamed, it was I’m dying, please leave me alone. I know it’s selfish but I wish I hadn’t.
Kona, I never got to say good bye and it’s eating me up inside. You were my best friend and there will never be another like you. I am eternally grateful for your love, your companionship and your unconditional devotion. I am so sorry I was not worthy of it but despite that fact, I am painfully aware of what a gift it was. It is with this that I say, please Kona, couldn’t you try to be with me, one last time. I won’t yell, I won’t snap, I will put the kids in a room for ten minutes and hug you like you deserve. Alas, this will not happen. I had to take my friend to the vet and arrange for her ashes to come back to me. She died on Monday night but the Sunday before, I saw her her jump up and head butt the back door to get let in. It was entirely too quick.
For all you dog lovers out there, hear me please. I know that times are tough. I am living them now. We all lose patience and we are all human and thus imperfect, that’s alright. However, if you find yourself yelling a little too much or losing patience with one of your four legged miracles, try to imagine how you will feel on that fateful day when they leave. When’s the last time you stopped and let your older dog climb up on the bed or sit in your lap? Yeah, they are older and stinky and sometimes they have messes but they never let you down. I just went to get a glass of water as I usually do at this time of night. I usually grab ice from the icemaker and the sound ALWAYS brings my Kona who knows it’s time for a cube or two. She never came tonight and I started crying with my head in the freezer.
For 13 years, no matter what I said or did, Kona would never let me be alone; she would never let me be without her . . . until now. Kona, I don’t want to be alone, I love you and I hope you will forgive me for being such a flawed man. You were and will always be one of the brightest lights in my life.
Goodnight my Kona Bear.

— Chris from Sacramento, CA

3819-Kona_Boozer

Chloe

This story is about my dog Chloe.  In May, 1994, she was abandoned and had puppies in my back yard.  I was not looking for a pet at that time in my life; however, I chose to keep Chloe for my own, after finding good homes for her puppies.   At that time, Chloe was a full grown dog; therefore, she is currently about 19 years old.  As with everyone else that knows Chloe, I am also amazed that she has been with us for so many years and am very blessed and grateful.

— Hilda from Miami, FL

3825-CHLOE

Sophie

When I had to put my beautiful dog, Stormy, to sleep almost three years ago, I was heart-broken and crashed and burned into depression. I’ve lost kitties before, which was always awful, but Stormy was my first dog as an adult and she was very, very special.

Two and a half years later, I finally said, “OK, I’m going to a shelter and see if they have a nice dog, and if they don’t, I’m going to adopt another kittie,” as there was a lovely fluffy kitty shown on their website who struck my fancy.

So I went walking around all of the cages at this shelter looking at all the dogs and finally made it around to the back where a cage held two lovely dogs. One, mostly hound-ish, had border collie coloring and was bouncing off the walls and barking his head off. He was extremely cute. His roommate was quiet and just had a look on her face that said, Please, please, get me away from this dork.” I took both of them out on the patio and finally put the handsome looks of the hound aside and opted for the quieter one. I named her Sophie because they said she was part Australian Shepherd so I figured she would be smart. My best guess is that her other part is Catahoula. She is absolutely the sweetest dog since my beloved Stormy. She loves every one and every dog. She gets along with my orange cat (the big orange lump on the left side of the picture) and she’s terrified of my brown tabby, which is perfect. We go to the dog park almost every day where she has made some good friends and she has filled a hole in my life. I still can’t believe I went to a shelter filled with random stray dogs and picked the very best one. How lucky am I!

— Carol from Seattle, WA

3826-Sophie

Tierrita

Hi my name is Tierrita. My human mom rescued me from a cemetry in Puerto Rico. I was thrown over the fence five days before she saw me. She took me to a vet, got a certificate of traveling after I was treated for everything bad that I had, bought a purse that I fit in and bought a plane ticket so I can travel with her in the airplane. I am happy now with my other dog brothers and sisters that she rescued too. You don’t see my pretty face in this photo because I am always watching around the yard that nothing happen to my humans mommy and daddy. Thank you for being such a good person with pets like my human mommy and daddy. God bless you the United States of America.

— Martha from Maitland, FL

3749-el_vigia