Ahhh, yes, the old Christmas tune. Most of you have heard it: "Oh there's no place like home for the holidays...", but this year, the tune really rings true for older dogs and cats that found themselves homeless, abandoned, and awaiting euthanasia at a local pound. In 2009, Young at Heart rescued 80 senior dogs and cats from euthanasia. To some agencies, this number is small- they adopt out puppies and kittens by the hundreds alone. But to each and every sweet grey muzzled dog and gentle senior cat, it's simply a miracle. To date, Young at Heart has saved the lives of 285 senior animals that everyone else turned away, simply due to the age that was written on their cage card at the pound. In 2010, Young at Heart turns 5 years old. We're still youngsters in this field, but we've earned the respect of our colleagues, and each year we continue to learn and improve on how we can help senior animals. We've come a long way since day one. And we've come this far because of each of you, helping us reach as many senior pets as possible.
The dog in the photo above is "Peaches". Many of you know the story of Peaches, many of you may not. "Peaches" is the very first pet rescued by Young at Heart. We were the new kids on the block, the ones that every other animal adoption agency said "Seniors? Good luck." and gave us a look that basically told us we were crazy. We knew what we were getting into and we were excited to get started. After all, there wasn't anyone in the Chicago area going to bat for these oldies (but goodies!), and we knew they needed us. But that first day, I walked into Chicago Animal Care and Control, two leashes in hand, my heart beating wildly, and I was second guessing what we were getting ourselves into. How were we going to pay for this dog if she was special needs? We only had $241 in the bank, donated by several trusting souls who took a chance on a small rescue that didn't even have it's paperwork finished. What if there wasn't anyone willing to adopt older animals like everyone said? What on earth were we going to do if we didn't get any foster homes?
I was led past cage after cage of sorrowful barks and pitiful whines, dogs spinning out of boredom and excitement, and my eyes teared up at all the abandoned souls, and then we came to a beautiful yellow lab. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes, her tail beating out a melody of happiness against the bars of her run as we approached, and when she saw the leash, her butt hit the ground so fast, I laughed. Her message was so clear. Out! Get me out!
Peaches knows how to work those big brown eyes!
I handed one leash to the employee, and he said nothing as he slipped the leash over her head and she bounded out to great me. Her happiness was exponential, and her whole body wriggled and she hopped about. Freedom! Handing him the second leash, I asked for the employee to get her companion and sister, another lab named Pebbles, who had been surrendered to the pound by the same family. A cold look came over his face and he stated that there had been a mix up, the dog had been euthanized that morning due to kennel cough. The morning worker had not been told that I was coming to save her later that afternoon. It happened more often than he liked at this pound. He was sorry.
Photo sent by pound pleading with us to rescue Peaches with her sister, Pebbles.
Sorry??? I stood anchored to the ground, unable to speak, unable to comprehend what had happened. Sorry??? I asked if he was sure. He was sure. I looked at Peaches through blurry eyes once more. Did she know? Did she think her sister had just gone out for a walk? Did she think her sister had been taken somewhere temporarily, that she'd be back? Did she think that I was taking her to where her sister was now? Tears streamed down my face. Maybe I wasn't cut out for rescue work. I couldn't handle the tearing of my heart as I looked at this beautiful girl, knowing what she had lost in such a short period of time. She looked up at me and smiled, the most beautiful doggy smile I had ever seen. And I knew right then and there what I had come for. I had come for her. I might not be able to help her sister, but I could still help her. I could march her right out of that godforsaken place and into a warm home where she belonged. Nothing else mattered. I knew in my heart that things would fall into place and that this is where I was meant to be.
Peaches' beautiful smile.
I signed the papers I needed to spring her, and when we hit the fresh air outside the doors, we both breathed in deeply. Peaches peed like she had been holding it for years, embarrassed to have no choice but to have to soil the same kennel she had to sleep and eat in. She jumped into the car and gave me a quick lick across the face before I closed the door. I sat for a minute, watching her tail wag wildly as she waited for me, a virtual stranger, to take her somewhere. She didn't know where, she didn't know why, but she trusted me completely. She nosed the window, as if to say, "Let's go!" and I smiled. To think that this happy girl had been so close to death- I hoped she had no idea. I hoped she thought her sister had gone for a car ride to, a car ride to somewhere fun. I couldn't bear to think about it anymore, and got into the car to get our first rescued girl out of there.
The car ride home took over an hour, and Peaches sat in the back of the car, happily looking out the windows, and finally settling down on the comforter I had spread out for her. She was so content and exhausted when we arrived at A Closer Bond where we would be boarding her until we found her a new home. She was fawned over and loved on by everyone who met her, the employees tearing up when I had to tell them what happened to the second dog that they were expecting. Peaches was hugged and given treats, and she acted like a dog on vacation. I swear that tail never stopped. They led her away for a good soapy bath and a much needed nail clipping, and I watched her go, that tail still wagging, trusting that whoever had that leash was leading her someplace fun.
Peaches, at home finally.
A few days later, I was dropping Peaches off at her new home, where I knew she would be loved so much. The story of Peaches and her sister had caught their attention, and they were prepared to provide a home for both of them temporarily, possibly permanently. Upon hearing the news of Pebbles, it was immediately determined that Peaches should come to stay with them forever. And so I made one last drive with Peaches, as she sat shot gun in the car, vacillating between happily watching out the window and snoozing with her head draped over my arm on the armrest. Tentatively, we went into her new home, where she explored every nook and cranny, got into a little scuffle with her soon-to-be-brother, and then sat herself down decisively between her new parents at the kitchen table for head scratches. She had a new four-legged brother, two loving moms, and a great big yard. The walls of her home were adorned with all the beloved dogs that had graced their home before, and I knew that Peaches was home for good.
The ride home in the dark was long and quiet without Peaches, and I thought about everything that had happened just right for this one dog. And maybe it would be just as hard every single time I had to walk into the pound, with only one or two leashes in hand, and walk past dozens or even hundreds of lives that I just couldn't save. But that one dog. That one beautiful beloved dog, the one every other rescuer walked past because of it's age. I could save that one dog. And I knew what we were doing was right and that Young at Heart would find it's footing and it's place in the rescue world. I knew I would be heartbroken over and over again, but the pure joy of watching Peaches in her new home, the pure joy of her tail thumping and her big doggy smile - the price was worth it.
Here we are almost five years later, 285 lives rescued from euthanasia, and I know the truth now about what I do every day. Yes, it's hard and heartbreaking, but it's also incredibly rewarding and uplifting. Peaches is still loved and happy, and she now adorns our website, banner, and brochures as our honorary mascot. Her feline mascot counterpart is "Milo", a senior cat who is also still loved and happy. I have met such wonderful people on this journey so far, people who adopt senior pets, foster them, volunteer their time to help them, donate to our cause with money or supplies- every single day I meet someone who renews my faith in the human race. But the biggest truth of all is that I am not saving these beautiful creatures- these beautiful creatures are saving me. They show me each and every day the kindness that still exists in this crazy world, and that truth keeps me going day after day. That, and the thumping tails.
As we approach the New Year, a time of renewal and resolution, I wanted to take the time to thank each and every person that has done just one thing for Young at Heart. Without you, we would not be here, and all the Peaches of the world would be lost forever.
To you and yours, may 2010 be filled with hope, laughter, and the warmth of home.
Dawn Kemper
Executive Director
Young at Heart Pet Rescue
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