Words

"Wilson, sit."

and he sits

"Wilson, stay."

and he stays

"Wilson come,"

and he comes.


Sit, stay, come.

Three words, three answers.

And a world of opportunity awaits.


When he jumps, I say "down."

Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't

but I don't mind.


Big test next Saturday; Therapy Dogs International

to them, down means lie flat.

to Wilson it means stop jumping

Random Rescue Friday, Tails of Hope Dog Rescue

http://www.tailsofhopedogrescue.com/

This is Mika, and she is available for adoption through Petfinder and Tails of Hope Rescue out of Memphis, Tennessee. I loved a Siberian Husky for 12 years, and still do. She was a character; somebody tied her up at a local city run shelter on a Sunday with no information, just a sad little dog sitting in the rain, chained to a post. Chance, luck or divine intervention led us to her, and she was a giant part of our family for over a decade until she left us.
I cannot thank these animal rescue organizations enough; taking the loneliness and neglect out of the picture for so many abandoned or surrendered dogs is beyond valuable. Giving them temporary shelter, care and love at foster homes throughout the area is good for the foster families, great for the families about to adopt and simply fantastic for the pets who don't have to be chained to a post hoping that somebody comes along to save them!

Citizen Wilson

We had a party and Mr. Wilson went wild. Minutes after arriving at our destination; Brittany and Eric's house the guest of honor, one Mr. Wilson, Birthday Boy disappeared into the upstairs. It wasn't until much later that we discovered an empty bag, a hoard of missing cat food, a disgruntled cat and pee on the rug. But the wily two-year old wasn't done, nosiree Bob. He ran into the backyard, climbed onto the pool cover, rolled in the slimy water that accumulated there, ate some worms, chased a pair of chipmunks up a tree, shit in the begonias, dug a hole next to the fire pit then covered himself in mulch before demanding we let him back in.

"I don't know, Dad," he confessed much later after vomiting on the bed and collapsing in a heap, "I think I need purpose."

Purpose we shall have. On Saturday, May 17th we are taking the Canine Good Citizen test, along with The Therapy Dog International exam.http://www.tdi-dog.org/Default.aspx . No more Wild Man Wilson. With a whole new outlook on life and meaning, he has become the perfect gentleman. Training has begun in earnest. If all goes well we will be visiting people in nursing homes and maybe even some kids in the hospital. Being an old firefighter, I have a few places in mind in need of a little cheer, and the perfect little pooch to bring it.

That is, if he survives the "terrible two's."

Say a prayer for us, we're going to need it!

Even Now

"Dad, how come Mom never comes with us on our walks?"

"She doesn't walk that well, Mr. Wilson."
"I know, but doesn't she want to?"
"More than anything in the world, my little friend."
"Then why doesn't she?"
"Sometimes good people get sick, little buddy. And when they do they lose things, things that are precious to them, things like the ability to move freely and think clearly."
"That's not fair."
"No, it's not. It's just the way it is."
"Then why do we walk when Mom can't, that doesn't seem fair to her. I say we stop walking and go home and stay with her, that way we can all be together."

"Because if we didn't go for our walks, she'd feel even worse."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Multiple Sclerosis doesn't make any sense."
"Do dogs get Multiple Sclerosis?"
"I guess they do, or something like it that dogs get."
"Promise me something?"
"What's that Mr. Wilson?"
"If I get sick, keep on walking, but don't forget me."
"I'll never forget you."
"And Mom?"
"She's with me every second."
"Even now?"

Random Rescue Friday, PAWS New England

http://www.pawsnewengland.com/

When we picked Mr. Wilson up at the highway rest stop a lot of people were picking up other dogs, and a lot of them wore PAWS sweatshirts and jackets. We had never been involved in any animal rescue activities but had heard about people picking up their adopted pets at highway rest stops. It sounded mysterious and kind of cool; strangers meeting at a darkened roadway, exchanging manilla envelopes and cargo then driving their separate ways.

From the book, Mr. Wilson Makes it Home
http://www.amazon.com/Mr-Wilson-Makes-Home-Happiness/dp/1629145734

     A guy about my age was next in line, rugged, dressed in jeans and a work shirt. He didn’t seem to be the type to rescue homeless dogs. When Jeff appeared with a brown, hairy mixed breed thing, and Kevin handed over the manila envelope with all of the dogs medical records and as much history as they could find, I saw a different person altogether. He was one of us, and the look of exultation on his face was priceless. He walked away from the crowd, just him and his dog, looking into his new puppy’s eyes, getting his face licked, hypnotized by the living creature in his arms that gave unconditionally to a person who he had never met. A bond was instantly established between the two, one that would last the entire length of the dog’s life, and though in all likelihood the man would outlive the dog, would remain there as well.

     One of the people who fostered dogs was next, identified by her jacket which was emblazoned with giant letters, P A W S on the back.

     “What’s PAWS mean?” I asked Cheryl, assuming that she would know. After all, she did find out about all of this, had it not been for her exit 89 off of 395 would have been just one of the million and one places that I have never been.

     “People helping animals. They hook people up with abandoned dogs and cats.”

     “Yeah, but what’s PAWS stand for?”

     “I just told you, people helping animals.”

     “That would be PHA.”

     “You can’t say PHA. Nobody would remember it.

     “So what’s PAWS stand for?”

     “Does it matter?”

     “I guess not…I just wish I knew.”

     “Google it.”

     “I don’t have a Googler with me.”

     “What’s a Googler?”

     “It’s a thing that lets you google stuff.”

     “Like an I-phone?”

     “Yeah, exactly! So what does PAWS stand for.”

     “I told you, People Helping Animals.”

     “That would be PHA.”

     “Forget it.”

     “Ok, it’s not that important.”

     There’s nothing like meaningful conversation on a beautiful day.

     The dog that the lady from PAWS took from Jeff and Kevin was an older dog, maybe seven years old. She was terrified, and her tail was between her legs, and her ears were flat on her head, and she refused to make eye contact with anybody, just tried to melt into the pavement. She simply did not want to be noticed, being invisible much safer than being seen. She hid behind her foster mother’s legs, and the mom’s assistant, also wearing a PAWS jacket knelt next to the abused dog, then sat on the ground, and held her in her arms. I was mesmerized, unable to tear my teary eyes away from the drama that was happening so close to me I could smell the scent of fear coming from the dog.

     “Pets are worth saving.”

     “They sure are,” I said, watching as the two women showered the poor dog with patience and affection.

     “That’s what PAWS means.”

     It took me a minute, but eventually it all became clear.

     PAWS means a lot of things to a lot of different people. There are numerous organizations named PAWS, most exist for the sole reason of helping animals. It doesn’t really matter what each organization’s letters stand for, what matters is that there are people who volunteer their time helping those who have no voice. For me, PAWS means “People are worthy souls.”

     The people at PAWS do a great job, and they have our most sincere thanks. 

The Chase

Wilson was one when we got him, now he's two. Happy Birthday, Mr. Wilson!

If you look closely at the pictures you will see Wily Old Wilson stalking prey from the safety of his enclosure behind the Adirondack chairs. He'll sit there for hours waiting for one of his nemesis's to forget that he's there, and he'll spring from his hiding place and give chase, nipping at the bushy squirrell tail as he runs for his life.

He hasn't caught one yet but he's come mighty close. I hope he never gets one. I suppose it's instinct that tells him to chase, but sometimes I wonder if domestication tempers the instinct. He caught a bird the week we brought him home and looked repentant when I found the headless body. He took no joy in the act, and hasn't chased birds since. Mourning doves gather at the foot of the feeders and he doesn't give them a second look.

Maybe I'll get him a squirrel shaped Birthday Cake. Probably not. We'll most likely just do what we do every day; enjoy the moments that present themselves. Mr. Wilson learned that it's the pursuit of a goal that means more than the capture. Doesn't mean he's not going to keep on chasing  though!

Random Rescue Friday

 "The Morse One Animal at a Time Pet Rescue."


The internet is full of Rescues. There are so many dogs and cats and goats and horses, lizards, pigs birds and fish in need of homes that it boggles the mind. I'm new to the world of Animal rescue. I spent nearly three decades rescuing people, and the need there is nearly insurmountable. But the big difference between rescuing people and rescuing animals is this: people for the most part are capable of rescuing themselves. The safety net for people in need is immense, and obtainable with just a little effort. We are not euthanizing 74,000 people every day.

But we are killing 74,000 dogs and cats. Every day.

We have two cats, had two dogs until three years ago when we had to say goodbye, now we have another one. We are not on the internet, we're not an official "Pet Rescue," we don't foster, advertise or go to pet adoption events. Most people don't. But most people would be willing to adopt a pet if their circumstances allowed.

Until we adopted Mr. Wilson, there was absolutely no way our circumstances allowed. Two cats were enough, and the pain felt upon the passing of Zimba and Lakota after 12 years of companionship was simply something I never wanted to endure again.Or so I thought.

Enter "The Morse One Animal at a Time Pet Rescue."

Since adopting Mr. Wilson through Petfinder, FOHA RI and Alpha Dog Pet Transport we cannot imagine life without him. He has become an integral part of our home, and any future pain we may feel pales in comparison to the joy we feel every time we wake and know he is near. He is part of our clan, he herds the cats, and they swipe at him, but lie next to him, he keeps an eye on us, and frowns when we fight, and laughs when we do, which is far more often than we did before he came along.

There are a lot of people just like us out there, people who need a little boost in their routine, a little something extra to make life sweeter, and taking a chance an a homeless pet is a great way to begin exploring all of the possibilities that exist for us during our time here on earth. I once thought that my days of befriending a member of the animal kingdom were over, but how foolish was I?

Life is for living. There is a beginning, and an end. I plan on getting in as many licks as I can while I'm in the middle.

And Mr. Wilson's got a lot of licks in him.


Between all of the Pet Rescues and available pets, and the over half of pet-less homes, I think there a lot of people who are missing out. We just have to figure out how to let them know what they are missing.