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Health & Fitness

How my life has gone to the dogs

I am but one voice for the voiceless [pets] that are being abandoned and abused. I hope to encourage you to join my mission to try to establish a more humane society. It will take a village.

I occasionally forget the names of people I have met; sometimes I forget what I did yesterday; but I will never forget the day that a simple trip to what used to be the Topanga mall changed my life, sending it straight to the dogs.  The year that I started along my new path escapes me, but it was before the Broadway Department stores were no more, and several months prior to the remodel of the mall (now Westfield).

I had originally gone to the mall that auspicious day to meet my Mother and to shop for things that I surely could not live without.  Upon entering the mall, I was greeted by several adorable dogs of all breeds, sizes, and ages that, I learned, were looking for new homes.  The volunteers and staff of the organization holding the pet adoption were all so upbeat, and I knew that I wanted to get involved.  I signed up for the volunteer orientation and soon thereafter was able to attend the mobile adoptions and encourage people to adopt a homeless pet and give it a second chance at love.

After volunteering for several months at the adoption events at the mall, the rescue organization was told to leave for the expansion of the mall to begin, and the mobile adoptions were moved to a more distant location.  I made the decision to get involved with dogs closer to home.  My local animal shelter practically became my home away from home.  Forget the weekend sales; forget Sunday brunches; whatever spare time I had was going to the dogs.

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I began to resent that I had to work during the week.  Who would give the shelter dogs treats and take them out of the kennel for some exercise?  Who would tell them how much they were loved and celebrate the adopters who saw what I saw in those precious angels?  When I had not been at the shelter for a few days, I could not wait to return to the kennels and let the dogs know I had not forgotten them.  When any of the dogs were no longer in the kennels, I was naïve enough to think the dog I had socialized with and fell in love with had likely been adopted.  Then one day, I observed a burly looking employee taking a lovely dog from her kennel, her tail wagging non-stop because she was going for a walk.  But she was walked into a room near where I was seated, never again to walk out.

The more time I spent at the pound, the more I saw that it had started to be used as a dumping ground by irresponsible adults who were disposing of their loyal and loving pets like they were excess baggage or worn-out shoes.  Puppies and kittens, adults and seniors, mutts and purebreds, being surrendered to a loud and scary environment are relinquished for the most ridiculous of excuses.  The chance of any pet getting out alive is 50/50, because the shelters do not discriminate.

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After witnessing, on more than the one occasion, dogs being led to the “bump room,” I saw no alternative but to become engaged in what has become an uphill battle to try to save as many innocent lives as possible.  I started photographing the dogs, writing descriptions of those I got to know, and emailing (“networking”) everyone I knew, pleading for someone to adopt or rescue one or more.

So why am I blogging about this?  A quote I found explains it best:  Never give up on something that you can't go a day without thinking about."  Unknown   I can’t go a day without thinking about the pets that have been abandoned, impounded, and killed because we, as humans, have failed them.  I will never give up being a voice for the voiceless and trying to educate the public about the horrors that innocent animals are subjected to in the shelters and the neglect and abuse many suffer by the hands of monsters who should never have a pet (or children).

Yes, I was pretty naïve when I embarked on this venture.  Both of my dogs are from a pound and it did not occur to me, way back when they were adopted, that they could have been intentionally given up.  My “girls” are amazing gifts who are intelligent, entertaining, and keep me centered and sane.  They are part of my family and I feel certain that they understand my desire to bring a little pleasure to those forced to “reside” in cement cells, much like the cells they were once in, and to help find them loving homes as well.

I plan to continue to blog about homeless animals as a way to enlighten those who may be naïve, like I once was, and to encourage parents and teachers to teach the children compassion and respect for all living beings.  If the blogs I write don’t or won’t interest you, I will not be offended if you choose not to read them.  But if you are interested in helping to resolve the pet crisis, I implore you to join my mission to make humanity more humane.  Where better to begin than in Sherman Oaks?

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