Prayers and good thoughts for peace, comfort and everlasting memories from KatClaws and me.
You asked for stories, so here you are:
Kathy and I don't have kids, and we both love animals, so we have sort of made it our "mission" to help out homeless pets and strays. Most of the critters that the Good Lord has sent our way were cats. A few of them still live with us, a few had to be put down, but most were placed in caring homes with the help of a wonderful no-kill shelter that we work with.
Most of the dogs that have crossed our path had just wandered a little too far from home, and were quickly reunited with their families. Two truly homeless dogs stand out in my memory, though. One melted our hearts and one broke them.
The first one we named "Sunny" after she proved to have a very bright disposition. I happened to look out the window to our front yard one late afternoon and see a medium-sized, tawny-brown dog there. It had a collar on, so I went out with a bag of treats to try to lure it close enough to read. She was very interested in the treats, but wouldn't come within ten feet of me. I sat on the ground for over two hours, tossing her morsels and trying to gain her trust. When I went inside for more treats or a leash (in case I did get close enough to catch her) she would wait on the front step for me to come back, but would again take up her "safe distance" once I came back out. It was starting to get dark, and I could see that I wasn't making any progress, so I went in one more time for a large storage tote, a blanket and some fresh water. My plan was to set the tote on it's side with the blanket in it in the sheltered side yard of the house in the hopes that the dog would stick around until the next day when I could try again to catch her. She followed me to the side yard, and watched me set up her bed. When I turned to leave and go back inside, she came right up to me, sat down and placed her paw on my hand as if to say "wait, don't go yet." That was when I melted. It was as if she knew I was giving up, and finally decided to cooperate. She let me take her to the fenced-in back yard, and I was able to see that there were no tags on her collar. Somehow, she kept escaping the backyard fence, but she never left the area of the house. We would find the backyard empty, but then discover her waiting on the front step. We were both tempted to keep her ourselves, but finally had to acknowledge that it simply wasn't practical. After a couple of days, we arranged for her to go to a local shelter run by an amazing woman out of her home.
The heart-breaker was "Wonder". Kathy and I were on our way somewhere on a Sunday afternoon. It was winter. We were driving up an interstate on-ramp when we saw several vehicles stopped on the exit ramp opposite us. People were out of their cars, and chasing a beautiful- though very matted and dishevelled- red dog. It looked like a small Golden Retriever/Irish Setter mix. We stopped to see if we could help. The dog had run down the embankment on our side of the road, and I clambered down the hill to try to bring it back up. Kathy learned from the people on the scene that a young woman had struck the dog in the road, and was trying desperately to catch it to see if it was hurt. The young woman was not local, and in fact was driving through our state on her way to a Monday morning job interview in hopes of ending nearly a year of unemployment. She really had neither the time nor the money to help the dog, but couldn't bear to just leave after hitting it. When I reached the dog, hunkered down in the brush at the bottom of the slope, I threw my coat over it and picked it up as gently as I could. There was blood in the snow. I picked my way back up the hill carrying the dog and Kathy and I reassured the young woman that we would take care of it. There was an emergency Vet clinic not too far away, and we could take it there. The young woman gave us her number and begged us to please contact her with any news, and to let her know if she could help in any way. She thanked us profusely, and we wished her good luck with her interview. At the emergency clinic, we realized we didn't know enough about the dog to even fill out the admission form. We didn't even know it's gender because I was too afraid of causing it any more discomfort to look. We named it "Wonder" because we wondered if it was a boy or a girl, and because we wondered what it was doing on the highway. After a mild sedative, X-rays and a cursory exam, we learned that Wonder was a girl, that she had a broken pelvis and internal injuries, and that she had recently had puppies. The attending Vet recommended that we euthanize her, and informed us that they were not equipped to perform the surgery she would need, and that it would be very expensive anyway. We are not wealthy- Kathy is a teacher and I was under-employed at the time- but we didn't even have to discuss the matter to make a decision. Whatever it took to help this poor girl, and her puppies if we could find them, we were going to do it. We brought her home that night and made her as comfortable as we could in our back room. Our regular Vet's office happened to have one of the best surgeons in the area on staff, and we would take Wonder there the next day. We were afraid to leave her side that night. She was obviously tired, weak and suffering. She wasn't interested in any food, so all we could do was keep her warm and pet her. It was an agonizingly long night. At our Vet's office the surgeon looked over the X-rays, and I believe took some more. Not only did Wonder have a freshly-broken pelvis, she also had an old, untreated fracture that had healed out-of-place. Her bladder was so damaged that she would never have control of it again. We discussed the odds and options in excruciating detail. Can we fix this problem? Can we accommodate it? How will it impact her quality of life? What can we do? All three of us, Kathy, me and the surgeon, were in tears by the time we accepted the fact that she would have to go down. We stayed with her during the procedure, gently stroking her weary head and dirty fur- unabashedly sobbing while we tried to show her the lifetime of love she may never have known. We stayed with her long after she was gone and finally composed ourselves to leave. We went to pay our bill and the surgeon- still misty himself- said that there would be no charge. We spent the next several days searching the area where we found Wonder for any sign of her puppies. We never found any. We will always wonder about them, too.
Sorry for the downer of a post. We have plenty of happy stories about rescues, but I hope the above drives home the importance of taking responsibilty for our animals, and supporting your local shelters. :thumbup:
). Cajun was the most intelligent, loyal and family loving dog I have ever known, great personality...despite her diabolical look in that picture 
smoke sent..
