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He was just a dog on the end of a chain, forgotten by the man that put him there. As a puppy he’d been tied with a rope but he chewed through it once, to run barking and leaping down the street. Then the man put the chain, three feet long, with links as big as a child’s fist, around his neck. Five years passed.
The call to the Humane Society of New York came from a neighbor saying the owner had moved, leaving the dog behind. Dogs are pack animals with an innate need to socialize. To a dog, depriving it of companionship is as cruel as withholding food and water. Could we undo years of damage, and find a responsive animal still inside? “Please,” said the caller sadly. “He’s never had a chance.” The dog that came to the Society the next day, a Labrador mix, was shaking too hard to walk. When he panted in fear we caught glimpses of teeth broken in his lonely struggles to free himself. We carried him inside and left him with Bill Berloni, our Director of Dog Training. After an hour, Bill reported: “He never stopped shaking. But he crawled on his belly and put his head in my lap. There’s a good dog in there somewhere. Let’s get to work.” We named the lab mix Verne. We worked with him for six months. He needed to learn everything: how to trust, to play, to walk on a leash. He was like a prisoner from some dark dungeon, blinking in blissful but alien sunshine. Under Bill’s guidance, Verne flourished until we realized we’d saved an exceptional dog, who would forgive anything to be near people. When Verne was ready, when fine medical care from the Society’s clinic had restored his health and good food had put shine into his coat, we introduced him to a family who wanted to adopt a gentle older dog. Now we get snapshots of “Verne in the Car”, “Verne at the Beach”, “Verne Watching TV with Dad”. After years of neglect Verne is part of a family, all that his loyal soul ever wanted to be.
Before he was sedated Tuttle stood on the Society’s exam table on three legs, purring. The orange kitten had a high fever, but he rubbed his cheek genially against the doctor’s hand. His fourth leg, the left hind, was encased in a crude bandage of duct tape and cotton. From it rose the fearful smell of gangrene. Once he was sleeping, the doctor cut the packing away. And saw, with sorrow, the thin, deadly rubberband that someone had slipped over the little leg, cutting off circulation, causing it to die. Unsupervised, children sometimes put rubberbands around pets’ necks, legs, ears or tails, not understanding the consequences. Tuttle was found, alone and exhausted, collapsed on a sidewalk. We don’t know who harmed him, or why. We don’t know who tried to bandage the ruined leg. When he came to us, the leg was past saving. All we could do was to amputate to save his life. Now recovering in our hospital, Tuttle still purrs when you pet him. He rolls over readily, three legs in the air, to have his belly rubbed. He is gentle and sweet, endlessly willing to trust: an astonishing kitten. At the Society, we’re proud to know Tuttle, privileged to care for him, and grateful that when he needed us, we were here to help.
The streets in midtown were crowded, but nobody hurrying past stopped to help the gray cat crying on the sidewalk. Nobody, until Joe B. came along. Joe saw the injured cat, knelt, watched it start dragging itself towards him with its front legs. He pulled out his phone, called the Humane Society of New York. “I think its back is broken,” he told us. “What should I do?” Within minutes of their arrival at the Society the cat had been examined and scheduled for x-rays. Soon we had news. “Good news,” we told Joe. “The back isn’t broken.” Joe smiled but his expression was wistful. “I wish I could keep this guy, but my wife is ill. It’s not a good time for us.” We understood. We gave this kind man time to say “goodbye” to Joe Jr. Then we began the long process of helping this animal regain its health. Joe Jr.’s injuries were severe. Both of the nine-month old’s hind legs were broken. His pelvis had multiple fractures. He needed surgery to pin shattered bones. Afterwards, his first days were drowsy, mercifully blunted by painkillers. As he improved he became a buoyant kitten again, swatting at toys with his good front legs. Joe Jr. turned his nose up at the absorbent pads we gave him to make relieving himself easier; he wanted his litterbox and insisted on pulling himself in and out of it, casts and all. After long weeks when the casts came off he played with his own back toes as though he’d missed them. Growing stronger, he galloped up cat trees in the adoption center. He stretched luxuriously in sunny windowsills. He’s ready for adoption now. Joe Jr. has come a long way, and we look forward to finding the right home for him, a happy exuberant family for a brave, happy, exuberant little cat.
One afternoon a young man called the Society to say he’d made
a grim discovery. He worked for a realtor. He’d been showing
a vacant house in the Bronx when he spotted
The year-old Collie mix had been used as pit bull “bait”
– a living target to train fighting dogs. In the Society’s
hospital our doctors found deep bites in her chest, abdomen and
legs. She’d suffered massive blood loss. Then, another sinister She survived a blur of procedures: transfusions, surgeries, tubes inserted to feed her, to medicate, to drain. At first she was unresponsive but once she was able to stand she wanted, staunchly, to go outside, rather than soil her kennel. Soon we realized she knew words: “sit” and “cookie” and “car” and “out”. Someone in her past housetrained this dog, gave her cookies, probably loved her very much. We think that same someone may have tied her outside a store while they shopped, leaving her a friendly, easy target to be stolen for sale to the fighting dog trade. Our Collie mix was lucky. The young realtor, who’d named her Tootsie, returned to adopt her. Tootsie has a safe, loving home. But every week the Society gets calls from anguished owners who left their pets unattended “for just one minute”. It takes only an instant for an experienced thief to steal a pet. Most will never come home again. # # # Dear Friend and Animal Lover, The next time a homeless, sick or injured dog or cat comes to us, it may be your gift helping that animal to survive. Please, send your donation to offer a second chance to someone like Tootsie or Tuttle or Joe Jr. or Verne. Sincerely, Virginia Chipurnoi President
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Home :: Our Mission :: Services :: Adoptions :: Donations :: Humane Issues :: Contact © 2001-2008, The Humane Society of New York. PRIVACY POLICY
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