This is Lucky Tuesday (top left, and with my mother on bottom right). So named because, on a Tuesday, my parents mistook him for their dog, Nanama (also in the photos), caught him, discovered their mistake, and ended up adopting him. Lucky for him - the vet told them not to get too attached to him because he was so malnourished and neglected when they caught him that he couldn’t even keep water down. As you can see, two weeks and about ten pounds later he’s still severely underweight.
I want to know what the fuck the people who abandoned him were thinking. Here is this lovely, sweet, intelligent, well-trained(!) animal, who has been just dumped by the side of the road and left to starve to death or get run over by a car. How dare you, you brain-damaged fucks? How could you? Did he get too big? Eat too much? Did you not check out the breed (he’s a shepherd) before you bought him or adopted him or whatever you did?
You fucking assholes - you should have taken him to the pound, not dropped him off in the middle of nowhere. Sure, my parents wouldn’t have him now, but I bet somebody would have taken him in. He’s sweet and loving, and I bet it wouldn’t even bother you fucks to know that he cries whenever he thinks he’s being left. That’s right. What you did to this dog so traumatized him that he cries if you so much as walk out into the back yard and don’t let him come with you. Or if you go to the bathroom and close the door. Or if you get out of the car and don’t let him out, too (or, conversely, if you get in the car and don’t take him with you). Not to mention the starvation and health matters.
And I bet I know what you did, after you dropped him, too. I bet you went right out and got another “cuter” puppy, without checking out the facts about the breed. One that you’ll abandon again when it gets too big or too troublesome.
I have two dogs that I’ve rescued from roadsides. One was only six weeks old when I got him; the day before, the people who gave him to me had found him out in the desert. He was the only survivor of his litter, which had been left in a plastic garbage bag out in the middle of nowhere. It took me two weeks just to get him to stop shaking.
My other dog was about six months old when I found her, emaciated and scarred, in the parking lot of a convenience store. According to the vet, by the looks of her, she had been living on the street for months. (He could tell mostly by the thickness of the pads on her paws.)
The good news is that they are both happy, healthy, loveable dogs now.
The bad news is that some bipeds out there are capable of this kind of cruelty.
Bless your parents for taking this boy in.
Unfortunately there are all too many humans in the world who seem incapable of understanding that animals feel pain and can suffer too.
Often people who dump pets in the middle of nowhere think the animals can fend for themselves, and that it is better than taking them to the pound, since so many shelters are overburdened and put a lot of their charges to sleep. They’re too stupid to realize that domesticated animals can’t survive any better out there than if they themselves were suddenly dropped in the middle of nowhere with no food or supplies.
We took in a stray greyhound in 1995. He was the most wonderful dog I’ve ever had and I loved him dearly. We don’t know if he got away from someone who never bothered to look for him or was cast out, but I’m so glad he found his way into our home. Found dogs can be some of the best dogs ever.
How true. Our main dog is a found dog, or rather, he found us. Our house is surrounded by a couple of hundred acres of state land that is a “wildlife management area” (i.e. hunting). It’s also a popular place for dog abandonment given the relative seclusion One day I was outside when this puppy showed up. Dehydrated (it had been 90°+ for several days), limping, bruised, and barking like a fool. His mouth had foam around it (probably from the heat/barking), but wanting to be safe I called animal control. They came out, couldn’t catch him, but said they chased him off. Two hours later and he’s hanging in our back yard. Stayed there for a couple of days, wouldn’t let us near him. We were kinda growing fond of the little scamp and finally decided that if he wasn’t leaving, we would adopt him. All it took was a little cheese and he was our friend. Turned out to be the coolest dog I’ve ever met.
What a great looking dog. Needs toenails trimmed, though.
And yes, found dogs are often the best dogs. Lucky’s not the first stray that my parents have rescued; the first was Spice. She’d been dumped off the freeway and hung around our neighborhood, playing with the local kids. Dad told Mom, “I better not come home and find that dog in the garage,” because he knew we’d be keeping her if he did.
Naturally, he did, and we did. And she was a wonderful dog, loving and affectionate (and dumb as a stump). Thing is, at least she was dropped where people could get to her, you know?
I often think that people who can treat their animals this way also shouldn’t be allowed to breed - if they’re that cavalier about the health of an animal that’s dependent on them, how are they going to deal with a child?
Or that could just be me.
My cats at home all came from ones we found, my mom just told me over the phone last night that she found a six week old kitten in her garden a few days ago, so now we have a fourth cat. Our other three are 15-17 years old, and now they got a little scamp running around and they don’t know what to do.
I volunteer for a euthanasia list rescue group here in Phoenix. The problem here is worse than in most places, because we have a very high transient population, and only two county run pounds (in a city this size, this is a disgrace). People who take their animals to the pounds, especially in the summer, can be pretty much assured that the animal will be euthanized within 24 hours. But dumping them off without water is just a slower death sentence when it’s 115 degrees out. There’s no room anywhere. The pounds are taking in 100+ animals every single day. The no-kill shelters are full. Our group doesn’t have a shelter - we run PETsMART adoption centers. But every day, we get calls - usually in the dozens - from people who don’t want their pets anymore. Some of the reasons are valid. Most of them aren’t. And most people are just looking to make somebody else take responsibility for their actions.
For God’s sake, people, THINK about a pet’s lifespan before you acquire one! We get more potential adopters who want to adopt a young dog for their twelve or thirteen-year old. Which is fine, but they don’t seem to realize that the kid, most likely, will be gone in six or seven years, and the dog it theirs. THE KIDS WON’T ALWAYS BE TWELVE! This comes as a huge surprise to a lot of people.
Oh - and spay or neuter your pets. Over a million cats and dogs are euthanized every year in the U.S. alone.
A friend of my fathers, who lived out in the country, frequently used to have dogs dumped off near him because “everybody knows you always need a dog out in the country” Anyway, one time he managed to get the license of one car who dumped the dog and had it traced and called the as… who did the dumping. He told them that if they weren’t back within the hour he was going to call the cops and animal control both. They did come, suprisingly enough. Then he told them, that to forestall another duming elsewhere, he was going to call the local shelter in one hour, and if the dog wasn’t THERE then he was still going to call the cops. They left, muttering and cursing, but they carried out his instructions. Now see how easy that was, you bastards who dump pets?
I’d jump on my rescue soapbox, but I see others have already done it for me, so I’ll just say - people who abandon their animals have, in my opinion, got something wrong with their morals, values, and ethics. And the people who rescue those animals are angels in human form.
If you’ve rescued a pet and you treat it well, my thanks. (My own dogs would thank you too, but they’re snoring right now.)
If you’ve abandoned, neglected, or abused a pet, I wish I could believe you’ll pay for it someday. I can’t. But I will say that I hope someday someone betrays your trust and love as badly as you betrayed your animal.
All my kitties were rescues. The last kitty I brought home had been given up by her owner after he decided she wasn’t worth the cost of her vet bill (she had been neglected and had maggots in her vagina). My sweet kitty is sleeping on my computer desk as I type, and I can’t believe how stupid this owner was to give up such a wonderful little animal.
One of my cats, Claude, was dumped. I found him on the 3rd floor of a parking garage at 3am with his brother Antoine. Claude we caught pretty quickly, but Antioine we chased for an hour and a half until he finally literally collapsed and we picked him up. They were about 7 or 8 weeks old, tiny things, starving and thirsty… we gave them their own room (we had 4 other cats at home already) and it took a couple of weeks before they’d come out from behind the desk if there was a person in the room. We finally got them to come out after days of rolling pennies across the carpet… finally they just HAD to come chase them. After that they would let me pet them if I lay on the floor and stuck my arm way out… finally they grew to trust us enough to let us hold them and pet them, but they never got over being timid.
Antoine ran away when we moved from Arizona to Virginia. Looking back, I’d have stayed until we caught him again, but my husband was starting a new job 2300 miles away and was paranoid about not showing up in time (as it is we only stopped to sleep once on the drive, and made it in at around 2am when he had to be at work at 9am)… so we told all the neighbors (it was a big, enclosed apartment complex) about him and asked them to take care of him. One of them promised to take him in if she could coax him inside. I hope she was able to. I still feel guilty that I didn’t stay, but we did spend about 48 hours trying to get him back.
God, I hate to hear stuff like this.
My dog Taj (we think she was part Doberman & part German Shepard) was abandoned along with her mother and the rest of her litter by people who moved and left the dogs in the empty house. Apparently, the mother had been jumped by a neighborhood dog while in heat (she was purebred Doberman) and the owners considered her “ruined” and wanted nothing to do with her or the mongrel puppies.
A friend of mine heard the puppies crying and broke into the garage. The puppies were starving and alone, as the mother had gone under the house to die. He got as many puppies as he could out to new homes, but most of them died. The vet’s best guess was that Taj was only 4 weeks old, with her eyes barely open and no real teeth. We fed her Gerber baby cereal mixed with milk.
We were warned by our vets that she was a runt, and could have serious health problems later as well as a short lifespan, but they were wrong. She was a happy dog, a great pet, and a loving companion until she died a few years ago at the age of 12.
If I knew a good curse, I would lay it on those selfish fucks (never located them to punish them, BTW).
I also remember a thread on this board that talked about a rescued dog who would cringe every time the husband took his belt off. What kind of monsters would traumatize or beat a dog like that?
My good friend got a little puppy her family named Sprinkles. He was the cutest dog but…well…acted like a puppy. So her parents keep the dog for two weeks before taking it to the pound (she didn’t even get to say goodbye to her dog). I was livid when I heard this. I get so fed up with people who buy pets without researching. “Oh, well, he chewed on stuff,” they said. Well no shit; he’s a puppy! If they gave him a little time, they would have trained him out of it. But no, they gave up after two fucking weeks. I actually cried when my friend told me her parents took Sprinkes away. It also irks me when I hear about parents who buy ducks, rabbits, or little chicks at pet stores during the Easter holiday, and then just abandon them later when their kids are tired of their new pets. (the same thing with dogs that are the same breed of some new movie, i.e. Dalmatians with 101 Dalmatians or St. Bernards Beethoven.
The Dalmation craze was a particular shame, for the dogs anyway. When the live-action 101 Dalmations opened, there were desperate pleas from shelters and humane societies begging parents not to give in to their kids’ requests for cute little Dalmation puppies just like Puddles or Spot or whatever the hell the names were. Dals are very snappy, and they bite when teased, more so than more easy-going, kid-friendly breeds. I personally haven’t met a Dal that I would want in the house with my kids, the risk is there and not acceptable to me as a parent.
But sure enough, lots of families picked up Dalmations and lots of kids were probably hurt and disappointed when the dogs didn’t act like the ones in the movie.
Some people are idiots.
It is important to research the breed before you buy. It is even more important to reasearch the species. I have a rescued conure. When we got George bird he had an eating disorder that resulted in thin discolored plumage. He was a wild-caught bird, and the family that bought him fed him poorly and neglected him. They kept him in a in a parakeet-sized cage. He was “no fun” because he was a fearful biting bird and didn’t talk. They left him alone because he screamed too loudly. (to a parrot, being all alone is torture- they are social creatures that want to be part of the family. George’s isolation resulted in wierd, stereotyped repititve motions. He also had trouble spreading his wings from being in a confined cage)
George is a mitered conure- a 15 inch green feathered beast with a big square head and a Voice. His Voice sounds like putting an air horn up to your ear while hiding under metal trashcan in a hailstorm. George-bird does not have the volume of the big macaws, but more then makes up for it with the shrill, harsh intensity of his cries. If you are not prepared, it is simply unendureable.
This being said, his original owners are still stupid fucks. No one should ever buy a wild caught parrot as a pet. It destroys the species in the wild, it is cruel to the poor birds, and They Don’t Make Good Pets. (they bite, scream, cry, chew, and hide)
Although, that being stated, George fits in pretty good here.( Good thing too, he can’t go back to the wild, and I couldn’t a find a parrot breeding program that needed him ) His plumage gleams, he is eating a healthy diet, and he likes movies with disco dancing and/or karate. We just have to survive his daily Hymn to the Dawn with Distorted Braying noises.
People really do have to know about how difficult a puppy can be on your nerves. Yours truly had no real experience with having a dog when we adopted one, and were it not for the experience my wife had with puppies (having grown up in a house that always had three or four dogs living in it, along with cats, ducks and gawd only knows what else), there is no way I would have been prepared for all that chewing. Got on my nerves anyway.
Took a month, but the dog is mostly out of it, as far as chewing on non-toy type stuff. Now she mostly takes it out on her toys. Life here is much easier.
And this dog came to us housebroken. (I still can’t figure out how you house train a six week old puppy, but this one was. To this day she has not pooped in the house even once, even when she had diarrhea. Amazing.) She’s also, it seems to this inexperienced pet person, amazingly intelligent. I can’t imagine having to house train a dog while at the same time dealing with all that chewing.
You really do have to know what you’re getting into.
My cat adopted us 12 years ago after having been abandoned because he peed all over everything (I assume). If the dumb-fucks who owned him had just took him to the vet, they would have found out that he had a urinary tract infection. Or perhaps they did find out, but didn’t feel like going through all the trouble of cureing him. It was a little costly, and not at all fun (involved shots and special food), but we got him back to health. He has been the best little guy you could ever want.
A couple years ago, tho, we discovered the iceing on the cake. We had some x-rays done to see if he had an ulcer (from his stressful life of sitting in sunbeams) and found out he had a bb stuck in his thigh! Either some sick fuck decided to use him for target practice, or his old owners wanted to make sure he wouldn’t come back. Just pisses me off. He was only a year old! Just a kitten! God damn people.