Excerpts

I KE

What else could we name him but Ike? He came to Rover Oaks in the immediate aftermath of his namesake, Hurricane Ike, that blew through the Houston area in September 2008. Several of us had spent the night at Rover Oaks (our own pets and families in tow) to keep an eye on the forty or so dogs that were lodging with us. Though we had tried to evacuate the facility, there were some pets whose owners or friends and family could not pick them up, and others whose owners had called seeking shelter for their furry children as they fled from coastal cities such as Galveston. The day after the worst of the storm, through which we had miraculously kept our power and sustained little damage, I was in the lobby area and observed a car pulling into our parking lot.

As I glanced out the door, a woman got out of her car and walked to one of our grassy, fenced play yards, far away from the doors of the facility. She went back to her car and I saw her carrying a small, white dog towards the fence. Because it has happened before, I felt she was probably going to dump the poor little

guy over the fence. I opened the front door and asked if I could help her.

She brought a very scared little dog into Rover Oaks. He was scratched and scraped all over his face and body, and it looked like someone had tried to groom him, but had done a very poor job. We did not know if he had sustained all of his wounds during the storm, or if he had been dumped out of a car, but he was beaten up. The woman said that she had found him in the parking lot of a nearby shopping center, and that she was unable to keep him. With much of the area without power and debris covering the roads, it was not feasible to take him to a shelter or anywhere else. So, we took the pitiful little guy in. Ike (as that was really the only plausible name for him) appeared to be a terrier/lhasa apso mix. He was extremely frantic when the woman left him behind, straining at the leash to follow her out the door, and leading us to wonder if he might have been her dog, after all, rather than a stray. And, he was absolutely terrified. He snarled, snapped and tried to get away from us. Jacque, our Director of Pet Care Services, and I sat with him until he calmed down sufficiently for us to take him back to an enclosure and give him some food, water, and bedding. We wanted to take him for a veterinary checkup, but most of the vets were closed due to the storm and we wanted to give him a little bit of time to settle down.

For the first few days, Ike kept his defenses up. All of us took our time with him, and eventually he allowed a few of us to sit with him and pet him. Our trainer Jill discovered that the way to his heart was processed cheese spread, and the treat approach helped tremendously. Several days after his arrival, Jill

and I were able to take him to a vet. But, the vet visit brought forth another round of terror for little Ike. We could not get him calm enough for an exam. Finally, after mild sedation, the vet was able to check him over, vaccinate him, and prescribe some antibiotics and topical medications for his scratches and scrapes. Fortunately, he did not have heartworms. So, once he was neutered, he was ready to be adopted.

We did the paperwork to turn him over to CAP. However, knowing his temperament, we all decided that the best course of action was to keep him at Rover Oaks and publish his story on the CAP website, where some kind person might find him and want to meet him. Because it was such a sad little story, and because he is a very cute little dog, we had numerous inquiries in very short order.

The family who took Ike home did not have a lot of previous dog experience, and they had young children . . . a situation that concerned me a bit because I knew he might be prone to lash out in fear. But, they were very sweet and gentle with him, and he seemed comfortable with them. It has worked out very

well for all.

Ike comes to board with us occasionally when his family travels. He is a bit nervous at those times, perhaps because he fears being left behind again. But, we take our time and spoil him while he is with us, and it is obvious that he adores his family and his family adores him! His mom has told me that they feel very blessed to have found him, and that he is “the perfect dog.”

J ACK -J ACK

It was several weeks after Hurricane Ike. Houston was just starting to return to “normal,” though areas of the city were still without power. Firolais, as he was then called, arrived at Rover Oaks unannounced, carried in a crate by a CAP volunteer. We had just taken in two other CAP dogs that were going to stay with us for a month pending the publication of a magazine article about them—but we were not expecting this little guy.

I peeked in the crate and saw, sitting as far back as he could, one of the tiniest poodles I had ever met. He was also probably the most matted and filthy poodle I had ever seen. All of three pounds, this pathetic little creature had been kept as an outside dog for his entire seven years of life and had obviously not

received even the most basic of care. When I reached in to lift him out, I could feel all of the mats on his little chest, hard balls of fur entwined with sticks, burrs and other uncomfortable pieces of matter. He should have been chocolate in color, but had been out in the sun for so long that the hair on his back and

face was almost bleached.

I called one of my contacts at CAP and she told me that they had just gotten him in, surrendered by his owner because the children had “allergies.” She said he was so tiny and in such bad shape that she hoped we might foster him instead of keeping him at the shelter. How could we say no?

The first order of business was to have him groomed. Becky, our Grooming Manager, got to work. He of course needed to be shaved down entirely. He was a pretty good little guy about it until she started working on his face, particularly the left side. We could see that he had a bad eye, full of broken blood vessels (the source of this injury is a mystery), and it seemed to have become infected, as there was a lot of drainage matted into his fur. But, the main source of his discomfort seemed to be in his jaw. We couldn’t tell until she got some of the hair groomed away, but once his face was cleaned up it was pretty apparent that his jaw was broken. He continually opened his mouth and moved his jaw around, trying to get comfortable, but he was obviously in a lot of pain.

One of our employees, who has three tiny Yorkies of her own, agreed to foster him in her home until we could figure out what to do. I called my regular veterinarian, and they had fortunately just reopened after several weeks without power. We made an appointment for little Jack-Jack, as we decided to call him.

Meanwhile, Melissa kept him comfortable at her home, and we concocted a canned food mush for him to eat. One look at little Jack and my vet agreed that he appeared to have a broken jaw. He also examined his eye and said that, while it probably wasn’t uncomfortable, he was certainly blind in that eye. My vet kept him for the day so that he could sedate him for X-rays. X-rays confirmed everyone’s suspicions—his

lower left jaw was in two pieces and one of his teeth was lodged inside the break.

A specialist visit was in order.

My vet referred me to the orthopedics department at Gulf Coast Veterinary Specialists, which also had just reopened from the hurricane. The surgeon took some additional X-rays, which indicated that his jaw was broken simply from neglect. Little Jack at some point had an abscessed tooth that had gone untreated. The infection had made its way into the jawbone, which ultimately resulted in the break. He did not have the proper tools or devices to work on such a tiny dog, so referred me to a Veterinary Dental Clinic.

The dental specialists were both out for a conference, so it was another week until Jack-Jack could get help. In the meantime, he stayed at my house, where he did his best to stay out of the way of the other dogs who, even though most of them are only 10-20 pounds, looked huge compared to this little guy. Jack-Jack did start to come out of his shell, though. We had given him a stuffed toy that was almost as big as he was, and he would carefully move his fuzzy friend to different positions in his crate. He would follow me around and jump up in my lap, wanting nothing more than a little love and attention. After a few days, he would do a “happy dance”—a little four-legged hop in a circle when he would get excited. He even started trying to play in that silly way poodles do: a little play bow, a little mouthing of my hands, a little rolling on his back. He came to work with me everyday, as I did not want to leave him closed in a crate after all he had been through, but I also did not trust that he would not accidentally

get trampled by the other dogs if I left them all out while I was gone.

The dental specialist confirmed the orthopedic surgeon’s findings, and suggested surgery to try to put in some bridgework to heal the gap in his jaw. Jack-Jack would also lose a few teeth in the process, but this was a small price to pay for comfort. He did the surgery and kept him overnight for observation, but called me the next morning to say that it had not held; his bones were just too tiny. The only other option was to take out the appliance and let his jaw heal with scar tissue over time. So, this was what we did. When I picked him up after two days, he already seemed more comfortable.

He was never crazy about his canned dog food, but thoroughly enjoyed finely chopped hamburger mixed with baby food. He was healthy other than the healing in his jaw. We were all absolutely amazed that he did not have heartworms—perhaps the severe matting in his fur prevented any infected mosquitoes from getting to his skin! So, once he was neutered, he was ready to go home. But, since he had now been sedated four times in eight days, we felt he might need a short break before yet another anesthetic procedure for his neuter.

At about that time, a couple had contacted CAP in search of a tiny dog. They had many years of experience with small dog rescue, their children were grown, and they were looking for another companion. CAP had them contact me and we arranged for them to come out to the facility to meet little Jack.

Their first meeting was on a Saturday afternoon. They brought toys for him, and spent several hours with him on that first day. I told them that he would be ready for adoption once he was neutered, so we kept in touch over the next few days. But, I quickly decided that they would offer him a great life where he could be “King Jack,” and that it was in his best interest to get settled into his forever home as soon as possible. We agreed that they would take care of having him neutered in another week, and Jack-Jack went home.

A few weeks after his adoption, his mom e-mailed me that he had come through his neuter surgery with flying colors and was absolutely precious. He had started to do his little four-legged happy dance for them, and was even letting them know his own wishes—such as the fact that he growled to inform his dad that he was not in the mood to go for a walk at 7:00 AM on a Saturday morning. It was a perfect match and a good outcome for a darling little dog who deserved nothing but the best for the rest of his life.