It was time to find a new four-footed friend.  Wicket had been gone for about 5 years. I probably could have loved a new friend sooner but my farm-boy husband and this city girl could not agree. He saw a medium outside dog and I am a total small dog on the bed person.  Suddenly one day he gave in and I started looking.  I thought a recued dog would be the answer to making this work for all of us rather than starting from scratch with a puppy.

I found some darling dogs online offered by Indigo Rescue.  They were going to be showing the dogs at a pet store that weekend and I saw one precious golden Papillion- looking guy.  I got my daughter and off we went.

The golden little angel was there, looking just like he did online, but it turned out there were complications.  His foster mom might be keeping him and he did not like men.  I was told he had been returned to the rescue several times for nipping husbands.  Not a good idea for me and my not-feeling-up-to-snuff hubby.

As I looked around at the other adoptables, Indigo’s leader, Heather Hines, pointed out a little black Chihuahua standing with several other dogs.  She said, “If you want to do something nice, think about her; no one wants her because she’s on medication for a pretty major heart condition.”  I leaned down, let her smell my hand, and picked her up.  While holding her and talking with the person showing her I softly pet her head, she relaxed and closed her eyes.  Somehow I knew and she knew we were both done looking.

Her name was Cosetta, but the nickname Cookie had been used at her foster home.  It was a week before she was brought to my home — a long week!  Before she could be mine I had to get a collar and ID that included her medical info.  I was impressed by the precautions Indigo required in Cookie’s best interests.  I had all the required items plus toys by the time she arrived.

Cookie settled in quickly, loved her backyard jungle, and most of all loved the people she had picked. Little by little she let more of her personality come out, winding us around her little paw.  Surprisingly she was extremely well trained, something I do not excel at.  I have tried hard not to mess it up and she has taught me a lot.

A month after Cookie came into our lives my wonderful husband was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Through the next 10 months while I worked Cookie stayed home with Thomas.  I would find them on the deck napping, Cookie in his lap, tucked into his robe on cool days.  We moved in August 2010 to a one-story home. Unfortunately Thomas was only there for 3 weeks when we had to let him go to a nursing facility.

Cookie is not able to stay home alone all day due to her meds, and besides, that would be a lonely existence.  So Cookie is now a working girl.  Every morning she goes with me to work.  At lunch and after work we would visit Thomas.  Cookie quickly became the darling of all, with people waiting in wheelchairs at hall intersections to greet her. Thomas died on his fourth day there, the last thing he did was pet Cookie.

Cookie and I live in the safe house Thomas picked out for us.  It has a big deck looking over a lake with geese, ducks and a swan.  Every day Cookie goes to work — and pretty much everywhere — with me.  She hates getting up in the morning, preferring to sleep in till 8:30.  When that alarm sounds at 6:30 she ignores me till I tap her bowl signaling “breakfast is ready,” which is her alarm.  She likes soft blankets and has four, one in each of her napping spots . . . the bed, the couch, the car and in an office chair.  She likes her comfort!

People in our office building know Cookie and stop by to visit her.  Many don’t know me.  They say, “Hi Cookie, hi Cookie’s Mom.” 

The thing about Cookie is she looks after me, checking on me if I sneeze too much and sticking close on the occasional sad day.  She is my Rescuer.  Beyond the meds she can just be herself.  We play on the floor every evening.  She has a toybox and sometimes takes all her things out and lays them across the floor.  We take lots of walks during the work day.  I have been warned that Cookie will not have a long life but I will make sure she has the best life I can give her!

Milwaukie, Oregon

Editor’s note:  Tales of Who Rescued Who never grow old.  If you have a special story you’d like to share, send it to publisher@spotmagazine.net.  And, in the New Year, visit us at www.spotmagazine.net — we’re building a meeting place where engaged, interested pet people can connect, learn, hang out and share! 

Jake is almost 14 years old.  We adopted him in 2004 when his “dad” died during a scuba diving trip near Vashon Island.  My sister was pet-sitting him that weekend, and was grooming him when someone knocked on her door and told her what had happened.  The family couldn’t take him, so we did.  His “dad” had diabetes, so in his memory, Jake helped raise almost $3,000 over a two-year period for ADA (he was included in a commercial for the local walk the second year), and has been a therapy dog for the elderly with Alzheimer’s, etc.  One memorable moment was when a woman who hadn’t talked since she arrived at one of the facilities, talked to Jake.  He also does school visits where we incorporate lessons on responsible pet ownership.  Everyone loves Jake, and Jake loves everyone!

Jesse, our Papillon, is three years old and has already earned one obedience and two agility titles.  He is working on his second obedience title now.  Jesse has also been in Greenhill’s Bark in the Park commercial the past two years.  He was a Christmas “gift,” having come to us a day after our 16-year-old female Westie died.

Rusty, our Belgian Malinois, is nine.  We adopted him at LCARA (now LCAS).  He was one of eight puppies born there just before Christmas 2001.  He has three obedience titles.  He and Jesse are best buddies.  Jesse is the only dog Rusty will share his food and toys with.  When Jesse is frightened, he hides behind his "big brother" Rusty.

-from Linda of Eugene, OR

Meet Jake and Scout

Jake and Scout proudly model their Oregon Duck gear.  Loved by all, Jake transports Spot from printing press to HQ each month and is an honorary member of the Spot crew.  Scout is one of Spot’s 4-legged staff.  Go Ducks! 

Buddy with Floyd

Portrait of Buddy by Kathy of Springfield

We miss you so much Sandola.  Every time we look at the window seat, we expect to see you there looking out onto the neighborhood, mostly watching for cats!  We will never forget the teeth clacking sound you made when you wanted a treat or how excited you were to go on big walks with your brothers.

Our lives are forever changed for having you by our side for almost ten years.  A day won’t go by without us missing your beautiful black and white muzzle.

Christy, Mike and brothers Shermie and Bruisy

It’s been nearly a year since you’ve left us but it doesn’t seem that long ago because there are so many little things around the house that remind us of you … the family photo that greets us at the front door, those nose marks “of the mighty fly hunter” on the window that we haven’t had the heart to wash away just yet … You’ve touched so many hearts. We miss you, Clara Bell….

Andrea, Mike & “little brother” Brody

The puppies endured terrible abuse and neglect. They were found chained in the snow, with no food or water, surrounded by the bodies of deceased canines. Paige Powell, who once worked for Andy Warhol's Interview Magazine and is a well known and loved animal advocate, got a call about the sisters. She called Connie Theil, who immediately drove to Washington to get them, as the two were in imminent danger of being euthanized due to their extreme fear of people.

It took Connie a year to socialize Carson and Laura, as they cowered whenever humans approached and knew nothing about living inside a house. The pair was featured on several television news shows about the horrors of puppy mills.  Eventually, they were able to go on walks, go to the beach, and really enjoy life with their new family.

Carson, who once appeared on the cover of Spot, preceded her sister in death by several years.

Laura was still taking her daily walk a week before her death at age 14 yrs, 8 months.

Laura, also fondly known as “LoLo,” passed away Dec. 9 and was interred Dec. 10 in NE Portland next to her sister, and many other friends.

Donations in her name to GREY2K USA a nonprofit dedicated to ending the cruel “sport” of dog racing. Contact them at grey2usa.org or 617-666-3526. 

Rebecca Yazzie 

Here is the precious tale she shared

The Story of Tanya and Summer

 “But she chose ME.”

Photo by TanyaThose 4 simple words, spoken by an 11-year-old girl, started the love affair without our even knowing it.

Tanya, our foster kiddo, had been on a trip to the Oregon Humane Society, and she returned a young woman with a mission. The dog, she reported, was named Summer. She was a two-year-old Beagle, just a tiny bit bigger than my Mom’s dog Buddy.

Prior to Tanya coming into my life, it needs to be said that my mom’s house was very normal in terms of pets. Hers was a two cat, one dog household, and had been for years. Things changed when Tanya came along. The kid had persuasion skills a hostage negotiator would envy. She would bide her time, drop a hint at the right time, and find any small hole in my mom’s defenses. In less than two years, my mother accumulated the dog and two cats, two hamsters and two parakeets. The Noah’s Ark jokes hit close to home and weren’t always funny. 

And now a dog had chosen her. My mom and I drove to OHS with tremendous apprehension. We chatted nervously about how we were quite sure that a small young dog would have already been claimed; that we would just check to be sure, then have the joy of reporting same to Tanya.

The dog’s name was Summer, and she was at least part beagle. That much was true. However she was listed as seven years old, and was more than “a tiny bit bigger” than Buddy, the 9-pound Lhasa Apso. We asked to take Summer outside for a bit and the poor old girl could barely get up. She made no eye contact, no big kisses, no attempts to prolong our time together.

A rational person would have gathered their composure and moved on. Luckily for all concerned, my mom and I both have bouts of overwhelming lack of reasoning. We filled out all the paperwork. We signed everything. We put Summer in the Subaru and drove away.

Later that day when we surprised Tanya with the dog, magic happened. Summer sat up and flashed a million dollar smile. She chased a ball for hours until she had to rest.

A visit to the vet soon after Summer’s arrival pegged her at age 9 or 10, with more than a few health problems. Ears. Digestive. Teeth. Etc. After listening carefully, Tanya’s only question for the vet was, “Do you think anyone ever took good care of this dog?”

Our vet — quite possibly the sweetest man on earth — thought for a moment and replied that he wasn’t sure, and that maybe somebody had owned her who couldn’t take good care of her for whatever reason.

Watching Tanya’s face I finally got it. Summer needed to be rescued, just as Tanya had two years before. Both girl and dog had spent many years of struggle, and now Tanya could rescue a creature who so deserved it.

It is impossible to adequately describe their mutual adoration. Tanya is 15 now. Approaching her 12^th birthday she considered what she wanted most for her birthday. She finally decided on….a dog house . . . proudly displayed to this day in the front yard of Noah’s, I mean Nan’s, Ark. Tanya and Summer camp out in their own tent on my mom’s deck. I have no doubt that Summer has been able to hear about all the things from Tanya’s past that might never be shared with me or other humans.

Tanya is well aware that her time with Summer could be short. Where uncertainty like that can make adults timid, it seems to inspire Tanya to fully relish every trip to the dog park, and every quiet walk through the front yard.

They say that love finds you when you least expect it. I have more reason to believe that now that I have experienced one old dog finding, and falling for, one young girl. Life brought them together for a reason, and it was all wrapped up in those four little words:

“But she chose ME”.

Shared by Kris Henriksen, Portland

It was close to my birthday, and I was watching the paper. We weren’t sure we were ready, but had found some puppies and decided to just look. Yeah right, just look.

This was to be my birthday dog, but I wasn’t particularly sold on any of the pups. But my daughter fell in love with a cute dapple male, and my husband, Jay, had a female in his arms, petting and talking to her. He asked what I thought. “I don't know,” I said. He looked at me again and said, “We'll take this one.”