EIGHTY PEOPLE WITH FIVE DOLLARS CAN SAVE A LIFE!!!

THIS IS ZEINA----she needs your help to have an operation to remove her leg. Other wise, she will be put to sleep.

This post via Facebook from the HICKMAN COUNTY HUMANE SOCIETY:

"Zeina needs surgery to have her leg amputated, she is a stray that was found starving and injured. She has been shot and her entire hip is out of socket, it is a miracle this girl is even able to walk, but it is not a pretty site, she is contorted into a "s" shape when she walks. Please help HHS cover the cost of her surgery to save her life, without it, she will have to be humanely euthanized. THANK YOU!!! ."

WE CAN'T LET THIS HAPPEN FOLKS!

Look at that face! Doesn't she deserve a chance to SMILE??? Even though she will only have three legs--DOESN'T SHE DESERVE A CHANCE TO BE HAPPY AND TO BE LOVED????

PLEASE VISIT THE LINK BELOW and make A  $5 donation. 

YES--I'm at it again--FIVE DOLLARS!!!  Do without that pack of cigarettes--or that StarBucks coffee--or whatever snack you get out of the machine at work every day.
YOU CAN EXTEND A LIFE TODAY instead of your waistline!!!!

 IF WE GET 80 PET PEOPLE TO DONATE--we will help the HICKMAN COUNTY HUMANE SOCIETY SAVE THIS BABY!

SHARE SHARE SHARE-this information with everyone who loves animals!!! 80 PEOPLE NEED to see this TODAY!


http://tankhickmanhumanesociety.chipin.com/zeinas-leg-amputation-surgery

FROM ALL OF US AT DOGWOOD: A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Christmas at Dogwood is usually two things: very blessed and very CAXIOTIC.
The move from the old house on Madison Street added a new twist of both to the preparations we made this year to welcome ole St. Nick.

First off, as we not have the stone fire place and the gas log setting in our living room, we decided it was time to break out the original six foot tree that used to adorn our living area before our first little four legged family member came to us.

I had forgotten what a pain in the backside it was to fit all the little branches in all the right places, but after a period of trial and error, the tree finally stood fully assembled.

Then it was decided that we would have a waiting period before we tried to decorate it. This made perfect sense, as we now have six of Santa’s little “helpers” at Dogwood with enough curiosity to fill every stocking within a six mile radius.

So we waited.

Two weeks later, the little tree still stood (of miracles of miracles) and absolutely no one had made a single effort to disturb, discombobulate, or dismember even one of its delicate fake branches. With the period of adjustment out of the way, it was time for the true test---adding decorations!

Now, as some of you know, since Lucy came to live with us eight long years ago, we had opted for what we loving call the “tree in a box”. The little Dollar General tree came fully decorated and could be easily folded up and slid back into its cardboard domicile until it was again needed. In the years since the little tree arrived, slowly but surely, the decorations for the large tree had either been discarded or permanently lost in the void. Once again, the move to the new house had destroyed any memory of what I had done with them.

But, as ALL of you know, I am a packrat.

In a Rubbermaid tote marked Christmas, I keep ornaments and such for my grandmothers little four foot aluminum tree—all blue and silver. So this is what we used to adorn the newly reassembled six foot tree that stood in the living room

The decorating of the tree contained dialogue much akin to a Three Stooges script:

“Stop chewing that!”

“Bring that back here!”

“Charlie you’re gonna electrocute yourself if you chew that chord!”

“Bart get down from there!”

“Whoooo Whoo WHoo WHoo!”

Needless to say, after all ornamental objects were retrieved and the dog and cat slobber removed, the tree was decorated. Finally, after inspecting all chords for teeth marks and determining that the house would not burn down around us, I flipped on the lights.

I had forgotten, over the years, how beautiful a Christmas tree can be.

The stone mantle is filled with eight stockings. Even though my sweet Pearl is no longer with us, we still hang her stocking, and God help me, I still put gifts in it.

She is and will forever be, a child of Dogwood and part of its memory: past and future.

So now we settled in for a long winters nap, and await the jolly old elf Santa Paws to drop down our new chimney and spread a little Christmas Cheer (and a few new DVD’s if you please ole fella).

As I sit by the fireplace, and watch the glow of the soft light reflect off the shiny bobbles that hang in the lush greenery, all of my babies are around me. I know that there are so many who have never, and possibly may never, know warmth, or a home, or even the slightest bit of love. For that I mourn.

But at Dogwood, God has been so good to us. I thank him for our home, our family, for the warmth of the season, and for the gift of his son to a world that desperately needed him.

I hope all of you have a wonderful, loving Christmas. I also hope that the New Year will bring you happiness, love, and the wonder of miracles.

A Very, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from your friends at Dogwood: Brett, Better Half, Lucy, Charlie, Hines, Daisy, Bart and Sebastian

CHRISTMAS TAILS-TWICE TOLD:PRECIOUS MISS PHOEBE

Pictured: Precious Miss Phoebe

This is another story from the past--it appeared in the Leaf Chronicle in January 2009. It's the story of a little dog who wasn't the prettiest, wasn't the best, but found love in someone's heart and lived the remainder of her life in splendor. Isn't that what Christmas is all about???



Every so often, something really special happens in the animal rescue world that gives hope to the cause.


Such was the story of the life of the wonderful canine known to us as Ms. Phoebe, who passed over the Rainbow Bridge on Christmas Eve.
Against all odds and obstacles, she did something no one ever expected her to do. She found a place in someone's heart, and happiness in a forever home.

The journey began four years ago, under the same circumstances as most abandoned animals: stuffed in a carrier in the dark of night. She was left by the dumpster at Cats Are Us here in Clarksville.

The nine year old dog had already been dealt a rough hand and didn't have much going for her. She was missing one eye missing, and part of her left ear. Her crooked teeth made her look even stranger. She was unattractive, unkempt, and unspayed.
But even though physically defective, a light of love and devotion dazzled within this dog like that of a shining star.

Her picture was posted on the petfinder.com website along with the other adoptable animals. No one thought Phoebe (then named Jackie), would ever leave the shelter walls.

Now, I've always said that angels speak to people and pair them with the animal they need and that needs them. Some people hear those tiny voices, and sadly some people ignore them and close their hearts. They miss out on the wonderful love and devotion they could have had, leaving the animal's purpose unfulfilled and  its existence to fate.
Poor little Jackie patiently waited for the day that someone would answer the whispering of the angels and find her.

Susan Green of Lexington, Kentucky heard them loud and clear. She was looking through the adoptable pets on the petfinder.com site when she came upon Jackie's picture. She fell in love with the gentle disfigured face that she saw. A few days later, Jackie became Phoebe, and Susan became Mommy.
Phoebe lived the life of Riley with Susan and her family. What amazed her new Mom the most was Phoebe's undying devotion and her willingness to follow her anywhere; even into the bathroom.

Phoebe enjoyed the best of care, and constant love and attention. She was pampered and even had her own plastic pool to cool herself from the summer sun.
The story of Phoebe's adoption spread through to rescuers and shelters all over. Through that tale, Phoebe and Susan have helped animals in similar situations, pushing home the morals of, "Never judge a book by its cover", "Beauty is only skin deep." And "Anything is Possible".

Little unwanted, un-pretty, Phoebe, who someone had dumped in the night, was a rescuer in her own right.

A few months ago, Phoebe's health began to fail. Her mobility became to lessened, her appetite faded, and she began to experience kidney trouble.

On Christmas Eve, Phoebe went into kidney failure. The decision to end her suffering was made, and the light that had burned so bright and touched so many hearts, faded from our sight and into God's.

Phoebe lived her natural life in a flawed body, but I know in my heart that the moment she trotted into Heaven, she was whole, perfect and ready to play.

That's a fitting end for Miss. Phoebe: running free and unblemished in the fields of the Lord.

Phoebe's legacy will inspire others. I wanted to share it with all of you. I have re- told it 1000 times, so we can chalk this one 1001.
This is for Phoebe and Susan, and for all the creatures out there those have that tiny flaw and are waiting for that one special person who will accept them, defects included, and see the true beauty they hold inside.

One day they will finally hear," I love you."

LUCY'S FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE

Yes, another story from the past--but my Christmas stories are told every year--and they become more special each time I tell them. ENJOY!  The pic is my little LUCY on her first Christmas at the old Dogwood house on Madison Street.

There had always been a Christmas tree at Dogwood.


The first was an eight foot, artificial monstrosity that soon became too much of a chore to assemble and take down. So after a few years, we put the four foot top half in a bucket and decorated that.

On December 6, 2003, Christmas… and everyday life, changed forever when 10 week old Lucy entered our lives. With her arrival, puppy proofing became a way of life and effected all previous traditions. I was weary of what might happen if we put up a Christmas tree.

Then I had an inspiration. Instead of adding something new to a room, I would decorate a small palm tree that Lucy saw every day. As Lucy’s first Christmas tree, I thought it could still be special and hopefully, less of a target.

Wrong !

A day later, I discovered a tangle of broken limbs, smashed globes, broken lights, and shredded tinsel.

With bits of garland still clinging to her behind, Lucy looked up at me as if to say, “I didn’t do it.”

No amount of repair or training could alter Lucy’s dislike for the funny looking leafy thing that blinked. She destroyed the tree twice more before I finally accepted the sad fact that there would never be another Christmas tree at Dogwood.

While shopping on Christmas Eve, Better Half and I discovered a four foot, pre-decorated, pre- lit “tree in the box”. It was “plug and play: no assembly required.

Something inside me clicked, and I bought one. It cost me ten bucks, and renewed my faith in our country’s ability to buy products made in Taiwan.

At home, Lucy followed me into the living room and watched intently as I pulled her first real Christmas tree from its box. It was decorated with tiny multicolored globes, silver garland, and had a little star on top. Her tail wagged with excitement as I plugged the tree’s electrical chord into the wall.

An amazing exhibition of light and color, produced by the miracle of fiber optics, burst forth. As the thin fiber strands slowly changed from red, to green, to blue, and then back to red, Lucy watched in awe.

It was the most peaceful Christmas Eve I can remember. With Lucy in my lap, Better Half and I sat watching the little tree, quietly talking about Christmases past.

As the colors danced in the branches and across the walls before us, Lucy slowly drifted off to sleep.

Seven years, and four additions later, Lucy’s first Christmas tree comes to life every December.

Now Lucy is grown, and the little tree doesn’t hold the same allure. Much like Christmas, its glowing colors now hold fascinate of the young babies: little Hines, Daisy, and Bart.

There will always be a Christmas tree at Dogwood, and babies to love it.

May peace, love, and goodness find us all in coming year.

From the pack at Dogwood : Have a very, Merry Christmas.

AN OLDIE-BUT STILL A GOODY--"SNOT" FOR CHRISTMAS

I wrote this several years ago--but it still brings tears to my eyes today--and it has become one of my favorite Christmas miracle stories. It appears here in it's original, unedited format.
Though I'm sure many of you read it before--I hope you still enjoy it--and most of all--see the wonderous works of God's miracles in it's words.

 Twas Christmas Eve at Cats Are Us, and I was attempting to give all my feline and canine friends who live there some holiday cheer. The back building is where I spend a lot of my volunteer time. Most folks who enter the front building rarely see the rest. That building is the “prep” area. In other words, most of our little guests in this part of the shelter are working their way towards being an adoptable pet. What I mean by adoptable is that they have had their shots, been fixed, and had all the tests performed to assure no feline diseases are lurking about. But then there are others that will always make their home here. There are some that are a little on the ornery side, some that are physically challenged, and then others that suffer health issues.


On this particular Christmas Eve, Gherta had asked me to sterilize a carrier and set it up for a new occupant away from the rest of the cats. A few minutes after this was done, Suzanne brought in a little guy who was suffering from upper respiratory illness. When I looked at him, it tore my heart out. The poor little guy was breathing like he had smoked four packs a day for twenty years. He had sneezed so much that his nose had begun to bleed. His eyes were so infected that they pulled back into slits. The fur on his head, front legs, and neck was greasy and damp, leaving his back end dry and looking relatively normal. In short, he was a mess.

“Oh God,” I said. “Is he going to live?”

“Sure he will!” she said with a non committal look. “He’ll be fine.”

God Bless her. She was trying to be positive but not set me up for the fall. The little guy was ill, and by listening to the state of his breathing, his fate could turn either way.

The little cat had been medicated and his eyes creamed, and now I made my attempt to place him in the carrier. It was a dog carrier, so I had plenty of room to slip him inside. But the only thing that sick little guy wanted to do was lie in my arms and rub his head into my shoulder. He may have been deathly ill, but this little guy knew that it was Christmas Eve, and he wasn’t about to act sick. I held him close to me and stroked his messy, nappy fur. He sneezed into my shirt.

“I’ll call you Snot.” I said, loving on him as he purred thru his runny nose.

“Why not Sniffles?” Gherta suggested. “That’s a cute name.”

“Snot.” I said, examining the smear on my shirt sleeve. “It fits him.”

I finally got the little rascal into his new home and covered it with a towel so that his sneezes wouldn’t spread the germs around. I tried to go back to my duties, but I kept finding myself under the towel, talking to Snot, telling him that God loved him and that everything would be alright. He purred softly and rubbed his little head against my hand. I was hooked.

Christmas Day arrived, and when I got to Cats Are Us, I made my way straight to the back room to Snot’s cage. There he was, perky and rolling around on his little cat bed. He still looked the same, but even sick, he was just as happy as every other “child” was that Christmas morning. I worked the room and made my usual 50 trips to look under the towel and say “Peek a Boo” to the little guy. He was happily purring away between sneezes, nudging my fingers that curled thru the metal door to rub his fur.

The next day, I had to stay home. My washing machine drain has been clogged up three times in the past two months, and the wash was piling up. So I figured that it was time to be “Joe the Plummer” and get that fixed up. I ended up making a bigger mess—but more on that one later.

On Saturday morning, I got to the shelter and made my way to the back building where Snot’s cage was. I was already talking to him when I lifted the towel from the front of the kennel. But I stopped suddenly.

The kennel was empty.

I tried to be good, but the tears welled up in my eyes as I looked all around the room for my little Snot. Anyone who volunteers at an animal shelter knows that there are good times and bad. It’s as much a part of an animal’s life as is it a humans. When you work a shelter, you just suck it up and try to let the good out weigh the bad, and try to make more good things happen so that the bad is over shadowed by it. But sometimes, no matter how hard you try—you get a kick in the gut.

I firmly believe animals arrive at shelters and rescues because God has a mission for them. That animal is on this Earth to touch lives and provided unconditional love and comfort to a human heart that desperately needs it. God talks to these hearts and leads them to the shelters and rescues, and to that animal created just for them.

When I play and love on these creatures for months on end, and suddenly they die, it’s as if everyone involved has been cheated by fate. The only reasoning I can use to comfort myself at times like this is that the heart that God was speaking to just refused to listen to what he was trying to tell them. So, God decided that the animal was better off with him anyway as there is no better forever home than with God.

Sometimes this scenario provides comfort. Sometimes it’s just pitiful.

I didn’t find Snot anywhere else in the building. I tried to tell myself over and over that he was better off now and that at least he had spent his last hours safe and warm as opposed to the damp cold where he had been rescued from. I was about to go off in a corner and have myself a melt down when another regular volunteer came into the room.

“Your little friend took a turn of the worse yesterday.” she said as she began to move the trash cans around to clean. “His eye infection was worse.”

I nodded and tried to look the other way so she wouldn’t see my grief. I finally got enough of my voice to speak.

“When did he die?” I asked.

She spun around as if I had hit her in the back with a broom. “He didn’t die!” she exclaimed. “He spent the night at the vet’s office!”

Now it was time to cry.

“OH!” I said, feeling as if the weight of the world had lifted off my shoulders. “OH!!!! OK!!!”

“I’m going to pick him up in just a bit. “She smiled, cluing in on what I had been thinking.

Within the hour, Snot was once again lying in my arms, purring away. His adventure to the vet’s office hadn’t harmed him one bit. His little eyes had been medicated with a different antibiotic and were looking much better, and the congestion was less now. All Snot wanted to do was love on me and be loved on. As I held him in my arms and listened to his purring voice, I quietly thanked the Lord for saving him and letting the vet know what to do for him. Snot ate a good meal of soft food, did his business, and played with his jingle ball while I cleaned the other areas around his. When I left for the day, I said a little prayer “with” him and knew that he would be fine.

I call the shelter everyday to check on Snot. I am happy to report that he’s doing well, eating like a horse and getting better everyday with the help of medication and loving care from Gherta and Suzanne. Pretty soon he will be well enough to be with the other felines and not spread the germs of his cold.

He has officially been named “Mistletoe”—(YUCK)—but that doesn’t matter to me. They can name him Plumb Pudding for all I care—as long as he is healthy and happy and we can find him a loving home.

He’ll always be my little Snot.

KEEPING OUR HEARTS IN CHRISTMAS--HELP SANTA PAWS THIS YEAR

Pictured: Little Phineus was once a foster in the Humane Society program. Though he was adopted into a forever home, but before that- he received love and affection in his foster home and was supported by the HS Program.

Below is the link to an article submitted to the Clarksville Leaf Chronicle which tells all about the SANTA PAWS program that the Humane Society organizes each year. The article was written by AMY SHAVER, and she is a hard act to follow--so I will let you read Amy's written word.
Dogwood has always doen it's best to support this program, and if you think you can help in anyway--please do.
THANK YOU!
 HELP SANTA PAWS PROGRAM

BUT FOR THE TOUCH OF A PAW ON MY HEART--THERE WOULD BE NO DOGWOOD--HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUCY

Pictured-Top--Lucy at 6 mos
Bottom Lucy at seven years

Eight years ago today, my life changed forever.

It was on this day, December 6th, in the year of our Lord 2003, that Better Half and I adopted a ten week old, female, black lab puppy from Animal Control. We named the little one Lucy.

OK—lots of people adopt animals—THANK GOD—so what, you might ask, made this one so special?

To explain that, we must part the veil of time, and begin the story from an appropriate point—2002 BD (before Dogwood).

Better Half and I had been together seven years in 2002. We had experienced our ups and downs and all of the really fun stuff that all couples tread thru once the honeymoon is more than over with. All and all, I thought we were in a good place in our relationship and in our lives. But through all of our gives and takes and being flexible with each other’s needs and wants, there was a sore spot that just would not go away.

Better Half wanted a dog.

Now in 2002, though we were quite a bit more settled than we had been in the partying 90’s, we were still not known for being big on responsibility. Don’t get me wrong—we both worked and paid taxes and kept the lights on, etc. That’s not the kind of responsibility I am referring to. The type of responsibility I speak of is that which would concern the care and well being of another LIVING THING. A dog was a tremendous responsibility—a life whose happiness and livelihood would depend upon our decision making ability and our choices.

Uh—no way.

There was also a waxy build up over my heart from having it horribly broken. I had lost my childhood dog, King, in 1981. He had been my pal from my first memories until I was in the eighth grade before he crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. I had told myself that having a dog had been part of my childhood—and now that I was an adult ,such things did not have a place in my life. Dogs and cats were kid stuff--nuff said.

In truth, I still mourned that sweet old mutt who had owned part of me. There was no room in my heart for another.

So with that barrier of ice around my ticker, I did everything I could think of to rub the furry sore spot out of my life with the Better Half. I tried to appease the need for a pet with a fish tank (they died), I bought stuffed animals (Goodwill anyone?), I even went as far as to buy one of those first robot dogs (FYI-those first ones were EXPENSIVE), but alas—Better Half would not be happy until the house had been invaded by there something furry that crapped on the rug.

Being the brilliant mind that I am, I decided to take Better Half by the dog pound ever so often so that the animals could enjoy that wonderful love that was being offered. It was win/win: they got love and Better Half got a fill of fur without having to bring anything home.

Yes—I was one of those people. My heart was so unwilling to let anything in that I was willing to give that false hope to animals who were literally dying to be loved.

But God--having an even MORE BRILLIANT and DEVIOUS mind than mine--really got sneaky on me.

ON December 6th, 2003, on a routine trip to the pound, I got a kick in the backside, and a jolt of L-O-V-E that would irrevocably change my existence forever.

I was confronted by a tiny pair of the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, carried by a tiny black frame with floppy ears. Those two little peepers were so powerful, that they looked down all the way down into my soul and busted up the ice around it. I can actually tell you the exact moment that Lucy stole my heart, and with a power I have never fully understood--made it whole again.

Cute story, huh? But lots of people get the mushies when they see puppies. So once again you may ask—why was this adoption so special??

It’s pretty simple really: If there had been no Lucy—LIFE WOULD HAVE  BEEN QUITE DIFFERENT.

Those soul searching eyes and that little heart beat gave birth to a dynasty and laid the ground work for an oasis for canines and felines that would later become known as Dogwood.

If not for those blue/brown windows to the soul and their power over me, seven of the fur bound residents that followed, and the two fosters that found temporary safety within Dogwood’s walls, might not have made it.

Every rescue and shelter with 75 miles has benefited by Lucy’s adoption.

If not for Lucy’s presence and influence in our lives, there would have been no involvement with the Humane Society or Cats Are Us, or Precious Friends, or any other rescue. There would have been no donations, no volunteerism, no Leaf Chronicle Pet People Columns, and no Dogwood Blog, because there would have been no Dogwood to blog about!

If I had turned and walked away from that little puppy eight years ago, I would not have many of the wonderful friends that I have today.  Without our involvement in rescue and shelters, I would have never have met them.

I also would not have experienced the blessings from the miracles we have been a part of. It has been by joining hands with pet owners and rescuers that I have seen  proof of what good people can still accomplish by working as one.  Together we have shared the ability to help animals who are hurt, dying, or without hope.
Yes--no matter how you cut it---it ALL boils down to the very existence of that little furry female that wormed her way into my house, my bed, and my heart and paved the way for others to follow.

One moment in my life—one decision—changed more lives and rippled out into the animal rescue community in waves of both success and heartbreak.

But for the touch of a paw on my heart—none of it would have happened at all. That’s what is so special.

So Happy Birthday Lucy—and Happy Birthday Dogwood.

May you both have many, many more to come.

GIVE THE GIFT OF LIFE THIS HOLIDAY SEASON

It’s Christmas time.


The world becomes covered in pine boughs, garlands, red satin bows and bells. Our minds are overtaken with a new appreciation for family and friends, and we bask in our memories of Christmas past and better times. Homes become more welcoming, hearts become warmer, and spirits seem lighter. We all hope that somewhere, somehow, that man kinds prayers will be answered and that our longing for peace on Earth might actually become a reality.

At your local pound, there is a different longing.

In the lines of kennels that fill Animal Control buildings throughout the United States, dogs and cats of all shapes, colors and sizes sit in silence. None of them understand why they are here, what they did wrong, or how it all came to this. If you look into their eyes, you see the tag which has been stamped on their already broken hearts: abandoned, stray, unwanted, surrendered. They are all but forgotten by the humans that they loved, the evidence of their life in a place they once called home long since erased.

None are immune. Among these sad and sober faces of mutts and unwanted felines are also those of pure breed and proud lineage. Siamese, Persian, Exotic, Labrador Retriever, German Shepherd, Yorkies, Jack Russell’s: they are all present and accounted for in a placed where breed and culture mean absolutely, positively nothing. Here in the silent darkness, where hope, love, and comfort are overshadowed by fear, loneliness, and despair, they are all of one kind: lost.

For many who occupy these kennels and cages, the final stroke of a pen and the prick of a needle will wipe away the last proof that they were even here at all.

Here the purest and most loyal hearts ever created count away the hours to the end of their existence. A bombardment of prayer more sincere than most anything human, pummels Heaven repeatedly with one pleading request:

“Please God, Please let me live.”

When you read this, did God speak to your heart? Did he tell you to be the answer to one of those prayers? Will you listen? Their lives are depending on your giving them your full attention, and saving them.

Help answer these prayers and give the Christmas story of a dog or cat facing destruction a happy ending. Let the joy and love of God and Christmas live in your home year round by sharing your life with one of these broken hearts who need you so desperately. COMMIT TO A LIFE TIME relationship with an animal who will be the most loyal, loving friend you will ever have on Earth.
The clock is ticking THEIR lives away--ADOPT OR FOSTER from your local Animal Control and change the existence of one of these dogs or cats FUREVER.
 In doing this, you give the greatest gift in existence: life.

UPDATE ON BUSTER-SAVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is BUSTER and he is currently at the CHEATHAM COUNTY ANIMAL CONTROL. HIS TIME WAS RUNNING OUT FAST!!!!!!!!! HE NEEDED A HERO TO STEP UP AND FOSTER HIM so that he can receive PAID FOR medical care!!!


AND HE GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BUT IN CASE SOMEONE IS INTERESTED IN ADOPTING BUSTER--I"M GOING TO LEAVE HIS INFO HERE.
Here is is his bio:

BUSTER is a 3 year old male Chocolate Lab mix. He weighs 60 pounds and he is current on vaccinations. BUSTER was abandoned by his owner - who is a convicted felon. His owner tied him to his abandoned trailer, with no food or water. When we got to BUSTEr he was thirsty, hungry, and thin with his ribs showing. BUSTER has been a great dog at Animal Control! He is friendly with other dogs and people. He doesn't seem to be interested in cats much at all. BUSTER is great on the leash too! BUSTER is Heartworm Positive - but he has a sponsor for his treatment - and Heartworm is condition that is totally treatable! This boy is handsome, loving and very very thankful for any attention he gets. He's a gentle dog and he would be a good family pet! PLEASE call Animal Control at: 615-792-3647 THANK YOU!!!! TJ Jordi, Director, Cheatham County Animal Control

A statement from Clarksville AC Director Karen Josephson about Buster

"I rescued BUSTER when I was with Cheatham County Animal Control. He was tied to an abandoned trailer by his owner. A man who is a convicted Pedophile who treated BUSTER horribly. BUSTER is HW positive - but has a sponsor for the slow kill treatment. BUSTER is a joyful Chocolate Lab Mix - and he...'s affectionate and playful and a happy. HE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE and he is at risk of not making it out this week!!! 615-792-3647 ". Buster had a last minute adoption to save him but it fell through. His life is REALLY on the line and could be ending very shortly. This is a last ditch plea to save him.

So now that BUSTER will be fostered and receive his heart worm treatment, now all he needs is a forever home to take him, love him, and GIVE HIM THE LIFE he DESERVED in the FIRST PLACE.

If you are interested in teaching this boy what life could be like with a LOVING FAMILY--call the number listed above.

UPDATE ON BUSTER__SAVED!!! FOSTER ACCOMPLISHED!!!!!!!!!!!

Thsis is BUSTER and he is currently at the CHEATHAM COUNTY ANIMAL CONTROL. HIS TIME WAS RUNNING OUT FAST!!!!!!!!! HE NEEDED A HERO TO STEP UP AND FOSTER HIM  so that he can receive PAID FOR medical care!!!

AND HE GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

BUT IN CASE SOMEONE IS INTERESTED IN ADOPTING BUSTER--I"M GOING TO LEAVE HIS INFO HERE.
Here is is his bio:
BUSTER is a 3 year old male Chocolate Lab mix. He weighs 60 pounds and he is current on vaccinations. BUSTER was abandoned by his owner - who is a convicted felon. His owner tied him to his abandoned trailer, with no food or water. When we got to BUSTEr he was thirsty, hungry, and thin with his ribs showing. BUSTER has been a great dog at Animal Control! He is friendly with other dogs and people. He doesn't seem to be interested in cats much at all. BUSTER is great on the leash too! BUSTER is Heartworm Positive - but he has a sponsor for his treatment - and Heartworm is condition that is totally treatable! This boy is handsome, loving and very very thankful for any attention he gets. He's a gentle dog and he would be a good family pet! PLEASE call Animal Control at: 615-792-3647 THANK YOU!!!! TJ Jordi, Director, Cheatham County Animal Control


A statement from Clarksville AC Director Karen Josephson about Buster
"I rescued BUSTER when I was with Cheatham County Animal Control. He was tied to an abandoned trailer by his owner. A man who is a convicted Pedophile who treated BUSTER horribly. BUSTER is HW positive - but has a sponsor for the slow kill treatment. BUSTER is a joyful Chocolate Lab Mix - and he...'s affectionate and playful and a happy. HE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE and he is at risk of not making it out this week!!! 615-792-3647 ". Buster had a last minute adoption to save him but it fell through. His life is REALLY on the line and could be ending very shortly. This is a last ditch plea to save him.
SO IT'S NOW OR NEVER FOLKS--PLEASE HELP SAVE THIS LIFE !!!!!!! Pass this--share it--call somebody you know--BUT DO IT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TO KEEP HEARTS BEATING: KENO-ANOTHER LIFE SAVED

Pictured; Top--Keno at Animal Control--Bottom--JACK in his new home



I’m into self torture.

Every week I scout the petfinder pages of the Clarksville Animal Control and run my heart thru the shredder, wondering how many of those new fuzzy faces will escape and how many will be forced over the Rainbow Bridge because no one wanted them.

I had been posting these lost souls individually, over and over and over and over on my Face Book page. But there have gotten to be so many animals at the pound that I can’t manage a personal write up for each one anymore. So I have taken to a quickie method of posting the actual link so that the casually curious can go in and scout out their own new best friend.

No matter how they get posted, I live in the fantasy of hoping that SOMEONE will see the dog or cat of their dreams and run down there to save them.

By God’s grace—sometimes fantasy becomes reality.

Little Keno had been at Animal Control for a while, and his time was slowly but surely running out. Cute as a button and sweeter than honey dew, this little guy was continuously overlooked by adopters and rescues, and it wasn’t looking like he would make it.

I pounded Facebook into the ground with his little face. I wrote some of my best mushy, heart breaking comments under them. But still, little Keno sat watching the clock.

But then, I received an email from Lori, a fellow animal warrior and work colleague,saying that she and her hubby just couldn’t take it anymore and they had decided to adopt Keno.

Lori drove to Clarksville and saved that little soul, renaming him Jack, and setting him on the road to a place where most pets of the true and the brave animal owners end up: SPOILED ROTTEN TOWN.

Keno was saved, and I thanked God for the miracle.

But though I was overjoyed that Keno was saved, there were many others who were just as lovable—just as deserving—that didn’t make it.

I try not to question God’s will—but when I know that a innocent, living things heart has stopped beating, it’s hard not to buckle.

But I have to hold onto the victories, remember the miracles, and keep on posting those faces, and writing these blogs, and emailing rescues and possible adopters, and asking people to consider fostering and whatever else I can do that might pull ANOTHER victory in favor of another life being saved.

And I can look at little Keno, and thank God for people like Lori, and keep on trucking.

ATTACK OF THE CONE HEAD

Since we moved to the new Dogwood, all six of my four legged felons have been experiencing a period of adjustment to their new surroundings. During that time, we have had little accidents and little burst of temper (mine), and other quirks that have developed along the way.


One BAD quirk was developed by little Daisy, who chewed and licked her leg until she developed a raw, ugly sore. I tried my best to keep ointment on it and wrapped it at night so that the medicated gel could actually soak into her leg and not her tongue. But after a few days, the spot grew deep red and became puffy, and I knew we would be seeing the new vet again very soon.

I have no issues with going to a vet’s office. I do have an issue with getting there. Vet visits mean hog tying a dog or cat into the car, holding them there, and usually arriving covered in hair, fur, slobber, and in some cases, my own blood.

So on Saturday morning, I took an extra nerve pill, put Daisy’s leash and harness on her, and started for the door. She went BONKERS at the thought of going outside the gate of the fenced in yard. Her case of excitement was so severe that I finally just picked her up and put her in the car instead of trying to gain any type of control to lead her there.

Better Half drove the car, and I did my best to keep the Mexican jumping bean from leaping from back seat to front seat.

After about a mile, Daisy became entranced by the passing scenery and stopped bucking like a Texas mule . But she still wanted nothing more but to be in the front seat. I finally relented and prepared to put the strangle hold on the little octopus to keep her in place.

Strangle hold not required.

Daisy leaped into my lap and sat as quiet and still as a toddler, watching the scenery pass by and looking at me every few seconds with a smile that could melt steel wool. She was a very good girl all the rest of the way to the vet, and did very, very well in the office.

Unfortunately, Daisy’s little lick fetish had infected the skin and she was placed on antibiotics and was fitted for a head cone. I’m very glad we went to the vet, as she had already started another spot on the other leg. The cone will hopefully deter the licking until the spots heal, and then we will try Black Cherry therapy in hopes that the awful taste will keep her from doing it again.

SO for now, I have a canine cone head that keeps jacking my jaw when she leaps up to give me “lubbins”.

But you know—that’s OK. You see, Daisy is one of the seven most special beings in my world. As long as she is healthy and happy—she can crack me in the skull with that plastic lampshade all she likes.

It just goes to show you, God provides so many simple thing s in life to bring us joy. But they can also bring so much more. I have always heard it said that when the Lord wants you to grow spiritually, he plants a seed somewhere in your heart or life that he hopes will become a blossoming flower of knowledge, patience, strength, or happiness.

In my case, God knew a seed just wouldn’t be enough. So he planted a fur bed, including one special variety of a whole blooming, blossoming, exploding flower.

At Dogwood, and in my heart, God planted a Daisy.

THE POWER OF LUBBINS

I am amazed by the power of words.

They have the ability to both build you up and tear you down, depending on the type of power infused into them by the one who writes or speaks them. It’s unfortunate that the power usually injected into words is hate or anger.

But when used right, words can provide strength, give hope, and change the way minds think. They can also shine a ray of light into a completely horrible day around.

I had that experience recently.

I can usually multi-task my job duties without a meltdown or major drama. But that particular morning, it seemed the harder I worked, the more work I got. There was a devil on my shoulder, having a ball as he whispered rotten nothings into my ear.

By lunchtime, I had dealt with several challenging people, and was ready to come out swinging at the next person who had some smart remark to make.

But then, I noticed that among the twenty or so other emails in my in-box, I had one from the Better Half. It was different in nature, as the word in the subject line didn’t start out with some kind of complaint driven adjective or verb requiring immediate action, topped with a red flag.

It was titled with one simple word that means everything in the world to a Dogwood resident: Lubbins.

For those of you who don’t already know, “lubbins” is a special “Dogwood speak” word with a double meaning for “kisses” and “love”.

I opened the email. It said simply, “Me and babies Lub You”.

“Lubbins” overtook heart and saved the day, because of the power that we have built INTO that word, and what it means to the eight heartbeats that make Dogwood a family and a home.

As I looked up to see the pictures that wall paper my cubicle, into the faces of my Better Half and of all my fur babies, I reminded myself that, when the day was done, none of what I was so mad about would matter anymore. They would all be waiting for me, and that is what gets me thru the day.
My heart flipped like a hamburger and I went from grilled with anger to filled with peace.

I typed back to Better Half, “I lub you too.”

By the time my lunch hour was over, I had swatted the devil off my shoulder, banked my anger, and put on my big boy pants to get the rest of the day completed.

I admit, I had to re-read that email several times that day to keep my peace of mind. But when the day was done, I went home to be scratched, tromped on, barked at, and licked like a lolly pop.

I’m one of the luckiest people in the world.

Words.
They have a power to rip you up, or glue you back together. It’s all in how we use them.

CLARKSVILLE (AND THE NATIONS) ANIMAL OVERPOPULATION IS NOT ANIMAL CONTROLS FAULT

WARNING: NOT A NICE COLUMN!  Call it a rant--a rave--whatever--but my heart is in my mouth over the number of animals being surrendered, abandoned, and put to sleep--and my feelings are rushing out faster than I can type.


We have so many animals in Clarksville, that end their days sitting in a kennel at our Animal Control.

For a long time, I was angry at the A/C officers.  It's easy to do when all you see is the bad, and you are not walking a mile in their shoes.

But a couple of years ago, I had an experience that made me take another look at my feeling about Clarksville's pound.
The day I went down to pick up my first foster dog, Sadie, there was a kid (OK-young man) behind the counter who I struck up a conversation with while Sadie was being processed.

We talked about the job, and the stamina it takes to do it. We talked about the efforts being made to save animals, and the sad truth that we can't save them all.
He spoke of the tough part--getting attached to one of those animals who he knew would never see another sunrise, and I could see the tears in his eyes as he spoke.


It touched my heart when I realized that this young man loved animals just as much I do.
That young man had fallen in love many, many times with countless fuzzy faces that he had probably helped destroy.  It made me see that he was a young man, with a crappy job that someone had to do---it just turned out to be him.
Animal Control is just a county agency put in place to handle a problem--just like the police--the fire department--and all the rest. 
I realized that it's not the A/C's fault that people mistreat their animals, starve and chain them like lawn ornaments, or allow litters of puppies and kittens to be born over and over, increasing the already explosive population in our county.+

It's not their fault that people don't tag their animals, or have them micro chipped so that in the event the animal should become lost, the owners can be located .

It's also not Animal Controls fault that, even when owners of “lost” or stray dogs and cats are located, the owners never come to claim the animals --no matter how many phone calls are made.
The guys and gals down at Animal Control do the job the county puts them there to do.

Do I like it--NO.
Sorry I'm a tree hugger and softy--I want every animal to live it's life to the fullest and be loved.

 It's people who create the animal problems--not the other way around.

Animal Control officers do a job that I couldn't do it--and I sure as heck am not going to sit in judgment of them for it.
I know in my heart that there is not a single person down there at this time that would not cheer if they were to find out they would never have to stop another heart from beating.

And I am willing to help them reach that goal, and encourage THE CITIZENS AND THE POLITICIANS who sign the checks BECOME INVOLVED TOO>
WE CAN SAVE THOSE LIVES! The power is in our hands today-and has been all along.

First we stop the countless litters from being born by having pets spayed and neutered so that the number of UNWANTED and DISCARDED animals will drop.

Second, we educate people about becoming foster families for animals, and work with our local shelters and the Animal Control to network these foster animals into permanent adoptions or into transports so that we can find homes for the healthy, adoptable animals that we are currently killing because we can't find homes fast enough.

We also could work to help to place those animals who are otherwise healthy, but suffer from allergies or loss of a limb, or have bladder problems.

If we could nurture 50 permanent foster homes in Clarksville, and place one dog or cat in each--WHAT A DIFFERENCE we could make!!

Animals die every day simply because that special person who would have loved them forever---never even knew they existed.
That's not fair--and the excuse of "that's life" just doesn't cut it with me.

WE HAVE THE POWER!! It's not political power or money power, which is probably why no one seems to be that interested in reaching out and grabbing a hand full!.

WE HAVE THE POWER TO SAVE LIFE--to keep hearts beating and lungs breathing! We have the POWER to make one of GOD”s CREATURES HAPPY!!!!

How can anyone not be interested in that?

So what was this fifty thousand word rant about??

What was my point??
My point was--GET OUT THERE AND TAKE HOLD OF SOME POWER!!!!
Save a life--make a four legged creature happy and give it a chance to fulfill it's destiny.
It has one--believe it or not--and it's to make someone happy.

WHY do you think God created them first?????
WRITE YOUR COUNTY COMMISSIONER AND YOUR MAYOR and tell them to get off their duffs and start supporting the efforts of AC and the local rescues to end this needless killing spree of animals whose only sin was BEING BORN!  Support the Director and those officers that want so much to see each and every animal that comes into their care LEAVE THAT FACILITY ALIVE AND WELL!
GET UP! GET OUT! GET INVOLVED!

I don't hold anger for the Animal Control people anymore. I know that the new director, Karen Josephson, is doing everything in her power to save those lives that pass thru the Montgomery County Animal Control.

But ONE PERSON can’t do it all.
 IT TAKES A COMMUNITY TO BEAT UP A VILLAGE OF IGNORANCE, DIS CONCERN, AND ALL OUT REFUSAL TO SEE THE ISSUE AT HAND!!!

As long as we stand stagnant, allowing the animal population to grow uncontrolled, and continue to ENCOURAGE the kill rate to climb--
it's not

The animals fault,

Not Animal Controls fault,

Not Karen Josephson’s fault

It’s ALL OF OUR FAULTS.

MORNING MADNESS: MAYHEM, MISCHIEF, AND HOT METAL

Pictured: The Charlie dog--otherwise known as the Canine Road Block

My day begins with mayhem, madness, and a steaming piece of hot metal.


No—I haven’t built a torture chamber or gotten into anything kinky. Actually the chore I am referring to, ironing clothes, is in no way that glamorous or sensational.

Let’s face it: ironing is a boring job. But like every other part of my life, the Dogwood crew always finds a way to liven things up.

To be fair, Lucy, my oldest, has no part of this. As she is mature, hard headed and set in her ways (sound familiar?), retreating to the bedroom to watch the morning news. While Lucy is catching the 5:15 weather report to see if she will need a raincoat or not, my other five feline felons and canine convicts are busy creating a whirlwind of activity.

Bart will climb up onto the highest peak of a stack of boxes. Both he, and the stack, will be teetering back and forth trying to find balance. I have no idea what draws him to high places, but one thing is for certain: before it’s over, Bart will get yet another flying lesson.

His kitty accomplice, and amateur botanist, Sebastian, is busy nearby rolling in the black soil of a big pot Peace Lilies. Before I leave for work, we’ll be having another baptism in the bathroom. I guess if I had nine lives; I’d be making sure all of them got to Heaven too.

Hines loves to hide himself behind the rack of pants. He thinks he’s being clever, but I think I would remember buying a pair of corduroys with little rat terror (I mean terrier) ears. But we still go thru the ritual of “Where’s Hines???” He never tires of this game, though I hate having to brush his fur off all my britches before I can iron them.

Daisy is always doing what Daisy does best: hanging onto my hip by her front paws, begging for attention until I pick her up.

Have you ever ironed a pair of slacks while holding sixteen pounds of pup and having your ear filled with dog spit? Trust me, you’d remember it. I wish Johnson & Johnson could invent a Q-Tip that is absorbent enough to soak all that fluid out of my ear.

Charlie, my special child, is more subdued. He always lies down on the rug, stretching out across the door way. Add a flashing light to his head and he’d be the perfect canine road block.

Just before I finish the job and begin to close down my little laundry stand, Bart and Sebastian discover that the chord of the iron is RETRACTABLE and the real fun begins.

Am I crazy to let this go on every morning? Naaaahhhh!

I spend all day away from them. But mornings, mayhem and all, are spent together. Besides, as long as they are with me, I’m not constantly asking myself, “What was that crash in the other room?”

So if you should see me out in public and notice that I’m wrinkled, scorched, or a little crispy around the collar, remember to be kind. My clothes may be sad, but my mornings are VERY joyful.

PETS INSPIRE WRITING AND TEACH NUMEROUS LIFE LESSONS

Pictured: Little Lucy in her first year at Dogwood. Her adventures filled several journals and led to bigger and more elaborate plot devices!

I used to buy two newspapers every Wednesday: one for me, and one for Momma.

I did this because I always got such a thrill out of seeing something I wrote in print.

Don’t get the wrong idea.

It’s not that I love myself that much, or try to pat myself on the back for anything. It was such a thrill because, in school, I was always told that I couldn’t write worth a flip.

Writing has always helped me to escape, to express the thoughts that crowd my dysfunctional brain. But in college, I was advised to reconsider my passion. I tried hard, but wasn’t getting anywhere. So I got a job and dropped out.

Eleven years passed. I re-entered college and decided to try again. This time my writing was diagnosed with a different malady: it had no style. I was nudged towards news writing, which bored me to tears. I got the degree, put my pen down, and moved onto other things.

One of those things was a 10 week old Labrador retriever pup named Lucy.

As Lucy grew, I kept a little journal of her mis-adventures at Dogwood. Every cute, silly thing that she did became words on a page.

Soon our fur family grew, and the adventures I penned became epic tall tales of disaster and mayhem. The original “big three”: Lucy, Charlie and Pearl, filled my life and the journal pages, with fun, love, and craziness. I began to run out of journal.

Then I found the Pet People blog on the Leaf Chronicle website. I shared my kids quirks, and their horrible habits, and found kindred spirits who were writing their own fur-boding tales.

After Hines arrived, I started writing the column in the Leaf Chronicle. The mischief of my still growing brood leaked into the regular stories about fostering, adoption, and rescue. Daisy arrived, Pearl left us, and the last two felines, Bart and Sebastian settled in, and the fodder of their absolute bonkers behavior just kept on rolling onto the page.

I became the personal biographer to my own Royal family, and they gave me more material than I could write.

Aside from the humor and mayhem, reflecting their lives in pen and ink has taught me much: patience, perseverance, faith, and the simple fact that miracles are possible.

I am a better person because the Almighty brought Lucy, Charlie, our beloved Pearl, Hines, Daisy, Bart and Sebastian into my life.

Because their bad behavior was just too good to keep to myself, I did end up being a writer of sorts.

I wondered out loud once, why had my college writing flopped so badly.

The Better Half had the final say. “It’s clean, it’s funny, it’s sad, and it’s honest, and there is nothing wrong with that.”

I may never write the great American novel, or be the next John Boy Walton, but that’s OK. I have something much more valuable: a furry cast of characters who continue to fill me with wonder, who are always up to no good,… and will never be able to hold a pen for signing litigation to sue for me for copyright.

Well----maybe Hines could.

FUNDRAISER TO AID JOEYS FUND THIS SATURDAY!

It’s been a week or so since our community rallied around a little dog who had met horrible abuse at the hands of a human. Little seven pound rat terrier, JOEY, had both his front legs broken by a human.

Per the Clarksville Leaf Chronicle, that owner surrendered JOEY to Animal Control because of the expense of helping him.
As the county pound has no funding to help such cases, they are usually considered hopeless and euthanized. They become yet another number in Montgomery County’s hideous statistics of euthanized strays and unwanted animals that fill the records.
But God saw this little animal in need, and he touch the heart of Director Karen Josephson, impressing on her that JOEY could be SAVED!
Karen worked with Animal Hospital in Clarksville, and was assured that surgery could help this small spirit heal, and walk again. So Karen stepped out on faith, and placed little Joey in their care.
A plea went out for donations to help pay for the operation, and hundreds of people stepped out on that same faith to give.
JOEY’s little legs were put back together with surgical hardware, wire, and lots and lots of prayer. And like the little warrior that he is: JOEY pulled through.
This little dog, who had been shown everything BUT love and devotion---has done nothing but lick and love his rescuers and wag his little tail in appreciation.

JOEY still needs your help.

His major medical needs have been met, but there are still costs involved I his care.

THIS SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 5th, at the Clarksville Petsmart on Wilma Rudolph Blvd from 9 am to 4 pm, JOEY’s rescuers will be having a fundraiser in efforts to continue to provide the funding for JOEYS medical care. There will be baked good, crafts, silent auctions, etc in hopes that JOEYS FUND will be able to maintain this little souls medical attention and ensure that he will once again be able to run, play, and live a fruitful life in a forever home.

• If you would like to donate towards JOEYS recovery, or donate anything in the way of baking good, craft, or items for silent auction, PLEASE email JOEY’s FUND at joeymemorialfund@gmail.com

• THANK YOU

HINES GETS THE SHAM!!

Pictured: Hines, the rat terror of Dogwood, all snuggled up with his Batman Comforter


Dogwood doggie blankets are retired due to old age.
Lucy, Charlie, Hines, and Daisy are always chewing, ripping, or dragging them in some form or fashion. Of course, Daisy is the worst. I can put a full blanket in her kennel in the morning and by night fall, she is dragging a wad of thread thru the house.
My favorite source of replenishment is the Good Will. While other people are hauling out TV’s and furniture at their 50% off sale, Better Half and I are rolling out with a new mound of used comforters, and throws.
Once in a while, I find a really nice bargain for the kids. At a recent sale, I found two beautiful pillow shams that were brand new. They were heavy, quilted material, with embroidered designs and strong heavy stitching. I thought I had really made a find.
Hines, the rat terror (I mean terrier), loves to curl up in quilted, comfy blankets and snooze his days away. So he was the one who was rewarded with the beautiful puffy sham. I had barely gotten it washed, dried, and laid in his little house before he was sprawled out on it.
Hines loved his new bed, and I had no problem getting him to go in and lie down for some private time. He was so proud of it.
Last week, when Better Half and I came home from work and let everyone out into the yard for potty time, Hines was not among the gaggle of hounds that burst forth from the back door.
Usually when this happens, someone has lagged behind to forage thru the open kennels and finish someone else’s treat. But when I didn’t see Hines in the other kennels, I was ready to panic.
Then I heard a dull thump, as if a cloth covered hammer were being tapped against a plastic wall. I looked into what I thought was Hines’ empty kennel. Thumping against the plastic, the pillow shame was alive.
In his effort to find the most comfy warm spot,Hines had crawled completely inside of the sham… and now couldn’t get out. My guess was that he had curled up inside the sham and fell asleep. When Better Half and I entered, he woke up and forgot he had sealed himself up like a peanut.
Honestly, it was one of the funniest, and most pitiful, things I had ever seen. I waited for his little head to pop out so that I could help him, but he was so discombobulated that all he was able to do was stumble around in a circle. He didn’t bark, he didn’t make a sound, he just kept trying to get out.
Finally I had mercy on the piece of walking bed linen, reached in, and popped out a very confused, humbled little dog.
Like many romances, the love affair with the beautifully quilted sham was over. That’s OK, because Daisy reduced it to a rag the very next evening.

MONSTERS & BOOGEY MEN WERE ANIMAL LOVERS TOO!

Pictured: top)Boris Karloff and friend,
(middle)Bela Lugosi with his four legged companions.
, and (below) Lon Chaney Jr and Moose consult each other on the script for "The Wolf Man" from Universal Pictures in 1941.

I have always been a rabid fan of the old Universal Monster Movies: Dracula, Frankenstein, the Wolf Man and the rest of the bunch. But without actors to play the parts, these movies would have never obtained their following and become the classic images we still celebrate today. That's why Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, and Lon Chaney Jr are still major stars to horror movie fans world wide.

But even though these three stars made their living scaring the daylights out of several generations of movie goers (and later television audiences), many people don't know that these three men were nothing like their on screen Bogey men persona's, and were very avid animal lovers.
Bela Lugosi is said to have ALWAYS had dogs--and was quite taken with larger breeds, great Danes in particular.
Boris Karloff owned a home in the Hollywood hills, which was inhabited by not only dogs, but farm animals as well. He even had a 400 pound  pet pig named Elsie.
Lon Chaney Jr was a giant of a man, with a giant heart as well. HeI admire him especially, as he was a lover of strays. In the early 40's, there was a huge wolf/German shepherd looking dog who was wondering the lot at Universal Studios. Lon rescued the dog, named him Moose, and they became a well known pair at the studio. Moose even became a slight horror star himself---he is the "wolf" that attacks Mr. Chaney's "Larry Talbot" and gives him the bite that makes him The Wolf Man in the 1941 movie. Moose also played bit parts in the Mummy movies that Mr. Chaney starred in later.
Though many folks shiver at the sight of these three cinema greats, when you get down to it, they were wonderful men with sweet spirits, and that special place in their hearts that allowed canines to find an oasis where the horrors of abandonment, starvation, and homelessness would not touch their lives.
It just goes to show you, that no book can be judged by it's cover.
Happy Halloween Everybody!!!!!!!!!!

SAVE LIVES BY ADOPTING OR FOSTERING FROM ANIMAL CONTROL

Clarksville has an abundance of dogs and cats.

Some are blessed with a home. Some have no idea what that means.
There are those with sufficient food and water, a warm blanket to sleep on, perhaps a doghouse in the backyard, or some other place to call their own.
Others wander aimlessly thru the streets and alleyways, down busy roadsides, digging through trash and debris to find the scraps of human discard as nourishment.
Many are in good health, and have someone to maintain that status and assure a long and fruitful life.
Too many are sick, malnourished, broken and maimed, to the point that every breath is agony.
The blessed have someone to love them, and be their human. They have someone to give them a name and a purpose.
The lost would give anything to know even a tiny bit of that happiness. They have no idea what they are doing here. All they know is that they were born and discarded into a life where every moment is a fight to survive.
Citizens take pity on these lost souls. They show kindness in the form of food or water or a friendly pat on the head. Some of these good Samaritans will go the distance and step up to help find these battered souls a good home.
Our local shelters fight everyday to stem the tide and lower the number of indigent animals. But it’s a war that is overwhelming. Only small battles are won, and complete victory is currently out of grasp.
Most of these homeless and helpless spirits, when caught, wind up at Animal Control.
This is the first time many of them will be sheltered from the elements, have a regular supply of food, drink clean water, and have someone talk to them or offer a gentle touch.
But it is also the last place many of them see.
Through Animal Control’s partnership with groups like the Humane Society of Clarksville-Montgomery Co.,and the Montgomery County Friends of the Shelter, volunteers photograph the adoptable pets and place them on petfinder.com in hopes that people will adopt them. Each week, the page fills with beautiful fuzzy faces with one thing in common: they want to be loved.
Thankfully, many of these precious spirits get adopted, finding that final destination in someone’s heart and home.
But due to circumstances of space, finances, and the tendency of humans to overlook pound animals, not all are promised their happy ending.
People see the photos, fall completely in love with an image, but perhaps opt to not follow through.
So, a small dedicated heart waits to beat for that special human it longs for. But the human never comes, time runs out, and that tiny, fragile heartbeat is silenced forever.
Their last thought: Why didn’t you come?
If you, or someone you know is considering the addition of a pet, look at the adoptable animals available at Montgomery County Animal Control & Adoption Service.
If you are not ready to commit your heart or home full time to an animal—consider a short term foster. Through fostering, YOU become the lifeboat to an animal who is swimming for it’s life in a sea of despair. These poor creatures can only swim so long before they sink into the abyss , and become yet another statistic.
You can foster from Animal Control thru FRIENDS OF THE SHELTER, or the Humane Society. Reach them at MCFOTS@gmail.com or by calling the HS at 931-648-8042.
If you can help in any way—please do.

DO SOMETHING FOR YOUR LOCAL SHELTERS

Back in the 90’s, an actor named Andrew Shue , used his fame to start an organization for kids called “Do Something”, to encourage them to get out of their living rooms and become active to make the world a better place.


Pet people can use this same idea to promote volunteerism and support for our local shelters: DO SOMETHING—something for the animals.

It’s easy as pie! There are tons of EASY things you can do for our local non-kill shelters that will help a lot!

Can you collect aluminum cans? If you can, then you get to do a double whammy! You can help recycle to help the environment, and make the can money your monthly donation to your favorite animal cause.

Can you knit, crochet or sew? You can make an afghan or a quilt and donate it as a silent auction item that a shelter can put up for bid at a fundraiser. You can sew blankets for the kennels at Animal Control, or for the cats and dogs at Cats Are Us. Hand made things usually last longer than store bought, and the money your item(if used for auction or yard sale) brings can help save the life of an animal.

Know anything about photography? Many of the shelters would love to have someone to take photos at their events or take animal photos that can be posted on their adoption pages.

Do you love to drive? Do you like to travel? You could volunteer your services as a chauffeur to take sick animals to vet appointments, or deliver animals to adoption day. If you are into long scenic drives, you can help an animal to its new home by driving part of a transport route.

Do you know anything about carpentry, landscaping or general repair? Has it been your lifelong dream to be known as Mr. or Mrs. Fix-it? There are plenty of odd repair jobs available at our local shelters. Some repairs are very simple and some a little more challenging, but none the less, they need doing. You could help animals by using your skills to keep roofs from leaking, unclog pipes, or just mowing grass.

Do you have a civic group, fraternity, sorority, or any other kind of club that is searching for a philanthropic cause to donate your time too? Hold a yard sale, a bake sale, or some other event and donate your proceeds to your favorite animal cause. Collect pet food, cat litter, cleaning supplies, and other much needed items and donate them to one of the shelters.

Every no kill shelter in our area survives from public donation and volunteer labor. There’s no way for you to go wrong if you just DO SOMETHING.

All it takes is to put on your thinking cap, organize your friends, and get started.

Together, as citizens that truly care for the animals and their welfare, we can accomplish anything.

BUDDY RABBIT ADOPTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pictured Top: HANK (AKA Buddy Rabbit) as he is today--all grown up

As most of you know, Dogwood was a foster home for the Humane Society, Cats Are Us, and the Montgomery County Friends of the Shelter. My last foster, Buddy Rabbit, was rescued from Animal Control thru "Friends" and stayed with us thru the month of June 2011.
He was supposed to go by transport, but a horrible case of kennel cough knocked that idea in the head. By the time he healed up and was ready for a forever home, Buddy Rabbit was taken to an adoption event where a little boy fell in love with him and he was adopted the very same day.
BUTTTTTTT, the family moved about a month later, and they decided not to take Buddy Rabbit with them. So he came back to "Friends". Though I was not happy when I got the news, I was overjoyed that at least the family didn't dump him at the pound and surrendered him back to the rescue as the adoption agreement states.
So Buddy Rabbit (who was back to his original "Friends" name of record: HANK) spent a little time with the rescue before he was adopted again.
BUUUUTTTTTTT, the poor mother of the family he entered was soon diagnosed with MS, forcing the family to do a re-think. It was very sad, as they truly loved Buddy Rabbit. But a serious illness in a family does not leave much time for an active ten month old pup. So, Buddy Rabbit packed his bags and now reside back with Montgomery County Friends of the Shelter at their Kraft Street facility.
I commend this rescue for one: keeping an eye on it's adopted animals and two: being gracious enough to keep me (the former foster Daddy and complete worry wart) in the loop on Buddy Rabbit AKA HANK's progress.
Buddy Rabbit is one of the sweetest animals in the world, and he deserves a break!!!!!!!!
We saved him from death at Animal Control, and he's had a foster home, and TWO failed adoptions. THIS IS NO FAULT OF BUDDY RABBITS. This is just CRAPPY LUCK!!
BUT--the luck finally changed yesterday when a adopter drove all the way down from Kentucky to meet the Buddy Rabbit. She didn't go home empty handed.
BUDDY RABBIT WAS ADOPTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (pee pee -happy dance)
He has waited very patiently for his place in the world to open up and I pray that this is finally it.
Though we LOVED him at Dogwood, four is our limit. I have prayed and prayed over this, asking God to either find my little Buddy Rabbit a good home, or help me find a way to adopt him myself without turnig our already fragile world upside down. It's been a hard wait, but I knew God would ot let either of us down. If I had gotten cocky and ran over to Clarksville and got him , I probably would have caused problems that would have not only made Buddy Rabbit unhappy--but the rest of my four legged felons as well. Besides that, Better Half would put me out permanently.
As he was once my foster child, and he owns a piece of our heart, I am so glad that he appears to have found a LOVING, CARING, SAFE home.
I ask that you please say a prayer for Buddy Rabbit (HANK), that this home will be what we wanted theother two he previous visited to be: a FOREVER home. I believe with all my heart that this little guy has a HUGE mission in his life, and that he is just getting started.
My undying thanks and gratitude to Friends of the Shelter for their dedication, their loyalty, and for their kindness in keeping me informed about our former fur child.
God Speed Buddy Rabbit--I love you!!!!!!
B

FOSTER HOMES SAVE LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PICTURED: Sadie (Left)--the first Dogwood foster child and Daisy (middle) the crazy girl who I couldn't let go of. Bottom: The Buddy Rabbit (HANK), my last Clarksville foster. Linus (really bottom) my current foster in Waverly TN.

I had never fostered an animal before.

The thought of “renting” an animal didn’t appeal to me. How could you take one home and not fall in love with it?
Of course, I had thoughts of the expense, the extra set of paws, and the potential damage to the house. I decided it wasn’t for me.
Then came Sadie.
Sadie, 5 year old Border collie, was at Animal Control facing the end of her road. God really rode my heart over the waste of a fully trained, house broken, gentle spirited dog being put to sleep.
Final Score: GOD: One
Brett: Zero
Before I knew it, Sadie was sitting on my bed while the Dogwood pack looked at me as if to say, “What have you done?”
I wasn’t crazy about the idea of fostering, but I couldn’t stand by and let that dog die. I just kept telling myself that she wasn’t mine to keep.
Sadie stayed for 30 days before she found the perfect home. There was no reason to weep. She was alive, and happy. I had done my part.
I finally realized what fostering is about: Preserving life.
It’s about giving an animal that extra time to find their place in the world and that person who needs them.
As a foster family, you become their bridge from hopelessness to happiness.
You’re helping them cross over from a place of no future, to one where they will flourish and never look back.
That’s what it’s about –saving and extending life---giving each one the chance to fill someone’s heart with love. It’s what they were meant for.
I know people tell me, “I don’t want another animal” or “I can’t afford it.”
Most foster programs pay all vet expenses while you provide the home, food, and amenities. Shelters will even help with some cost just to save the animal.
I hear that familiar “I could never let them go.”
I understand that feeling.
You can save them, and suffer a little heart break, or stay away and allow them to be euthanized?
Brass Tacks: Your heartache will ease, but their elimination is forever.
Every shelter in town has a foster program that you can join up with. Once you are a foster family, you won’t have to wait long before a new paw will be knocking on your front door.
Will it be perfect? Uh…no.
Daisy,  the second foster who we later adopted , chewed up shoes, peed on the carpet, howled in the middle of the night, etc.
Did I become frustrated? Sure.
Was she a pain in the butt sometimes? OH YEAH!
Did I stop loving her? Anyone who has ever looked into that sweet face knows the answer to that.
Daisy became a permanent Dogwood mutt because I just couldn't stand the thought of her calling someone else  Daddy.
The third foster, Buddy Rabbit, stayed with us for 30 days before being adopted. Though I loved him dearly, I could not keep him as I had Daisy. Buddy Rabbit went thru two homes so far--not by any fault of his own--but because the families that adopted him had life changing events come about that made them surrender him back to the Montgomery County Friends of the Shelter. Buddy Rabbit (called HANK now)  finally went to a TRUE FOREVER home. He is loved, spoiled, and having the time of his life
NOW--we have little LINUS as a foster. Only time will tell, but I know that SOMEONE will fall in love with him and WANT HIM FOR THEIR VERY OWN!!!
Look folks, the bottom line the FOSTERING is this: if I can do it—Lord knows ANYBODY can foster a dog or cat.
I urge you to get involved with the fostering programs sponsored by the local shelters. Contact them for info on their programs today because they need you now.
Anyone who would like to meet, foster, or ADOPT --contact your local shelters!!!
In WAVERLY TN--contact the shelter at 931-296-7319
In Clarksville--dial up the Humane Society at 931-648-8042
They can also put you in touch with  Montgomery County Friends of the Shelter  and other groups who need foster homes!!
The clock is ticking---and in pounds all around the country--each of those seconds that passes is marked by the last breath of an animal being put to sleep. YOU CAN STOP IT! But you have to ACT.
Please consider fostering animals from your local animal controls.

GOD DOES IT AGAIN!!! JOEY'S FUND ESTABLISHED THRU COMMUNITY ABILITY TO "STEP OUT ON FAITH"

All I can say --is AIN'T GOD GOOD????????
I'm going to link the wonderful article that appeared in the Leaf Chronicle on Saturday Oct 22 concerning JOEY, his condition, and the FACT THAT THE COMMUNITY has "stepped out on faith" once again to help pay for the surgery on a little dogs legs.
I AM SO PROUD of the LEAF CHRONICLE for covering this story NOT ONLY ONCE--BUT EVEN TWICE!!!!! 
THERE WAS EVEN LEFT OVERS from the donated funds!!!!!!!
Per the article:
"So far, Animal Control and Animal Hospital have raised more than $2,300 toward Joey's surgery. It only cost $1,800 to fix his broken legs, but Josephson said she has set up a "Joey Fund" to provide for his ongoing care and the care of other dogs who are afflicted with abuse.


Those interested in donating can mail a check or cash to Montgomery County Animal Control at 616 North Spring Street and indicate the money should go toward the Joey Fund.

Those willing to pay with credit or debit cards can call Animal Hospital and pay on Joey's bill directly."


  JOEY'S FUND will be used to help other animals in need who come thru the ANIMAL CONTROL. As a county funded agency, the pound cannot expend monies to animals who are hurt, sick, or suffer abuse--even if they can be saved. THIS FUND will help give those poor creatures a CHANCE to LIVE!!!!
Honestly---I stand in AWE of what is fast becoming an ARMY of people who have decided to STAND UP, STEP OUT, AND GET INVOLVED in the over population,stray, abandoned, harmed AND ABUSED animal problem that Montgomery County has been wallowing in over the past several years. FINALLY--people are starting to take a different look at these innocents, and DO SOMETHING!
I'm not going to preach--just say , THANK YOU GOD, and tell you that if you haven't considered donating your TIME, your PRAYERS, or from your WALLET--PLEASE, consider doing one of the three~!
The LEAF CHRONICLE article is linked here. http://www.theleafchronicle.com/article/20111023/NEWS01/110230321/-Joey-terrier-will-available-adoption-after-recovery