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This Brave Woman

She said he hit her in a way that hurt her dignity more than it hurt her physically. She remained silent and kept it a secret. But as soon as her kids finished college she knew that it was time for her and her secrets to leave. They divorced quickly and quietly. She left fast and she left without much money because there wasn’t much there to begin with. Leaving intact was more valuable than anything the dollars could ever buy. She said her and her dog were free.

She learned about The Pongo Fund shortly after she got to Portland, when a local food pantry gave her a bag of dog food with Pongo’s name on it. But she didn’t know what that meant.

Shortly thereafter she met with her caseworker for the first time. She explained that she could still feed herself thanks to a tiny bit of money, but she needed help feeding her dog. She was sure her caseworker would laugh at her when she told the story, but she didn’t. Instead, she said the caseworker told her Pongo could help. She said she didn’t know what that meant, but the caseworker wrote a telephone number on a referral slip and said “Just call Pongo.” Then she remembered the earlier bag of food that said Pongo. And she called.

And that brought her to our doorway for the first time. With her dog in the car for moral support she said she took her place in line that morning surrounded by 100 other faces. She left us that day with food, treats and the memory of many different Pongo volunteers who had greeted her with big smiles and made her feel good.

This brave woman told me these things when our paths randomly crossed in the park. She stopped to talk only because she saw my Pongo shirt. She began by saying “Pongo. I know Pongo. Do you know Pongo?” And I said yes, I know Pongo too. She didn’t know who I was specifically; she just began to talk with me because my shirt said Pongo. And I guess that made me a friend.

We talked for several minutes. She spoke with both her words and her eyes. But she had no idea why this was so meaningful to me. She had no idea that I was part of The Pongo Fund.

She said she returned to Pongo a few more times because she struggled to find work and could not afford dog food. Even though she was prepared to go hungry herself so her dog did not. And that every time she left, she said she felt even better than when she had gotten there. And she’s telling me these things not realizing that I know exactly what she means.

When she began working she paid us back by buying some bags of dog food at a local store pet food drive last December. She said that it was important for both her and her dog to pay it forward as someone else had done for them.

As the conversation wound down I asked about her dog. She said that they had walked earlier, and that her dog friend was now at home napping. And it was her turn to go out and walk. As she turned to leave she apologized, saying she was not sure why she told me everything she did. And then she asked if we’d met somewhere before, she had a funny feeling that we had.

I told her that I too relied on The Pongo Fund to help me and we might have seen each other there sometime. Because the truth is, The Pongo Fund does help me. It helps all of us, no matter why we’re there. Be it to get food or be it to volunteer to help those getting food. Because at times like that, we are all Pongo.

My name is Larry Chusid, and I founded The Pongo Fund. Helping others is a great feeling. And this is why we Pongo.