He said there were two things lying next to him when he woke up. A puddle of his own dried vomit. And his dog. And some of that dried vomit was on his dog. But still, despite being vomited upon, his dog, a big, beautiful German Shepherd, had still pushed close as possible to keep him warm during the frigid cold night.

And it was at that moment in time when he looked at his dog covered in puke that he knew he needed to make changes. And he said that’s what scared him the most.

He said he needed to leave for a few weeks or a few months. He wasn’t sure. But he said he needed to get some things right. He needed to get himself right. But where he was going, he could not take his dog. Could I help?

But I didn’t really know this man or his dog. He told me they had been together for a long time. They were family. And when he said he loved her I knew he meant it. I could see it in his eyes even without hearing the words. And I could see it in her eyes too. 

These were two of the faces I helped when The Pongo Fund was nothing more than the back of my car, two faces among the many folks that lived outdoors, underneath the bridges and the onramps and the moon and the stars.

Their homes were made of cardboard and plastic tarps and sleeping bags. But still they had dignity. They had hope. They had fears. They had dreams. And they knew when they needed to leave for a while to get things right. To get themselves right. And at that moment in time the only thing that was keeping this man from helping himself was the love he had for his dog. This big, beautiful German Shepherd.

Most people don’t know that my Pongo’s best friend was a German Shepherd named Dolly. Although I began The Pongo Fund shortly after Pongo passed away and named it after him, Dolly is every bit The Pongo Fund just as much as Pongo is. She was a true gentle giant. She was a lovely lady. An 85 pound lap dog that loved to give kisses. And when she kissed you, you knew you had been kissed. And I loved her.

Dolly passed away one year before Pongo did. I lost both of my loves within just a few months of each other. And that broken heart is what led to The Pongo Fund. To this day I still struggle to talk about Pongo and Dolly because the hurt is still fresh. Even though it was years ago, the loss is still too great.

So knowing that this man and his Sheppie needed help, I said yes. I said I would make sure she was safe and well and waiting for him when he returned from his few weeks or few months away. Sometime later the man left. I got his dog into a wonderful foster home and she was loved. Sometime later the man returned. They were reunited. And life went on. A better life. A much better life.

This story began several years ago, one of the many stories that I struggle to tell because they hurt. And I tell it now because I ran into this man recently and he reintroduced himself to me. No longer living on the street, he was happy and healthy and had long ago stopped the bad habits that had led him to the street.

And he told me that his sweet girl, the girl that he loved so much that he went away to make himself better so he could be better for her, had died. She died happy and loved. He told me he missed her. And that she left a hole in his heart. I knew what he meant. Because I still have those holes too.

My name is Larry Chusid and I founded The Pongo Fund. And that wonderful photo is my two forever friends, Dolly and Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org