That’s Jack in the back, with the Santa hat. Jack, the Young Philanthropist. His Mom and his Grandparents, they are there too. Sorry, I don’t know their names, but you can see how proud they are. Jack got money for Christmas, but Jack also knows that others are less fortunate. So Jack wanted to share the love, giving up his own gifts to help those in need.

Jack’s Grandparents were touched by their generous grandson, and doubled the money. And then they went shopping. Arriving at The Pongo Fund on the day before Christmas laden with more pet food than you can see. But that’s not all. Because Jack knows it is hungry people who have hungry pets. So he also included socks and gloves and toothbrushes and all sorts of other supplies. Because helping the pets, and the people at the same time, made his holiday even more meaningful.

A look back. It was a few days this side of last Christmas. Portland weather was brutal, everyone was cold and getting colder. Tents popped up pretty much everywhere. Doorways, curbs, sidewalks. He had his gear set up and now he was helping someone else set up their tent. That person was older, steadied by a walker, holding tight while simultaneously trying to weave a well-used plastic tarp onto the opening to his tent, or what might have once been a tent and was now only part of a tent. The wind flurried the tarp like a kite, while he also held tight to his walker, thus the need for more hands. The younger man jumped in to help, his dog danced alongside.

The moment I got there the older man turned to me out of the blue and said “some duct tape would be nice.” I had some in my car and grabbed it; it was silver grey, the basic color. The older man had a crisp sense of humor, and thanked me for not carrying bright yellow duct tape. He said when you’re on the street you don’t want weird colored duct tape. Then he laughed.
The dog that danced was a mocha colored wiggle butt pit bull. He tried to help, biting at the fluttering tarp. The man said the dog was 12 but still thought he was a puppy. How long had they been together? The whole time, he said.

He bought him from a box to give him a chance and it was the best thing he’d ever done. This dog just beamed one of those side-to-side full face smiles that only Pibbles can smile; he knew he was loved. And when I went to pet him he swallowed my hand in one giant slurp like only Pibbles can do, he just decided my hand was perfect for gumming like his most favorite toy. But it was the way he did it; it could not have been more gentle.

I wanted to do something for them, something more than the half-used roll of duct tape. I’d given out all my gear to others, all I had left was money in my pocket. I was ok with that, there’s so many things that people on the streets need money for, the same things that you and I do. But when you have no money, it means even more. The older man happily accepted; he thanked me graciously and tucked it into his wallet which I could see held no other money.

When I started to hand money to the younger man, he declined. He said he didn’t want to owe me anything and asked if I would instead donate the money to someone else who needed it more. Then he suddenly said, “WAIT, I’ve got an idea.” He started to rummage through his gear, talking while he rummaged, he said there was this place that helps him, he could not remember the name but had something with their information. He pulled back out of his tent and held up a bag to show me and asked if I’d donate the money to them. He went on and on about this group, how much they’d helped him.

He read me the name on the bag: The Pongo Fund.

It was another one of those moments when I knew that Pongo, Scooby, each one of you and so many more were right there with me, beaming. And maybe that’s why his sweet dog friend had been smiling so big the whole time, why he kissed me with so many gentle kisses; because he knew my Pongo secret. When I got there I thought they needed everything. Then I realized they already had it all.

I stopped by a couple of days later with a quick drive by to say hello and gave him a couple of nondescript brown shopping bags. One for the older man with the walker and one for him. The one for him had more Pongo dog food, some treats, a gift card to a nearby grocer, socks, a hat and some dog gear. And separately I handed him a printed receipt from The Pongo Fund. He asked me what that was for; I reminded him that he’d asked me to donate some money to The Pongo Fund and so I did. My donation was made in his name. He smiled a smile he didn’t expect to smile, and he said thank you.

He said he didn’t have anything for me, except a hand shake. I told him that was perfect.

Being a helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

To read more stories like this, please sign up for our very occasional newsletter here: http://bit.ly/2CVq34E.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org
#thepongofund #love #oregon #petfoodbank #newsletter

***The Pongo Fund is Oregon’s Pet Food Bank. Because hungry people have hungry pets. Our award winning and volunteer driven group helps more animals than any other group in Oregon by providing high quality food and vital veterinary care for the family pets of anyone in honest need, keeping them safe, healthy and out of the shelters. 100,000 animals helped; 10,000,000 healthy meals provided. We would be honored if you SHARE this post so that others will also know of our good work***

Red syringes. Orange are the most common, but she needs red. Most of you won’t understand. But you will in a minute. And you’ll never forget. She was a longtime drug addict, those are her words, not ours. IV drug use was her survival tool. She lost pretty much everything because of it. And then she stopped. She did it herself, it was that or die. She lives in a place with a lot of other folks who face some challenges. But they persevere, they survive. They live their lives, but always aware of the triggers that wait to hit them when they’re not looking. Like orange syringes.

Her cat, a sweet older girl named Samantha, she’s in bad shape. Diabetes has taken a toll, and for those without funds, finding the money for the bloodwork and the insulin is about as likely as winning a lottery. And that’s where The Pongo Fund comes in. Because sometimes having us on your team is like winning the lottery. Those were her words too.

The connection between these two runs deep, losing one means losing both. Samantha could barely walk, her system was shutting down. Dr. Melissa and Dr. Robin ran the bloodwork on the spot; the results told us what we needed to know. It wasn’t good. She needed insulin, and she would keep needing insulin. As many of you might know, small non-profit groups don’t provide insulin. It’s expensive. And the need continues every time a bottle runs empty. And then the bloodwork rechecks. And then more insulin. But Samantha would die without it. And maybe her Mom too.

We’ve got this little emergency bank account, for veterinary care and supplies, some of you donate to this fund for times like this. There’s not a lot there, but it’s for matters of life and death. This was that.

Yes, we got the insulin. But back to those syringes. We needed red ones, not orange. Here comes the punch to your gut. Because the orange ones were the syringe of choice for IV drug addicts, and she used them for years. Just looking at them brought back the anxiety, the urge. They called her name. She was brave enough to tell us. Because giving Samantha’s Mom orange syringes would be taking her back in time to a dark place. And all it takes is one moment, one mistake.

She said anything but orange, she pleaded with us. We found red. And while that may not seem like a world of difference to you, it was for her. And for Samantha.

Because two days after the insulin started, Samantha was doing better. How did we know? Because her Mom called to tell us. She was so thankful she wanted to share the news. It will take time, but it was a start. She was starting to walk a little bit again, her appetite was returning. Both were great news. All because we had red syringes.

Today is Wednesday, January 10th. I bet you never thought you’d spend a moment thinking about red syringes. But that’s how life goes. You think about what size coffee to get. You think about traffic. You think about dinner. You think about George Clooney because you know it’s true, you always think about George Clooney.

For us, we think about red syringes. Not orange. Red.

Being there for those when they need us most.

And this is why we Pongo.

To read more stories like this, please sign up for our very occasional newsletter here: http://bit.ly/2CVq34E.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org
#thepongofund #love #oregon #petfoodbank #newsletter

She had a home, she had a partner. He drank. He hit. He hurt her. She left, taking whatever she could fit into her car. Which meant she didn’t take much, because the entire back seat was dedicated to her pug. His bed, his blankets, his toy basket. His food was kept in the front seat because while she loved him, she knew he could not be trusted to guard his own food. I’m sure he felt differently, but you know those pugs. They look at you with those eyes and poof, you’re under their spell.

Things were bad, but she said they could be worse. And that’s one of the most common things we hear from those we help. Things could always be worse. I’m talking about the man with one shoe who was thankful he had one shoe because he still had one shoe. The homeless woman whose bra straps were held together with duct tape but she still had a bra. The elderly man whose eyeglasses were now two monocles’s because they had been broken too many times to tape back together. You get the idea.

A reminder that we don’t need to wear rose-colored glasses to be thankful. We just need to be thankful. And it is absolutely one of the strongest messages we hear from those we help. I’m not saying I’m always good at it, because it’s easy to forget how blessed we are. But the reminders are always there when we’re ready to see them.

She found me at the grocery store by the bottle return. I was there to help a homeless man who chauffeurs his older dog around town in a bike trailer; the dog has no idea that every dog does not get such care. That’s where she saw me, the Pongo logo on my shirt was the giveaway. We’d helped her many times, including right after she’d left the man who beat her. She relied on The Pongo Fund for dog food, frequently getting it from the food pantries that we give food to. Since we began, that’s always been our plan, to reach more people by meeting them where they are. Since many people turn to food pantries for their own food, we always make sure they have pet food too.

I’d not seen her for years, but I remembered her. And now she was pushing a cart with groceries. Not a lot of them, but still, she was shopping at a grocery store. What did that mean?

She waited until I was done helping the dog in the trailer, and she walked back to say hello. I remembered meeting her, we got her into a motel for a couple nights so she could gather her thoughts because things were a mess. I remembered she was in a panic, worried about her dog more than anything. Anyway, that was years earlier. And now she’s shopping for groceries.

She decided that every day she would do her best to do one thing better than the day before. They were still in their car, but she kept it clean. And she took whatever work she could and she saved and began to rebuild. And then one day, with some help, they got their place. And she thanked me for how The Pongo Fund was always there for them when they needed us, with dog food and people food and more for both of them.

Because she said there were days that felt too heavy, and she wasn’t sure she could continue to carry that weight. But she did, because he needed her and she needed him. And that kept her going.

And in that moment there could not have been a louder message, a more clear reminder as to why we do what we do. Because The Pongo Fund gives a chance to animals that might not otherwise have a chance and gives hope to families who have little else to be hopeful for. Because sometimes a simple bowl of kibble is the force that both keeps a family together and saves the lives of the animals they love.

She walked back to her car and a minute later she was back again, she handed me a fistful of cash. I don’t know how much was there because the amount didn’t matter. What mattered is what it meant. And it meant they would be paying it forward for the next time. Like ships passing in the night, I don’t know if we’ll see them again. But we were there for them when they needed us most, and that’s what matters.

And this is why we Pongo.

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Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org
(For safety and privacy, photo is stock image and not dog mentioned above)

Let’s begin the New Year with an extra moment of gratitude. This moment, right now. Because we all deserve to celebrate good things together. Not just today. But everyday. Particularly with so much bad in the world. So much strife and conflict and pain and suffering. We all face it. We all feel it.

The Pongo Fund is dearly blessed to have many kind and generous friends. Each one cares deeply about the animals and the work that we do. But they have one other thing in common. They do not seek accolades. They do not want to be feted on Facebook or in newsletters. It’s just not their way. They give from the heart, with heart. A kind of generosity that is felt both inside and out. For them. For us. They give for good. Without expectation or demand.

My name is Larry Chusid. I am the founder and executive director of The Pongo Fund, Oregon’s Pet Food Bank. Pongo was my dog. I work for the day when no dog or cat goes hungry because their families cannot afford to keep them fed. Thereby preventing the hunger, suffering, abandonment, surrender and loss of the animals they love.

We have donated more than ten million meals throughout Oregon, Washington and beyond, helping more than 100,000 beloved animals stay safe at home with their families and out of the shelters. We provide emergency veterinary care and spay-neuter too. I am honored to do this work.

But in order to love me as a friend or even like me as a person you must understand that animals are the best part of my life. And that my heart is broken time and time again for animals that are not treated with compassion and respect. For those who do not know kind words and gentle hands. For those who are abused, who suffer, who live in fear. For those who recoil at the hand reaching out to pet them for fear it will hurt them.

At my core I believe that every animal deserves good food, clean water, proper shelter, sincere affection, humane care and a safe and stable environment. Not just occasionally, but always. And I believe that Gandhi was right when he said “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.”

Today is January 4th, 2018. It’s a New Year. A new chapter filled with all of the things that we can do, that we should do, that we must do, to make life better for the animals. And I invite you to please join me in doing these things.

For all of the animals everywhere, may each one enjoy an abundance of life. To live safely and well. Without fear. Without harm. Without suffering. I wish for them to know the same love and respect from us that we know from them. And every wish that I wish for the animals, I wish for you too.

On an even more personal note, and I mean this from my heart, I am so deeply grateful to you, to all of you, for getting up, for standing up, for fighting against abuse and neglect and cruelty. For fighting the fight that sometimes seems like a lonely one. But I know it is a fight we will win.

My name is Larry Chusid and I am proud that the animals are my friends. They make my life better. And may they always enjoy Peace, Love and Kibble.

Wishing you a Happy New Year from all of us at The Pongo Fund.

One more thing. We have a new newsletter. It’s neither fancy nor overly edited nor filled with standard prose. Nor will it arrive too often. But we would very much like to keep you in the know as to the good work you help us do, to share highlights, emergencies and celebrations, to keep you updated with the things that we hope will matter to you. And I’d be honored if you click here to subscribe: http://bit.ly/2CVq34E.

And if you don’t like it, it’s only one quick click to unsubscribe.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

(Photo of Larry & Scooby, Photo Credit: Pauline Zonneveld, Pauline Photography)

So many times this past week The Pongo Fund’s Emergency Kibble Response Team was on the road to get help to those who needed it most. Everyone struggles, no one is immune. Bend, Bandon, Medford and Ashland, Tillamook, Garibaldi, Wheeler and Astoria, Eugene, Prineville, Burns and more. We even Pongo’d just outside Boston, MA and somewhere near Helena, MT, and right in the heart of Seattle. Twice. The hardest trip came close to home, in a quiet trailer park in Clackamas. This family was hurting on every level, a shutoff notice for power, phone minutes down to the last few, cupboards bare. Two feisty seniors who have lived hard times before, so in looking around at all they did not have, they simply shrugged it off and said better times are coming. But they aren’t. Not for these two.

CHRISTMAS 2017: On Christmas morning, and everyday, we wish…

For every hungry animal searching in gutters for breakfast,
to find a filled food bowl.

Katie grapples with a condition that has a common name but we won’t mention it here because it’s not who she is. It’s simply part of her, like thick hair and long eyelashes and fingers that still remember playing the piano. She asked for dog food and treats for the dog she doesn’t have. What she asked for is not the typical way we do things. But sometimes, the typical way we do things can change. Like for Katie.

She has no money, just a little bit of disability income. Her family is mostly scattered, so she greets everyone as family. Her smile is big and broad and invites others in without hesitation. Some things may not function for her as they once did, but again, that smile, it’s pretty much the most perfect smile ever. Her mind is sharp, her wit even sharper.

Please say hello to PONGO ONE, a 12,000 pound lifesaving machine. A powerhouse of veterinary medicine bringing vital care to the doorsteps of those less fortunate. And all of that great care will be provided for free. PONGO ONE, purchased with love, as a gift for Oregon and SW Washington.

The Pongo Fund, Oregon and SW Washington’s emergency pet food bank, which has helped keep 100,000 animals safe at home and out of the shelters by providing 10,000,000 high quality meals to pets in need, launches the groundbreaking PONGO ONE, a powerhouse of veterinary medicine, bringing critical veterinary care and other services to underserved and underprivileged families and pets throughout Oregon and SW Washington. PONGO ONE will provide advanced veterinary services from our 12,000 pound, 23-foot mobile hospital, featuring two surgical rooms, a comprehensive laboratory, digital x-ray and more. PONGO ONE will provide a wide range of vital care, including exams, labwork, xrays, vaccinations, medications, dentals, spay and neuter, life-saving surgeries and other services, all at no-cost to qualified pet owners in need, including the homeless, seniors, veterans, victims of domestic violence, residents of low income housing and more.