She shuffle walked over to my car, I had just finished delivering dog and cat food to one of the local low-income housing projects. Her shoes were a mess, more like bits of shoes than shoes. That’s likely why she shuffled; if she took too big a step they’d fall off. Her appearance said there were many tough days in her past. But she had a smile so big it wrapped around her face twice. She said she needed dog food. I asked what kind of dog she had and she held her hands in front of her about a loaf of bread length apart and said a little dog. She kept smiling, even when she talked, and when she talked and smiled together I pretty much melted. I asked how old her dog was and she said just a puppy. I asked a few more questions as she continued to smile. She wanted 20 kibble. Why 20? Because that’s how much he eats.

Another woman walked over and touched the shuffling woman softly on the shoulder, suggesting they go back inside. Apparently they lived in one of the buildings that dot every community but oftentimes go unnoticed because we don’t want to be reminded that people live in such conditions. A lot of these forgotten folks suffer some degree of mental illness, whatever that means.

I said we were talking about how much food she needed for her dog, and now the second woman smiled too. She politely and quietly said that the shuffle woman’s dog had died many years earlier, but every now and then she would talk to him like he was still there. This young pup visited her now and then, bringing love and comfort and taking her back to a time when things were good.

I counted 20 kibble, one at a time, like they do on a game show when you win money and they count it out right in front of you. It’s the same amount of money as if they just handed it to you all at once, but so much more exciting when it comes one at a time. I placed the 20 kibble in a small bag, added our official Pongo label like we always do, and handed it to her. She said thank you, but the look in her eyes told me she was somewhere else.

I asked if her dog had a collar and she said no. I had some really small collars in bright neon colors with little studs and stones and when I showed her she touched each one gently as if she were petting a puppy. The second woman was smiling too. They left together to walk back to their building, the kind of place with an older TV in the lobby and payphone on the wall and a sometimes cranky manager watching everyone come and go thru a glass window.

I hope he saw the new dog collar she had for her puppy.

In a few hours The Pongo Fund Pet Food Bank will open our doors to help all in need. The greatest group of volunteers in the world will be there to greet everyone with a smile. And if you tell them you need 20 kibble, they’ll be happy to get you 20 kibble.

Being a helper.

And this is why we Pongo.
Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

***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. 90,000 animals helped; 9,000,000 healthy meals provided. We would be honored if you SHARE this post so that others will also know of our good work***

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 just 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. 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.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

***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. 90,000 animals helped; 9,000,000 healthy meals provided. We would be honored if you SHARE this post so that others will also know of our good work***

Friday wasn’t Friday as planned because Ikaika passed away. It came out of the blue. And instead of posting Scooby’s French Fry photo as we usually do each Friday, the immediate focus shifted to helping Ikaika and his Mom find safe landing places for this loss that was beyond words. We don’t know what happened, sometimes that’s how it works.

For those of you who didn’t know Ikaika, this was the sweet 3 year-old German Shepherd Certified Service Dog who cared for his Mom, Sara, magnificently trained to detect her potentially fatal seizures before they hit. He barked to alert her, he would get her meds, he would lean against her to support her as she collapsed. He was so skilled that he could even dial 911 to summon medical help. This dog was amazing but he never gloated on his accomplishments. He just wanted belly rubs, neck scratchies and to chase tennis balls.

A tumor on his left-front leg suddenly exploded out of control a few months ago, nasty and aggressive. Sara reached out to The Pongo Fund for help and we acted fast, because we knew that by losing him we could lose her too. We rallied and each one of you rallied with us, sending contributions of love, kind words and more to pay the bill so he could get the life-saving care he needed. His heroic surgical team at VCA East Mill Plain Animal Hospital amputated his left front leg to the shoulder, successfully fending off the nasty aggressive cancer. He bounced back as if it had never happened, continuing to do the job he was trained to do, taking only a couple weeks for rest and recovery. The labwork came back perfect, we got clean margins and no other cancer was detected. Ikaika took it all in stride, focused on loving his Mom and his squeaky toys. We were thrilled.

We’ve stayed in touch with Sara and Ikaika and together we’ve celebrated his continued good health. He had an extra happy day on Thursday, enjoying the huge Portland snowstorm and playing like a puppy. And that night as he slept, he crossed the Rainbow Bridge. He made not a sound, he just left. Sara only learned of this Friday morning when she woke up but he did not. There was no change in his overall health, he was his same happy and goofy self as usual. Heart Arrhythmia? Seizure? Blood Clot? Who knows? Doesn’t matter. Because now the focus is on helping Sara cope without her lifeline.

Sara, please know that all of us at The Pongo Fund, near and far, share in this giant loss with you. Ikaika has gone to his next heroic role, wherever that may be. But he is also still right there beside you. The same as always, just different. Please continue to feel his love.

“Remember to be gentle with yourself and others. We are all children of chance and none can say why some fields will blossom while others lay brown beneath the August sun.” ~Kent Nerburn

Being there for friends who lose friends.

In loving memory of Ikaika, the Hero dog.

And this is why we Pongo.
Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

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.

The band was ready and today Sir Monte joined them. Bowie, Prince, Glenn Frey, Merle Haggard, George Michael and of course, Mr. Leonard Cohen, greeting him with his very own Monte rendition of Montelujah. With a backup chorus of Angels too many to name, they wrapped this Sweet Babu in loving arms and welcomed him across the Rainbow Bridge and then they sang it again. Leonard said he’d never done it with Montelujah before. I heard the song, it was beautiful. Even Leonard smiled.

Now, I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Montelujah…

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 nine million meals throughout Oregon, Washington and beyond, helping more than 90,000 beloved animals stay safe at home with their families and out of the shelters. 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 1st, 2017. A New Day in 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, I am so deeply grateful to you, and I thank you, for the love you surrounded me with this past Valentine’s Day, when my 150 year-old Scooby crossed The Rainbow Bridge. Friends with Buddha, Gandhi and the Dalai Lama, Scooby lived outside, sleeping on concrete in the doorway of a building on a busy street. Sick, in tremendous pain, covered in tumors, infected ears swollen shut and more, he still climbed into my lap to lick my face when we met. Even with all the pain, this 17-year-old gentleman still wanted to properly say hello. The two of us became one. And we stayed one for almost five more years.

On that Valentine’s Day thousands of your messages came in, I read each one. I wish I could have replied to all, the hurt was too much. It still is. You shared words with me, poems and prayers, blessings and paintings and Buddha statues and so much more; all of it treasured as priceless. You told me you understood. And for a dog you never met in person, you were broken-hearted with me. Because you lost him too. There was comfort in not being alone. But I miss him. Oh how I miss him.

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.

Happy New Year from all of us at The Pongo Fund. We would be honored if you please share this post so that others may also learn of our good work.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. Always For The Animals. thepongofund.org
(Photo Credit: Pauline Zonneveld, Pauline Photography)

This sweet girl crossed the Rainbow Bridge from Alabama to Heaven two years ago today. Loved near and far, and still held close in the hearts of many. She was The Queen of Sweetness. The Doyenne of Dignity. Always loved. Always remembered. The one and only, Sweet Bebe Defee.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. Remembering Bebe. thepongofund.org

Just a few more of the thousands of wonderful animal friends helped by The Pongo Fund this year. And every single one of them we helped was helped because of you. Because everything that we do, we do together. Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

“One hundred years from now it will not matter what kind of car I drove, what kind of house I lived in, how much I had in the bank nor what my clothes looked like, but the world will be different because I was important in the life of the animals and the creatures on this earth.” ― Unknown

A cat in the crowd stood out, sitting at ease while perched on the shoulder of his person. He sat noble. He sat royal. He sat magnificent. As the crowd dispersed the man with the cat on his shoulder remained. And when the sea of people had lessened he gently moved the cat from his shoulder to the ground. And together they walked to the nearest garbage can and the man reached inside. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

They moved without secret or shame. The process took a matter of seconds. Something went inside a pocket, something else eaten in the moment. A scene played out before me that was done gracefully as a man and his cat shared snacks together. That the snacks came from a garbage can seemed unimportant.

I watched as these two pals sat down on a bench. A man wearing clothes that looked like they had many stories to tell. And a cat that didn’t care. Because he sat in the lap of the man he loved. He sat in the lap of luxury.

Sadly these scenes are not uncommon. Hungry people searching for food. And when they have pets they are hungry together. But they fight that hunger by sharing. Aside from the sadness of the moment it was a moment filled with love. And I knew it was a moment that had played out for this pair many times before.

One hundred feet away in my car was 500 pounds of cat food. Food en route to several small home-based cat rescue groups caring for more cats than their budgets allowed. Cats that had shelter and love. But they needed food. And The Pongo Fund had that food. Food that was on the way.

But first one of those bags of food was going to be delivered to the man on the bench.

When I returned to offer the food to the man and his cat I got a closer look at this team. The man was not young. He looked sturdy but frail. His clothing fit him in a way that told me the clothes had belonged to others before they belonged to him.

The cat wore a pretty collar and a harness and walked on a leash. He was clean. He was old. The way the cat was molded into the lap of the man they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. They fit right.

But the man would not talk to me. He looked away. Without words he let me know I had invaded his privacy and I was immediately embarrassed. I left and took the food with me. As I walked away I heard the man talk to his cat. I waited a few moments and returned with the food. Only this time I talked to the cat.

I introduced myself to the cat and apologized for interrupting their day. I told him how lucky he was to be sitting in his Dad’s lap. And that I thought he might enjoy this special bag of cat food and I read him the first few ingredients so he knew it was really good food.

The man still ignored me. At least the cat made eye contact. I felt honored by that. I told the cat that I was going to leave the bag of food with him and that if he didn’t want it he should tell me he didn’t want it. He sat silent. And I said since he did not object I would leave the bag of food with him.

And I pointed out that there was also a gift card with it that would allow him to buy his Dad some things at a neighborhood grocery store. The man continued to say nothing.

My conversation with the cat lasted only a few moments. But when I stood up to leave I told him that I could tell he was a well-loved and happy kitty. And I could see that he had tags on his collar and that his face and fur were clean and shiny and that I could tell he received extra special care.

The man smiled just the tiniest smile. He still said nothing. But that was all he needed to say.

As I walked away again I heard the man talk to his cat. I lingered to hear this moment just a bit longer. The man picked up the bag of food and began reading the ingredients to his kitty just as I had. They talked for several moments more.

Later on I learned where this man lived. And each month another bag of cat food appears outside his apartment door. A bag of people food too. We don’t need to know his name. We don’t need to know his cat’s name. Just being able to help lessen the burden for this man and his cat is enough.

Helping a man and his cat. Helping both by first helping one.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org
(This is a repeat post, per special request. Photo of man and cat are representative only and not the photo of the man and cat in the story.)

This is love. Just a few of the thousands of hungry animals who enjoyed Christmas dinner, thanks to you and The Pongo Fund. Because everything that we do, we do together. Did you know that many of the animals we help are seniors? Elderly animals who would have the hardest time in a shelter. But because of you and your contributions, these special friends get to stay in their homes, healthy and well-fed. And we thank you for making that possible. Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org