There are three hours left in our fiscal year but what a three hours they’ll be. Because until midnight tonight all donations will be tripled. We help the homeless. We help the veterans. We help survivors of domestic violence; seniors, grandmothers, maybe even but we hope not, your grandmother? We help 85 year-old veterans with two oxygen tanks strapped to their wheelchairs who still get up to salute us when we’re done. We help 15 year-old cats with abscesses, we help 19 year-old dogs with tumors the size of baseballs. We help good souls with two legs and four and sometimes one or three or none. We judge not and those we do not judge bless us in return. We provide food for tens of thousands; veterinary care, spay-neuter, a host of other things too, thanks to a compassionate corps of veterinarians who go forth helping us help others. We crawl on knees in dirt through homeless camps; we step over the treasures stacked high in the homes of hoarders. We greet, we welcome, we smile. We start with love. We help people who have little left but their dreams and the love of their animals. These are proud people, even prouder animals. They do not beg. And they are gracious and kind and deeply appreciative even if they sometimes forget to say thank you because they are so overcome with joy. We pretty much help anyone in honest need because it could be any of us. Life works that way. But we can’t do it without you, and that’s why we’re here now, 9pm on a Friday night, asking for your help. Because we need you. If you can give, now is the time to do it. Do it for you. Do it for a friend. Donation link is here: https://www.thepongofund.org/contact/donation-page/.

Checks can also be mailed to The Pongo Fund, PO Box 9000, Portland, OR, 97207. Please get in touch with any questions, because we can stretch a dollar a lot farther than you might know. Thank you for reading 

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

His back, legs, hips; they all took a beating over the years. His chair was motorized, it looked fancy, but it’s taken a beating too. Held together with duct tape, spit and gum; arm rests sliced open by elbows. It was someone else’s chair first; maybe it will be someone else’s chair again. For now its Jerry’s chair, duct tape and all. Best of all, it’s Levi’s chair too.

Jerry served his country, then a lengthy career as a long haul driver, delivering the things that you and I take for granted. But his back, his legs, his hips, when they were gone so was his livelihood. He lives in a small apartment now in a building full of small apartments filled with people who share similar stories. Lots of veterans, lots of brave survivors of domestic violence, lots of proud men and women who enjoy life the best they can on small disability funds and a meager allowance of food stamps. These folks can’t work; the battles have beaten them down. Just getting out of bed is the victory. But within their world, surrounded by one another, they’re all rich.

He got out of bed this morning because Levi was ready for breakfast. His physical injuries took a toll, but it was the depression that hit him hardest. The physical hurts he understood, but what about the rest? How to fight that depression? Then he met Levi. And for the past five years these two have been one, connected as deeply as can be.

Levi sat on Jerry’s lap, his head burrowed snug into Jerry’s side, deep underneath his right arm. We could tell this is the place that Levi has found comfort many times before. And it was there on Jerry’s lap, while Levi ignored the world, that Dr. Robin and Dr. Melissa worked their medical magic. Eyes, ears, heart, lungs, legs, paws, fur; it was the full meal deal. No exam tables, no cold floors. On a lap, that was the table. Not rushed, not hurried, not anything except taking the time to make sure that Levi was ok. Because if Levi was ok, Jerry was ok too.

What I wish you could have seen, and I know I can’t get the words right to tell you, was how the entire time that Levi was on Jerry’s lap burrowed under his right arm, Jerry used his left arm to softly pet Levi. Nonstop pets mingled with soft words of encouragement. That left arm kept moving down Levi’s spine, starting at the neck and drifting to the tail then back to the neck all over again. These were honest pets, strokes of love, not forced or pretended to be special, they were special, each one done with meaning. It was their song, their rhythm, their dance.

Levi needed a rabies shot so with the utmost of care Dr. Robin and Dr. Melissa gently lifted Levi into their arms and gave him that shot. The whole thing took only a few seconds. But here’s the thing that still gets me now. Even when Levi was off his lap, Jerry kept his left arm moving in the same rhythm, not missing one single pet, even though Levi was not there.

Just moving his hand, giving those air guitar pets, comforted him. I know the words don’t make sense, I know my sentence structure sucks, but if only you could have seen it. And the moment Levi was back on his lap their dance continued, as if he had been there the whole time.

It is those moments that Dr. Robin, Dr. Melissa and all of us at The Pongo Fund smile that smile that reminds us we’re doing good things. The things that are only possible because you are there to help us get them done.

Levi is one of many pets we saw that day, one of the more than 90,000 beloved animals we’ve helped so far with the high-quality food and vital veterinary care they can’t get anywhere else. We are honored to do this work, and we thank you for being there with us. Because everything we do, we do together.

He cradled that cat like a Super Bowl football. And he trusted us enough to help.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

***With innovative programs including our Pet Food Bank, Mobile Veterinary Hospital and Emergency Kibble Response Team, The Pongo Fund helps thousands of animals every year. Powered by a dedicated volunteer driven team, our award-winning non-profit organization provides 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***

In Memory of Karen Clark. We’re heartbroken, it came out of the blue, we lost one of our own today. Karen filled the room with the heart of 100, she overflowed with a rare and powerful zest for life. Pick your busiest day and chances are Karen was busier. Editing the condo newsletter, organizing the next potluck dinner, shopping for silly little things to make people smile, visiting with her Mom, wine tasting, cookie baking, flower arranging, lunching with friends, growing the best garden bounty ever, managing another home improvement project. And most importantly, showering her kitties with love. Even with that chaotic schedule she still managed to Pongo, missing only four days in seven years. Today was one of those days.

Karen was a sparkplug, a human Bedazzler, she was confetti. She lived life and she lived it to the fullest. With a laugh that laughed the way laughter was meant to be laughed. An absolutely beautiful Human inside and out. Her smile was the first smile you’d see when you came to The Pongo Fund; it was just her way. And when she asked how you were doing, she really meant it. Before you knew it you were feeling better, listening to one of her stories that could weave together moments straight out of Seinfeld. That was Karen. Love and Joy and Hope and Happiness. And always putting others first.

The time it was pouring rain and there’s Karen zipping out the door in her motorized wheelchair, a plastic bag over her head and a big bag of dog food slung across her lap. Several minutes later she came zipping back in and we asked what in the world was she doing? She said someone needed help getting the food to their car, so she helped them. Karen, in her wheelchair, in the rain, hauling dog food to someone’s car, to help them.

Sometimes people came to The Pongo Fund just to see Karen, even when they didn’t need food. She had a fan club that way, her groupies, her Karenettes. One time I joked that maybe she should print some business cards with her name and phone number, and she could give them out to people who needed to talk. She scoffed and laughed, but a few minutes later she said maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Because even she knew that sparkles and rainbows ran through her veins, and like Mary Tyler Moore, she could take a nothing day and make it all seem worthwhile.

It was just a couple hours before we opened today that we learned Karen was gone. And I speak for all of us at The Pongo Fund that we’re still numb now. We had a job to do and through tears we did it, just as Karen would insist we do. It hurt to not see her in her usual place at Distribution; instead, in her place was her nametag and a bouquet of flowers.

Karen is survived by a loving family and a large group of friends who were like family. And also by the loves of her life, Rain and Powell, her two Kitty Cat Clarks. We all loved this woman to the moon and back, and the best part was, she knew that. And she loved us too.

In memory of Karen Clark. Always loved, Always remembered.

And Forever a Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

#karenclark #thepongofund #friend

I always hoped I’d see him. You’ve seen him too, he’s everywhere; every city, every corner. Someone just like him hoping they will end the day with a little more than they started. More hope. More love. For him, he also hoped for more dog food. And that’s why, every time I saw him, his dog was next to him. Most often curled up tight on a bed they brought with them in a wagon, along with a water dish and food bowl. And that was how they rolled. This dog was a soft-jowled pit bull, with the kind of face that made me park my car and walk over to say hello the first time I saw them. I just had to pet this dog. And he was everything I knew he would be. Soft. Sweet. He kissed like he meant it. He wasn’t young but he wasn’t old, he just was who he was. They’d been homeless for so long they took it in stride. Thankfully during the worst weather they’d find respite with some folks they knew. But still, they were homeless.

I helped as I could; bringing food as needed for both of them or whatever else I sensed they needed. I knew others helped them too. He’d also mentioned having a veterinarian for his dog, a vet who he paid, and I believed him because this dog looked great. Even when he struggled to make that payment he still did so, because that’s how he grew up. Helping others, but never asking for help for himself. And it made sense, because this man never asked me for anything. Even when I asked him what he needed, he said that I already knew, telling me to help others and if there was something left, he would welcome it. He broke it down so simply, like a human fortune cookie.

I saw them when I saw them, not every day by any means, just every couple of months, but whenever it was, that dog was always there. When he uncurled himself from his nap to say hello, he made me feel extra important. Because watching him as he slept, I knew he was interrupting a great dream just for me. And I bet he interrupted his dreams many times each day for lots of others, too. He was that special of a dog friend.

It caught my attention the last time I saw him, because his dog friend was not there. And my heart sank. Because I knew what it meant, but I needed to ask anyway. The same way people still ask me about Scooby, not knowing he has crossed the Rainbow Bridge, but maybe they kind of know in their heart that he did. But they ask, because they hope and they love. So I asked how this pit bull kisser was, ready for the answer I already knew. And he said “oh, he’s doing great, I decided to let him stay at home today and catch up on his sleep.” And I about fell over, because so many parts of that sentence weren’t what I expected.

A phone call led to another phone call and to another, and they had found an apartment. It was small, but it was home. And there was a door and windows and a roof and all the basic comforts that most of us take for granted. And now they had them too. I could feel my eyes get watery even though I told them not to. This man, his ship had come in, and he could not be happier. Nor could he be more proud. Because this man did not seek assistance from the system, he paid his way even when he could have received help. He had some limited savings, he collected cans and bottles, he did odd jobs, and he said he did anything respectable for a little extra. So this little place, it was really theirs. And he just beamed when he told me about it.

We ended the same way we always did, with me asking what I could do to help. And once again he told me to help others first. Because he had everything he needed. In moments like this one, I am reminded that even with little, he might have more than I have. And that’s why each time I stop to say hello, I know I’ll walk away better for it.

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

(dog in photo is a dog The Pongo Fund helps, but not the dog mentioned in story)

He has ears like landing strips and sings like Pavarotti, but he has some aches and pains and infections too. Adn that’s why we’re here. Nine-year-old Baaron is Dog #1 out of some of the 50 animals that The Pongo Fund Emergency Veterinary Response Team will provide care for at a place filled with love in downtown Portland. A building packed with people who know struggles on a first name basis. But they also have pets, lots of them senior pets. And while these wonderful people may be short on the dollars needed to enjoy all that life has to offer, their pets know no such challenges. All they know is that they are loved. But sometimes things like arthritis and yeasty ears and infected eyes and sore teeth and heart murmurs and tumors and masses and overgrown nails and fleas and allergies and all sorts of things that cause these animals to hurt and ache and itch need some extra help, the kind of help these wonderful people who are dignified war veterans and brave survivors of domestic violence and strong people who have kicked drug habits and so much more do not have the money to pay for. And that’s where The Pongo Fund comes in. Teaming up with Dr. Melissa and Dr. Robin, we arrive on scene with a mobile medical hospital and do everything we can to bring comfort to all, two and four-legged alike. And before we leave we even set up a pet food pantry in this building so these animals will never go hungry. These are long days filled with critical work, but they leave our hearts so full that we’ve already scheduled our next visit. As for Baaron, we got this sweet guy feeling better, and he even treated us to a song when we were done.

This is Dixie, one of the tens of thousands of special animal friends who have received free food or vital veterinary care thanks to you and The Pongo Fund. Because everything that we do, we do together.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

His caseworker called, told us where he was. Said his home life was troubled so he left and never went back. It wasn’t that long ago but sometimes even a few months can seem like forever. Even with all the services available nothing hit home. He drifted with the wind and although he was part of the system, no one could reach him. She did all she could, but he was one of many. He was only 18. But she still had hope. And this was her chance. A couple of weeks ago he got a dog from someone else. They were now a team, still alone but alone together. But something about this dog hit home in a way she never could. And this lost 18-year-old now had a purpose, the beginning of a direction. She said he still struggled, but he was using the services available with more inspiration. He cared. Maybe not for himself, but for his dog. What did he need? Food, he needed food. For him, yes, because he was hungry, but most of all, he needed food for his dog. Could we help? And could we do it fast?

In loving memory of Scooby Chusid.
August 31, 1994 – February 14, 2016.
The 150 year-old Beagle King. My Gandhi. My Love.
“You’re off to great places. Today is your day.
Your mountain is waiting, So get on your way” — Dr. Seuss
Farewell my friend. Safe travels.
‘til we meet again. –Love Always, Larry

She sat on a stoop with a smile so big you’d think she didn’t have a care in the world. But you knew she did. Her appearance said she likely spent a lot of time outdoors. She had a cat too, tucked inside her half-zipped coat, then outside her coat, then behind her knees, then back inside her coat. I was just finishing a Pop-Up Pongo, this time under the bridge, peeking into some of the homeless sites to see if anyone needed pet food.

A few months ago a woman donated a used laundry cart, like the one in the photo. She included it with some other items, saying only that she no longer needed it. We had a hunch it hadn’t been used for laundry, likely something far more important. She asked if we wanted it and before anyone could respond, she said “you’ll know what to do with it when the time is right.” A few days later my regular Pop-Up Pongo cart broke so I began using the little laundry cart. It became my Kibble Cart. The tires were loose and wobbly, the whole thing was kind of rickety. Meaning you could not move too fast with it because if you moved too fast it would fall over. So in its own way, this worn and rickety Kibble Cart forced me to slow down, to be in the moment. Maybe that was the plan all along.

I saw the woman on the stoop when I was almost back to my car. I had a few bags of cat food left and some blankets; I stopped to say hello. I asked her cat’s name and she said Clover, “she’s my lucky charm.” Clover was now tucked directly beneath her chin like another little head and they were both looking right at me. And to reinforce her point, she said “you should have seen me before I found Clover.” She shared a story about what happens to a woman when life goes sideways and the person you trusted was no longer able to be trusted. And how everything you thought you had was suddenly gone. That was her story. It happened some time ago but she was still so frightened by it that she would not share her name.

But to watch her and this cat, it was poetic. They were one. And then Clover was on me too, stretching her leash far as she could to smell my shoe, then my knee, then my hand and then boom, right into my lap.

And there we sat for several minutes. Not talking in words but still talking. The truth was, sitting there was peaceful. And that’s when I realized I was smiling too. Just like she was. Maybe Clover really was a lucky charm.

She asked if the cat food in my cart was for my cat, I told her I did not have a cat. So logically she asked why I had the food since we never talked about what I was doing. But before I could answer, she was proud to tell me, if I ever did get a cat, that the Pongo food was good food and I should use it. How did she know? That’s what she feeds Clover. She told me where she gets it, how she sometimes stands in line for it, but she had no idea that I was part of The Pongo Fund. It just never came up.

She said she used to have a cart like mine and she missed it because Clover used to ride inside. And right on cue Clover leaped inside the cart and snuggled up atop the small mountain of food and blankets. And that’s why when I left to walk back to my car, the cat food, the blankets and the Kibble Cart stayed behind, now in the possession of a kind woman with a big smile and a lucky charm cat named Clover.

The woman who donated the cart was right, when she said “you’ll know what to do with it when the time is right.”

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

Huge THANKS to the great folks at Salty’s Pet Supply and Fang & Feather, and their super generous customers, who donated enough money this past holiday season to purchase more than 35,000 meals for the hungry animals. And all of it donated to The Pongo Fund! This is a huge amount of food and it will go far in making a lifesaving difference for those less fortunate.

And let’s also hear it for this happy guy named Nik, from Animal Supply Company, who was the lucky one to help deliver this bounty. He is standing next to just one of the four massive pallets of food we were honored to receive.

Thank you to Salty’s Pet Supply, Fang & Feather, and everyone who made this possible. What a wonderful thing you have done.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org