It is now Christmas Eve. No matter your religious beliefs it is a solemn night. A quiet night. One that will hopefully bring all of us peace and love and comfort. Even better if it comes from a beloved tail-wagging friend nearby. Or atop our head purring at us.

Or in our case, the love of a man named Howard.

He’s the man in the photo. And he’s our real life non-denominational, inter-planetary, honest-to-goodness Santa Claus. But not just for The Pongo Fund. He gives his all to help people and animals near and far. He is the rare breed of philanthropist that gives heart, time and money. And for the luckiest of us, he is also a mentor.

He lives by the Golden Rule. Heck, he might even have been one of the people that invented the Golden Rule. He is a one-of-a-kind human being. And the world is a better place because of him.

He’s also one of Scooby’s very best friends. You know Scooby. Almost 20 1/2 years old. Part Beagle. Part Basset. Part Gandhi. Part the Dalai Lama. And if you could see them together you’d swear they knew each other in a previous life. It’s always a treat-fest when these two get together. Because Howard makes sure that Scooby gets some really good pets. Some soft belly rubs. Some gentle neck scratches. And lots and lots of treats.

Everything else waits because in this single moment in time all that matters is this meeting between Howard and Scooby. Two old friends. Sharing a moment. Exactly as old friends do.

Howard and Scooby are two of the most kind and gentle souls you could ever have the pleasure of meeting. And I love them both.

Howard has another extra special dog friend too. They are BFF’s. His name is Hero. The story of how these two came together is quite special. For their bond is beyond words. I was there when it happened. From the moment they met to the love they share today. I will tell that story sometime too.

My name is Larry Chusid and I founded The Pongo Fund. I have the best job in the world. And the love of a dog named Scooby and the love of a man named Howard makes it even better.

And this is why we Pongo.

Wishing all Peace, Love and Kibble.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. Howard. thepongofund.org

A cat named Butters protected his Mom in her coma dreams against the man that used a piece of steel to crack open her head like a coconut. She used those words. He is a small cat. An old cat. Sadly the dream was real. So was the cracked head. And the coma. And the recovery of learning everything old as new again. But they both survived.

Ashamed. Sad. Angry. Broken physically and emotionally. But alive. With a cat that was the last thing she remembered before the coma. A cat that stayed with her fighting to protect her. Yet here she was, unable to afford the food to feed the cat that saved her life. And that’s when she found Pongo.

She lived in a place where she was trying to regain some semblance of normal. But she laughed and said there really was nothing normal about life anymore. Just a series of moments that made up each day. None were easy. But some were better than others.

But the best ones, she said, were the ones that she and Butters laughed about. Laughing with your cat. What could be better than that?

She asked me if I knew how bad she felt to not be able to afford cat food. Or litter? She said out loud to no one in particular, “I can’t even afford to buy him the litter so he can poop with dignity!” Then she laughed. I just stood there frozen. Fighting to not cry.

Because my tears were not what this victorious woman needed. She beat death. And now all she wanted was cat food.

But she had a story to tell. And God gave me two ears for that. And they were both listening.

The story did not contain a lot of words. But it was not a short story. It was the story of a lifetime. Only part of it was shared with me. But that was ok. Because I knew that Butters knew the rest. And it was safe with him.

This was not a “pity me” sort of conversation. It was more matter-of-fact. Here was a woman who had been left for dead but was now embarrassed that her cat was hungry. She held up her hands and made the shape of a small ball and said “he’s only this big and I don’t even have enough food to feed him right now” and then she let her hands fall back to her sides.

There were so many thoughts racing through my head right then. And thank goodness none of them made their way to my mouth. Because my words were not needed. Just being there was the most important thing.

What I really thought about was how brave this woman was to be talking to someone she did not know. But she did. She talked about other things too. Things she missed. Sweet things. Salty things. Simple things. Things the food stamps could not be wasted on.

She said thank you many times. Then she left with the cat food and the litter. The last thing she said was that she wanted to spoil her cat. But she said at least she had food and litter and she knew he would be ok with that.

Helping survivors of domestic violence is not uncommon for The Pongo Fund. One of the first days we were open brought us a woman with freshly blackened eyes and bruises. She said she was embarrassed to go out but she needed pet food. She smiled a little smile and said thank you as she left. But we knew even that little smile hurt her face.

Knowing we can help these women by helping their pets is our greatest reward. And next year we will expand our work to provide them even more help.

The next day I had a box delivered to where Butters Mom was staying. It was filled with sweet things. Salty things. And simple things.

The simple things were the easiest to get but the hardest to give. Truly simple things. Just the basics. The stuff that most of us throw out every day. Shampoo. Soap. Toothbrush and toothpaste. Toilet paper. Stuff like that.

There were some other things too. And some gift cards for more personal shopping. And for Butters a scratching post. A new collar with some good luck charms. Two different food bowls so he could have one for wet food and one for dry because she said he liked that.

There was one more thing inside that big box.

Another box overflowing with more cat toys than I could count that I hope she just turned upside down and let explode into a pile all over the floor. Because she wanted to spoil her cat. And now she could.

Christmas is one week from today. If you’d like to donate to help us, here are our secure donation links.

Paypal: https://www.thepongofund.org/contact/donation-page/ .

Give Guide: https://giveguide.org/#thepongofund

The Pongo Fund is a pet food bank. But we’re so much more. Being there for Butters and the Mom who loves him. Helping them both heal.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

(Photo is not Butters; I did not meet him. But photo looks similar to the kitty she described)

One of the saddest scenes I’d ever seen. My stomach dropped and my blood pressure jumped as I watched the pitbull lying on the pavement under the bridge. It was a bitterly cold day. The body covered in a smorgasbord of blankets and clothing haphazardly piled rump to neck. Sticking out from this cocoon of fabrics was a head. A head turned on its side. Completely still.

I waited and waited for something. Anything. I feared the worst but so desperately wanted that body to move. To give me just one signal that there was still life within. But that movement, any movement, was not there.

I approached as quietly as I could. I walked stiffly. Like my feet did not want to go there. It was only a few steps but they seemed to take forever.

So many thoughts happening all at once. In what was just a matter of seconds. But I was right there now. Right next to this dog that looked just like so many others that The Pongo Fund cares for. Soft white fur. Short hair. Pink around the nose. Solid head.

That solid head that causes so much fear for so many. But I knew it was the kind of head that had burrowed into many a chest bringing sloppy kisses. With a rump wiggling like a blur, bouncing with joy. Yes, it was that kind of dog. But not now. Not anymore. A dog that was still not moving.

As I readied a prayer, I jumped out of my skin as I heard him let out a giant snore. A SNORE. A sawing logs kind of snore. Raspy. Coarse. The perfect snore. A quick yawn. A lick of the lips. And without moving an inch, all in a split second, I realized this friend was sleeping.

And as I was trying to remember to breathe, a loud voice yelled at me from behind. “What are you doing? Leave my dog alone!”

I spun around to find a man, just a few feet away, wearing just a tshirt and shorts. He was shaking from the cold. A snoring dog at my feet. And an angry man steps away looking for answers. And all I had were tears.

I told him what had happened. That I was with The Pongo Fund and I was feeding the animals under the bridge. And as I started to explain what The Pongo Fund was, he quickly interrupted and said he knew. We talked. His teeth chattered. He had no coat. No protection from the cold.

Because everything he had was piled on his sweet friend to make sure he was not cold. The pitbull that was sawing logs. Buried underneath a lovingly crafted pile of clothing and blankets.

This man explained so many things to me at that moment. It felt like I was talking to the Dalai Lama directly. Maybe I was. He told me his dog counted on him. That he counted on his dog. And that they did all they could to keep each other warm in the bitter cold.

I told him that he needed some winter clothes. That he needed to stay warm and dry too.

And he continued, telling me how it was on so many nights that it was his dog that kept him warm. And when he got up that morning to “freshen up” he piled all the clothing on his dog to make sure he stayed warm.

That was why. Such a simple answer. And it made complete sense.

A man was cold so his dog was not.

But I knew this man was really cold. He was shivering. Even if he put all those clothes back on he would still need more to survive the winter streets. I told him that I would get him and his dog a room for a couple of nights. That I would take him to a nearby store and get him some winter clothes.

He said no thank you. Because others deserved those things more than they did. He was proud. He was obstinate. He was cold. His dog snored.

And then he said something that pretty much knocked me over.

He asked me about Scooby. My Scooby. My 20 year-old dog. I asked him how he knew Scooby and he said he’d seen us at the park. I told him Scooby was good.

He smiled. He said he was glad to hear that. The man was about my size. He knew Scooby. But here he was shivering. And I was not.

So I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a handful of pooh bags. Some treats too. I told him it was my Scooby coat. The one I wore when we walked in cold weather. I took it off and told him that Scooby would want him to have it.

It was a comfortable coat. It had a lot of stories. It was warm. And it was covered in Scooby hair.

I pushed it toward him in a way that would not let him say no. And he took it. He held it for a moment. He scrunched it up. He put it on. He said thank you. I asked him how long they’d be there. He said a bit. I asked him to wait for me.

I walked back to my car without my coat. And I drove straight home and grabbed a pair of my Scooby dog walking pants and some shirts. Some socks. Gloves. A flashlight. Some pocket warmers. Dog treats. Some other things too. Some new. Some not. But each one Scoobified.

And I drove back fast as I could, stopping only to get this cold man some hot coffee and hot breakfast.

He was still there. Sitting next to his dog. Watching him sleep. The very thing that I enjoy doing. I know you enjoy that too.

I walked over and presented him with this bulging armful of items. I looked like a walking thrift store. And then I went back to my car for more. The new sleeping bag. The dog food. The dog coat. The new leash and food bowl and more treats.

And I just stood there. Looking at everything I had brought for him and his sweet dog and I was so hopeful that at least some of it would be welcomed. That some of it would be helpful. That these items, many of them covered in Scooby hair, would bring him the same comfort they brought me.

He looked at everything and then looked at me. He looked back at it. He looked at me again. Back at it. Back to me. And he asked me why I brought him all that stuff. He wanted to know why I did this for him. Why I did this for his dog.

And as his dog continued to snore, I told him I didn’t do it. Scooby did.

Winter is upon us. We’ll run into more and more people like this. They will need us. Their dogs will need us. Last year a core group of our Facebook Friends made donations to help these most fragile people. To help them. To help their dogs. Cats too.

When it was over many of you reached out to me and said you did not know you could donate to The Pongo Fund to help the people too. And you asked me to let you know when we needed you again. The time is now.

If you’d like to donate to our Cold Weather Fund to help provide desperate folks with care and comfort during the coldest weather, please go to this link https://giveguide.org/#thepongofund and give what you can. In the line that says “Employer” please write Cold Weather Fund.

If you prefer, you may also use our Paypal https://www.thepongofund.org/contact/donation-page/ .

Donations up to $5,000 will be doubled by a person special to The Pongo Fund. Someone who cares about helping others, both two-legged and four.

But please, do me two favors.

One, if you cannot afford to give, please know that is ok. I’ll be just as happy to have you send some kind words and good thoughts. Because they bring warmth too. Because we’re all in this together.

And two, please do not post comments telling me that I did something special. Because I did exactly what any of our kind and caring Pongo volunteers would have done. What you would have done had you been there. This time it just happened to be me.

Because again, we really are all in this together. What one does, we all do.

A man shivering in the cold so his dog does not. A dog sleeping soundly buried under a mountain of warmth. One had chattering teeth. One snored the most beautiful symphony ever.

And thanks to you we got to help them both.

And this is why we Pongo.

The donation links again: https://giveguide.org/#thepongofund or https://www.thepongofund.org/contact/donation-page/ .

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

(Photo is not of the dog under the bridge, but another dog The Pongo Fund helps. They look very similar)

DOUBLE THE MONEY FOR FREE! Your Fred Meyer Community Rewards Card means big dollars for The Pongo Fund and it doesn’t cost you a penny. Simply go their website and register your Fred Meyer Rewards Card and select The Pongo Fund (#83520) as your partner.

The website is https://www.fredmeyer.com/topic/community-rewards-4 and our partner number is 83520. Money that will help us provide more help for Ken and Buzz, the man and dog featured in our Facebook story yesterday.

Then shop as usual, using your Rewards Card each time. Fred Meyer will send us a quarterly check for a percentage of total sales. Last month that check paid for two pallets of cat food! Even better, one of our donors will DOUBLE that check. Meaning that your shopping Rewards will be doubled.

And remember, it costs you nothing but will save lives all across Oregon and Washington.

Thank you from all of us at The Pongo Fund

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

This is a happy man. And he has a happy dog. Because both beat the odds that many do not. Life’s zigs and zags and curveballs that frequently lead bad places. Places that take people so far off course that they never get back. Places like drugs. Heroin to be exact. Places like prison. Several times totaling 18 years. Places like homelessness. Too many times to count.

For those people that are people just like you and I with hearts and heads and love to give but people facing some bigger challenges, the curveballs of life oftentimes never get straight. And when that happens it hurts all of us. Because we all share this earth together.

Ken is one of the people that knows drugs and prison and homelessness first hand. But that was then. And times have changed. Because this fine man has left that world behind and has been accepted into college. He is enrolled in an advanced culinary program and when he graduates he will have accomplished more than anyone may have ever thought possible. Maybe himself included.

But that’s not all.

Because Ken is the man behind the sweet 9-year-old pitbull named Buzz that I wrote about last week. Buzz the dog that was too frightened to come inside our pet food bank so he and his Dad Ken waited patiently outside instead. Choosing to sit on the cold concrete instead of the comfy chairs we offer. Just so they could get food for Buzz without causing him distress. Buzz didn’t mind sitting on the ground. But it was a lot harder for Ken. Yet he made the decision to do so. Because Buzz comes first.

Buzz the dog who has always been warm and clean and dry and well fed even when Ken was not. During all the times when both slept on the streets and there was only food and blankets for one. Buzz got them. Ken did not.

Both now doing their best to fit into a life that may not always be an easy fit. Because not everyone likes pitbulls. Because not everyone likes ex-cons.

We learned about Ken’s being accepted into college just a few days ago at The Pongo Fund. He mentioned it casually, but proudly. He mentioned it because he said we helped him get there. Because we cared about both him and his dog and we were there for them when they needed us.

He shared some of the other details of his life too. As a reminder that people can change when given the chance. People that have hope. And dogs.

What Ken did not expect was the rousing congratulations he would receive from each and every Pongo volunteer. Because each person that saw him made sure to stop and congratulate him. That was more than 20 people offering him congratulations.

When he left he told me that he did not understand how everyone knew that he was now going to college. And I told him that I was so proud of him that I shared it with the other volunteers. And that they were so proud of him that they wanted to congratulate him too.

Ken measures his words carefully. He stood there silent but with a small smile.

And then he put his hand forward to shake mine and he said thank you. And he told me that he’s not used to people congratulating him for anything. And that we had made his day.

And then he turned to leave with that smile molded in place. I could see he was proud. We were too.

Heroin. Prison. Homelessness. Now College. A dedicated and responsible dog lover to a sweet old guy named Buzz.

Ken and Buzz. Buzz and Ken. There for each other. And we are there for them.

Please feel free to congratulate Ken. He deserves it.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

For his 11th birthday Daniel gave up own gifts and instead requested donations to The Pongo Fund. Why? Because he’s never been hungry himself but he knows that others are. Why? Because his own family includes an 11 year-old Rhodesian mix named Kane, a 6 year-old Sheppie-Pug-Poodle mix named Dixie and a 5 year-old kitty named Sparky. Why? Because he cares about the hungry animals and he wants to give back to his community.

But simply sending a check is not the way he rolls. He wanted to visit The Pongo Fund in person and be part of the work we do. So this past Sunday Daniel arrived with cash in hand. He brought along his good friend Tyler, a few others as well and they got to work.

And when his shift was finished this young philanthropist helped manage the packaging of several hundred pounds of kibble for the hungry animals. They completed a mountain of 4 pound bags that just hours later were feeding hungry cats throughout our community.

When they were done we thanked him. We shook hands and off they went. These are the faces of our future. And we hope they will join us again soon. Because they made a difference. And they made us proud.

Happy Birthday Daniel!

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

No matter how bad it was for this sweet boy its better now. So very kind and gentle. Clean as can be. Ears that sparkle without a speck of dirt. His name is Buzz and you’d never know that this nine-year-old creampuff and his Dad used to spend much of their time homeless. But these two have learned to celebrate each day without complaint. Because things are really good now compared to how they used to be.

Luckily they found The Pongo Fund. And we were so happy to see them. But this dog’s past abuse made him uncomfortable inside our building. He was brave enough to come inside. And he was also brave enough to let his Dad know he was not comfortable there. Maybe his abuse occurred inside a warehouse?

Thankfully his Dad saw his nervousness. And he quickly did everything he could to help him. Not wanting to receive special treatment they left and took a seat outside. Choosing the concrete instead of our comfy chairs inside. That is where we found them.

Ken explained the situation. But he also told us he did not want to receive food faster than others that may have been waiting the same amount of time. Because that would not be fair. So he said they would wait until everyone had their turn.

We told him not to worry. That everyone would be helped as quickly as possible. Including them. No matter where they sat. Inside or outside.

A few minutes later this happy pair was on their way. With a big bag of CANIDAE Pet Foods Grain-Free dog food slung over the shoulder. And two boxes of treats. Not just food. Great food!

As they left, Paul was humming. Tails were wagging. And the sun was peeking through the clouds.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

And then there were five. Five years, that is. Because it was exactly five years ago today on November 9, 2009, that The Pongo Fund opened our doors for the first time. And now there are 7,000,000.

Pam Bartel was the first guest to receive food that special day. She and her husband had lost jobs and were facing foreclosure. They’d already given up so much. But giving up their pets – Fuzzy the dog and Spaghetti the cat – was not going to happen. Even if it meant standing in line for free pet food. And that’s exactly what they did to keep their family together.

A few minutes later while loading large bags of dog and cat food into the trunk of her car, Pam Bartel cried. And she said she was looking forward to feeding Fuzzy and Spaghetti the moment they got home.

Because for a family facing more struggles than they could count, bags of high-quality dog and cat food were the answer. The wet eyes said so. And we were there to help make it possible.

And since that day we’ve been there another 7,000,000 times. To provide 7,000,000 high-quality meals for 70,000 hungry and starving pets. Pets that are family. Pets that are deeply loved by people that turned to The Pongo Fund for the help they needed when they could not get that help anywhere else.

The help they needed to keep their family together. The help they needed to nourish both stomach and soul.

We will mark the occasion today by doing what we always do. Helping more people. Helping more pets. Keeping more families together.

There will be no party. No balloons or confetti. No dancing poodles. Just a moment of quiet reflection that we are doing something good. Something that you and me and each and every one of us that has come together to keep The Pongo Fund moving forward deserves to be proud of.

What began in the back of a Chevy Trailblazer a few years ago has blossomed into Oregon’s only full time charity fighting animal hunger. More than 7,000,000 meals of fighting animal hunger. With only high-quality food.

We have become a vital and necessary emergency food resource; not an optional one. For both people and their pets. Because it is hungry people that have hungry pets. And when those people go hungry, their pets are going hungry too.

People that love their pets just like you do. People that might even be your friends and your neighbors. Your own family. Proud people. People struggling to keep both themselves and their animals fed.

Because during the toughest of times the food box filled with people food suddenly becomes pet food. The cans of tuna become cat food; the package of ground beef and cans of chili become dog food. Same for the macaroni and cheese, soup, oatmeal, rice, pasta, green beans and more.

Food desperately needed for hungry people ends up being shared with hungry pets. Shared by people that continue to go hungry themselves because feeding their pets is more important than feeding themselves. Because the heart says so. Because pets are family too.

But thanks to The Pongo Fund things have gotten a lot better in Oregon and Washington. Because with our help tens of thousands of people with tens of thousands of pets are still together. Tens of thousands of beloved dogs and cats still at home and not in shelters. A couple hundred horses too.

And that’s because The Pongo Fund was there to help when we were needed most. Because you made that possible.

So sometime today on Sunday, November 9th, please take a moment and say a prayer for the animals. For those of you with pets please greet them with some especially kind and loving words. A good back scratch, a belly rub and extra treats. For those of you with cats please try to do the same thing. Even if they ignore you 🙂

And for those of you currently without pets please remember those that have brought you joy thanks to their unconditional love. All of those no longer here with us. Those that have gone over the Rainbow Bridge.

The Pongo Fund is powered by a dedicated volunteer Dream Team that would make any organization proud. Fueled forward by a group of generous and loving donors that keep our shelves stocked and our rent paid. Made proud by millions of kind words that come from each and every one of you.

Today, November 9, 2014, we turn 5. And together we continue to help others like no one else does. Two and four-legged alike. Giving a chance to animals that might not otherwise have a chance and giving hope to families with little else to be hopeful for.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

This story is more than just the few words I post now. It’s more than the plum-sized mass engorged and exploding from this wonderful dog’s hip. This big 90 pound Pitbull mix hunk ‘o love named Johnny. But seeing the mass still does not allow you to truly understand the need. Because you will never get to meet  this wonderful dog. Nor the man named Paul who loves him.

You will never hear the nine different voice mail messages that Paul has left for me, offering his thank you over and over and over again. Even if you could hear those messages you still likely could not. Because his words are continually drowned out by his sobbing. There is no drama. He truly is that moved. Beyond words.

A man facing the hardest of times that has lost both his own home and his own health. Truly struggling to survive one day at a time. Yet entirely focused on the health of his Johnny. This one hurts to look at. This one hurts to talk about. And sadly this is just one of many.

Yes, The Pongo Fund is a pet food bank. And we’ve provided high quality food for more than 65,000 family pets so far, keeping them safe at home and out of the shelter. But limited emergency vet care is also a quiet and respectful part of our work, thanks to the generosity of many of you that realize the animals that turn to us have nowhere else to turn.

And the reason we help is not just for the dog or the cat or the horse. It is also for the person. Because in our work one is connected to the other. And by saving one we likely save both. As this case underscores, it’s not a longshot to note that without Johnny there likely would be no more Paul.

Because when you give to The Pongo Fund you do more than just provide food for starving family pets. You also nurture their people too. Both in stomach and soul, two and four-legged alike. You feed them and you heal them. You do the work in the most kind and generous way possible. You save lives. Yes. That is what you do.

And on this blustery and rainy Portland Sunday morning, we’re thankful to report that the gnarly mass in the photo has been removed. And that Johnny is recovering well. All thanks to you. And to Briana and Dr. Cates and the entire team at Alberta Veterinary Care. For without their prompt and professional care this story would have had a very different ending. For Johnny. And for Paul too.

There are only a few people that know all that we do at The Pongo Fund. We protect those many stories to protect ourselves. Because telling those stories hurts. This is one of those stories. Luckily this one has ended well. At least so far it has. But there is more needed for both Johnny and Paul.

For a man that is himself suffering his own physical and emotional pain. For his dog Johnny suffering no more. For two connected as one that are both here to live another day.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

His million dollar smile wasn’t there just moments earlier. Not even close. But he said no one needed to know how bad things were. No one needed to know how much he was hurting. So when I pulled out my camera and asked for a photo, he flashed that great smile. Smiling on the outside. Ripped apart on the inside.

I told him he had a million dollar smile and he laughed. He said “I don’t need no million dollars. I just need for my dog to have food because without him I won’t be here. He’s the only one that hasn’t left me. And I love him. Man, if he wasn’t here…” and his voice just trailed off.

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Because I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he was saying.

He had called earlier in the day and said he had just learned about The Pongo Fund. And when he asked if we really did what he was told we do, he got choked up. I told him our next pet food bank was in just two days and he said ok.

But then he told me his dog hadn’t had a decent meal for the last two days already so I told him to head straight for us. That I’d be there to meet him.

When I got there a bit later he was already waiting for me. I told him I was sorry he had to wait and he said waiting was something he had time for these days, especially if it meant getting his dog some food.

He talked about his dog with complete love and reverence. He’d adopted him, a big beautiful Rottie, from a rescue in Grass Valley, Nevada. He showed me some photos on his phone and truly, this dog was just gorgeous. Things were good then. He had a job. His family was together. But then they changed. And now they weren’t good.

It was just him and his dog. And a car that showed the scars of a rough road.

He left with a big bag of grain-free CANIDAE Pet Foods dog food. Two boxes of treats too. I thanked him for coming to see us. I thanked him for being there for his dog. I thanked him for loving him.

And I told him that I knew he was hurting and that I really hoped things would get better. He said he did too.

As he was leaving he promised to send me some photos of his dog. But he also said he didn’t know how long his phone would still be working. He was worried about a lot of things. And I was worried about him. I gave him my telephone number and I told him to call me if he needed anything.

And then I said it again.

This man was so proud. He winced at the thought of asking for more help than the help he’d already received. But I said it a third time just so he knew I was there for them. That The Pongo Fund was there for them. That each one of you reading this now was there for them too.

I never received the photos of his dog. I called him a few days later to check on him and his phone was no longer in service. I’ve tried several more times and it’s still not working. His pride may keep him from coming back. But I hope he does.

Today is Sunday October 12th and The Pongo Fund will open our doors in just a few hours. What a gift it would be to find him there waiting for us once again.

When the love of a dog is the only love that’s left. And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org