It was a perfect afternoon. Until Scooby caught a squirrel. Yes, 20-year-old Scooby forgot every single conversation we’ve ever had about the squirrels being our friends. And he caught one. Yes, Scooby.

The dog with the mind of a Ferrari and the body of a ’67 Pontiac Bonneville.

Yes. Scooby caught a squirrel.

It was not an old squirrel and it was not a slow squirrel. It was simply a squirrel that had no idea how lightning fast Scooby could be when he wants to be fast. And neither did I. Because the Scoobster took off like a rocket. And just a moment after Scooby caught that squirrel I caught Scooby. I tackled him actually. Seriously.

It was our own version of Turducken. Squirrel. Scooby. Larry.

Thankfully Scooby quickly released that squirrel. OK, so maybe I helped him by prying his paws open and pulling him off the squirrel. And the squirrel? He ran off to regroup. But he was hiding only a few feet away and his tail was sticking out from his hiding spot. Meaning that Scooby and I both knew where he was. And that might have been his plan. He might have just been that kind of deathwish squirrel.

Scooby refused to budge. His laser focus was locked on that squirrel. So there we were, flat on the ground and wrestling each other for control. Scooby did not have a collar on so there was nothing for me to grab. And he wouldn’t move.

All the while that squirrel shook his tail at us. Scooby’s goal was to get the squirrel. My goal was to get Scooby. I finally was able to get my hands under him and scoop him up and carry him inside.

Back out I went to make sure Rocky the Squirrel was ok. And thankfully he was. But he was not only ok, he was cocky. He was belligerent. He was downright arrogant. And with that cockiness he decided to take a victory lap around the front yard.

A slow, deliberate victory lap. Stopping every few feet to dance. I think I even heard him clapping his little hands together and singing We Are the Champions.

And the entire time there was Scooby in the house, going nuts as he looked out the front window. Watching me trying to urge Rocky to scurry along. But with little success. Because Rocky was on his own schedule. And his schedule, apparently, was to annoy Scooby.

So I went back inside to console Scooby and what happened next was crazy. That little squirrel came right up to the front window and stood on his hind legs and stared right at Scooby. He trash-talked him. And the photo is how Scooby responded. There were plenty of heated words. Trust me. Plenty.

A few moments later he was back in his tree. Yes, his tree. I think he decided that he owned everything after beating death. And why shouldn’t he celebrate?

It was a moment when Bad Things Happen to Good Squirrels. But thankfully we all survived.

We look forward to seeing you again, Rocky. But next time please be faster.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. Be kind to squirrels. thepongofund.org

I wish I could meet Scooby’s Mom and thank her for raising such a great son. I’m not sure how long they were even together but she clearly did something right no matter how long it was. Because she instilled in him tremendous kindness, strength, grace and love. And those qualities have guided him through a life filled with too much sadness.

Yet despite it all and every step of the way he continues to maintain an inner sparkle that shines bright. A sparkle that he is quick to share with others in an ongoing hope to brighten their days too. It is his Scooby Sparkle.

We met on August 31, 2011, three years ago today. He had been living on the streets, sleeping in doorways and hunting in gutters for his dinner. But everything changed the moment we met.

As I knelt down to greet him he crawled onto my lap. And then he stretched his 52 pound Beagle-Basset body right up my chest to kiss my face. And he didn’t move. He remained right there, tight against me until I lifted him into the back of my car and drove home.

What I didn’t know at the time was how bad he hurt. That he had an ear infection so painful that both of his ears had swollen shut. That he had a horribly painful spinal infection that made all movement agonizing for him. And if left untreated would likely have killed him.

Yet somehow he hid that pain and found the strength to stretch himself as far as he could to give me kisses.

In terms of guardians (owners), there were as many as nine before me. Think about that. Nine different people that made a commitment to care for Scooby but no one stuck with it.

What that means is that during his first 17 years he found out over and over again what it meant to be left behind. Because it happened to him so many times. He was given to others casually, almost as if it was no big deal.

He was traded. He was bartered. He was even dropped off at a convenience store once. And then the next person would keep him for a while and then they would give him away too. But that will never happen again.

Because Scooby is part of my family now. And I love him more than words can say.

Today I celebrate Scooby. Just as I do every day. And together we celebrate each and every one of you too. Two and four-legged alike.

And when you feel the sadness of losing a beloved animal friend, when you feel the pain of learning about one more animal that has suffered at the hands of mankind, please know that we feel that pain and sadness with you.

But that Scooby feels it even more. Because he lived it.

Over and over and over again he lived it. 17 years of pain and sadness that was 17 years far too long. But never again. Because he’s one of the lucky ones.

That Scooby finds the best in everything is what amazes me most. Because after everything he’s been through it would make complete sense for him to have given up. To never trust again. But he does. And it is an incredible honor.

To celebrate his 20th birthday Scooby donated his treat allowance to The Pongo Fund to help feed other hungry animals. And a generous Pongo donor matched his donation. And they will for you too.

If you would like to join Scooby and help celebrate his birthday with a donation to The Pongo Fund, please know that it will be matched 100%. That’s right. Every single dollar will be doubled and used to purchase the next truckload of dog and cat food needed to restock our nearly empty pet food bank.

The donation link is here: http://bit.ly/1aDadEq .

Sadly there are a lot of other dogs and cats out there just like Scooby. And thankfully The Pongo Fund is here to help all of them. Donations can also be mailed to The Pongo Fund, PO Box 9000, Portland, OR 97207.

I love my Scoobs. And I thank you for loving him too.

“We must enjoy each day – one at a time. We are here on a short visit. Be sure to smell the flowers.” ~ Alfred A. Montapert

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

August 31, 2014

The paperwork said euthanasia was scheduled for Friday. One more animal at a shelter that had run out of time. Sadly the older ones and the sickest ones are usually the first to go. And for this 17 year-old dog, alone in a shelter, that meant Friday.

The paperwork also said severely worn and fractured teeth with pulp exposed, ears heavily infected, swollen and too painful to touch, a 6 cm ovoid purple mass, two large SQ masses on both the left and right abdomen, pain exhibited with extension of the hips, severe alopecia, thickened skin in many places from being chronically infected, severe dental tartar, gingivitis, allergies.

Other reports said bright pink skin, multiple warts over entire body, large SQ masses left chest, abdomen, paws, severely worn teeth, numerous hematomas, fleas, multiple and serious medical issues.

You get the idea. This dog was in rough shape. And that’s why the shelter felt euthanasia was the right thing. This dog was old. He hurt. He hurt a lot. He could not hear much because his ears were swollen shut. He could not eat much because his teeth and mouth hurt. But his spirit was strong. So, so strong!

The photo shows just one of the tumors on his paw. How in the world was he able to walk with that? How badly must it have hurt him? And that was only one of them.

Yet there he was battling through the pain to fight for another day. Because that’s all he had left.

But on Thursday his Friday changed. Because that dog was Scooby. It was three years ago and he was 17 years-old then. And instead of the Friday that was planned, we adopted each other on Thursday.

To all the rescuers and the saviors and the people that show up and stand up for the animals, thank you! You know how great this feels. Every day all of you do so much to help. You do it because you care.

And you know what a true honor it is to be the one that has the chance to make that difference. For me, on that day, I had the honor of saving Scooby.

We do it one at a time. And we do it with the hope and prayers that maybe someday we really will be able to save them all. Just like Scooby. Because the truth is, there’s a little Scooby in all of us.

This Sunday August 31st Scooby will celebrate his 20th birthday. In honor of this special day all donations to The Pongo Fund will be matched 100%. Donations last week, this week and next week too.

Every one of them will be matched up to $25,000. And that money will be used to restock our pet food bank where the dog and cat food shelves have gotten quite empty and winter is coming.

To kick off the donation celebration Scooby has donated $21 from his own Treat Fund. That’s one dollar for each year and one more to grow on. Maybe you’d like to be part of Scooby’s 21 Club?

But no matter what and if nothing else, please always send good wishes to all of the animals. May each and every one of them continue to be safe and happy and well. Wherever they are, may they always be loved.

Thank you for being there for them. Thank you for caring about them. Thank you for saving them.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

GREAT NEWS! Happy Yappy Hour is coming to The Pongo Fund. Tuesday, August 26, hosted by Road Runner Sports in NW Portland.

Stop by for food, drink, raffles, music and more. And it’s FREE! Please bring your pet family along too.

But that’s not all!

Because from today August 19^th until Scooby’s 20^th birthday on August 31^st, Road Runner Sports and a generous Pongo supporter will together donate 15% of all sales back to The Pongo Fund.

That means for the next 12 days, 15% of every single thing you buy at Road Runner Sports in NW Portland will be donated to The Pongo Fund. Shoes. Apparel. Electronics. Nutrition. Everything! THIS IS INCREDIBLE!

And all you have to do is tell them “Pongo!”

Plus, The Pongo Fund will receive another donation for every single person that attends HAPPY YAPPY HOUR. So even if you can only stay for a few minutes, please be sure and stop by. Because even those few minutes that you stay will mean a donation that allows us to feed two more pets for an entire week.

Also there to celebrate will be Unleashed by Petco, Terri Jacobsen Photography, Northwest Neighborhood Veterinary Hospital and more.

So please go visit Luci and her great crew at Road Runner Sports in NW Portland, and also be sure to stop by on August 26^th for Happy Yappy Hour from 5:30 – 8:00pm.

Even Scooby will be there accepting pre-birthday belly rubs.

ROAD RUNNER SPORTS: 27 NW 23rd Place  / Portland, Oregon 97210 / 503-200-1901

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

 

The man pointed at something. His friend turned his head quickly and watched. Followed by a little pat on the back with some kind words.

I don’t know what was said. But it made them both smile.

They were two sitting together on the park bench eating a snack. They talked. They laughed. They watched squirrels. They sat silent and watched others go by.

They passed their time doing what old friends do. Frequently looking at one another and sharing private jokes about something they saw.

I looked again and they both had their eyes shut.

It was time for them to leave. The man stood slowly, making sure he was stable as he reached for his walker. His friend waited just a moment, still seated in what looked like a position to offer support if the man tilted backward. They had done this before.

Standing upright with walker at the ready, the man turned to his friend and smiled. The friend got up, stretched, and waited until the man had the leash secure in his hand.

The squirrels would be waiting for them again tomorrow.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

She was feeding cans and bottles into the mouth of the bottle return machine. Tan with the patina of someone that spent a lot of time outdoors. Not a tropical tan. A working tan.

And based on the number of bottles she was returning it looked as if she took this work seriously. It might have even been her main source of income.

I asked her if she would let me include my empty bottles in her bottle cart. I had no more than a dollar’s worth at best. But I wanted to share them with her because I believed she could use that dollar more than I could.

I said it would be a huge favor to me if she would let me do that. But I first waited for her to say it was ok. Because I didn’t want her to think I was just leaving my empty bottles for her to deal with.

She turned around and looked me in the eye and said yes. She then said she would come inside and give me the money for the bottles. But I told her she could keep the redemption value. And then she said thank you.

But she said thank you so warmly that it caught my attention. It was genuine. She said it in a way that made me feel like I had done something special. But I had not, of course. I had simply added a few empty bottles to her cart.

Her thank you stayed on my mind while I shopped. Her taking the extra moment to turn around and look me in the eye and offer that thank you seemed far more valuable to me than the few bottles I had given her.

I was surprised to see her still outside when I left the store. I saw her looking at me, watching me as I walked toward my car. But for some reason it felt like her eyes were pulling at me.

And when I looked again she was standing next to me. I didn’t have a clue what she might say.

So I said the first words. I said “thank you for redeeming my bottles for me. It was really kind of you to do that.” She smiled, and then reached her hand out. She said “this is for you” and she handed me some folded up bills.

I reminded her that the money from my bottles was for her, that she did not need to give it back to me. She said she knew that. And I stood there baffled because she had just handed me an amount of money worth far more than the value of my few bottles.

And then she said the money was from her dog.

She went on to tell me that she recognized me from the several times I had come to her homeless camp to deliver dog food.

And that when she saw me today, wearing my Pongo shirt, she knew I was the same guy that had helped her and her friends many times before.

She told me she was now in housing and no longer homeless. That she had fought her way back from the bad times. And I was glad to hear that, because one day I found the camp was gone and I never knew what happened. And it got even better when she told me her dog was doing well too.

But she said that buying good dog food was expensive and no matter how hard she tried, there were some times that she could not afford it. She didn’t say it in a way that said she wanted me to give her more dog food. She said it in a way that told me good dog food was important to her. Really important.

So during those couple of times each month when money was extra short, she said she would go to one of the food pantries that gives out dog food from The Pongo Fund. And she thanked me for having that food there for her and her dog whenever they needed it.

And then she said “because without my dog…” but her words just trailed off and the sentence was never completed. But I knew what she meant. We all know what she meant.

The money was still in my hand. I hadn’t even opened it up for the last several moments as she told me her story. My hand and I were both frozen in time as she spoke.

And I knew that no matter how much I wanted her to keep her money it was going to stay in my hand and be put to work helping others in need. Because that was exactly what she wanted.

I thanked her again and we went our separate ways. Several minutes went by before I realized that my hand was still clenched tight around those folded up bills. And I drove on with those bills still there.

My hand was getting numb but I didn’t want to open it. I wanted to hold that moment as long as I could.

It was $14. I counted it while stopped at a red light. And even though I knew it was $14 I just kept counting it. It felt like so much more.

And then I pulled over to the curb and reached into my own pocket and pulled out $14. I added my $14 to her $14. I held all of it in my hand. Now it was $28.

A couple of friends each gave $14 more. Now it was $56. One of their friends gave $14. Now it was $70.

The $14 Club wasn’t meant to be a club. It just happened. It happened because a woman wanted to pay it back while paying it forward. Maybe you’d like to do it too? To give $14?

Because how kind it would be to give $14 to honor this woman who pays her way by returning the bottles that others leave behind. She works hard. She works proud. And she loves her dog.

The best part?

It may very well be the best $14 any of us have ever given.The donation link is here: https://www.thepongofund.org/contact/donation-page/.

$14.

Just knowing that you shared your time to read this story is meaningful to me. And I thank you.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

 

He approached the garbage can outside the store in a way that told me he had done it many times before. Gently pulling the lid to the side and peeking inside, seeking the treasure to redeem a nickel at a time.

But this particular garbage can was messy. The lid was askew and there was garbage on the ground outside the can. It wasn’t pretty.

I was stopped at a red light and watched it happen. Lid off. Peek inside. Lid on again. I could quickly see by the man’s actions that this can held no treasure.

Yet when he was finished he didn’t just walk away. Instead he bent down and picked up the loose garbage and placed it inside the can. And then he made sure the lid was on straight and secure when he was finished.

And then he and his best friend rolled off, having left this little piece of the world in better shape than they found it.

But before I saw any of that, what I saw was the dog. A sweet boy riding around in a shopping cart. That’s what first caught my eye.

At the next block I caught up with them, parked and said hello. His name was Tim; he’s the one on his knees behind the cart. And inside the cart riding like royalty was nine-month old Ted. They’d been together since Ted was a tiny 6 weeks old.

On the road with a dream to get back home to Iowa. But not too fast. First they were going to visit some old friends and make some new ones. And then they’d hit the road for the highway home.

I asked if Ted needed food and Tim said they would be honored. And when he opened his Oregon Public Broadcasting logo satchel to put the food inside, what I saw was a meticulously organized bag filled with Ted’s supplies. Food and more food. Water bowl. Extra leash. Vet records. It would have made every organizing expert proud.

And the best part? The food they already had was our Pongo food. Food they’d received earlier from one of the many other groups that we provide food to.

We talked for a few moments but what I really wanted to know was more about Ted and the shopping cart. Because I wanted to make sure that he was ok.

And that’s when Tim gave me a funny look. Like maybe I’d asked a question that I should not have asked. Like maybe there was something hidden inside the cart that Ted was sitting on to keep it hidden. But I was wrong.

Because at that moment Tim reached down and pushed on and lifted and fluffed the assorted goods that Ted was sitting on to show me how cushy and comfortable it was for Ted. And at that same moment Ted turned his head backward and gave Tim a smooch. But that wasn’t all.

Because Tim then went on to say that it was way too hot for him to let Ted walk on the already scorching sidewalk. Kindly explaining to me that a dog’s paws are no different than our own bare feet. Further explaining how easily a dog’s paws can become burned and how painful that would be and how we need to remember if it’s too hot for us then it’s surely too hot for them.

He then said his own feet were hot and he was wearing shoes. And there was just no way he’d let Ted burn his paws on these hot days. And upon hearing that I broke into the biggest grin because it was just what I wanted to hear.

A man living his life in a way that surely was not always easy. Yet making sure along the way that his dog had it easier.

But Tim wasn’t a large man, and Ted weighed a good 65 pounds. Meaning that getting Ted into that cart could not be easy. And I asked him about that; how he gets Ted into and out of the cart?

And he looked at me again with his easy smile, and said “we do it together.”

Tim and Ted. Ted and Tim. On the road together. Fueled with food from The Pongo Fund.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

 

Her name is Eliana and she just turned five years old. And for her fifth birthday party she made the decision to forego her own birthday presents and instead have her friends donate to The Pongo Fund.

We asked her Mom how that came about and she said it really was Eliana’s idea. Even at her young age she understands that she has much while many others do not. So she decided to share.

And that means hungry animals in Portland and beyond will thrive on the food donated by this young philanthropist. An amount so large that it overflowed an 18 gallon bin!

But that’s not all. Because when she delivered the food on Sunday she also stepped right up to join our Sunday morning kibble pack team. Five years old and making the world a better place for those less fortunate.

Kibble on, Eliana. Kibble on!

And this why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

Happy tears and sad tears come from the same place. And we shed them both in abundance yesterday as we said goodbye to Dutch and Francis.

Ten days after tragedy was averted when Dutch was rescued from the cab of the long-haul truck he shares with Francis when Francis ended up in the emergency room, they were reunited.

It was just a few seconds before this photo was taken that Dutch entered the lobby at Sniff Dog Hotel. Just as he had many times before during the past 10 days when he would find me happily waiting to take him for a walk.

But this time it was different. This time he instead found a whole group of people in the lobby including a photographer, a television cameraman and several Sniff employees. And across the room he found his Dad.

It took him just a moment to realize what was happening. But once he saw Francis nothing else mattered. And he ran straight for him.

That single moment in time is the very moment that each one of us had been looking forward to since we first rescued Dutch 10 days earlier.

He was all alone in his truck and had been alone all night. The sun was coming up and filling his truck with warmth. Far too much warmth for safety. And now there was a stranger at his door calling his name. That stranger was me.

But with complete trust and bravery he allowed me to open that door, to give him some neck scratchies and attach Scooby’s leash to his collar. And that is how I met Dutch for the first time.

And now ten days later this sweetest Keeshond, a big guy that I have grown to love as my very own, was seeing his Dad for the first time.

He happy danced his way across the lobby and jumped up gently to kiss his face. With paws extended he stretched for the face that he knows.  A face that surely tasted salty with both happy and sad tears together. And then he kissed the face that he loved.

He then wiggled his way into a far too small area next to his Dad just so he could be closer. Just so he could be a lap dog and once again lay his head on the lap of the man he had not seen for 10 days of human time.

Then it hit him. As he surveyed the room he really seemed to take it all in. And then he sighed the kind of sigh that said the world was right again.

But then Dutch saw Jim, Francis’s Dad. His Grandpa. And he rocketed off Francis’s lap and rushed to him, standing tall on his hind legs as Jim leaned forward.

And then these two old friends greeted each other in a way I’ll never forget. And those same tears were leaking out of Jim’s eyes too.

Jim, the retired and proud trucker with diesel in his DNA was crying as he leaned forward to kiss the dog he loved. With the son he loved sitting just a few feet away.

It was a moment later that Dutch found me. And I got kisses too. Then he pushed his way deep into my chest and leaned close. Just remaining there for a few moments in the same pose we have held many times during the past 10 days. Because every single walk we had together included some cuddle time.

And I knew what that moment meant. Dutch did too. No words were needed.

The cameraman left. The photographer finished. And then it was just a few of us remaining. Reluctant to say the goodbyes that we knew must be said.

But first Jamie from Sniff Dog Hotel gave Francis, Jim and Dutch the full Sniff tour so they could also see how Dutch had spent the past ten days.

And then Jamie did something that surely made her entire Sniff Team even more proud. With a tremendous gesture of kindness and generosity she cancelled the whole bill for Dutch’s entire 10 day stay.

There was not a single penny due for his view suite and his play groups and his brush outs and his baths and for the countless moments that the Sniff Team put forth to make sure this sweet boy never felt alone. And she sent them on their way with a bag of treats for the road.

But in return they know they received something far more valuable. They received the heartfelt gratitude of a man and his dog that were alone and 1,700 miles from home.

Our entire community received that heartfelt gratitude. Because each one of us were the helpers that made this potentially sad story a happy one.

As Mother Teresa said, “Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and always start with the person nearest you.”

And that’s what we did. Together we reached forward and embraced these two truckers, two-legged and four. And we helped them. And we did it well.

Today let us we look back and proudly share in this moment together. Because what we do, we do together.

And this why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

Nine days in a Portland hospital for a Minnesota long-haul trucker named Francis. And missing his dog every step of the way.

As he lay in that lonely hospital bed all he could think about was the dog he loved. The dog that was his constant trucking and traveling companion. The dog that had been alone in his truck all night long.

But in the midst of bad came good. Because thankfully his ER physician was Sarah, one of the core group of incredible volunteers that make up The Pongo Fund. And shortly after Francis mentioned his dire situation to Sarah, The Pongo Fund was on the way.

A man and his dog 1,700 miles from home facing potentially the worst of times. But instead a group of people rallied around these two kind souls. Together we have rooted for them and we have cared for them and they have felt the love from the hundreds of thousands that have followed their story.

While Francis remains hospitalized Dutch has filled his days with a daily schedule of walks and spa visits and sunbathing and naps and two different playgroups. But most of all his days have been filled with love.

He has made friends everywhere. On his daily walks every tree, every leaf, every single thing has become a friend. He walks with his head held high and greets every one he sees. Even if only for a moment because he wants to be sure that nothing is forgotten.

Just ask Miles, the 16 year-old blind and deaf Maltese that joined Dutch for a walk. Or Zoey the Poodle or Belle the Boxer or Frankie the Labrador. Each one of them became walking buddies as Dutch strolled through the neighborhood.

And every step of the way his tail wags as he learns about a place he never knew before. Surrounded by people he’s only known briefly. Yet he embraces all of it with a zest and a verve that would make the bravest explorer proud.

But no one has loved him more during these past nine days than the team at Sniff Dog Hotel. Because each and every one of them has stepped forward to make sure that he never felt alone.

Several of them have even spent their break times curled up with him. Petting him. Talking to him. Just being with him. Letting him know he is loved. And Dutch has returned that love many times over.

He has reminded us of the strength of spirit that we all hold within. A spirit that just waits for a chance to sparkle.  And this past week this brave boy has sparkled big time.  And every single person that has been part of his story is the better for it.

At least once each day I rejoice in giving Francis an update. A few days ago, the day after his own surgery and when the frustration of his situation was settling in, I told him about Dutch’s day.

About how Dutch had a bath and how he’d had two different playgroups and how I’d taken him on a special walk and how he’d met a little tiny Chihuahua named Sophie and how he’d kissed her ever so softly and how Sophie had tried to climb onto his back for a ride and how Dutch almost seemed to giggle as that happened.

I told him all of these things so that he would not feel forgotten. So that he too could celebrate the great moments and good fortune that had brought all of us together.

And as I shared, Francis just kept saying thank you. Over and over again he said thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. But he also said he didn’t know what he had done to deserve this.

So I reminded him that at some point in his life he must have done some exceptional things for others and this was how the universe was repaying him. By allowing us to be there for him to care for the most important friend he has. His one and only Dutch.

There was a long pause. And his voice began to do that cracking thing again.

Then Francis said one of the nicest things that anyone has ever said to me.

He said “You’re an Angel. All of you are Angels. I know that you were sent here to look after Dutch and me and I just can’t thank you enough.”

And now it was my turn for my voice to crack a little. Because I was stunned to receive such a deeply meaningful compliment from a man I didn’t know who has a dog I have grown to love as my very own.

And the best part is that this wonderful compliment was not just for me. It was for all of us.

I am thrilled to tell you that Dutch continues to do great. Today he’ll enjoy another fantastic Sniff day filled with naps and playtime and walks and good food and lots of love. Later this week he will enjoy his first massage, compliments of Rubi Sullivan at Heal Animal Massage. And then he’ll head out with some of the Pongo Team for a day of exploring local parks.

And with more good news Francis continues to get better as well. And as he improves, their time in Portland will soon come to an end. Meaning that it won’t be long until we say Godspeed to these two truckers as they hit the road again.

Together each and every one of us near and far has been here for Dutch and Francis. From a single moment in time a group of people have rallied together with names like Sarah and Sniff and Howard and Jamie and Casey and Jim and Leslie and Josh and Rubi and Pongo and so many more.

We have made our home their home. We have made them feel welcome. And my hope is that someday they will look back on these days and know that they were cared for by people who loved them.

And if that makes us Angels, then I am proud to be an Angel. And I invite all of you to join me too. We shall all be Angels together.

This story will be continued.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org