What a day for Dutch! Just a few hours earlier he was all alone locked inside his truck having spent the entire night there all by himself. He didn’t have a clue where his Dad was, unaware that he was lying in an emergency room awaiting surgery.  All he knew was that something clearly was not right.

And now just hours after being rescued he was in the lap of luxury at Sniff Dog Hotel with a floor to ceiling window that offered a view of the very hospital his Dad was in.

I couldn’t help but wonder what Dutch thought of how his day had turned out. What was he thinking?

But the truth is I already knew the answer. Because he was saying thank you with every wag of his tail. With each moment that he looked into my eyes he was saying thank you. I knew he knew. And I understood him clearly.

I’ve always believed that our animal friends are far smarter than we are. And that they know much more than we give them credit for. Aside from the goofy things they do that we really don’t understand, I know you know it too. They don’t need computers to tell us. They do it the old fashioned way. With love.

They know what’s good. They know what’s not good. And to earn their trust is one of the greatest gifts ever. Dutch trusted me because I smelled like Scooby, my almost 20 year-old mix of Beagle, Bassett, Gandhi and the Dalai Lama. Dutch also knew I was there to help. And that trust was the foundation for everything to come.

Some people say that dogs aren’t smart enough to talk. I disagree. I think they are plenty smart and they show it by not talking. At least not in a language we understand. But they really do communicate just fine.

Maybe the truth is we’re just too stubborn to accept how well they do things. And that frustrates us. Just as we’re frustrated by how gracefully they manage to ignore the minutiae and the drama and the grudges and the petty strife that we people stumble over each day.

They don’t text with anger or post nasty comments on Facebook about traffic jams or bad service in restaurants. They focus on what’s important. Because they know that life is a balance. Be good. Do good. Isn’t it really just that simple?

And that’s why I knew that Dutch would be ok spending his first night in a new place. Because he was one of the special ones. One of the wonderful dogs that we all secretly long to be. If even only for a moment.

Most of all, I knew that he knew he was loved. And after a day that would challenge anyone I knew that the love he felt was the ultimate gift. As I drove away after taking Dutch on one last walk for the day I reached for the phone to call Francis.

Because just a few hours earlier he was in surgery and I knew that the best news he could hear right now was another update telling him that Dutch was safe and well and settled in for the night. And I also wanted him to know that he was not forgotten. That we were there for him too. Him and Dutch.

Francis is a man of few words. Even more so after his surgery. But he still enjoyed hearing about how Dutch was doing. And if nothing else I knew he would rest more comfortably and dream sweeter dreams knowing that his sweet boy was safe and happy and well.

I knew that they both needed plenty of rest because the next day would be a big day for each of them. Francis would likely wake to some pain and concern and look forward to good news. And Dutch would wake to breakfast, a walk, a brushing, a bath, another brushing, another walk and lots and lots of love.

It would be a healing day for Francis. It would be a healing day for Dutch. And it really did turn out to be a very good day for both of them.

This story will be continued.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

A few days ago a long-haul truck driver passing through Portland was rushed to the emergency room. Once there he learned he was being admitted for emergency surgery. Alone and 1,700 miles from home it was just him and his dog and the rig they rode in.

But his greatest fear was not his own health. It was the dog that stayed behind. The next morning he told his ER physician that his dog Dutch was all alone and had been there all night. With the sun coming up and a warm day forecast, he didn’t know what to do.

Luckily his physician is part of the elite group of volunteers that make up The Pongo Fund. This multi-part story tells what happened from that moment forward as we quickly stepped in to find that truck and to rescue Dutch.

With Dutch curled up and sound asleep in the back of my car I called Francis to let him know that his best friend was safe. And when I gave him the good news there was a pause. A long pause. A pause that made me think he had not heard me. So I said it again. Dutch is with me and he’s safe.

But I was wrong. I didn’t need to repeat it. “I heard you the first time,” Francis said. I just couldn’t speak for a moment.” And as he said those words, I heard the crack in his voice. Then he cleared his throat. He said thank you. And he quickly got off the phone because this United States Veteran did not want me to hear him cry.

It was a special moment. Because at the very same moment I was talking with Francis, just a few feet behind me was Dutch curled up on Scooby’s bed. He was snoring softly. He was content. I was surrounded by the love of this team, Francis and Dutch. And with few audible words or sounds, they both let me know how much this moment meant.

As the saying goes it takes a village. And The Pongo Fund is blessed to have a great village of friends. Every single one of you reading this story is part of that village. Far too many people and businesses to name individually. What we do, we do because of you. We do it with you. We do it together.

Sniff Dog Hotel is part of our village. They help us whenever they can, always quick to remind us to let them know when they can help us again. So when I was on my way to get Dutch I made the call to Sniff. Because I needed to know that Dutch would have a safe and comfortable place to stay.

Without hesitation, their answer was yes. Jamie, one of the Sniff owners, said to bring Dutch over, that they had a perfect room waiting for him.

When Dutch arrived at Sniff he didn’t know what to think. His Dad was in the emergency room, but he didn’t know that. He just knew his Dad was not there. And here was this new place filled with new people and new smells. But he handled it with grace. He stood quietly, wagging his tail softly as he gently smelled his new surroundings.

No one knew Dutch at that point and he certainly didn’t know any of us. But it was a moment of mutual trust. The Sniff staff greeted him by name and escorted him to his room. And he happily followed.

And what a room it was.

A large view suite with a floor to ceiling window, looking north toward a freeway bridge filled with trucks just like the one he and his Dad ride in. And the best part is that in the distance his view faced the very hospital that his Dad was staying in.

There were dual food bowls for food and water, both elevated for ease of eating. And an elevated bed. A bed that Dutch jumped onto immediately. He’d had a big morning and now it was time to rest.

I made another call to Francis to let him know that Dutch was settled and was staying at Sniff Dog Hotel. Francis chuckled. He said “a hotel?” I said yes. He said “a hotel for dogs? I said yes. “Really? I’ve never heard of that.” And I said it was the very best kind of hotel.

And then I described Dutch’s room with a view looking north toward the hospital he was at and his voice grew quiet and made that cracking sound again. But this time I knew he had heard me. And I knew what that cracking sound was. It meant that once again this proud and stoic United States Veteran was choking back tears of joy.

I wished him a great day and told him I’d check back in later to see how he was doing. Because later that day he would be heading into his own surgery.

I got home and told Scooby the entire story as he busily smelled Dutch on my clothes. Scooby knew what had happened and I know he was proud to have played a role in helping this sweet boy that began his day all alone and 1,700 miles from home.

But the best part was that he was alone no more. He had his own village of new friends. He had me. He had Scooby. And he had the entire team at Sniff.

And then Scooby got lots of treats and belly scratchies too.

I visited Dutch again later that day and took him for a walk. He had only been there a few hours but was already wagging his tail when they brought him out to see me. Together we explored the neighborhood and then it was back to Sniff for his dinner and a well-deserved night of rest. A night that would be far different than the night before.

When he returned his new Sniff friend Leslie was waiting for him. He jumped onto her lap as the photo shows. Francis was out of surgery. And Dutch had a lap to rest his head on. He was home. And it was a good day.

This story will be continued.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

 

The Pongo Fund has a fantastic group of exceptional volunteers. We have a Pet Food Bank. An Emergency Kibble Response Team. A Pongo to the Rescue Team. A Spay-Neuter Team. A Pongo Meals on Wheels Team. We truly have so very much to be thankful for.

But with everything we do have, what we don’t have is a Rescue a Dog from a Truck Team. That is, not until now.

Shortly after Sarah, the Emergency Room physician and Pongo volunteer, alerted The Pongo Fund to a dog in danger we were on our way to the emergency room to talk with Francis. We needed to learn everything we could about Dutch. Most importantly, how would Dutch react when a total stranger tried to enter his truck?

At the hospital Francis said Dutch was a totally sweet boy. But he admitted he did not know for sure what his 60 pound friend would do when a total stranger tried to enter his truck. And that was our main concern.

Francis was frustrated because he desperately wanted to help. But he could not walk and he could not leave and he knew the only help he could offer was hope and prayers. And then we were off, because we needed to reach Dutch as quickly as possible.

Truck stops are big places. The one where Francis had parked his rig was more than five acres in size. And that meant hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of trucks and trailers. And to the untrained eye many of them looked similar.

With luck on our side, just 30 minutes after leaving Francis at the hospital we found the truck. The windows were open enough to call out to Dutch, who was likely sleeping on the bed in the cab. So as not to startle him, we softly called his name.

“Dutch.” “Dutch.” “Dutchie.” “Good morning Dutch.”

Slowly, a giant ball of fur moved to the driver’s seat. He moved cautiously. He moved in a way that said he was not sure what was going on. And that he knew this stranger was not Francis.

An arm went up to the window for him to sniff. He stepped closer. He sniffed once. He sniffed twice. Several times he sniffed just to be sure. Back and forth he went. And then he sat down and stared.

He did not bark. He did not growl. After several moments of intense sniffing he simply sat down quietly. For some reason he seemed content. Maybe that’s because the stranger at the window was me. And before I left my house I had Scooby roll around in my clothes.  Because no one can resist Scooby.

Scooby, my almost 20-year-old mix of Beagle, Bassett, Gandhi and the Dalai Lama was the very first friend that Dutch smelled. It was Pongo to the Rescue and Scooby to the Rescue!

The next moment was truly rewarding. Because Dutch sat perfectly still and allowed the door to be opened. I slowly reached inside and gave him some neck scratchies and gently attached a leash to his collar. And then together we stepped back down to the ground.

We then walked a few feet to the first shrub we saw and after holding it all night, he peed his first pee in nearly 12 hours. And he sure did have to go!

Moments later he jumped into the back of my car and off we went. I watched him in the rear view mirror as we drove off. He was sitting up and staring out the window. But a few moments later I suddenly could not see him. I stretched my neck as far as I could and I found him. He was curled up in a ball on Scooby’s car bed. Sound asleep.

And that’s when I called Francis and told him I had Dutch. And that everything was ok.

This story will be continued.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

The dog in the photo peeking out the window is one of the bravest dogs you will ever meet. Because he did something that he knew he should not do. He let a stranger into his home.

This brave boy is Dutch.  An 8 year-old, 60 pound Keeshond rescued six years ago. And with every reason to not trust again. But when he met Francis, a long-haul truck driver, everything changed. And since that day these two best friends have traveled the country together. As Francis said, “Dutch is my one and only. We’re a team.”

But at that moment Dutch did not know why a stranger was suddenly at his door trying to get inside. He did not know that his dad Francis lay in an emergency room awaiting surgery. All Dutch knew was that he’d been alone all night. And now someone was there calling his name. Someone he did not know.

Francis arrived at the hospital the night before and in a lot of pain. He was not sure what was wrong but he knew it wasn’t good. Still he was hopeful he’d get in, get checked and get back to his truck parked at the truck stop ten miles away. Where Dutch was.

Because when you’re 1,700 miles from home you don’t want to think about ending up in an emergency room. So when he left his truck he told his best friend he’d be back in a couple of hours. But that’s not what happened.

Because those two hours turned into a lot more when he was admitted to the hospital for emergency surgery. Lying in his hospital bed all he could do was think about Dutch. About how scared he must be alone in the truck. He had food. He had water. But he didn’t have Francis.

This stoic and pensive United States Veteran that carries the same name as the Patron Saint of Animals spoke softly and measured his words carefully. He had faced fear many times before. But this time his greatest fear was not his own pending surgery. His greatest fear was what would happen to Dutch.

In frustration he told the emergency room staff: “I don’t care if you have to cut off my whole leg. Just let my dog be ok.”

The next morning as he learned he was not leaving anytime soon he told his ER physician that his dog was still in his truck and he was worried sick about him. And with the sun coming up he knew he needed to get help because it was going to be a warm day.

His ER physician was named Sarah. And with every bit of good luck on his side at that moment it turned out that Sarah knew all about The Pongo Fund.

But she didn’t just know about it casually. Sarah is part of The Pongo Fund.  One of an elite group of volunteers that do all they can when they can to help people and pets through the toughest of times. And this was definitely one of those times.

What Sarah really wanted to do was leave the hospital and head to the truck stop and get Dutch. But she could not because a school shooting had just occurred moments earlier and her ER stood ready for victims.

Instead she turned to the group that she herself gives her time to. She turned to The Pongo Fund.

This is what she said: “I have a patient who’s a truck driver passing through. He’s going to need to stay in the hospital for a couple days and his dog is in his rig at the truck stop. He hasn’t been out since about 10pm last night….how can we help?”

This story will be continued.

During the month of May The Pongo Fund provided nutritious pet food for more than 2,600 beloved family pets. Animals that were going hungry because their families were temporarily unable to keep them fed. Pets just like sweet Luna.

Quite simply, The Pongo Fund gives a chance to animals that might not otherwise have a chance and gives hope to families that have little else to be hopeful for.  Because sometimes a simple bowl of kibble is the force that both keeps a family together and saves the lives of the animals they love.

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

There is a Secret Place filled with special kitties. Ferals. Strays. Street Cats. House Cats. Hospice. Each and every one of them a survivor.

We cannot tell you where this secret sanctuary is because privacy is crucial to their work. But when this special place needed emergency help with food for some of their most finicky residents, they turned to The Pongo Fund. And 1,000 cans of cat food is on the way to them now.

Today these kitties purr and meow and do what kitties love to do. What they want. When they want. But they will never leave this beautiful place because their needs are too great.  Which is not a bad thing. Because this secret place is indeed a beautiful place.

Hooray for these kitties. These brave and battle-scarred and wonderful kitties that have survived against the odds. Their sad tales and toughest days are behind them now. They are safe. And The Pongo Fund will help keep them fed while they enjoy their golden years.

Thank you to each and every one of you that has donated to our Pongo to the Rescue program. A special fund that helps us help the hard-working no-kill sanctuaries and rescues meet their greatest food needs.

Together. You. And us. We will always do this work together.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

Pongo to the Rescue donation link is here: http://bit.ly/1aDadEq (please write Pongo to the Rescue in the comments section)

Most of you will never visit The Pongo Fund in person. This is what it looks like. Two dozen volunteers helping throngs of people keep their hungry pets fed when times are so tough that they cannot afford to keep them fed otherwise.

Volunteers working together to bring hope and help to both people and their pets. Because it is hungry people that have hungry pets. And thanks to you and the help you provide us, those animals get another chance. Their food bowls are filled in the morning and evening, and their comfortably full tummies tell them that today will be a better day.

Since we began 4 ½ years ago we have provided more than 6,000,000 nutritious meals for 65,000 beloved animals. Keeping them safe at home and out of the shelters. Because sometimes a simple bowl of kibble is the force that both keeps a family together and saves the lives of the animals they love.

And it is all thanks to you!

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org

This is Portland Police K-9 Officer Mick. He died yesterday. Killed in the line of duty while doing the very job he was trained to do. Protecting his partner. Protecting his community. Officer Mick was more than a dog. He was one of Portland’s Finest. He was a hero. Sworn to protect. Dedicated to serve.

And yesterday on April 16, 2014, K-9 Officer Mick protected and served to the highest level by saving his partner’s life while giving his own life at the same time. The ultimate sacrifice. He was only 19 months old.

This tragedy has hit many of us hard. A community grieves. But our pain, the pain of a community, is nothing compared to the pain felt by his wounded Portland Police partner, Officer Jeff Dorn. Because his loss is far greater, far more painful, than our loss.

As Ililani A. Morrison wrote on The Pongo Fund Facebook page, “Some things are hard to understand. Peace to those who are suffering the loss of this beautiful animal and healing thoughts to the injured officer whose injuries are far beyond the wounds to his legs.”

And as Monica Kelly Wright wrote, “Rest in peace, beautiful boy. Your work is done, your shift is over. Thank you for your service, great heart! May you have sunshine and green fields across the bridge and justice on this earth for the criminal that took your life!”

All of us at The Pongo Fund echo those words. And we pray for the speedy healing of wounded Officer Dorn while we join together and mourn the death of his K-9 partner, Officer Mick.

And above all, we pray for the safety of every one of our officers every day, both two-legged and four. We thank them for their brave service to this community. A community that today mourns a four-legged hero named Mick.

Yesterday Officer Mick saved lives. Today he is gone. And he will be missed.

Please join all of us at The Pongo Fund in saying a prayer in memory of this hero, K-9 Officer Mick.

We wish you always peace, love and kibble. From all of us at The Pongo Fund.

Written by Larry Chusid, The Pongo Fund, April 17, 2014.

thepongofund.org

Thank you Newton. Because this bag of food you donated with love to The Pongo Fund filled food bowls for three dogs living with their people in a forested area not far from downtown Portland. Three men and three dogs. Completely visible to each other. Yet seemingly invisible to the rest of the world that passed them by each day.

Men and dogs that are some of the finest people I could ever hope to meet. Kind, soft-spoken and respectful of each other and the ground which they called home. Carrying their struggles packed neatly in their packs, not willing to let them go but not willing to let those struggles define them either.

Men with grace. Men with many years of life still to live. Men that have learned lessons. Men that know they will learn more lessons still.

Yet these three men with their three dogs temporarily living under trees and stars on hard soil told me they felt blessed in more ways than I can ever describe in words.

And while they sojourned in this one place in time with the sunlight shining gently through the trees, they smiled. Feeling warmth inside and out, they smiled. With appreciation for what they felt was their own good fortune because so many others have it worse, they smiled. They smiled. They smiled. They smiled. And I smiled with them.

Men that smiled. And their dogs that smiled too. All smiling together. Thanking me for the bag of food that I brought to them when they needed it most. But it was them that deserved my thanks, because they made my own day better.

Thankful that someone told me the path to walk that led me to the path that led me to them. The path that led me to meet three great dogs and three kind men.

Three dogs now eating great food. With kibbles dancing in metal bowls while tails wagged. All thanks to a bag of food given with love by a doggie named Newton. Thank you Newton.

And this is why we Pongo.

Peace. Love. Kibble. thepongofund.org

Henry the kitty passed away. And in his memory his two-legged family donated a bag of cat food to The Pongo Fund. The note read: “Our beloved Henry never worried about going hungry. But we know other cats are not so lucky. Please give this bag of food to another one loved like Henry.”

The bag of cat food that was donated in memory of Henry…the very bag of food that would nourish another kitty friend…today we gave that bag of food to another kitty. And guess who got it?

Another kitty named Henry! Henry feeding Henry. 

Here’s to the Henrys. And this is why we Pongo.

thepongofund.org