This is PhoDographer’s first ever Guest Contribution on the blog, and I couldn’t think of a better story or two better suited contributors on this inaugural occasion to help tell this story. The true story of two dogs on death row, a team of compassionate animal rescuers and a day that would forever change my life, with no shortage of heartache, determination, faith and forgiveness.
I met dog #151 and dog #152 on my last birthday, February 20th, 2011. I remember it clearly. Because while I have photographed countless rescue dogs over the years, I had never mustered the courage to photograph “death row” dogs. Dogs who, through no fault of their own, were at great risk of being killed in the very shelters established to protect them. I had lost my beloved dog, Calvin, four years earlier on my birthday. And I was still mourning the loss of my father, who’s valiant battle with cancer ended just three weeks prior. But somehow, those painful losses were the catalyst that helped me gain the strength and courage to finally face these death row dogs. I suddenly realized that, after a decade of not feeling I had it in me to photograph dogs at risk, I desperately wanted to be a part of helping to give them every opportunity to live. After watching my father suffer for so many months and feeling completely helpless, I had a very strong need to help these dogs in a way that I couldn’t have done before – to walk into a shelter and face my fears so that I could do my part to help save lives. And I knew that in the end, even if I was unsuccessful, I could sleep at night knowing at least that I did what I could to give the dogs the very best chance at finding rescue rather than turning a blind eye to their plight.
So I responded to a serendipitous request that I had just received from my friends at Recycled Doggies, asking for volunteers to help photograph animals at a rural shelter that they had just begun a relationship with. When we arrived, we had our work cut out for us. There were 14 dogs that needed rescue and they were all slated to die in 72 hours. And of those dogs, the two most pitiful, desperate, broken dogs were “#151″ and “#152″ They had come in together from the same household, and there was no doubt that these two had suffered great neglect and abuse at the hand of man. They were frightened of their own shadows, and infinitely more petrified of any of the volunteers, not to mention a camera staring them down. We were told that they were “unadoptable”, and that they’d be the first two to die. It was a painful declaration to walk into, and at that point, I have to admit that I did question my own sanity for opening myself up to all of this when I could have just as easily been celebrating my birthday at home with family and friends.
Setting aside my fear, I focused my attention to the work that my friends and I had set out to do. This was no small effort for a few volunteers given 90 minutes with the dogs, and little more than 48 hours to save 14 lives. Looking back at that moment, I realize that I had absolutely no idea what I had gotten myself into. The enormity of the task was overwhelming, the risks were high and the potential for heartache was undeniable. The phrase, “ignorance is bliss”, kept swirling through my mind, and it had a certain comforting ring to it. The sheer amount of time, energy, dedication, compassion and around-the-clock effort that goes into a rescue mission like this is mind-boggling and deserving of a separate discussion all its own. To read more about this particular rescue, click here. And to learn more about all the behind-the-scenes workings needed for a successful rescue team, click here.
In the course of the next hour and a half, we met all of the dogs, took them out for walks, vaccinated them, photographed them and performed general health checks and temperament testing. But we found it was nearly impossible to get these two dogs out of their kennel. And once we finally accomplished that, we were no better off as there was no way in the world we were getting them anywhere near the doorway to step outside. Though none of us spoke it, I’m quite certain we all realized that if we didn’t get these dogs out of here, they would live and die their final days right there – scared, confused and alone in the confines of a barren holding pen – chain-link fence, concrete floor, engulfed in a sea of fear and excrement, the echoes of barking all around them – never to step foot on grass or feel sunshine on their backs again.
We didn’t give up hope. As we do with all the dogs, we took the time to give each of them a name. A name all their own. A name that would reflect, to some extent, the little bit that we were able to discern about each dog and his/her personality. Because we cared about each and every one of them as individuals. And because they deserve more than being labeled an “ID Number”. And because sadly, the only thing belonging the them that they may have come into the shelter with – a name – had been stripped from them the moment they walked through the doors. They were simply assigned the next sequential number on the list of a long assembly line of dogs. Along with all the others dogs that day, we gave these two special boys a name. A name of their very own. And with that, we began to restore some level dignity and compassion that each of them deserves. No doubt, they deserve so much more than this. But it was a start. And we vowed to give them back hope, and ultimately, their lives.
On that day, “#152″ became Journey, and “#151″ became Tristan.
And this is where I sign off and the story is best told by my two very good friends, Jessica and Lori, both dedicated volunteers with Recycled Doggies, a local rescue group in town that focuses its efforts on saving death row dogs.
Jessica, tell me about the day you met Journey.
Journey and Tristan broke my heart the first day I met them at the Clinton County Animal Shelter. They were both broken and just begged not to be noticed. Tristan sat in the drain in the back of his kennel trying to get as far away from the volunteers as he possibly could. Journey had his face buried in the back of his kennel trying to make himself invisible. He wouldn’t move. I tried to get him outside for some fresh air but he wouldn’t budge. I got him out in front of his kennel but that’s as far as we got. I sat on the floor of the aisle with Journey and scratched behind his ears and tried to make him feel comfortable. I was thankful that you were there to take some pictures in the hopes we could find someone to foster him.
When the Dog Warden had told us that Journey and Tristan would be two of the first dogs to be put down because surely no one would want to adopt them, I couldn’t believe his inability to look past their fear and see their potential. Or simply just give these poor souls the benefit of the doubt and a chance that they never had. We learned that Journey and Tristan came from a home where they were terribly abused. The Warden had been called to a house because dead puppies had been found in a ditch across the street. When he got there, he found nine dogs living in outdoor kennels. The man signed over just two of the dogs to the Warden. And little did they know that their new journey had just begun.
When did you decide to foster Journey?
I already had a foster dog staying with me and I couldn’t take another but I couldn’t imagine Journey’s life ending in that shelter. He had looked into my eyes that day and I promised to save him. I didn’t think I could take him so I posted his picture on Facebook begging for someone to save him. No one volunteered. With time running out, I got more and more desperate to find a way to save this boy. Shannon, who runs Recycled Doggies, knew how important saving this dog was to me. So we moved my foster dog to a new home so that we could save Journey. I knew it would be a tough journey but I was ready for whatever lie ahead for the two of us.
Lori, you weren’t with us at the shelter the day that Journey and Tristan came in. Can you tell me how you first found out about Tristan?
I saw Tristan’s picture with those hauntingly sad eyes, and terrified look. He was cowering in the drain ditch at the shelter, and fear seeped from him. His eyes saw no hope, his spirit was broken and his heart had been betrayed. He was posted as one of the dogs at that was going to be killed.
When did you decide to foster him? It was a total leap of faith, and I acted with my heart and not my head. I kept waiting for someone else to step up and foster this sweet dog. I remember listing aloud like a grocery list, all of the reasons why I couldn’t take him. Yet, I kept checking back to see if he was safe. In the end I realized that no one else was going to step up, so if it was going to be, it was going to be me. So in the late hours the night before he was to be killed I told Shannon that I would foster him. I could not let him die in that shelter.
What was it like when these boys came home with you?
Jessica: Journey was brought to the vet immediately after he left the shelter on his ride to freedom. I got a text message from Shannon saying he had two dislocated hip, two buckshot pellets in his abdomen and a heart murmur. I picked him up from the vet the following day and he rode all the way back to my house with his face buried in the back of my car. All sixty-three pounds of him had to be carried into my house and he was frozen in fear once inside. He wouldn’t eat at first. It took me a few weeks to get him to eat regularly. I cooked for him -I bought him hot dogs, deli meat and anything I could think of to try to get him to eat something. Nothing worked at first. He would tense up anytime I came into the room. I sat with him. I would lie next to him and talk to him. I even sang to him. I wanted him to know he was safe.
Slowly I started noticing a softness in his face. He stopped flinching when I would pet him. He started eating in front of me. He was learning habits from my dogs. I didn’t hear a sound out of him for the first few months, until I started leaving my pug in the room with him when I was gone. She’s quite the barker and Journey started barking when I came home and when he saw me first thing in the morning. Now he howls in excitement every morning when he sees me. I think he’s mostly excited to know it’s time for his breakfast!
When it was time to start taking him to adoption events I was nervous for him. He’s not afraid of other dogs at all but he is terrified of people. He cowered in the back of a crate when anyone tried to reach in to pet him. It was stressful for both of us. I couldn’t stand seeing him like that.
Lori: I picked him up with my friend Ashley from the animal hospital in the evening after work. I had no idea what to expect and what I expected could not have come close to what I found when I arrived. They warned me, they told me he was having a hard time and as they carried him into the room I was sitting in, he took one look at me and released his bowels and bladder out of sheer terror desperately trying to make himself melt into the wall not to be noticed. What had I gotten myself into?
The vet tech carried him to my car and once home Ashley and I managed to carry him from the car (he is about 60lbs) and up the stairs to a spare bedroom. He was terrified, and made himself almost lifeless. He would stay in that room for over a month. The first weeks he would not come out from the corner he shoved himself into with his head under the bed. I would have to crawl and shove my head under the other side of the bed to talk to him, so I could see him, try to comfort him. I would read to him (my favorite kids book “Tales of the 4th grade nothing”, and articles from the cooking magazine” Saveur” were some of his favorites…less howling during those selections) just to get him used to my voice. The terrified look remained. He was not sleeping, (which meant no one was sleeping!) he was howling and boy did he excel at the howling. Night after night I would drag myself into his room and lie with him. Then one night I was drifting off to sleep lying on the floor about 4 feet from him. I was half awake and then I felt it on my hand. It was that slobbery, kinda tickly feeling…I realized he was gently kissing my hand. I lie there motionless afraid to move, afraid to breath, with tears streaming down my face. That is the moment I fell in love with this dog.
Tell us about how these dogs have changed and what challenges they have faced?
Lori: Tristan is not the same dog that came into my house that first night. He was shut down, terrified, and his heart and trust had been betrayed. Now, he loves to play with the schnauzers, Tully and Maggie, and almost wiggles out of his skin when he sees Journey. He gives kisses, loves his breakfast and for some reason my dirty socks (ugh) – but whatever makes him happy! He is learning to trust, and while it is a very slow process and he still struggles, I know he will be just fine. I told him the first night he was here that we would go slow and just do the best we could for each other. He has changed my life and I am so grateful that this dog was not killed.
Jessica: Loud sounds and quick movements still scare Journey. He’s been with me for more than seven months now but he can’t completely let go of his previous abuse. I recently had an animal communicator speak with him. What she said took me back to the day I met him in the shelter. She said she thought a young boy that lived with him in his previous home dragged him around by his back legs, kicked his bowl away from him while he was eating and was playing with a gun and shot Journey in the stomach. How I walk the earth with people capable of this kind of abuse is appalling.
Tell me more about your experience with the animal communicator.
Jessica: The communicator felt Journey was afraid of going back “there”. How do I assure him he never has to go back? She thinks Journey was brought into his previous home as a young puppy and never shown love. He never got to play. What I do know for sure is that he spent his entire life prior to coming into my life, living outside in a concrete pen built to house lions.
Lori: Yes, I did have Tristan talk with a communicator and it was an amazing experience. One of the questions I asked was if there was anything in my house that reminded him of the place he came from. He communicated that he did not like the privacy fencing in my backyard because their was the same kind of fencing in the yard he came from and no one could see what they were doing to him. It was heartbreaking to think of him being abused and no one able to see.
I also asked if he had ever know love, and he did. A young woman loved him as a puppy but they moved into a house with a man and his sons and that is when his life changed. It is hard to imagine the hell he lived though and that he is thriving and happy and will conquer the fears he has.
What have you learned from Journey?
I have learned so much from Journey. I have a soft spot for dogs that are a challenge. The ones no one else understands. The Dog Warden at Clinton County couldn’t see it but I saw a normal dog, a very scared dog that just needed to be shown love. Journey taught me that no matter what your past, with love and patience walls will come down.
What has Tristan taught you?
Tristan has shown me that even when you are terrified, when it seems impossible, when the effort does not seem like it is going anywhere….do not give up. I have learned that incredible capacity that animals and people have to trust again after they have been broken and betrayed. Oh, and I’ve also learned that couches, molding and baseboards are highly overrated.
Jessica, you recently decided to adopt Journey yourself. Can you tell me what led to that decision?
As many expected, Journey is no longer my foster dog. He is a Krogman. At a recent adoption event a kid was practically clinging to his crate and crying, begging his mom to let him take Journey home. Journey looked petrified in the crate. In my head I was saying “back away from the crate”! Journey was mine. I accept him for the dog he is. And I came to the realization that no one was going to finish this “journey” with him but me.
What is your hope for Journey?
I hope he will continue to learn and begin to trust humans again. I have faith in my little mutt with the crooked ears. Some people don’t realize the exceptional amount of progress that he’s made since that first day in February. I see it every day. I see it when he gives me a kiss, howls at me in the morning and when we drive down the road, windows down with his nose in the air, taking in the smells of the world.
Let Journey’s story be a lesson to anyone who judges a book by its cover.
What is your hope for Tristan?
My hope is that he can one day soon walk through the world without fear, without assuming it is a scary place and that he will be hurt by human hands. My hope is that he can touch other people’s lives as he has mine and show everyone that animals who have been abused and neglected are worth saving and not killing simply because we failed them.
I cannot end this post without taking a moment to express my sincere gratitude to these two “highly unadoptable dogs” who will have a place in my heart forever. Thank you for setting aside your own fear and pain and giving us a chance to show you the love you’ve always deserved. You’re brave and strong, and your story will be an inspiration to so many who have given up hope, and a reason to keep fighting for the other lost souls out there – including your seven brothers. I pray that one day we’ll be able to reunite you with them and you can help them learn to heal and forgive as you have. It’s been a joy to watch you in your journey to find your path home. I love you, boys!
“If not you, then who? If not now, then when?” ~Hillel
Note: Both Lori and Jessica each have their own blogs, about… what else? Dogs! Be sure to check out Jessica’s blog, A Girl and her Blog and her Dogs, and Lori’s Dog-lbs blog.
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