The Golden Carriage

Much like the steel bird, the golden carriage is the route to safe haven for the fallen angels.

So it’s no secret that Dave and I work full time. We get up every morning, let dogs out, clean up the gifts they’ve left for us in the night, feed them, get medicine in them-heart meds, thyroid, seizure, trachea, skin, you name it! We refill their water, change their linens (yes that’s a fact), refresh wissypissy belly bands, and on occasion take care of whatever the morning emergency is… seizures, an eyeball boinks out, someone has pink pee, someone barfed on the laptop… you know, the usual. Then, we take turns getting in the shower, guzzle coffee, make any breakfast for ourselves that we can, make our lunch, get our workbags packed, get dressed in professional clothing (trying not to touch dogs on the way out the door) and then say, “Check you later! JenaSota is in charge!” as everyone is already settled in for their nap at 7:30 am. They could care less that we head off to the standard American rat-race, sit in traffic on the interstate, drink more coffee at work, stare at a screen all day, deal with employees, deal with administration, and figure out the next project that will make work proud of us…

At some point in the middle of that ridiculousness and monotony of work that we call life, on any random day, we’ll get a call, a text, a facebook tag, a facebook message. Did you read the Saving Days in Flight article? Well, this is much the same, but it’s on the ground. “Please help. These dogs need you. These dogs need to come to Liz E.’s.” I see the dogs and the good people that contact us, KNOW the dogs on the shown picture do need to come to Liz E.’s. They are usually neglected, abandoned, misunderstood, disabled and/or used up breeder dogs. So what happens next? I stop everything I’m doing. I hold my breath for what feels like hours, maybe days. I put out a plea, “Who is in this state? Who is close to this city? Can you get this/these dogs? Can you send me a PM?” The post blows up. Mostly with kind people sending us happy thoughts, love, encouraging words. Every time, I have the same thoughts. “I have to get this/these dogs. What will happen to them if I don’t? If we can’t find help, I’ll drive there myself. What if I lose my job? If I lose my job I can’t save dogs. It doesn’t matter. Good will prevail. This can happen. We can get them. The thoughts of how I make a living, money, pay for dogs all go out the window. I know it sounds silly, but when there’s a little lost soul that needs us, nothing in my life matters. Here comes the next question, “What does Dave think?” He feels the same way. We know this is the life purpose. We know this is the mission. We know our day jobs will carry on, replace us, find others to do the job…but who will save these little souls? Who will make sure they don’t live covered in fleas, mats, feces? Who will make sure they don’t live with that tumor? That disorder? That leg they are eating because they can’t feel it. Choke to death in their sleep because no one helped their collapsing trachea? Maybe someone would step in but this, THIS, is what I signed up for. I started out with college, a career, leading public health initiatives but as the chapters went on, I found what the south really needs from us. We cannot save them all. Someday maybe? Right now, the southeast region of the USA needs us to save the Pekingese and Pekingese mixes. These aren’t your standard dogs. These are dogs that wind up with multiple issues. They need specialized care.

The person with the dog-the individual who moved them from a bad situation, the individual who is surrendering them, the shelter who has the dog…. they can’t travel. They can’t get to Arkansas, but they can keep the dog safe, but only for a moment.

I send out a plea, an APB. Who can help? Throughout the night, my phone bings and dings and blows up all night. I try to sleep through it because I know I can’t figure out logistics in the night. In addition, all the help may be in a different time zone. That’s another issue! The next morning, I check all my messages. Who can help? Who is for real? Who is the closest? Who would make the most sense to help? Who do we trust? Will they really get the dogs? Will they really do what they said? Will they be at the meeting location as planned? This is the time that we put our trust in man-kind. We have to have faith in people. There are so many horror stories of people who said they would help and never showed up. We try to be meticulous in who we pick. We try to get all their info. We see what their record is with us or with other rescues or transport groups.

People are amazing. Holy moly. Someone out there sends a message and says, “I can do it! I’ll help! I’ll take care of it! Just tell me what to do…because I’ve never done this!” So then the logistics begin. I call, text, message whoever has the dog(s). I tell them we have a person to pick them up. Throughout the process I hope they will be easy to work with. I hope they will help us help the dogs. My heart is beating out of my chest. I hope they’ll give me a public place to meet. I hope they will answer their phone when the transporter calls. You didn’t think there was this much hope, wish, love involved? Yep. There is.

The day, the hour, the second, comes when pick up happens. The dogs are in our volunteer’s hands. Step one, check! We are part of the way there. They send a picture. I never start breathing again until they actually arrive in Arkansas, at Liz E.’s. Next step, move them into Arkansas.

We meet. It may be in Oklahoma, Missouri, Mississippi, Tennessee, Texas…. The last leg. It might be a volunteer, it might be Dave or I. There are a few people who gave up their day, their gas, their weekend to get dogs to safety. They drove anywhere from 1 hour to 5 hours… maybe more. They agreed to meet in some obscure location. They agreed to meet total stranger. They agreed to drive hours. For what? You know the answer to this one. For a dog. For the damn love of a dog. The life and renewal of a little soul who wasn’t treated right, who couldn’t speak up for themselves, who couldn’t get a job and support themselves. That little dog. The angels came together to help save a little life, or two or six or ten.

You know Willie Nelson, right? His song is appropriate to the story. Not only the dogs we have helped, but also the other thousands out there.

“If you had not fallen

Then I would not have found you

Angel flying too close to the ground

I patched up your broken wing and hung around for a while

Trying to keep your spirits up and your fever down

So leave me if you need to, I will still remember

Angle flying too close to the ground

I knew someday that you would fly away

For love’s the greatest healer to be found

So leave me if you need to, JI will still remember,

Angel flying too close to the ground

Fly on fly on past, the speed of sound

I’d rather see you up than see you down

So leave me if you need to, I will still remember,

Angel flying too close to the ground.”