I sit. I wait.

It’s a blur. The beginning of the save is always a blur. We are alerted. Someone, usually several, send us messages about a dog or dogs, stuck in a shelter or stuck with someone will no longer care for them (that’s a different story you can read here, Excuse: An explanation to justify a fault. Our recent Elsa was a prime example).

Yes, we know life happens. And just like we mentioned in our story Excuse: An explanation to justify a fault, that is an entirely different situation. In this story, it turns out life did happen and ended. The pet parent of three little marvels passed away. We don’t know if there was family that choose not to help OR if all this person had in his/her life were the dogs. As we understand it, the dogs were brought to the veterinarian’s office when their parent died. Shortly after, the dogs were turned over to the local shelter. Once in a shelter, there’s a holding period. The days and nights slowly tick by. These tiny souls, who can’t find their parent and don’t understand what’s happening, sit in a stainless-steel cage, together or apart, waiting. Waiting for someone, something, anything, to happen next. If we could be anywhere at any given time with a twitch of the nose, we would be. However, rules and policies prevent dogs from being sent to safety as quickly as we prefer. Some are near death’s door before getting out and some don’t make it out because the wait was too long. For 19 lonely days, these elders sat…and waited. Reeking of urine, matted, scared, watching, waiting and waiting…

Crawfy waits.

Gumshoe and Tawdry wait.

We find out what dogs need us and where they are, we send out the offer to the shelter or person that we have a place of refuge and safety for the dogs. Once we received the green light that the dogs may come under our care, the network starts doing what they do best. Kicked into high gear, the communication gateway opens with messages, calls, emails, volunteers, and logistics. Plan A was not working out. Small planes and winter weather do not mix. Next up, Plan B. I contacted one of our “Golden Carriage” volunteers. She was poised and ready. With logistics lined out, she and her husband drove across the southeastern region of the United States before dawn (as they have in the past), to help three tiny canines who were sitting…patiently waiting and waiting.

Then…their lucky day.

This is when we must have faith that all the players will do what they promised. The Golden Carriage heads out (you can read more about The Golden Carriage here). Several hours later, across three states, the Golden Carriage arrives at the shelter. Will the shelter open on time? Will the employee we are depending on show up to work that day? Will the dogs be ready to be released? Will everyone involved be on the same page? Paperwork and dogs ready? In this case, thankfully, they were. Three little dogs were set free from their stainless-steel cages and placed into the Golden Carriage for the literal ride of their lives.

Next stop is either usually another volunteer transporter or Liz E.’s. In this case, Dave and I drove hours south to meet our volunteer who drove all day, moving down the highway to bring animals to safety. Now 5:30 pm, we meet. Three perfectly splendid dogs are transferred from one Golden Carriage to another. We hug and wish everyone safe travels back. We start our trek home.

We arrive at back at Liz E.’s sanctuary in the cold after dark. Logistics start again. We have three new dogs to set up in their own private suite before they are mainstreamed. Before that happens, we have to take steps to get their new world ready: outside to run in the yard and check out the grounds, potty pads down, belly bands sized and stocked, flea medication, wormer, bowls for water and food prep, and even some kisses and snacks! Three stinky, once scared, little dogs are now starting to decompress. Their eyes brighten, their tails go up, they no longer wait.

Dave and I get the new kids settled in. It’s 9 pm. We have other dogs to take outside, to feed, potty pads to clean up, belly bands to restock. Dinner for us comes last. We go to work tomorrow, rise and shine! Veterinary appointments are made. We add the new dogs to the scheduled routine: potty, feeding, clean up any messes, …um… bath time for them! P-U!

We will know more about their status after their vet visit, but all are sweet, loving, curious little animals.

Please welcome Tawdry, Gumshoe and Crawfy to their new LIVES!

If you would like to help with their care and the care of others, please visit our homepage Pekingesepatrol.com. Recurring donations are an option that create stability for us. We never know what day or time another dog in need will turn up. We offer round the clock care and a life without worry for those who are left behind. Recurring monthly donations create stability for everyone who lands here. Our hearts and the souls who arrive, Thank you. for your kindness and generosity.