Underdog Railroad - Update 9-21-09

Valentino, My Mascot

My friend, Diane, and I went to Trader Joe's yesterday. When we came out of the store, we noticed a dog adoption group was set up at the corner, so we wandered down. It turned out to be Animal Lifeline, the group for which I drove my first dog transport. And guess what? Ally, the little dachsund, and Serria, the Aussie mix were there being offered for adoption! It was so great to see them again. They seemed very happy and comfortable being on display, although Ally seemed a bit tired.

Hobie, the four-month black lab puppy who howled most of the way in the car, has already been adopted. Ally had three people who just that day had put in applications for her. And Serria also had two or three people very interested. And Serria has shown what a great dog she is. She's been trained already to sit. She loves people and we're very proud of her.

Thankfully, Ally, Serria and Hobie were rescued and will be living a happy life. They deserve it!

Underdog Railroad - Sept. 5, 2009

No one told me to take ear plugs. My first dog transport assignment on Saturday, September 5 was a success. But it was not without its hiccups.

I left my house, Google Map directions in hand, for Morgantown, PA, at 8:00 AM. This was new territory for me. Although I didn’t need to be there until 9:30 AM, and it was only an hour’s drive, I wanted to be sure I didn’t get lost. Fortunately, a couple miles before the exit off the turnpike, I spotted a McDonald’s billboard that told me to take Route 10 South. South was not part of my directions, but I confirmed it with the toll booth operator. I paid my $4.75 in tolls and happily drove to the parking lot of McDonald’s where the dogs would be handed off to me.

I noticed a couple sitting in their van. They seemed to be checking me out, so I parked one space over and asked the woman if they were the Hursts. She excused herself to the person she was speaking with on her cell phone, and told me they were not, but they were waiting for a dog too. She went back to her phone conversation.

When she hung up, she came over to my car. Her name was Patti, and she was driving transport for a different rescue group. They were waiting for a long-haired Chihuahua to arrive. When I told her I was part of the Jen Daley rescue group, she stated that everyone knew Jen Daley. She also said that thousands of these dog transports occur across the country every day.

If that’s the case, then why, when I’ve told people I was going to transport drive for the first time, did everyone – and I mean everyone – say they had never heard of such a thing? Just shows that as big as “thousands across the country” sounds, it’s still not big enough.

Patti and I had a nice chat. When I confessed this was my first transport, she told me it was fun and I’d be fine, that most of the dogs are friendly. She said she and her husband transport dogs just about every weekend for various rescue groups. She gave me her e-mail address so I can get more information about other groups.

I, of course, can’t drive all the time. With a full-time job, I’m only available on weekends and I definitely want to keep a balance to my life. I have mundane things, like going to the grocery store and laundry to do. And I do enjoy an occasional social outing with friends. But I’ll do the absolute best I can for the dogs!

The couple driving three dogs, Ally, Hobie and Serria, to meet me, called to say they were 15 minutes away. My heart beat faster. Would it go well? Would the dogs be comfortable with me? What if one got of its leash?

Patti’s dog arrived and they packed her into their van in no time and drove off with a friendly wave.

Shortly afterwards, the Hursts arrived. Little Ally, a 12-pound miniature dachshund, sat on Sue’s lap, looking around brightly. She was cute as a button!

Sue and Don let the other two dogs out of their vehicle, and I took Serria, a 45-pound Australian cattle dog mixture. They informed me Serria hadn’t gone potty before riding their leg of the transport, so it was important that she do so – especially since she’d lapped up lots of water.

They handed Hobie over to me too, and we went to the grassy area nearby. Despite my encouraging words, Serria had no inclination to pee. But she sure wanted to sniff around a nearby, low-hanging tree that I couldn’t possibly crawl under. Somehow, I won that battle and got her headed in another direction, but still no pottying occurred. More walking, more encouragement, and nothing. But Hobie and Ally obliged by providing nice piles of poop.

Stupid me – I had not thought about taking plastic bags to pick up after these special gifts. Fortunately, the Hursts, who have been transporting for over a year, knew all the ropes and had come prepared. So Sue went about the business of cleaning up their business.

We finally gave up on Serria. After all, how long could we hang out on the grassy knoll behind McDonald’s with three dogs and not bring attention to ourselves? So we em"barked" on getting the dogs into the three crates I had prepared for them. Newspaper on the floors, Milkbones and doggie toys welcomed them into the carriers. Ally went into hers on the front seat, no problem.

Hobie put up a bit of a fuss, but finally went in. Serria, however, resisted. Don and I had to push her in, but then we all decided the crate was too small for her to be comfortable, so it would be better to tether her to the headrest and let her sit on the back seat. Fine idea, but Serria then wouldn’t come out of the crate! After a few gentle tugs, and a coax with Milkbones, she finally emerged.

Then there was the problem of collapsing the crate. I had no idea how to do it, and the Hursts had never seen one like the one I had. So while I walked Serria again, to a no-peeing result, Don figured out the crate and stowed it in the trunk of my car. Then we had to lift Serria onto the back seat and get her leash tethered. No easy fete. Once in, she wanted to exit via the window, which was down. So while Don held her, I jumped into the car, started the engine and slowly raised the window as Don nudged her head inside. Finally, all were safe and sound inside the car.

The Hursts (God bless ‘em) handed over the dogs’ paperwork, and I bid them farewell. We were off on the last leg of the trip, to the dogs' final destination where their foster parents awaited. It sounded almost too easy.

This is where the ear plugs came in. We hadn’t gone 20 yards when Hobie, the 4-month old black lab, started to bark, howl and cry. All in my right ear. You don’t realize how loud a 35-pound puppy can bark until he’s in the back seat of your small car, and stating his opinion about things very clearly. He did not like the crate, and certainly had zero interest in treats or dog toys. So he told me all about it. For about 30 minutes straight.

I tried everything to calm him. I spoke soothingly, I turned up the A/C, I lowered the music to a barely audible level, I put my hand back to stroke him only to realize the holes in his crate were too small for even my fingers to get through. I tried singing to him. Big mistake. It only made him howl louder. I guess he didn’t appreciate my melodious voice.

But I continued on my mission, making a mental note that I must buy ear plugs before my next transport.

Hobie finally settled down, as Ally and Serria had immediately done once we started out. Ah, at last, I thought, as I listened to the ringing in my ears.

Silence didn’t suit Hobie though, and he still had plenty to say. So he continued to voice his opinion intermittently for the rest of our journey.

Upon arrival at Animal Lifeline Thrift Shop in Warrington, I parked and immediately released Hobie from his crate. He was one happy puppy! Someone from the store came out to meet us and I handed him and Serria over to her. I then got Ally, who had curled up into a little ball in her carrier. She jumped right out of the car once I had her leash on her.

None of the dogs wanted to go into the store building. Perhaps they thought it was another dog shelter where they’d be caged and possibly be put to death after all. But Denise, who runs the store and oversees the drop-offs and coordinates the foster parents for the arriving dogs, came out to greet us and managed to get all three to the back of the store to await their foster families.
And that was the last I saw of the dogs. They were whisked away. I never even got to say goodbye. I decided it was probably better for me that way; otherwise, I probably would have cried over them. Especially over little Ally. I so wanted to scoop her up and take her home with me. But that wouldn’t be fair to her, as I’m gone nearly 11 hours on most work days. Denise assured me she’d be adopted within days.

Hobie has a bright future too, I’m sure. The woman who owns the Curves I go to has some interest in adopting him already, and being a Labrador puppy, even if that doesn’t work out, he’ll find a home easily enough.

The future for Serria may not be quite so bright, as she is an adult and has already had a litter of pups. She is not well leash-trained or as lovable as the other two. But at least I know she’s going to a foster home. It will just be a matter of time before the right person comes along for her. She just may have to wait a little longer.

All three dogs appeared to be healthy and were certainly friendly, enough so that you can kiss the tops of their heads. So no behavioral issues. They came with health certificates, and I know little Ally has been spayed.

All in all, the Underdog Railroad, as I’ve dubbed the transport service, was a delight for me personally, and rewarding. I look forward to the next transport run, as knowing these dogs are being saved from certain death in Kentucky and West Virginia makes everything worthwhile.

I’ll say goodbye for now. I must run to Target. I hear they have ear plugs on sale.