Rosalind - And The Bigger Picture

I was so excited to get the opportunity to do another transport so soon. Yesterday, March 10th, my friend and coworker, Linda, and I drove to Allentown to await the arrival of Rosalind, a one-year old black labrador retriever mix. This run seemed different to me, as the information indicated a truckload of dogs coming from Kentucky would make several stops along the way.

Linda and I arrived early and soon probably a dozen or more cars started to arrive, with drivers anxious to get their charges and take them to their final destinations – animal sanctuaries, dog rescue groups, foster homes, or best of all, their forever homes.

When the truck arrived, a sign on the back indicated the vehicle had transported 3000+ dogs. The door swung open and a cacophony of barking greeted us. There were cages and cages of dogs within. The driver dropped a cardboard box on the ground near the steps, and the transport drivers moved forward to pull the envelope that had the records of their particular dog(s). Many drivers were picking up several dogs, so we hung back to let them get their group together. Finally, I looked through the box for Rosalind's paperwork, but couldn't find it.

In the meantime, dogs were starting to be offloaded from the truck. Some were puppies, and there were even a few cats. All were excited to be outside, and many were anxious to get to the grassy area. In general, it was pandemonium. But a good pandemonium, as these dogs were on the last legs of their various journeys.

I gave Rosalind's cage number and showed the truck driver her picture, so we'd be sure to get the right dog. Soon Rosalind was bounding down the steps. I was concerned about her paperwork, but getting to the grassy area was a higher priority at that particular moment - especially for Rosalind. Water was next. Rosalind drank voraciously. When she finally took a break, Linda brought over another dog, Elroy (seen right here), as he had already drunk his bowl dry. These dogs had been on the road a very long time.

Afterwards, we headed back to the grass and my cell phone rang. It turned out to be a fellow Almost Home group member, who told me her husband, Dennis, had Rosalind's paperwork. It turned out Dennis was the one driving Elroy. So we straightened out that little mix-up, and finally loaded Rosalind into the car, with Linda accompanying her in the back seat.

Rosalind wasn't sure where or how she wanted to sit, so she tried several different positions. At one point, she simply stood on Linda and put her chin on top of the headrest of the passenger seat. Well, it is a headrest after all. Rosalind looked out the window, tried to get comfy in Linda's lap, and finally settled down for at least 30 seconds. Linda cooed at her, assuring her she was safe and that better days were ahead.

We arrived at our drop-off point a few minutes late, but we managed to take this great picture of Linda and Rosalind, before Rosalind joined her foster mother, Ronnie (short for Veronica) on her final drive home. I don't think it was my imagination -- I swear Rosalind was smiling as Ronnie drove her away. Ronnie promises to let me know how things go for Rosalind. But I'm quite sure that she'll be adopted in no time. She's a beautiful, friendly dog who will be a wonderful family pet, so I'm sure she'll keep smiling.

As a footnote, this transport was a real eye-opener. There must have been 50 dogs on that truck. Thank goodness for groups of committed animal lovers, dedicated to rescuing huge numbers of dogs from fates of living on the street, ill-treatment, neglect or doom. The organization involved, and that everyone involved shows up at their appointed time, is awesome. Most of us have never met one another, nor will we see each other again. But it just shows how compassionate people can work together for a common good. And I'm so happy to be a small part of it.

Noah Without an Ark

Easy-peasy is how I describe my latest dog transport - thankfully, since this is my first since I fell and ended up with a concussion, from which I've now fully recovered. Carol and I, wearing our sneakers this time (see them on my feet in the picture!), drove to Allentown last Sunday, February 26th, to pick up Noah, a two-year old beagle mix. Dogs did not come "two by two", but rather Noah came alone. But we were not disappointed, as little Noah was adorable!

The first order of business was a short walk to give Noah the opportunity to do his business. He put his nose to the grindstone, as most hound-type dogs do, and got busy sniffing for who knows what. He defintely had passion and determination for his task.

After no success with the business end of things on Noah's part, we encouraged him into the car, and he happily obliged. As like so many before him, he thought he would ride shotgun.

Soon, however, he realized he'd have much less responsibility if he relinquished shotgun to Carol, and moved to the backseat where he could have more room, and could check out where he had just been.

Noah finally grew weary from wagging...er...waving at the people in the cars behind us, and settled down for a little snooze, glad he'd chosen the backseat. He was content from all the ear rubs he'd received earlier, and seemed to know that he was going somewhere that would be a better life for him. Of course, almost anywhere was better than living on the streets, where'd they'd found him, and anything was better than wondering if anyone would appreciate him again. He hoped he'd get a better name than Noah too! It had been given to him by the shelter people who had rescued him. They didn't know him from Adam, after all.

As Noah dozed, his head danced with visions of living with a nice family who would feed him, give him plenty of clean water, and maybe even let him sleep on a soft dog bed. Could that possibly in his future? Dare he hope? Maybe he'd even have his own backyard, and be taken for walks so he could sniff out the clues to all his fellow dog neighbors. How heavenly would that be? Please let it be true!

As we approached the parking lot where we'd hand him over to his foster parents, Noah seemed to know, perked up and came forward to see what he could see for himself. Would this be it? Would this be his last car ride of his transport to safety? He sure hoped so. He just knew that if he was given a chance, he'd make a great family pet. After all, he has such depth of personality, and so much love and sloppy kisses to give. And he's so sure he will train his family to give him the best ear massages.

So, our ride with Noah came to an end, as we handed him over to his foster parents. But the best news of all is that his fosters told us they already had three -- yes three -- applications to adopt him! So little Noah's future is very bright indeed.

Bing, Bang, Boom

Finally -- another dog transport to write about! My computer crashed in late November, and I finally got it replaced, but it's been slow-going -- in more ways than one. Anyway, on to the dogs!

The first bit of great news is that adorable Kelly, the houndog from my last post, was adopted within three weeks by a new family, and is living happily ever after. A perfect ending!

The ending of my current transport story is an unusual one, but we'll get to that. First, meet Casey and Allie. Casey is a sweet-tempered lab mix, and Allie is a rambunctious, but lovable short-haired something-er-other. We met them in the parking lot, where a guy named Steve had brought them. So far so good.

It was a brisk, windy day, and as usual, my friend Carol had accompanied me. We attended an event earlier that day, for which we had worn dressier clothing, not our usual jeans and sneakers. Before we took delivery of the dogs, Steve had several stories to tell us about his transporting experiences. Somehow, I think our day together will be added to his repetoire.

Anyway, he was an interesting, talkative individual, but I started to get cold, so suggested we get on our way. Allie, you will see, wasn't bothered one iota by the cold as she enjoyed her stomach rubs, no matter what!

Steve handed Allie over to Carol, and I took Casey and headed for the trunk of my car to get my leashes. I noticed Allie was yanking on Carol a lot, and I worried if she'd be able to handle that energetic dog. Boy, was I barking up the wrong tree! Next thing I knew, Casey had wrapped his leash around me -- twice -- and had gotten behind me, and simply started walking. Doesn't sound so bad, right? Well, I was trapped by his leash, and before I could bark three times, I was desperately struggling to stay upright. But I was wearing clogs, of all things! And I just couldn't balance myself, and although I put up a hell of a fight, I fell backwards and whacked the back of my head on the pavement. Splat -- or at least that's how it felt to me!

Good ol' Steve raced to my side. Although I thought for sure my head would be bleeding, he checked, and no blood. He then began asking me questions, checking my pupils and color, and announced he thought I'd be okay, but encouraged me to take my sweet old time sitting up. He stayed by my side, made sure I knew who I was and what day it was, while he told me he used to race motorcycles. He'd seen many, many crashes and had experience with injuries in his day. This comforted me as my confidence grew that I might actually survive my crash.

Slowly, but surely, I sat up and finally rose to my feet. Shaky, but up. And cold. Very very cold. All I wanted to do was get inside the car with the dogs, so I could get warmer, and start our hour-long drive. A few minutes later, with me behind the wheel as usual, we were off.

And guess what! At our final destination, Allie's forever family was there to meet her and take her home! That's the first time I've delivered a dog to its family, so I felt elated. They surprised their little boy by waiting to tell him until Allie actually arrived. He was so happy and grinned from ear-to-ear. So did Allie. It was so worth it!

And dear Casey went with Carolyn to be fostered, until he went to his forever home a few weeks later. Yay!

It was not Casey's fault that this happened. I learned a "hard" lesson. Always, always, always wear sneakers! And be more attentive so you don't get wrapped up in a leash. And, although I didn't do the smartest thing the day of my fall, I did see my doctor that Monday, and he sent me for a CT scan, which came back normal. But because I was still experiencing dizziness, he also sent me to a neurologist, who told me that only time and rest will help heal my minor concussion. She was right about that, as I still experience dizziness (well, more dizziness than usual anyway), but I am sure it will eventually disappear. And I'll be up to my old dog tricks as usual. So, look out transport dogs! Here I come!

Kelly, The Hound of Lickersville

Is this a beautiful dog, or what? Kelly, a most wonderful hound-mix, was my latest rescue transport. This picture speaks volumes about her.

Yesterday, my friend, Carol, and I traveled to a little town called Bethel, about one hour and 45 minutes away, to meet Kelly behind the Midway Diner -- which was a step back in time. Way back. But that's another story for another time. After all, underdograilroad is about dog transports, not diners.

Kelly, without a doubt, was the quietest of the ten dogs who arrived by three separate cars from Ohio. We were given an excited barking concert when the other nine dogs realized they were about to be released from their taxis for a little walk and drinkie-poo before being loaded into a large van destined for a safe-harbor shelter in Connecticut. Our little Kelly, however, was coming with us as she had a foster family to welcome her in Trooper, PA.

Kelly seemed genuinely happy to meet me and Carol. As you may have guessed, she was very generous with her "lickerville" kisses, and here I am graciously accepting one. The barking symphony continued, while Kelly remained quiet. Carol spent some time admiring the handsomeness and beauty of the other dogs, while I watered and walked Kelly. I was already in love by then.

Finally, we loaded her into the back seat of my car, and we were off. As has happened so many times on previous transports, Kelly wanted to sit in front with us. She was a strong little devil, so after traveling only a mile or two down Route 78, we took an offramp, pulled into a gas station, and transferred Carol into the back seat. I didn't have a towel for Carol to lay on, so she had to share Kelly's. But no one seemed to mind. Kelly settled down then, content to no longer be the only one relegated to the back seat. The rest of the ride was uneventful.

Kelly's foster father, Brian, was at the appointed spot to meet us, and Kelly took to him right away. Perhaps she understood she would stay with him and his family for a little while, until she found her forever home. Brian told us that he has fostered 31 dogs over the last two years. That makes Brian pretty darn special in my book. That equals more than one foster dog per month. He spoke about how his family and several neighbors look forward to the arrival of each foster dog, and that his fosters always meet the other dogs in the neighborhood. I'm confident that Kelly will enjoy her temporary life with Brian and his family. Brian works from home, so he's able to spend a lot of time with each dog in his care. So hip, hip hooray for Brian! Now, there's a hero!

So, another successful transport. Brian promises he'll send me an update on Kelly. She is totally adoptable, a real people pleaser who loves anyone and everyone. You may check her out at: http://www.petfinder.com/petdetails/20821987.

I'm home today, nursing my lonely heart, since I loved and lost so quickly. But Kelly is the best, and I just know she'll find her forever home real soon. Or who knows? Maybe she'll even end up with Brian forever. You never can tell.

Ready, Aim, Fire?

Scouter, Scouter, Scouter. What can I say about Scouter? So many wonderful things -- he's unique, hopeful, smart and gentle.

After commiting to transporting my previous charge, Rocky The Raucous, I was tapped for a transport the very next day for my usual transporting group, headed by Jen Daley. So, on Sunday, March 6th, I set off without Carol this time, to meet Jen in Morgantown, where I was to pick up Scouter, whom Jen had personally saved from a dreadful fate in West Virginia.


Jen had warned me that Scouter was a bit smelly from being in the kennel for so long, but that he was fairly well-behaved in the car and spent much of his time with his face right in yours. It was then I learned his breath wasn't so great either. When they arrived, Jen took Scouter for a little walk. He headed straight for a pole, lifted his leg appropriately, and peed. All was well -- until he took a few more steps and lifted his leg again, ready, aim, fire -- onto Jen's leg! At that very moment, I wondered if Jen was so happy about personally rescuing Scouter from WV! She called him a "toad" and rinsed her jeans leg off with water from his water bowl I'd set down. You just never know what you're going to get from these poor dogs, who have been neglected and have gone without training most of their lives. But Jen seemed to take this mostly in stride, and soon Scouter was sitting in the passenger seat of my car, ready to see the sights. Perhaps he got his temporary name of Scouter because he was intent on scouting out the scenery.

Although Scouter never really settled down during our ride, he seemed curious about everything that either we sped past, or that whizzed by us (pardon my reference to "whiz"). I got the feeling that a lot of what he saw during our hour-long ride was brand new to him. He sat or stood on the seat the entire time. He either looked out the windshield, out the door window, at the back of the seat (go figure), or at me. He seemed especially interested in the trucks that roared past us.

When we reached our destination at Animal Lifeline, Laura from the rescue group who was taking Scouter in, was there to meet us. I could tell she loves dogs. She embraced him immediately, so I quickly warned her of Scouter's faux paus committed against Jen earlier. It didn't faze Laura, and we agreed that Scouter would probably learn better manners quickly, and would make someone a great pet. I think perhaps a better name for him would have been "Shooter", but hopefully whoever his new owner is will never know about this little episode, and will name him Spot, or Fido or Fred.

Rocky, The Raucous

They said Rocky was a "counter-surfer" when it came to food. A gross understatement, I'm sure. A "counter-marauder" is a more apt nomenclature. But what a sweetheart too, as I learned on Saturday, March 5th, when Carol and I traveled to Allentown, PA, to pick up Rocky, The Raucous. He was listed as a "Puggles" breed. Definitely part pug, but what the "gles" stands for, I have no clue. From Allentown, we were to take Rocky to the capitol of Pennsylvania, Harrisburg, which is about in the middle of this rather humongous state. The total round trip would be almost 300 miles. But I was anxious to do another transport, and none had come my way yet from my usual transport group.

Rocky was given up by his owners after four years, as they are expecting a baby, and with Rocky's avaricious appetite and lack of manners when it comes to food, they felt he was too much to handle with a new baby on its way. What a bunch of hooey! If they had only taken the time to train him, he'd be the model of a big furry brother to the new baby, but that's just my humble opinion. It's obvious they made lots of mistakes, as Rocky is a little porker. But a very lovable one! Could you possibly pass up a face like this one?

Rocky seemed overjoyed to see both Carol and me. He treated us like we were long, lost friends. He gave us the pleasure of petting him, and shyness was not in his repetoire. He came with his own bag of food, which had to be kept in the trunk of the car, but as we transferred the bag into my car, he took giant leaps to try to get into the trunk. For an overweight dog, he had some pretty good moves. He finally settled for a drink of water, a brief walk, he did his thing, and we transferred over all his belongings. He jumped right into the backseat of my car, trusting soul that he is, and we were off.

Next thing we knew, Rocky The Raucous was sound asleep in the backseat. Surprisingly, he didn't snore. And he didn't move a muscle for the next hour and a half, until we pulled into the Burger King parking lot to meet his next transport drivers -- whom he greeted as though they were long, lost friends. He gave them the pleasure of petting him. (And Carol and I thought he only had eyes for us!) After drinking some water, taking a brief walk, doing his thing, trying to jump up into the back of their vehicle for his newly transferred bag of food, he jumped into the front seat, trusting soul that he is, and smiled for my camera -- and was off on his next leg of his trip, heading for Ohio. Rocky is such a lovable character, and with a little training and a proper diet, he'll soon be known as Rocky The Wonderful.

That Rascally Rascal

On Saturday, September 18th, a puppy named Rascal, who was described as "ugly" needed a ride to his foster mom, Kelly. But Rascal wasn't ugly at all! A bit gangly, but certainly not ugly. He just didn't know what to do on a leash. Well, and he lacked manners. But he was friendly and enjoyed being petted. At one point, he flopped over, belly up, for a nice tummy rub. I thought he was adorable with his floppy ears.

I was told it would be best to crate him, so I set up my crate with newspaper on the bottom, in case of an "accident". As usual, I put a couple milkbones and a toy in the crate. As we pulled out of McDonald's lot, there was a lot of rustling going on in the backseat, as Rascal decided to bury his milkbones and toy. He kept himself quite busy with that for several minutes, then settled down and remained unimpressed by most everything for the rest of the ride. He didn't even make goo-goo eyes at Carol.

Carol and I almost forgot we had him in the back seat as we chatted the entire way to a shopping center, where Kelly was waiting with open arms -- and with her "mama" dog, Sophie (at right), who she knew for sure would teach Rascal the ropes.

Kelly didn't like the name Rascal much, and I learned a couple days later that Rascal became Kanye, which is Hawaiian for "free".

Since then, Kelly reports that he sat on her lap on the short ride back to her place, and it took Kanye less than an hour for him to sincerely trust her. He fell asleep on his back cuddling with her, and he's totally cool with her kitties and Sophie. He's a lap dog all the way and has done absolutely great already! And, he's adorable!

Who can pass up such a cute face anyway?