It was a spring day in 2008 when I decided to stop by my local animal shelter. I don’t know why I allowed myself to do so, but I did.
I’m an animal lover, I always have been. I remember crying as a young child when my dad would watch the discovery channel and I would happen to walk in the room and see a lion hunting a zebra, or something of that sort. It’s a hard love to deal with, the love of animals, but it’s the purest form of love I’ve ever known.
During my walk around the shelter’s corridors, I saw the usual; some dogs hiding, some dogs barking, but all in all, it was an unsettling feeling of fear that was peering back at me through countless pairs of puppy eyes.
After a few laps around the shelter, I realized I had missed the medical unit of the shelter-a small room in which the sick animals are kept so that they can be treated for their medical issues while leaving the rest of the shelter animals unexposed to whatever illness they might be dealing with. I walked in, guarding my heart, and what I saw next I will never forget. Sitting before me was an 8 week old black and white pit bull puppy with mutilated ears. They were bleeding. Bloody. Scabs were forming on two little nubs on top of the puppy’s head. I felt a lump rise in my throat, but by some act of God, I was able to hold back the tears that were welling up in my eyes. I took a few steps closer to the small cage she was being kept in, and she leaned forward and licked my finger.
Puppy kisses, there’s nothing like them. I was immediately in love. No love has ever been so instant, so unreal and so unconditional for me.
A few minutes later, after simply staring at the sweet puppy and enjoying her nibbles and kisses, two men joined us in the medical unit. They nod “hello” to me, and I smile back. They speak to each other in Spanish, not knowing or caring that I can understand. I start to get angry, as they are mentioning many features of the puppy that would make a good mother for a litter of puppies: her white chest, her large head, her petite frame…
WHAT? This is a puppy who has gone through extreme abuse in her life, and all these people can think about is breeding her and making money off of her puppies? NO, I won’t let it happen.
They turn to me and ask me if I’m going to adopt her, and I respond with the first thing that came out of my lips…”They’ll never let you take an animal out of the shelter doors without it being spayed or neutered.”
“Seriously?” one responded.
“Yes, those are the rules of animal shelters.” I respond, clearly irritated.
“Not even under special circumstances?” the other chimes in.
“I don’t really think breeding is considered a special circumstance, sir.”
They both looked at me, shocked.
“I’m not trying to be rude, but I do feel the need to point out that the reason why we have such a large pet overpopulation in our society is because of people who breed their animals. The reason why this very place exists is because of people who breed animals and then dump them on the side of the road, or beat, torture and mutilate them, like this puppy.” Wow, I was surprised I said it, but glad I did, nonetheless.
And then to follow, “Yes, I’m going to adopt her.”
The two men looked at me, looked at each other, and then politely said, “Have a good day” and walked out of the medical unit.
Next I was joined by a shelter worker. She explained the puppy’s past, that someone had dropped her off, saying they found her. She was being treated with antibiotics for her wounds, and was having her ears cleaned twice a day to prevent infection. Poor, poor girl. I could only imagine the pain she was in. The worker then told me that she was doing much better than she had been a week ago, and she was going to be eligible for adoption the next day.
I raced to the front desk, filled out the necessary paperwork for the puppy, and promised her that I would return at 9am the next morning to get her.
I didn’t sleep all night. Her sweet little face was all that I could think of. Was I making the right decision? This was 2 weeks before I graduated from college…could I handle this responsibility? When I woke up in the morning still thinking about the puppy, I decided to live by the motto of “what’s meant to be is meant to be.” I got ready and headed back to the shelter.
When I arrived, I found myself standing behind a couple who told me they were here to see a “sweet little white and black pit bull puppy.” My heart immediately started racing, as I knew this was MY puppy. We talked for awhile about the dogs we’ve had, the dogs that have stolen our hearts, and our shared love for animals. They were fairly decent people, I couldn’t be upset with them. A longer line started to grow behind us, and I grew more anxious.
As promised, at 9am, the shelter workers opened the doors. The first couple stated that they were there to adopt the puppy. The worker asked if anyone else in line was interested in the same dog, and I walked to the front to join the couple.
We were then told that a drawing was going to be held to see who would get first rights for the puppy. The next sentence made my heart fall into my stomach.
“Each individual that is here can put their name in. So sir and ma’am, you can each put your name in.” Explained the worker.
I wanted to yell “that’s not fair!” but instead decided to continue with my quote of the day, “what’s meant to be is meant to be.”
The 3 of us put our names in a hat and waited for the worker to pull the lucky winner. These few seconds felt like they lasted hours until…
“Marnae? Marnee? Marnee?”
“Marnae, yes that’s me.” I responded in shock.
SHE CALLED MY NAME.
I had a 33% chance of getting this puppy, and I got her…is this right? Am I dreaming? No.
We quickly walked to the medical unit to play with the puppy, and the woman began another conversation with me. She explained that she just wanted to see the puppy have a good life, and I could contact her if I needed anything, anything at all. She handed me a notecard with her name, email address and phone number on it. I could sense her sincerity, and gave her my name and email.
On Monday morning I checked my email to find an email titled, “Pit Bull puppy pulled from Camarillo shelter.” How did anyone know I adopted a puppy that weekend? I opened the email, not knowing what I was going to read would change my life forever.
It was an email from Rande Levine, President of Karma Rescue in Santa Monica, California. She thanked me for adopting the Pit Bull puppy that weekend, and explained that she had 2 volunteers at the shelter to rescue the puppy if a suitable adopter did not arrive first.
“Wow” was all I could think. It all made sense now.
The email went on to say that because I adopted my puppy, Karma Rescue was able to save another dog that weekend. Rande gave me a brief description of the dog, Chuck, and attached a picture. I was floored by the email, and was immediately sucked in.
I responded to Rande, telling her that I had named the puppy Chloe, and that I was so excited to receive her email. Rande wrote back, thanking Chloe for saving Chuck, and said she would love to meet me.
This was when my love for rescue started.
I had always had rescued animals in my lifetime, in fact, I had rescued 2 litters of kittens when I was younger, but I was never put in a position where I was surrounded by people who had the same passion that I did…until I started at Karma.
I have been involved with Karma Rescue for almost 2 years now, thanks to my sweet Chloe. I have learned so much about the world of rescue, training, adoption, etc, because of Karma. I truly feel like I am a better person because of the time I have spent, and continue to spend, volunteering with Karma.
Chloe is almost 2 years old, and continues to be the center of my life. Everywhere we go, Chloe stuns people with her beauty and friendliness. She has never met a man, woman, child, dog, or even cat that she hasn’t LOVED. I am extremely proud of her because she is truly an ambassador for her breed; she has taught many people to not prejudge Pit Bulls, and I can honestly say to know Chloe is to love Chloe.
Everyday I wake up and am immediately reminded why I start the day, why I love my life, and why I love rescue. Chloe. When I go to bed at night, I promise myself to stick to the motto I clung onto.
What’s meant to be is meant to be.
beautiful story Marnae and Randi!!!! xoxo to you both