Everybody Deserves A Name . . .
August, 2005
On July 6, Randy read
about three abandoned puppies in the local paper. They had been
thrown away on a lonely stretch of road known as "Bruin Hill." I
called and spoke with the daughter of Dixie Lee Holbrook (the author of
the article in the paper) to get more information and directions to the
location. I was informed that Ms. Holbrook (who is in her 90s) had
fallen and broken her hip and was currently in the hospital. Her
daughter said Ms. Holbrook was worried sick about the puppies, and would
be relieved to know The Trixie Foundation was going to attempt a rescue.
On
July 7, I made my first trip to Bruin Hill. All three puppies were
sitting there beneath the trees, two males and one female. Someone
had put out food and water and had attempted to build a small shelter
from a tarp for the puppies. One of the males immediately came
over to me and I picked him up and placed him in the car. The
other two were too frightened for me to get close enough to pick them up
and went down a deep ravine where I was unable to follow safely. I
returned to the sanctuary with the little male who we named Lomar (in
memory of Randy's dog "Logan" who had just died). We then decided
on the next step in rescuing the other two puppies.
I
returned the next day with Paul (another Trixie employee) along as
backup with food and a liquid tranquilizer so we could sedate the
puppies and catch them. They gobbled down the food and medication
and crossed the road to lie down on a ledge up on the hillside.
After about 15 minutes, Paul crawled up the hill and positioned himself
about 10 feet from the dogs. The little female was a bit drunk and
happy by then. She wobbled over to Paul and he picked her up.
We placed her in the car and Paul crawled up the hill again. The
male appeared to be sleeping as Paul slowly, slowly inched his way
toward him. Just as he came within a few feet the puppy leapt up
and dashed away! He ran 10 to 15 feet and lay down again.
Paul sat down, so as not to frighten him, and every minute or so would
move 3 to 4 inches closer (Paul has the patience of Job!). The
puppy would lie there, apparently asleep, until Paul would get within
reaching distance and then he would leap up and take off again. We
tried for 2 hours to catch him. Paul followed him up and down the
hill, down into the ravine and over, under and through a barbed wire
fence. We finally had to give up the rescue attempt for the day.
As much as I hated to do it, we turned the female loose so the male
would not be left there all alone. We were afraid he would go
looking for her and get hit by a car if we left him alone.
This
was one of many trips to Bruin Hill. We would go at least once
daily. Sometimes as often as three times daily. We did this
daily for three weeks. The puppies began to recognize the "Trixiemobile"
and the female would come running up to us before we even got the door
open and would let me pick her up and put her in the car (I always fed
her and loved her a little before putting her in the crate each time).
That left the little male. Every day we would feed him a bit of
food with a dose of tranquilizer in it. Every day the tranquilizer
had no effect on him, even though we increased the dosage each time.
We tried the live trap and the catch pole. These only frightened
him more. Every day we had to turn the female loose and return to
the sanctuary without either dog. This was heartbreaking for me as
I was so afraid the female would be killed by a car in between visits
when we could have saved her.
Randy
sent me to Ashland to buy a casting net. We hoped to be able to
throw the net over him to slow him down. No such luck . . . he was
just too fast. After being fed so many doses of tranquilizer, Paul
and I decided we would probably need to send him to The Betty Ford
Clinic for drug rehab when we finally caught him. After the first
two weeks of daily visits to Bruin Hill, people started to stop and talk
to us about the dogs. One Sunday, an elderly couple stopped by
with a bag of dog food. The gentleman was the one who had built
the small shelter out of a tarp for the puppies. They told us
there were originally four puppies and that they had managed to catch
one of them (a little male) and had taken it home where it was currently
being spoiled and pampered. Another man stopped by to check our
progress and told us he had been brining a bag of dog food weekly and
leaving it by the shelter. One gentleman came by one weekday
evening while we were there. He had been brining a pound of
bologna every evening for the puppies' supper. None of these nice
people had been able to catch the dogs, but all were concerned about
their welfare. They were all relieved to know The Trixie
Foundation was going to come regularly until the puppies were rescued
and that they would be brought to the sanctuary Eden where they
would be safe.
Out of
desperation to rescue the puppies, Randy ordered a blow gun so we could
shoot a dose of tranquilizer directly into a muscle to make the little
male puppy sleepy enough for us to catch him (between salaries, gas for
the car, food, tranquilizers, the net and the blow gun, this had become
an extremely expensive rescue mission . . . not to mention parvo and
rabies shots, worming medication and the cost of spaying and neutering
when finally caught!) The blow gun finally arrived and Paul spent
an afternoon practicing with it. We also had a new tranquilizer
(usually used as a precursor for anesthesia) in our arsenal.
We set
off for Bruin Hill with high hopes. When we arrived the female
again came to me and I put her in the car. Nathan (from Lexington,
Kentucky, who was volunteering for the day) was along for the ride and
to help in the rescue. We were able to corner the male long enough
for Paul to use the blow gun. He scored a bull's eye with the
tranquilizer dart (holding the maximum dosage possible). The puppy
went over to the trees and lay down. We were elated! We
waited for him to get sleepy . . . and waited, and waited, and waited.
We may as well have given him a shot of water. The medication had
absolutely no effect. As soon as we got close, he was off and
running. I once again turned the female loose.
On
July 24 (after not going for 2 days due to rain) when we arrived at
Bruin Hill, an older couple were there feeding bread to a newly
abandoned dog. We had the gentleman pick her up and we placed her
in the car. They had not seen the other two puppies. The man
who had brought the bologna daily stopped by and said someone had
abandoned a 5 to 6 week old puppy just a few days before and that he had
taken it home with him. The beagle we had just rescued was
probably its mother. He said he had not seen the other two puppies
in several days and thought we had finally been successful in our rescue
attempts. We whistled and called. We searched the hillside
and the ravine. We also drove up and down the road, attempting to
spot them (or their bodies on the side of the road). No puppies.
I was devastated. I just knew that had been killed. We
returned to the sanctuary with the rescued beagle, whom we named
Natalie.
Later
that day, we decided to go back and look again. No puppies.
I walked along the road and whistled and called. Paul heard a
familiar bark off in the distance. I looked down the road and the
little female was running to me as fast as she could and barking . . .
as if she were calling out, "Wait, don't leave without me!" I
picked her up and cuddled her. I don't know which of us was more
thrilled. We couldn't find the male, but decided not to risk
leaving the female again. She sat in my lap and helped me drive
back to the sanctuary. We named her Dixie Lee, after the lady who
had written the newspaper article about them. Too, I'm happy to
report Ms. Holbrook is now home from the hospital and doing well (I
spoke with her and notified her of her namesake here at the sanctuary).
Dixie Lee and Lomar were delighted to be reunited and are now playing
together at Eden. Lomar, Dixie Lee, and Natalie are safe
and will remain here together at The Trixie Foundation until they die of
old age, at which time they will be placed in our dog cemetery (Randy
has also left instructions in his will to be buried there with all his
beloved dogs when the time comes). They will be fed and cared for,
and given shelter and medical care when needed. This is a much
brighter outlook than being hit by a car, starving, or being shot on the
side of the road where they were abandoned.
Unfortunately, this story doesn't have a completely happy ending.
We have searched daily for the remaining male puppy and have never
spotted him again. No one else has seen him either. I like
to think someone picked him up and he is lying on a nice soft couch
somewhere being spoiled rotten . . . we can only hope.
Our
story finally came to an end today, on Monday, August 1. This
morning, I made my daily trek to check on the remaining male puppy (as
he had finally returned to his "home on the side of the road") and
ensure he had enough food and water, in addition to attempting to catch
him again; I found him with no problem. He was lying in the ditch,
beside the road. His little body was bloody and lifeless. He
had been hit by a car, apparently just before my arrival as he was still
warm and bleeding. After all this time, I was finally able to hold
him in my arms and bring him back to the sanctuary. We all cried
as I washed the blood from his body and wrapped him in one of Muffin and
Posey's favorite blankets (my own dogs) for burial. Paul--who had
been with me so many times on our previous, unsuccessfule attempts--dug
his grave up on the hill in the cemetery. Space was left beside
him for his brother Lomar and his sisters Dixie Lee and Natalie so that
one day, they could all be together again. Paul Alvin then
somberly lowered his broken body into the ground, covered him and marked
his grave. The little dog that we had tried so hard to catch was
now finally home at The Trixie Foundation. We named him
Alvin . . .
--Debbie Carol
