NCRottieRescue

To help keep families and pets together through foreclosures and financial crisis, The Humane Society of the United States has created a new grant program for shelters and rescue groups.

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Doggie Boot Camp! - Exercise, discipline & affection all in one weekend! Want to attend NCRR's 2nd Doggie Bootcamp? Click below for more information on how you and your dog can both bond and work toward his Canine Good Citizenship certification. [more]

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MARINE CORPS BASE CAMP LEJEUNE, N.C. (March 14, 2008) -- Most people have positive intentions when they are forced to leave their pets at the local pound. Whether they are doing it because of a new baby coming into the family, a cycle of deployments or high medical bills, the majority are under the impression that their pet will be claimed and introduced to a new loving home. But that rarely happens. [more]

Please join us March 1 & 2 at the Greensboro Coliseum for the "Super Flea Sale" to benefit NCRR. No we won't be selling fleas, but will have various items to sell to raise money for our rescue so that we can pay for our numerous vet bills and boarding costs.

Also, several of our volunteers and their foster dogs will be there for you to meet & talk to. This is a great opportunity to learn more about NCRR and the wonderful dogs we have available.

We will be there on Sat from 9-5 and on Sun from 10-4. For more information or directions, please visit the Super Flea's website at: http://www.superflea.com/

We look forward to seeing you there!

A special thank you to those who made donations as part of the America's Giving Challenge sponsored by Parade magazine.


Malia Scarnato
Tessa & Tasha Scarnato

Mary Jane Velliquette
Buddah: My first rottie

Mary Jane Velliquette
Zeus: My second Rottie

Mary Jane Velliquette
Lilly my third rottie: Rescue

Janine Gray
This donation is from Grimm Gray, I adopted him from NCRR, and he is wonderful!

Patricia Reu
In Memory of Klyde

Michelle Widmann
in Memory of Cleopatra Widmann

FAITH STUART
On behalf of the stuart family, sasha and chippie.

Diane Sacripanti
In Memory of Storm

Jerry Overcash
Honorable mention for Barry Gough

Jesse Iversen
Anastasia Jones

Pamela Olive
This donation is for our dog, Heidi. Love Ken, Pam, Erika and Kira

john james
JUDD Just ugly damn dog

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by Sandy Clabaugh

The grey hair of an aging dog, spreading across the muzzle and over the eyebrows, is known as "frosting." And to me, there's nothing more wonderful than a frosted face with all the wisdom and experience it communicates and all the love it speaks of that is still there to give.

We understand the heartbreak that results when people are forced to put an older pet in a shelter. But regardless of the cause of the dog's being relinquished, our hearts melt for these senior citizens. We know they have earned security with age, not change. We also know it's likely that they will be waiting for a forever home much longer than the youngsters in the shelter, because many people are reluctant to adopt an older dog.

People give many reasons for not considering the older dogs available for adoption, but in fact, an older dog may be the perfect pet for you.

People say…"An older dog won't bond with me like a young one will." It's true that an older dog doesn't bond as a young one does; an older dog usually bonds with new guardians even more than a young dog. This statement is actually true—an older dog usually bonds with new guardians even more than a young dog. Animals who have experienced loss or a difficult past often display their desire to form new and stronger attachments. They have found someone to love them and they have no intention of letting go!

People say…"An older dog up for adoption must have problems, or it wouldn't need rescuing." The reality is that pets enter shelters and rescue societies for every imaginable reason. Often it's not the dog that has the problem, but the human. Many people get a dog because it seems like the thing to do, not because they truly appreciate the qualities—and needs—of the species. Others are forced to surrender their pets for personal reasons. There may be a problem with a particular dog, but you are much less likely to find a senior dog that isn't housebroken or a senior dog that snaps; older dogs have usually overcome any bad habits they had when they were young.

People say…"An older dog will have more medical bills." To some extent, this may be true, in that older dogs need more medical "supervision," such as geriatric testing during their annual exams. But there is no health guarantee for a dog of any age. One-year-old dogs can die of cancer. And puppies have larger immediate medical bills because of their need for vaccinations and spay/neuter surgery. And don't forget the bills for chewed shoes and shredded drapes!

People say… "We won't have much time to enjoy her." There are no more guarantees for our dogs than for our human loved ones. You never know how long a beloved pet, or person, will be with you. Love is what matters, no matter how long we might be able to share it.

So the next time you consider getting a "new" dog, don't pass those frosted faces by so quickly. You might be giving up the sweetest dog that has ever graced your home and your life.

I have worked for a kill shelter for three years now. Some of you may call me a "killer" while others say "I couldn't do your job". I will admit my job is difficult. People come in and drop their animals off everyday claiming they are moving or they do not want them or they are old and the owner can't bring themselves to take responsibility for their own animal. I don't go out looking for animals to euthanise, I have animals that have come from the shelter but I can't take them all. I am hoping to educate people not only about the job I do but how to all work together and stop the irresponsible pet owners that let their animals run wild, that neglect their animals, and those who drop them off at our door.

When I first started at Animal Control I had a love for Rottweilers having three of my own all rescued from the shelter. I quickly learned that no one wanted to adopt our rotties and I really didn't know what to do. I started e-mailing rescues and got no response until one day our shelter manager gave me Diane's name and told me she was the President of North Carolina Rottweiler Rescue. I was hesitant at first because I thought she would think I was nuts or be like some of the other rescues that wanted heart worm tests and vet checks before they would even consider my request. Well, to my surprise when I contacted Diane she only wanted to know the dogs temperament and how long she had to come and get him, I was amazed and she kept her word to me the Rottweiler some of you may know as Diesel lived. Three years later I am still working with Diane and NCRR and they are one of the most respected rescues at the shelter I work at. To date NCRR has saved at least 20 Rottweilers from my shelter alone not to mention a few other breeds when requested. NCRR has always kept their word, they have always found a way to help me find these dogs homes.

Rescues need to realize we want all the animals to find good, loving, and responsible homes but we at shelters are overwhelmed with the pet overpopulation and irresponsible pet owners. We also do not have a vet on staff so we don't have the means to diagnose or treat dogs that may have come in sick or injured. I ask all the rescues to help me and the rest of the Animal Control professionals don't work against us and call us "killers" to make yourselves look better, address the problem at hand and educate the public on responsible pet ownership, come to our shelters and rescue the animals. I understand that not enough people volunteer to help the rescues and believe me I am so grateful for all of those with NCRR that have stepped up to help and give these animals another chance. Can we all find a way to work together to save these animals and educate our communities to solve the pet overpopulation problem? Again I welcome any rescue that reads this to help me and other shelters out and step up to the plate if you don't know where to start or how to help your local shelter contact NCRR I can assure you from my experience with these wonderful men and women they can lead you in the right direction.

Finally I would like to thank NCRR and all the RESPONSIBLE rescues out there that have helped their local shelters and who have stood behind the shelters to help them save lives without people like you people like me would not be able to do our jobs. So to all those who have told an Animal Control worker " I couldn't do your job" you are right in a way because I couldn't either without Diane and NCRR!!

A special thanks to Jimmy at FastSigns and Vince at Sign-A-Rama for donating banners to NCRR for use at our adoption events!

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As a journalist, I decided to go to the dog pound, and interview some of the "inmates". I wanted to know what it was like in there from their perspective. What follows is not for the faint of heart.

I entered the building, and one of the workers accompanied me to the holding area. This is where dogs are kept before they are allowed up for adoption... IF they are allowed up for adoption. If the dogs are found to be aggressive in any way, euthanasia is employed. Fortunately, if "fortunately" is the word to be used here... this is a Canadian establishment, and they use lethal injection, not a gas chamber.

The pound worker led me past a big steel door that says "Employees Only". "What is in there?" I asked. From the look he gave me, I knew that this is where dogs go in, and never return. We moved on to a row of kennels. The dogs were barking loudly, there was the acrid smell of urine and feces, and a feeling of despair seemed to permeate the room. "Go ahead," the worker said. "They're all yours."

Pete
I looked into the first kennel, and saw only the back of a medium sized dog who was curled up in the corner of his kennel, shivering. He was mostly white, with some black spots. "Hello?" I said. "May I come in?" He lifted his head, as though it weighed more than he could bear. When he looked at me, I could see he was a Pitbull. His eyes were gentle, but filled with grief. "Enter," was all he said. I stepped in, closing the gate behind me. He put his head back down, facing away from me. I crouched down a few feet away.

"My name is Pete. Petey my Master called me," he said, still not looking at me. "Why are you here Pete?" I asked. "I am here because Master cannot afford to move to another province. I am here because someone with power said I am vicious, and a killer. Someone who never met me. Master took me for a walk one day, and some lady started to scream when she saw me. I got frightened, and barked at her. The dog police came, and they took me away. I have been with Master for 10 years. The last time I saw him, he just held me and cried. He kept telling me he was sorry. I worry for him. Whatever will he do without me?" Pete shivered even more. A tear slid down my face. I am supposed to remain objective, but this was wrong... so wrong. "Thank you Pete." I said. He said nothing as I got up and left his kennel.

Popper
The kennel next to Pete's held a very young looking dog. Pure Border Collie by my guess. He stood on his hind legs, looking at me through the gate. "Hello. My name's Popper. He tilted his head. "Are you here to take me home?" "No, I'm sorry," I replied. "But I would like to talk with you." "Sure. What would you like to talk about?" "Popper, how did you come to be in this place?" I asked.

Popper dropped down from the gate, with a perplexed look on his face. He walked to the back of the kennel, then back to the front. I noticed he had one blue eye, and one brown. He was quite beautiful. His black and white coat was shiny and thick. "I am not certain WHY I am here. I think maybe my family will come back for me. They bought me when I was only 6 weeks old. I remember they said how smart Border Collies are, and how it would be so easy to train me. They were very excited at first. The little ones played with me all the time. But the trouble with little Masters is, they refuse to stay in a group. I constantly had to nip their heels to keep them together." He looked confused. "Why won't they stay in a group?" he sighed. "So I did what I thought I should do. I am not quite sure why the little ones screamed when I did my job, but they did, and the Masters got very angry at me.

They also got angry when I had to relieve myself, and did so in the house. I am not sure where they expected me to go. All they said was that I was the smartest breed in the world, and I should just KNOW better. Then they left me in the yard for a month or so. I got bored a lot, and I dug holes in the grass. The next thing I knew, the Masters brought me here." Popper jumped back up on the gate, his white paws protruding through the links. He looked at me with his lovely eyes, and asked "Will you please let them know I want to come home? Please tell them I promise I will be good?" "I will Popper," I said.

Spartan
My heart was breaking. I was beginning to regret coming here, but their stories had to be told. I moved along. The next dog I saw looked to be easily 100 lbs., a Rottweiler. He was handsome indeed, except for the scars on his face and back. He tilted his head, and looked me right in the eyes. "Hello. Who are you?" he asked. "I am a reporter," I replied. "May I speak with you for a little while?" "Most certainly. My name is Spartan. You can come in, I won't bite," he said. "Thank you Spartan. I will." I entered his kennel, reached out and stroked his giant head. He made a loud grumbling noise, and closed his eyes. "Spartan, why are you here?" Before he could answer my question, he was suddenly in the grip of a nasty coughing spasm. It sounded painful. "Please excuse me," he said when it passed. "Kennel cough. It seems all of us who come in here get it.

"Why am I here? Well, about two years ago, I was born in the backyard of some person I can't even recall. I had 11 brothers and sisters. I recall a day when a big man came and gave that person some money, and took me away from my mother. They had to chain her up, as she was very angry that he took me. They chained her and beat her. I came to know the man by the name of Jim. I overheard him telling his friends that I would grow up to be big and mean like my mother. But as I grew older, all I wanted to do was play and be friends with everyone. Jim said I needed to be taught how to be mean, so he chained me up in the yard. No more house for me, he said, I was too spoiled. When people came by to visit, I was so happy to see them. I wanted them to come and play. But that made Jim angry, so he beat me with sticks and chains. When he came near, I would roll onto my back so he would know I wasn't a bad dog. That made him beat me more." Spartan's eyes clouded with grief. "Then he brought me here." I reached out and stroked Spartan's massive gentle head once more. "I am so sorry Spartan. Some people are just plain evil." I gave him a kiss and left his kennel. As I walked away, Spartan called out, "What will happen to me, nice lady?" I shook my head. "I can't say Spartan. Maybe someone kind will come and get you. We can only hope."

Patsy
I walked a little further down. I could see a shape moving at the back of the next kennel. "Hello?" I called out. Suddenly the shape lunged at the gate in a fury, barking and gnashing its teeth. I stumbled backwards, and crashed into an adjacent kennel. The other dogs began barking loudly and jumping at their gates. "Don't go near her," a small female voice came from behind me. "She's mad." I gathered myself back together, and saw a little Jack Russell Terrier behind me. "Thanks for the warning," I was still trembling.

Across the way, the other dog, apparently a Husky and German Shepherd cross, was glaring at me, lips curled back revealing brown stained teeth. Her ribs and hips showed through her dull, matted grey coat. The little dog invited me into her kennel, and I gladly went in.

"Who are you?" "My name is Patsy." The little brown and white dog held a paw up to the gate in greeting. "My owner surrendered me. She said she wanted a cute little dog like the one on the TV show, Frasier. She didn't bother to look into the type of dog I am." Patsy heaved a sigh. "I suppose she expected me to just lie about and only need a short walk each day, just like Eddie, but my energy was so high that I needed to run and play." She glanced at her surroundings. "Now I am here. I suppose it could be worse. I could be like...her." Patsy looked towards the still growling dog across the way. "What happened to make her so vicious?" I asked. "From what we could gather," she replied. "she was found tied in a back yard. She only had a three foot chain. Some days there was no water. Rarely was there any food. One day a nice neighbour came by and brought her some meat. By then it was too late. She was already mad. She broke off her chain, and bit the poor man badly. We know she will be going behind the steel door. I am sad to say, I think it will be best. Perhaps then she will know some peace."
Just then, the door at the end of the building opened, and a woman stepped inside. All the dogs began to bark wildly, then one by one, they went quiet. I whispered to Patsy, "Who is that? Why have all the dogs gone quiet?" Patsy breathed deeply through her little nose, and closed her eyes. "SHE is a Rescuer. Can't you smell it?" she asked. "Smell what?" I was confused. "Compassion. Love. Sorrow. It emanates from her pores. She is here for one of us, but nobody knows who just yet." Patsy looked hopeful.

The Rescuer moved from kennel to kennel, looking at each dog. I sat quietly watching. I could see tears in her eyes as she made eye contact with each one. She stopped at Spartan's cage and spoke quietly to him. "No more beatings my man. No more. You are coming with me. From here on in, it's all going to get better." The Rescuer produced a leash, opened the kennel door, and took Spartan away. As he walked beside her, his little stubby tail wagged with delight.

Patsy sighed again. I could see the disappointment in her eyes, and it grieved me. They all had the same look, as they watched The Rescuer depart. "I am so sorry Patsy," I said in a whisper. "But you are a little dog, and everyone loves little dogs. I am convinced you will be rescued soon." Patsy's brown eyes twinkled at me, a little bit of hope returning.

I had heard and seen enough. I needed to tell people how it was for these unfortunate creatures. They were all here through no fault of their own. I stood to leave. I passed by many other dogs I did not interview, looking at each one, wishing I could take them all home with me and give them the love they deserved.

I stood by the door taking one last glance back, when it opened, and one of the pound workers came in. His face was drawn and sad. He walked by without a word, and stopped at Pete's kennel. I heard him take a deep breath, then he paused, and opened the kennel door. The words were muffled, but I am sure I heard him say "I'm sorry old boy." He came out, with Petey in tow. The old dog's head hung down in resignation, and they both disappeared behind the big steel door.

By Sally Hull
http://eccentrix.com/members/portinthestorm/
http://chattypet.com/pets/show/74

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