The Miracle of Asha

In animal rescue, we’re always praying for miracles. Sometimes we get them, and when we do, we rejoice. All too often, we don’t. And then we grieve.

But I’m beginning to think that even when we don’t get the miracles we hope for, we sometimes still receive reasons to rejoice…although we may not realize it at the time. Take the case of Asha.

This petite pit bull terrier mix was rescued in 2011. She was found tied up in the basement of a row house in Baltimore, thin and covered with blood and open sores crawling with maggots. Her rescuers believe she was used as a bait dog. For those of you unfamiliar with the term (lucky you), that’s a dog—usually of a more submissive temperament—used as a canine “punching bag” by other dogs being trained to fight.

When Asha arrived at the Baltimore Animal Rescue and Care Shelter (BARCS), she was so severely wounded that she needed emergency treatment before she could even be transported to a Baltimore area veterinary clinic, where she underwent additional surgery involving more than 100 stitches. Then, because of her bite wounds and unknown vaccination status, she was placed in quarantine at the veterinary hospital for 6 months. 

And that’s where Asha’s legacy took root. One caring individual created a Facebook page for her in order to solicit financial support for her care and quarantine costs, and local news media covered her story. Donations and messages of concern began pouring in, and by the time Asha went to a foster home, she had more than 800 Facebook "friends"…far more than most people I know.

But the caring and involvement didn’t stop there. Throughout Asha’s quarantine, a dozen or so people—known as “Asha’s Angels”—visited her at the veterinary hospital regularly.  Others shared their love and support by hand delivering or sending her beds, treats, toys, sweaters, holistic lotions…and her favorite snack, French fries.

I was fortunate enough to be invited to meet—and photograph—Asha during her stay at the veterinary hospital. While still obvious, her wounds were healing and she seemed delighted with her toys and treats. I ended up including a photo of Asha in my dog photo book, Brindled Beauties

It seemed Asha was adored by the world…at least the part of it encompassing the Baltimore, MD, region. People were celebrating her rescue and recovery, and wishing a happy ending for her story.

Sadly, it was not to be.

On January 9, 2014, the rescue organization that took Asha into their care, posted the following message on Facebook: 

It is with our sincerest regrets that we, Baltimore Bully Crew, need to address that we were forced to humanely euthanize a long-time Bully Crew dog, Asha. She began her journey with us over two years ago after being rescued. She went to a foster and eventual adopter and found herself back with us after dynamics in that home did not work out. We knew she had some issues with other dogs when she came back to us. She was placed into a foster home with experienced crew members who continued to evaluate her needs and work on her rehabilitation. In the seven months that she had been back, it became abundantly clear that there were some major behavioral issues that were going to need to be addressed. She clearly demonstrated that living with other animals was never going to be an option. Secondly, she, on multiple occasions, demonstrated human aggressive tendencies with the intent of biting. While we do have dogs in our rescue that sometimes have to be "only dog" dogs, we cannot responsibly and in good conscience place a dog that shows unpredictable signs of human aggression back into society. So, we made what we believed to be the responsible decision to do right by Asha and society. The vets who cared for her for the last two years supported our decision. We are all very distraught at this ending, but feel it is important to be honest with the public, as this is a reality of rescue.

Those of us who had followed Asha’s story and celebrated her milestones were devastated. But as the dozens of follow-up Facebook messages revealed, nobody had anything but respect, support, compassion, and appreciation for members of the rescue organization and the incredibly difficult decision they had been forced to make. In fact, many of these posters shared messages of commiseration, recalling similar difficult decisions.

But while we all grieve for Asha’s failure to get the “happily ever after” we all wanted so desperately for her, there is still reason to rejoice. Like a pebble tossed in a pond, creating ripples that spread ever outward, the life—and death—of this one young, damaged dog has had a lasting positive impact.

People came together for Asha. People rescued her, treated her wounds, cared for her while she recovered, tried to help her overcome her emotional scars, and showed her what love was. People read her story and were inspired to battle the evils of dog fighting through education and political action. People helped pay for her medical and boarding bills or were inspired to donate to shelters and animal welfare organizations. And people connected and became friends with other animal lovers both in person and in cyberspace. 

Given this groundswell of support, I can only believe that many of these people will renew their ongoing efforts to help animals in need, and others—who may have stood on the sidelines—will now enter the fray. And this means there’s hope for the thousands of other Ashas still waiting for their second chance.

Not a bad legacy for one small dog.

From Bait Dog to Source of Inspiration

Because of my involvement with various shelters and animal welfare organizations, I have the opportunity to meet and interact with a lot of dogs. All of them are special in one way or another. And all of them have stories to tell.

Asha is no exception. Until just a few short weeks ago, this little girl was chained to the wall in a windowless basement and used as bait dog. For those of you fortunate enough to be unfamiliar with the term, bait dogs are used as the canine equivalent of sparring partners for dogs being trained to fight.

Unlike human sparring partners, however, these dogs usually don’t fight back…think slabs of meat punched by Sylvester Stallone in the movie “Rocky.” Chosen for their sweet, submissive nature, bait dogs just get bitten, and bitten, and bitten. Then they die, either quickly from their wounds or slowly from starvation. Since they’re of no monetary value to dog fighters, they’re not worth purchasing food for.

It seems strange to say this, but Asha is one of the lucky ones. Thanks to an anonymous tip from a concerned citizen, she was discovered in time…just. Covered with bite wounds—some infested with maggots—she required emergency surgery involving more than 100 stitches at the Baltimore Animal Rescue and Care Shelter (BARCS) before she could even be transported to Towson Veterinary Hospital for longer-term care. Her rescuers didn’t know if she’d survive the night.

But she did. And on the day that I met her, less than three weeks after her liberation from hell, Asha demonstrated an amazingly resilient spirit and zest for life. She adores my friend Jen, who made Asha’s survival her mission. She adores the veterinarians and staff at the hospital. She adores French fries. She adores the toys and “blankeys” generous donors have sent her. She even seemed to adore me.

And the feeling was mutual! This brave dog—estimated to be only 18 months old—is an inspiration…an example of how all of us, whether human or canine, can overcome the bad hands dealt to us, put the past behind us, and get on with living life to the fullest. You go, girl!

Note: Because of her many bite wounds and unknown rabies vaccine status, Asha will have to remain in veterinary boarding for more than 5 more months. Anyone wishing to make a donation can do so via her Chip-in fund or by calling the veterinary hospital at 410-825-8880. If you would like to mail a donation, send it to 716 N. York Road, Towson, MD 21204; and write “Asha/BBC” in the memo section.

Reflections on Cruelty, Kindness, Love and Loss

Several incidents involving animal cruelty that appeared in the news during the past couple of weeks have truly tested my faith in human beings:

• Patrick, the pit bull starved and dumped down a trash chute in Newark, NJ.
• A stray dog, now called “Ducky,” whose muzzle was bound with duct tape in western Maryland.
• Bear, a 5-month-old pup found wandering the streets of Phoenix, Arizona, who was born deaf and who is now also blind as the result of human cruelty or neglect.
• And even the notice of the return of two adult dogs adopted several years ago from an animal welfare organization with which I work because their people have decided to voluntarily “change” their lives and move across country.

Fortunately, there have also been examples of love, loyalty, and kindness toward animals on this earthly ark that go a long way to balancing this karmic cruelty:

• The maintenance worker who cared enough to investigate the moving bag of garbage that contained Patrick, the employees and volunteers of the Associated Humane Societies, the committed staff at Garden State Veterinary Specialists who are giving Patrick the care he needs as he reclaims his life, and the hundreds of anonymous donors who have contributed to his care.
• The volunteers who not only searched for Ducky but also provided tips and other information that lead to the identification of two suspects charged with animal cruelty.
• The people associated with Boxer Luv Rescue, who took in Bear, gave him medical treatment, and are caring for him in a loving foster home while qualified potential adopters are reviewed;
• And my parents, who serve as shining examples of how strong, fulfilling, and lasting the human/canine bond can be.

Abby was more than a pet to my parents; she was their youngest child. She helped ease the impact of “empty nest” syndrome when my younger sister moved out. She introduced them to new people and new experiences on the walks they took…on suburban streets, mountain trails, and sandy beaches. They developed new friendships with the human “parents” of her canine pals. In short, she enriched their lives by her very existence.

That’s not to say Abby was perfect. Unlike my parents’ previous Lab, Samantha, who was gentle and mellow and “sweet” from day one, Abby was, as a puppy, headstrong, willful, and rambunctious…a real handful. There were times during their first weeks together that my mother—who was home with Abby all day—was sure she couldn’t handle this canine “wild child.” My father, who saw Abby primarily in the evening, when she was worn out from her day’s “activities” (You know the saying, “A tired dog is a good dog”) couldn’t understand my mother’s reaction.

Fortunately, they all stuck it out. Abby—and my mother—received one-on-one training lessons, Abby matured, and their relationship blossomed and thrived. And as she grew older, she did become gentler and sweeter but never lost her sense of fun. She seemed to know that she was loved utterly and completely.

But such love comes at a cost.

Abby was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma (an awful, aggressive canine cancer that took the life of my Samba just a year ago) and had her spleen removed the first week in December. Following an initial chemotherapy session, which left Abby feeling sick and lethargic, my parents decided that that was enough. They would continue to monitor her status, baby her, feed her the best food possible, walk her as often as she liked, and just “be” with her for as long as they had her…which turned out to be almost four months.

On Tuesday morning I learned via email that my parents had made the agonizing decision to let Abby go. They were blessed to have her for more than 14 years, but as those of us who have loved and lost animal companions know, it’s never long enough.

To ease her grief, my mother turned, as I often do, to words. Sharing one’s thoughts and feelings can be a cathartic experience and allows others to remember and reflect on their own lost loves. And I think we are often most eloquent when our emotions are full engaged, as my mother’s obviously were when she shared the following message with family and friends after Abby’s passing. (I don’t think she would mind my sharing her special tribute.)

“After suffering a major seizure last night and another one this morning, and receiving results of a recent blood test indicating anemia (from an undisclosed source of internal bleeding) and a significant elevation in liver enzymes, we came to the agonizing decision to release her from this world to a more peaceful one to avoid the pain and suffering that was inevitable. I was always determined to protect her from a life severely diminished of joy, which she so generously gave to us! And so we decided to send her back to God, who surely had "a hand" (with Kerry Kaster's help) in sending her to us! She brought us energy, enthusiasm, challenges, LOVE and laughter, enriching our lives in countless ways that cannot be replicated—and we won't try, but will be forever grateful for having had the opportunity to share our lives with her! Thank you all who enriched her life with love and care and friendship. Abby was our gift and you were hers! We will never forget.”

My mother also wrote to me a couple of days later that “I guess pain comes from loving too much—what a paradox!”

After giving that statement a lot of thought, I’ve decided that it isn’t a paradox at all but rather part of the natural yin and yang of things. I’m not sure you can ever love too much, and the pain we feel at the loss of a loved one is a reflection of—and tribute to—the strength and value of the relationship we shared. How much sadder it would be if such a loss inspired nothing.

As Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote in his poem In Memoriam:27, 1850:

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

Of Horror and Heroism

Those of us involved in animal welfare and rescue encounter horror stories on an all-too-regular basis...stories that depress us and cause us to question the "humanity" of Homo sapiens. Fortunately, we are also exposed to great acts of interspecies kindness, empathy, and selfless generosity that bolster our spirits and strengthen our resolve.

The story of Jimmy D exemplifies both: the horror and the heroism.

Somehow, I missed the initial news reports about Jimmy...how he was discovered in August by a Baltimore, MD, couple with part of his nose and muzzle hacked off. It wasn't until more recently that I discovered a blog devoted to Jimmy D's story--his rescue, his surgeries, and his ongoing recovery. And let me tell you, it's worth a read...right back from the original posts and photos.

It's a story that will infuriate you and inspire you. The kindness and devotion of Jimmy's foster mom and the physical and psychological resilience of this dog are awesome. They're both outstanding "ambassadors" of their respective species.