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.
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