Well it’s been 33 days, and Sophie got a call today saying that I was starting to really stress out. If I stay here any longer, I may start to develop some issues that I don’t have. My one and only problem so far has been with other dogs.

If someone doesn’t come through soon, it will just get worse for my chances at a life, since stress like this only leads to insanity. And who will want an insane Pitbull?

The other option to a foster home, would be a change of scenery, such as a nice boarding facility that could give me individual playtime and long walks (of course with a muzzle).

A third option, if I have to remain here, would be an experienced person who could take me out for nice long walks on a daily or regular basis.

Of course those last two options require more money, which at this point is not available. So I’m stressing out, Sophie is stressing out, bringing me back to her place is not an option as the inspector would most definitely love to get his hands on me and have me euthanized, especially after this streak of media attention surrounding Pitbulls. Sophie is at a real loss at this point and needs your help to help me.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, open your home or your wallet to get me out of here.

I received this cute card with a $50 donation today and words of encouragement and it made me happy to see people care.

Continue reading Tyson 4 – 33 days in hiding →

My name was Tucker, and I’m now in a better place. My final hour was spent with Sophie and her son Rick as they were rushing me to the vet in a desperate attempt to save my life.

I, unfortunately lived through seven years of misery and neglect, which took it’s toll on me. I was the skinniest, most skeletal dog that Sophie has ever rescued in 15 years. I was down to barely 25lbs, when I should have weighed closer to 60lbs.

My story is not very clear, but goes something like this: I lived with a junkie who totally neglected me, an acquaintance of his, after meeting me, knew he had to do something but wasn’t sure what, since us poor dogs have no rights. Just trying to get any kind of authorities involved, and knowing that Berger Blanc would have been my final destination, he decided to force the guy to surrender me to him. In the beginning I was putting a little weight on, getting a little muscle back, was starting to play and had hopes for a new life. However the damage done was probably too much and in the last two days was unable to hold my food down. My “savior” tried and tried by feeding me small quantities, but it didn’t work.

The last day, I got so weak he knew something was really wrong, yet a series of blood tests had been done so he knew I had no illnesses.

He left a comment on this website asking for advice to give me back some appetite and strength, but as I got weaker he decided to leave a voice message with Sophie. Upon arrival she heard a message from a distraught, crying young man and realized the urgency of the situation.

Being the optimist that she is, she was fairly sure that she would be able, with the help of her vet, to put me back on my feet. She rushed as fast as she could, during rush hour, to get to me and was blown away when she saw me. Her optimism took a dive as she right away estimated my chances to be 10 to 20%.

She wrapped me in a blanket, put me in the car and rushed back from Pointes-Aux-Trembles to Verdun, unfortunately I was too weak. I tried to lift my head to look at her, couldn’t hold it up, put it back down and gave my final breath half way to the vet.

I will always remember that kind face and sweet words as she was telling me to hang in there. I’m glad that I was with her in my last moments rather than a place like the Berger Blanc.

I know that even though we met for a brief time, she will never forget me.