So fellow travelers, the past two weekends have featured Transport Days at the local dog rescue where I volunteer.

The calm before the (well-0rganized) chaos 

Whenever I write about transports I know there will be questions regarding this aspect of the operations at Helping Hounds and I always welcome the chance to help people understand the whys and hows of rescue work. Most of those are covered in this previous post.

I’ve served in many roles during the years I have been a volunteer. Joining the Transport Team allows me to serve in a way that fits into my life right now. Knowing the transport dates helps me block out dates in advance so my schedule for that weekend can accommodate any last minutes changes which may (and often do) occur.  Since I drive a 35 mile round trip to get to the rescue, it’s more effective for me to put in longer hours several times a month rather than shorter shifts once or twice a week. Transport weekends are intensely busy, extra help is always needed to keep things running well.

Transports are timed to arrive during hours when the rescue is not open to the public. This gives us a chance to get the new dogs welcomed and somewhat settled in before the long line of potential adopters begins to stream through the front doors.

Each dog is greeted by a volunteer as they come off the transport trailer.

Some dogs are eager to check out their new surroundings

I think I smell that place they call “home!”

others are more cautious,

Ziggy leaning into Alan for a little extra assurance

That’s an understandable reaction given what most of them have been through just to get here. Calm, crazy or cautious, every dog gets reassuring attention from the minute they arrive.

Each dog receives a martingale collar with a Helping Hounds tag and after a quick relief walk, they head inside for a meal

Yum these folks sure know how to feed us pups!

Then it’s another round or two of walks (the stress of travel can upset some tummies, so frequent potty breaks are part of the arrival routine.) Some of the volunteer team walk dogs, others stay inside to clean crates, change bedding and refresh water buckets. Dogs who need a little freshening up are given quick baths. One of my favorite tasks is sitting with a trembling pup, wrapped in a towel and waiting for that moment when they relax enough to give a first little kiss.

When the doors open to the public at noon prospective adopters are greeted by guides who walk them through the rooms, answering questions and helping them interact with dogs they may be interested in. Watching the heart connections form between the dogs and their adopters is a truly magical experience.  I never tire of seeing the “gotcha” moment click into place.

This is a photo from 2014 and while its not a great shot it is my favorite photo I have ever taken at the rescue.  I watched this young couple fall in love with Kimbo a local “pit mix,” as they waited for a different dog to arrive on a transport which had been delayed. Lucky Kimbo did indeed go home with them that day and the dog they had originally selected from the transport list went home with another family.  Two perfect matches.

For some dogs, that moment takes a little longer

My buddy Buddy, who has been waiting as patiently as a young fellow can for a family of his own. He’s one of the local transfers brought over from the city shelter, part of the rescue’s efforts to help reduce the over population of bully breed (aka “pit bull”) mixes in our local shelters.

and when it happens it is that much sweeter, because while they wait we all fall a little more in love with those dogs every day. The day their adoption photos post on the rescue’s page there is a steady stream of “happy tears” comments.

Our amazing photographer Carolin posts an album of the dogs arriving.  The photos soon have a string of comments from their original fosters and rescue sponsors who anxiously follow their journey North to find permanent homes. What selfless and compassionate people they are to take in these dogs for a few weeks as they recover from their spay/neuter surgeries. The personality profiles the fosters send are tremendously helpful in creating a better understanding of each dog’s temperment, because the dog’s behavior in the rescue kennels vs a foster home is often quite different. Many of the families also pack up “going home” bags with favorite toys, treats, blankets and letters which bring tears to everyone’s eyes when the new parents share them with us.

In the days following transports, we all check the daily posts to see who went home. Occasionally a first placement does not work out quite right. It happens less often now because the staff works so hard to make the right match for both adopters and dogs. Besides even dogs that come back don’t stay long.

So many dogs, so many stories each one a life saved.

Actually two lives saved, because each successful adoption makes room for other dogs in need, a kind of domino effect of openings down the line: an open kennel at our rescue, a spare bed in a foster home and one more sweet soul pulled from a kill shelter in time.

Like I said, so many dogs, so many stories. It would easily become overwhelming so I make a conscious choice to focus on the hope of the work we do. I am but one human doing what I can do and hope is what keeps me going.

Photo courtesy of Carolin Booth Murphy

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

Editorial Note:  Sunday’s at the Rescue is a series of posts about my experiences working with rescue dogs.  It is named for Sunday, a sweet young dog who came through the rescue where I volunteer, stole a piece of my heart (as so many of them do) and got herself adopted into a great home.

So fellow travelers, a bit of serpentine luck derailed my plans for an important Friday evening meeting with some new friends.

A little photo art fun with the serpentine villain of the evening.

About forty new dogs were due to arrive at the rescue where I volunteer and I had signed up to help out the transport team greet them. It had been a demanding week at work, assisting students through mid-term Regents exams, end of semester projects and covering a constantly shifting schedule of assignments.  I was looking forward to welcoming the rescue’s new furry visitors, getting them fed, walked and settled in before their big adoption meet ups this weekend.

Unfortunately something called a serpentine belt gave out just as I was coming around a high angle curve onto a major highway. All I knew at that moment was I heard a loud thump, felt a sudden jolt and suddenly found myself fighting to keep the car from veering off the road. I had no idea what had happened. I honestly thought I’d hit a big chunk of snow or ice or worse, maybe an animal. Ninja driving mode kicked in. I managed to hold the vehicle on the road through the curve and guide it safely through merging traffic to the far lane of the highway. By then I knew I had lost the power steering. The battery and check engine lights both flashed to life on the dash board. It did not take long for the engine to start overheating.

*O*H*C*R*A*P*

Time to give my buddies at AAA a call. Trust me between my aging camper and my run of luck with various vehicles (this same car tried to ditch its exhaust system last year while I was on a road trip) I get full value for every dollar I spend on my Auto Club Membership.

Fighting back tears, I messaged the rescue to let the transport team know I would not make it in. When I got back home, I made a batch of hearty ham and bean soup, changed way too early into my pj’s and curled up with my own little rescue girl, Delilah

Homemade soup, a refreshing drink in my favorite Mickey glass and the company of a good and faithful friend.  Comfort at it’s best.

I slept restlessly, inspite of being exhausted. I woke much later than usual this morning so Delilah was pretty eager to get out to the yard for her morning patrol of last night’s critter tracks.

Steaming mug of coffee in hand, I stood by my ice covered fish pond listening to the bubbling song of the life sustaining aerators frozen into the surface. Hang in there my graceful friends, I thought and then realized I was probably talking as much to myself as to the assorted fish below the ice.

Suddenly, Delilah burst into a figure 8 run around the dog yard. It’s something she learned from Sox, the Shepard-Collie mix who left us for the Great Fields Beyond several years ago. When she first came to our home as a foster, she would sit in the center of the yard and bark with great agitation at Sox when he burst into the outlay running pattern. One day, instead of barking, she just took off with him. How funny it was to watch this spirited little black Chi-mix tearing around with her big brother as they herded imaginary sheep. Resident squirrels would chatter at them from the tall fir trees, birds scattered, dirt flew high until they would come to a sudden stop by the gate, panting and looking pleased with themselves.

Sox died suddenly one morning a little over five years ago. He was not quite eight years old and had shown no signs of any illness at his vet check a few months before. He simply collapsed on the living room floor one September morning struggling to breathe.  Our vets office told us come over right away and not wait for them to open. He died in in the car, his head resting in my lap on the way to the vet.

Sox,  in his signature “stair pose” photo by Emma Rahalski 2011

I will never forget the day some weeks after Sox died that Delilah first burst into the outlay run around the yard. The heartache and grief from his sudden departure was still raw yet there was Delilah racing around the yard as if he was right there beside her.

And in the very depths of my soul, where truth resides untouched by the doubts of this world I sensed his spirit was running with her. It was a sweet moment and, although not often repeated, it is a moment which brings joy to me often when I am most in need of it.

Thanks my friend for the visit this morning.  Bless you Delilah for running with his spirit and refilling my heart with joy.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.