Memorial

Corky

Being Rescued - by Carol Taylor

In 2002 I walked away from many years as a Wall Street slave, first as a trader, and then in administration. By the time I had all I could take, I already had thirteen published books all written by night, so long as the Asian markets offered no surprise opening numbers. I took scary chance that I could make my living writing full time. Even if things moved slowly in this transition, I believed nothing could be more unpleasant than working in an industry where burn-out is the norm rather than the exception.

At that time, I lived and worked in a small apartment. I was also watching a six year old relationship fall apart, something I could do nothing to prevent. I was alone all day, so my mother thought I needed another dog.

"Mom, why do I 'need' a dog?"

"Because you're good with them and you love them."

And, I thought, because you worry about me here alone with the family curse of chronic depression.

"I don't have time to raise a puppy right. It's not fair to me or the dog."

"Carol, there are places to get a dog who is not a puppy, and no matter what your mood, that dog will be in a much better place here with you than he probably is now."

I'd owned several dogs as an adult, none who I loved more than the Sheltie named Sandy who was around for fourteen years. I admitted to myself that I would love to have another Sheltie, so I went online and started looking for Sheltie rescue organizations. I discovered Indiana Sheltie Rescue and carefully read through the entire website, and even looked at the profiles of dogs for adoption. For a life-long dog lover, it was hard to let go of the idea of adopting a rescue Sheltie after I'd seen their sweet faces. My mother even picked out the one I ended up adopting.

Still, I not only had lots of work to do to stay in the publishing game, but I had travel obligations as well. Some years are busier than others. I lived alone. I didn't want to board a dog every few weeks. This would require some planning.

I submitted an adoption application to Teresa Cotton. When we spoke on the phone I asked a lot of questions. This was a serious commitment that couldn't be made in haste. I wanted time to think things through, and wait to adopt until my travel commitments were over and I could give a rescue dog the best of myself.

As soon as I had the chance--about three months later--I went back to the ISR website and looked over the pets for adoption. I decided I could easily love Corky, a porky pooch with a playful smile. After I became an approved adopter, I immediately made an appointment to meet Corky at his foster home. He was beautiful, loved attention, but I could see he missed some socialization at some point. I needed to think about Corky overnight, and I wanted to call his former vets and ask some questions, especially about what to expect with his dysplastic right hip.

I called the foster home the next day and ask to adopt Corky. It was the smartest thing I ever did.

At five years of age, he was quirky, lovable, and he barked a lot, even for a Sheltie. I continued to keep him on the diet food for the sake of his hips, and constructed games we could play that did not use traditional dog toys or other dogs. As my six year relationship came roaring to an end, Corky was there with me. My previous Sheltie was "let's play ball" obsessed, loving, but not much for cuddling. I loved the fact that Corky was always willing to rest next to me on the sofa or snuggle close to me in bed. Most of all, I loved him and I knew that his love was returned. He became very important to me in those first few months after the break up of my relationship.

So, this was Sheltie rescue. What a great idea, but what does it really mean? Does it make the rescued a hopeless case or the rescuer a hero? And how do we decide who is who? In Indiana Sheltie Rescue we base our work on our motto, "Mending Broken Hearts," a directive that is a much better gauge of the concept of "rescue" that can ever be found in a dictionary.

By the time another year passed, Corky and I had bonded to the point where I almost thought he knew what I was saying to him, especially with my forehead pressed to his. I taught him a game we played in bed at night using Spanish words. He got to be Señor el Lobo Salvaje, or the Big Bad Wolf. He loved it, and the mattress cushioned the blows his hips would have taken on the floor. He was hugged so often that he learned to hug back when I lifted him. I shared many secrets with him, including the meaning of rescue. It goes two ways. Corky was always present, always loving towards me, and knew if "mommy" was having a good cry that his job was to put his head in my lap. I often told him, "My rescue dog rescued me," a secret we shared with no one else.

I was in Argentina in November 2007 when my mother first told me Corky wasn't "acting like himself." A vague phrase. He was eating and seemed otherwise fine, so she put the "not being himself" down to his missing me. When I returned in December Corky seemed to be fine. He was lively as ever, but what seemed to be nothing definable to us was an insidious invader we couldn't see--cancer of the bladder and liver.

Sitting in the vet's office holding Corky on my lap, I was faced with the irrefutable evidence of the x-rays. I was just numb. Corky was terminally ill. How did this happen and why didn't I see any symptoms?

I did as much for him as I could, but I had to give up for his sake and have him euthanized just three days after his tenth birthday. I had never had to make such a decision before, and this was made all the more difficult by the things he and I had weathered together. It was hard to let go. I lost not only my best friend, but also the dog I was closest to of the many I'd owned previously.

I still miss my Corky. His collar, a favorite toy, and a photo of him are on my dresser. I can see his smile before I go to sleep at night. Now, hogging my bed, is a sweet rescue named Brandy. She likes to cuddle and tolerates all my hugs and kisses. Many things about her remind me of my first Sheltie, but she is her own little personality, and I love her just for being her. She keeps me laughing.

I love to watch Brandy race back and forth across the yard, leap into the air, and sail over obstacles with her pretty feathers flying. I'd forgotten how beautiful a Sheltie was without the rolling gait of hip dysplasia to interfere. Brandy is healthy and happy, following me everywhere I go, rarely letting me out of her sight. Her interactions with my mother's little princess, Duchess, have also provided much entertainment.

Brandy's affection eases some of the pain of losing Corky. She will be another cherished Sheltie in my life, a new best friend to be there whenever I need her, just as I am here for her. I've no doubt about it. Once again, I must ask, just who rescued who here?

Muffin

Several years ago our Molly Ann lost her Mother. When Brittany passed Molly no longer had a 4 legged playmate. Through friends we learned about dog rescue groups and a litle searching and Indiana Sheltie Rescue was found.

Molly filled out the application and soon a little fat Sable girl came to visit. She seemed so very lonely and and also needed a playmate. Muffin became part of the family, but not a playmate. She was her own little self. The term ignorameter came about because Muffin tended to ignore when things were not to her liking.

Five plus years later Muffin is still the same reserved little girl. Her personality continues to evolve. The latest is her "Hey Dad I'm waiting." At the dinner table, she grabs my shirt tail and tugs. She knows I sneak her a scrap without the other furkids knowing. If I don't pay attention she gets very insistent.

Muffin P (Princess) is in her golden years and we are truly grateful to ISR for allowing her to come into her life. The picture of her is after she had just got done showing her brother Edison how beautiful her snaggly teefies are.

Thanks John & Debbie

Update Feb 2007 by John Mountford

As is often the case, we wanted to get another dog to "replace" our dog who passed away. We needed a playmate for our other little girl. What we learned was, a dog is never replaced in anything but a physical aspect. There are as many personalities as there are Shelties. As Muffin ambled through our gate that first day she seemed resigned to the fact that this was going to be her home and she would toleate the humans that lived in the house. She and Molly smelled each other and then began a life together that never involved play or agression, but quiet acceptance. Muffin P became a little girl who loved to get attention, but was not a lap dog. She loved to beg a treat and used those wonderful soft eyes to her advantage.

She was such a laid back little girl. She seldom did more than trot unless there was a treat involved. Muffin would enjoy just laying and watching the world go around. She loved her property and would often walk the 5 acres, savoring everything around her. Mr Sunbeam was her friend on a warm spring day.

Perhaps the one thing that wound wind" her up," was a nice snow. She would "race" out the door kicking up her heels, doing Sheltie turns, and trotting along with her nose under the snow. Her soft eyes sparkled and that beautiful Sheltie smille was just extra special. Snow just made her remember that she really was a dog.

This year the snow came, but our little girl had gone to a special place.

Thank you, Indiana Sheltie Rescue, for letting Muffin be a part of our family.

Toonie
       
       
       
        
        


       

       
       
       
       
        Mommy misses you so much everyday.  A day, a minute, a second doesn't go
by that my I don't think about you.  My heart is so broken right now
without my little Tuna Fish to snuggle up to me on the couch, and watch
TV, and on the bed curled up to me at night. 

I miss you in the mornings when I would have to drag you out of bed to
go out and then you would give me a hard time when I would try to get
you to come back in.

I miss you waiting by the door in the mornings waiting to go out to the
barn with and running up and down the barn isles barking at all the
horses, making sure they were not going to get out of their stalls.
You were always at me feet, always. 

Why did you wander off, just that one time. That one time has now taken
you away from me.  I know you thought you were a big boy and doing what
comes natural to you,  but now we are separated.  I never in a million
years thought you would ever be gone.  Now I hope I see you again soon.
I know you are around me in many ways. 

I try to think of all the great times we have shared, and I still laugh
at all of the silly little things you use to do, like body slam the
patio door whenever I would leave you.  Nip at Lauri's  feet and scare
the dickens out of her.  She deserved it! 

I hope now, that you have found Poco and that you are not alone.
Please don't pester Poco too much, he didn't like it much when you would pull
on his tail and bite his ears.  Please be good.   Until I can see you
again, I will keep watching for your little tell, tell signs that you
are still around me in spirit.  Godspeed, Fish!

Love Mom.

February, 2006

Carrie Anne Tarr

February, 2006


Ladybug


June 8, 2005

Vixen, a puppymill mom... Ladybug, unwanted after a

new Christmas puppy... We called her Weeble, because

she wobbled & didn't fall down. All three together

made the sweetest, most caring & gentle Sheltie ever!

She will be missed.

-Paula & Michael Bare

SUNSHINE

March 30, 1990 - July 24, 2005

Sunshine was born when I was in a very sad time of life. I had lost the most wonderful Sheltie, Sheba. Sunshine brought the light back into my life, thus her name. Sunshine took away the pain of that loss. She became her own self though, she was not a clone of Sheba. Sunshine became arthritic at a young age, 3 years old, due to an injury in her rear leg. She never let it get her down. As the years passed and the arthritis worsened, her vets would look at her x-rays and proclaim wonder that she could walk at all. But walk she did. She never showed pain. Not from arthritis or from the cancer that eventually took her. I think her vet described her best. In his condolence card he wrote, "She was a sweet but elegant old lady with a tough attitude and spirit." I will miss you forever Sunshine.

Love,

Mom

Submitted by Kim Osborn, Benecia, CA

Dugan Fett

In January 2003, ISR was called to take in an old bi-black stud dog from a puppy mill. He had lived his whole life in a wire cage. As a result, the pads of his paws were swollen and deformed, and his coat was so badly matted that he had to be shaved, making him look more like a black and white chihuahua than a purebred Sheltie! His teeth were so rotten that several were hanging loose out of his mouth. After what was probably the first dentistry of his life, he was left with only one tooth; but it was a very white, very handsome and sturdy lower canine!

When I took him to foster, it took all of 10 minutes of looking into his eyes for me to say to him, “I think you’re here forever, little guy.” I fell in love immediately, and named him Dugan, a fine Scottish name that I had held in reserve for my first male sheltie. Dugan joined our 3 female shelties and quickly became the clown of the bunch. His constant barking and circling around the furniture at mealtime earned him the nickname, “Counterclockwise Dugan” from my husband, since that was the way he always spun.

Despite his long years in a cage, Doogie was the perfect house gentleman. Once his coat grew out, it also became apparent what a handsome and well-bred Sheltie he was. He loved to take long walks, and always walked quietly right by my side, unlike his sisters who pulled and barked rudely at passers-by. He always stayed near me: sleeping on my feet at the computer desk or in the living room, and spending the night as close as he could to my side of the bed. And how he loved the snow, and herding the various birds and ducks that flew into our yard!

In January 2005, Dugan was diagnosed with lymphoma. Thus began our “great adventure,” as Dugan and I began a series of weekly three-hour round trips to an oncologist for chemotherapy treatments. At first the results were amazing, but after five months, Dugan began to wear down. On June 6, D-Day, which will now be known forever as “Dugan Day” in our house, Dugan’s life on earth came to an end. As we eased him peacefully into sheltie heaven, I complained to my vet about the unfairness of it all, that Dugan only had 2½ years of a good life after so many years of a lousy one. But my vet said a wonderful thing: “Yes, but he had the dessert with you, and everyone knows dessert is the best part.”

Good-bye, my darling little son. May you chase sheepies in heaven forever.

-Cynthia Fett

2003

After being rescued, Dugan was shaved to remove excessive matting

2004

Happy and handsome, Dugan enjoyed a wonderful life with the Fetts

Click on photos to enlarge

Spencer Bare

1993 - May 8, 2005

Spencer spent a few days in the Ft. Wayne shelter after his human had passed away. He was then taken into rescue and delivered to us as our first foster Sheltie. He was still grieving over his lost human, and it took him about two weeks to show us his true personality. He was about eight years old at the time but he still had plenty of energy and frequently played like a puppy with our other dogs. He learned our routine quickly and was eager to please us. He had a gentle nature, and taught us what was needed to be a good foster home. Spencer was a patient teacher, which was necessary, as we were sometimes slow learners.

We thought at his age it might be hard to find a good home for him as many families seem to want younger dogs. Were we ever wrong. Soon Paula and Michael Bare showed up at Best Friends Pet Resort where there was an adoption event. Things went well and paperwork was quickly filled out to start the process. The Bares could not believe an older guy, perfect manners, gorgeous full coat, tipped ears & nobody wanted him. The tension ran high in the Bare household as they waited to see if they would be approved as adopters. Soon the home visit was completed, references checked and the humans involved in the process came to the same conclusion Spencer had over a week ago: the Bares would provide him a good home. When Paula and Michael come over to pick him up there were tears of sadness and tears of joy. We were sad because Spencer had become part of our life and he would be leaving our household, and we were happy for Spencer who was going to his forever home.

Spencer had four glorious years with the Bares, but today they were parted. A few weeks ago Spencer was diagnosed with cancer, and by today it became apparent that his spirit needed to be released from his failing body. He now frolics with the other furkids at the rainbow bridge.

Thank you, Spencer, for sharing your time with us and teaching us how to help other Shelties. You were a true gentleman.

- Al Boulanger

Mackenzie

Mackenzie came to live with me at 6-1/2 weeks old, a fluffy ball of fur. She was my first introduction into competition obedience. Being new to shelties, I didn't realize she was not the best choice for competition, but she did try her best. She went on to compete in agility and earned the U-ACHX, the highest agility title awarded by the UKC. She was always bright and alert, never missed anything, followed me everywhere and always had something to say, a sheltie through and through. She wasn't happy when brother Keenan was adopted from ISR four years ago, but he quickly learned that she was used to getting her own way and always let her be in charge. She had difficulty adjusting to the world when she lost her sight last year to SARDS, it did take a few months to adjust, but she never gave up. I used to get so mad when she would get into things she shouldn't, but is worse when she stopped trying. She was also developing problems due to kidney failure and a sudden illness proved more than her little body could handle. Her feisty little personality will be sadly missed.

by Rhonda Politsch

Key Largo's Sunrise Hope October 2002 - January 24, 2005 Dear Hope, It has taken 3 long weeks to be able to write to you. I don't know if I overlooked something when you were sick or if you were just meant to have a short time with us and someone else needed you. We have had so many letters and sympathy cards about you and the volunteers set up a fund to help the other rescue shelties in your honor. You had made a big impression on so many. For those that don't know your story, I am going to briefly tell it again. You were born to someone belonging to the Central Florida Breeder's Assoc and you along with many other puppies made your way to Indiana in a box truck to the Nut n Butt puppy store. Things didn't go well at the puppy store and through the determined efforts of concerned customers eventually Indpls Animal Care and Control seized the remaining puppies and took them to the shelter. Due to lack of care some of the puppies had died, some were sick with pneumonia and parvo, some had congenital problems. You had pneumonia and a PDA heart murmur. Volunteer Jodi Vondran convinced the shelter to let you leave and go to a vet for more detail care. Jodi brought you to me on Dec 23, 2002 and early on Dec 24 , 2002 your Aunt Jan and I took you to see the doctor who would become your Doctor Aunt Mona. You were given medicine and sent home to rest and see if you could get better. If you did survive you would need to have heart surgery. Well over the next months you did survive and you did have heart surgery and Justice for Puppies prevailed after several court hearings with the owner of the Nut n Butt puppy store. It had not really occurred to me that I could let you into my life to love but Doctor Mona convinced me I could do that so I took the plunge and we made you Hope Cotton. You had many endearing qualities and in many ways were the perfect companion. Everyone loved you. You got me out to exercise by joining me on my bike by riding in the basket with me. You learned tricks and entered costume and trick contests. You sat for some beautiful pictures. You began to learn agility and had earned two legs towards your jumpers with weaves in AKC and one leg towards jumpers in USDAA. The best times were just me and you though and looking deep into your beautiful Angelic eyes. You welcomed many a homeless sheltie to our home and became attached to Timmy who joined us in Mar 2004. I know you wanted Timmy to stay with us and so he will join our family and we will have to go on without you. I will always be grateful that the Lord sent me an Angel to love. I will always love you. I will always miss you. Love, Mom	December 23, 2002 Little Hope about 7 weeks old
	January 31, 2003 Post surgery to repair PDA heart murmur following recovery from pneumonia
	2004 Shadyside Park, Anderson, Indiana
	2004 Agility Girl!

OREO
September 14, 1992 - August 27, 2003

Oreo came into our program in the fall of 2000. At that time, he was 8 years old and weighed a whopping 73 pounds. Because of his weight, his joints were broken down to the point that he was actually walking on his wrists and ankles. But the size of his heart was just as big. Oreo wanted so badly to run and play with the other Shelties in his foster home, but after a few steps he was worn out, and then he was content to sit patiently with his foster mom and watch them.

Gradually with a slow and steady program of diet and exercise, the pounds began to come off. And in December of 2000, a wonderful thing happened: a couple of our volunteers, who had previously adopted another senior dog from us, became interested in the possibility of adding Oreo to their family.

Jack and Stormi Brake adopted Oreo on January 4, 2001. That was really his second birthday, because for the next 2-1/2 years, he was able to live and play like a normal Sheltie. The Brakes continued his weight loss program, and Oreo recovered to the point that he was walking up on his paws again, running and playing with his Sheltie sister Abby, and even climbing stairs!

Oreo contracted lymphoma this year, and that battle was one with impossible odds. But all of us who met him will remember this sweet, gentle giant with fondness and be grateful for how happy his last few years were.

BEATTY

On October 24, 2003 Beatty's foster mom, Sandy, decided it was best to say goodbye to Beatty. We know nothing of Beatty's life before the spring of 2003. He may have been more than 15 years old when he found himself lost and ending up in a local animal shelter. Sandy agreed to take Beatty to foster and I think it we all knew it was unlikely he could find a home.

Sandy cared for Beatty over the summer and loved him as if he were her own. We were glad to give you a safe and loving place during your last months. Foster mom Sandy, we thank you.

Rest in peace, Beatty

TIRA

Indiana Sheltie Rescue is remembering and celebrating the life of our rescued sheltie #233, Tira, today. We are also thinking of her wonderful foster family, Jan and Mike Padgett, who stood by Tira's side during her illness and while she was in the care of our rescue program. June 16, 2004, Tira lost her battle with cancer. It all began when a little young adult stray female sheltie ended up at Indianapolis Animal Care and Control in October 2003. We were asked to take her and the Padgetts stepped up to foster and care for her until an adoptive home was located. They named her Tira. When receiving routine medical care it was discovered that Tira had cancer which had already spread and was terminal.

From that day on, the Padgetts treated Tira as if she were their own dog. They saw to it that Tira got to go to training classes, our 2003 Reunion, many outings and had the opportunity to chase and fetch as many tennis balls as possible for the time Tira had left. Until just a few days ago, Tira faced each day with tennis ball chasing gusto! We extend our gratitude to the Padgetts for all they have done for us and for Tira. I am sure that Tira is up in doggy heaven chasing tennis balls with a new healed body now!

JOSIE

Three years ago, a beautiful blonde Sheltie named Jolynn came to stay at the Bare's Den. We met her at an ISR outing & it was love at first sight. She immediately came over & sat with Spencer. They were best Buddy's. Never any trouble, loved everyone including her adopted & foster brothers & sisters. She loved to run & play. Waited for hours staring at the neighbor's door, waiting for him to come outside & give her a treat. Always comical, cackling, nibbling, poking with her nose for attention. Rolling over & over out in the yard. Always smiling. Paula's velcro dog... Apple of her papa's eye. Known & loved by everyone she met, she will be missed....

Paula & Michael Bare, The Bare's Den