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Peanut

A Tribute to Peanut

 I remember when I picked you up at the airport.  You were so tiny, just a little bundle of fur.  Your parents loved you so much that they turned you over to Puppymillrescue in hopes of you getting the medical care you needed.  When I left with you, your daddy cried, because he loved you so much.  I came to love you as much, how could I not, with your zest for life?  Everyone who knew you or saw your cute little face, fell in love with you. 

 When we saw Dr Ducote, not only did you have Atlantoxial Instability but you had Hydrocephalus (water on the brain)  She said that you were too tiny to do any surgery on, she said to take you back home and see if I could get some weight on you and to bring you back in a month.  Your prognosis was very guarded. What a month that was.  With your neck brace and with Prednisone you ate and grew from a one pound puppy to a 2 pound 6 oz happy go lucky puppy. 

 You learned to play and run around, learned to bite my toes, chew on shoe laces and wood work, you would get a toy and shake it for what it was worth; you loved green beans, treats, rolling around in the beds, and so many other things.  You put up with me taking hundreds of pictures of your cute little face.  If I wasn’t getting your food ready fast enough, you would bark and bark and bark at me, telling me “Mom, you aren’t moving fast enough.  Hurry up, I’m starving”. 

 I would watch you chase Mini Mouse around trying to bite her little leg and she would quack at you to stop it, but nope not you, you would keep it up until she really gave it to you. 

 You were so easy to potty train.   I would put you on the pee pad and tell you “Peanut Pee Pee”, you would stand there and look at me and I would tell you again and then you would pee.  One day I noticed went running across the room with those short little legs of yours, I got up and followed you, you went to the pee pad and peed.  You were such a good girl.   

You would stand guard at the back door when your fur siblings went outside.  You were waiting for Coty Bear to come back inside; he is always the last one to come back in the door.  You would pounce on him and he never once growled at you, he just let you do it.  I use to tell you to watch out because one day Coty Bear would bite your nose for doing that, but it never stopped you and he never did.   I just had to watch and laugh at you.

 Peanut, I am so sorry that because people are so greedy for the all mighty dollar and people want a “cute teacup yorkie”, or “pocket purse puppy” that you were bred and had so many health problems and could only live 7 short months.  It was so unfair because you should have lived a very long time in your own forever home.  I am so glad that I got to love you for the short time you were here.  Know that we will continue to save little ones like you in your name.  God Speed little one, know that you are badly missed and I thank you for the laughter and joy that you brought into my life.   

Love Foster Mom,

Jackie P.

Haley

Mid November 2005, Haley was diagnosed with severe gall stones.  Haley underwent surgery to remove the multiple stones from the gallbladder and liver.

JEWEL

HOPE

My beloved Hope died yesterday in my arms. I adopted her from PMR in 2001 when she was 10 years old and loved her very much. She had Inflammatory Bowel Disease and despite all the veterinary specialist could do, she continued to fail. It was the hardest decision to make but it was time to let her go.

I had the privilege of watching her go from a scared little girl who hid in her bed to a happy busy little dog. There is definitely an empty place in my life without her. I want to thank PMR for trusting me with this little life. She gave me great joy.

Annette Stollman

Morgan

Kelsey was born and raised in a puppy mill. She
produced litter after litter in the worst of
environments until her body was no longer able.
Perhaps the first real kindness shown to her was the
day she was granted freedom and delivered to John and
I. Thank you, Aunt Jan, for that.

Kelsey arrived in our home in a damaged little body,
both inside and out. Over time, we discovered that
Kelsey had sustained neurological damage from blows to
the head. Things that come naturally to a dog were
beyond Kelsey's ability. She did not bark for many
months. When she first tried, she made sounds I had
never heard from a dog. Gradually, she started trying
to mimic Lexi's barks. She learned that her voice had
a purpose and a meaning and she began to look at us
when she barked and we knew that she was trying to
tell us something specific.

It took a year, but she finally learned her name.

Unfortunately, as Kelsey - the real Kelsey, the gentle
and loving little girl - struggled to come to the
surface and introduce herself, another side emerged.
Without warning, Kelsey began to attack Lexi - almost
always when Lexi was asleep with her back to Kelsey.
We learned that this was not a behavior issue, but
something more like a seizure. Lexi caught on quicker
than we did. Instead of being angry or afraid of
Kelsey following an attack, Lexi wanted to check on
Kelsey and make sure she was okay. She seemed to know
that Kelsey did not mean to hurt her.

John and I sought help from everyone we could think
of: doctors, specialists, behaviorists, rescue
people with more experience. We tried medications,
time outs, supervision, patience, but nothing seemed
to help. Kelsey simply could not control the
behavior.

Wednesday evening I came home from work to my worst
nightmare. Kelsey's demons attacked and Morgan paid
with her life. Morgan was gone. The kitchen was a
bloody mess. Kelsey was curled up in a bed in the
corner barely able to stand. Lexi and McKenna were
outside calling for help that did not come. As the
night went on, Kelsey slipped farther and farther
away. Her eyes were glazed over and unable to focus.
By the next day she could not walk, hold her head up,
open or close her eyes or mouth all the way. She had
lost control of her body and looked out from deep
within in despair. I bathed her one last time,
dressed her in her favorite t-shirt and a pretty pink
hair bow and held her close. John and I took her to
the park to have some quiet time. Kelsey loves
tortilla chips. So, John brought chips and Kelsey
crunched chips, her favorite snack. Even though she
had trouble swallowing them, we let her crunch away to
give her one last bit of joy.

By the time we got to Dr. Carroll's office, Kelsey was
slipping faster. With tears in his eyes, Dr. Carroll
noted that we wore matching shirts. Kelsey ended her
time here in her mommy's loving arms looking up in the
loving eyes of her mommy and her daddy. We each
whispered that we love her and John introduced her to
Chandra. And we said good-bye to the second little
girl in as many days.

She's gone.

But she will never be forgotten. Kelsey, who was
passed over and left behind until it was too late,
deserves to have her story told.

Kelsey was born to be a loving little girl. She tried
so hard to live up to her Yorkie destiny. It was not
God's design or even poor breeding or poor diet that
caused Kelsey to lash out. Kelsey's body
lashed out and she simply could not control it. She
was not angry or enraged; she was simply not herself.
The cause was intentional, repetitive abuse at the
hands of a human. Kelsey was struck in the head hard
enough to permanently damage brain cells and cause a
condition that continued to deteriorate more than a
year after she was released. Kelsey was not angry and
did not seek revenge. She simply lost the ability to
control her body. It would not do what she wanted and
she was powerless to stop it from doing that which she
did not want. Kelsey loved Morgan and would never
hurt her. Yes. Morgan was killed. But not by
Kelsey. Kelsey's demons killed both our girls.

Hitting a ten-pound dog locked in a tiny cage with a
board is nothing less than evil. There is no
justification for that kind of behavior. It is not
self-defense. It is not acceptable. It is not
anyone's right. It is reprehensible.

It is easy to ignore, forget or disbelieve the horrors
of a puppy mill dog's past when you are staring in the
face of a beautiful little girl wearing a pink t-shirt
and fancy hair bow. People see our girls lined up
looking all pretty and healthy and spoiled and well
behaved and they smile think how pretty they are.
They don't see them flinch when their daddy reaches to
pick them up or their food crunches too loudly. They
don't know that Kelsey had nightmares that resulted in
bloodshed. They don't know that Kelsey had to work
harder and longer for the simplest of things. They
don't know that the truth is Kelsey was given too
little too late.

We think it admirable, and it is, to rescue a dog - to
choose a damaged adult instead of a perfect puppy.
But I beg each of you to remember that inside that
precious little face may be a time bomb waiting to
explode and claim one or more lives. There are things
I wish I had done differently, but I honestly believe
we did the best anyone could have done for Kelsey.
NEVER would we have left her behind or turned our
backs on her. I looked and looked for signs that
Kelsey was having a bad day, or about to go after her
sister, but there were no visible signs. They say
hindsight is 20/20, but that is not always true. Some
things remain hidden.

I still encourage people to adopt a rescue, but please
do so with open eyes as well as an open heart.
Understand that not all the damage they suffer can be
seen with the naked eye. Sometimes it is hidden and
sometimes it cannot be repaired or reversed. Some of
the damage can be repaired and PMR pups show us daily
just how resilient they are. I only wish humans had
the same capacity for forgiveness. But we can never
make them truly whole. Each little life we manage to
save bears scars from a horrific past.

Am I suggesting that we failed, Kelsey? No. Kelsey
was happy and loved. But, I made a mistake by leaving
her unsupervised on Wednesday. Maybe I waited too
long to make that last appointment. I don't know.
But, I just couldn't bring myself to give up on her.

We couldn't make Kelsey whole, but we did our best to
show her love. In that we succeeded. Kelsey
understood that she was loved and she was happy. She
had the biggest smile of all our girls.

Jan wrote that my faith is strong. Sometimes.
Sometimes my faith is tested, and this has certainly
tested it. But, I KNOW with all of my being that God
is the only One who knew in advance what would happen
and when and He was the only One Who could really
change the outcome. For whatever reason, He chose not
to do so. If I am not to blame God, then how can I
blame myself when I could not have known? I may have
to remind myself of this several times over the days
and weeks and years ahead. But, for now, I believe
it. Maybe Cindy is right and Morgan heard God's voice
when I could not and did what needed to be done in
order to grant Kelsey true
freedom.

I want to thank each and every one of you, dear
friends, for your prayers and words of encouragement
and support and love. We are truly blessed - blessed
to have such wonderful little ones, wonderful
families, remarkable friends. We are blessed, and oh
so thankful, that Lexi and McKenna were spared. We
are blessed to have loved and been loved by Kelsey.
And we are blessed to have been attacked by the little
monster under the bed with the ferocious growl and
poopy breath. These two little girls touched a lot of
lives in their short time with us and each girl left a
lasting impression. We miss them. We will always
miss them. But I wouldn't trade the joy of having
them for anything, including the chance to avoid the
pain of losing them. They were worth that and so much
more.

God bless you my friends, and may God's gentle hand
continue to hold and shelter each and every life we
hold dear.

Dana
Mommy to
Chandra Leigh Tyler Bates (9/19/1990 to 7/28/2004)
Sir Charles of Quinn (born 1/02/2000 and ours from
the beginning)
Lexi Anne Bates (adopted from YTRN on 9/12/2004
Kelsey Doodle Bug Bates (Ours, thanks to PMR, from
Oct. 2004 to 11/17/2005)
Morgan Elizabeth Bates (Ours, thanks to PMR, from
April 2005 to 11/16/2005)
McKenna Angelea Bates (Ours, thanks to PMR, since
5/06/2005)

Zoey 11 months

It is with a heavy heart that I am sending this last posting about Miss Muffin.

On August 5th, Miss Muffin went to the Rainbow Bridge, not because she wanted to, but because years of neglect had their toll on her poor used up body. 8.5 years of living in a cage and producing puppy after puppy has taken it toll. Her cancer returned and spread to her lungs and bones. There was nothing we could do for her except keep her comfortable in her final days.
We are heartbroken that we have lost our flower child. Miss Muffin's favorite spot in this world was underneath the flowers in the garden. She was content to lay out in the sun enjoying her freedom.
It is tragic to us that we were only able to give her 4.5 months with us here. I expected more, wanted more for her and for us, and she needed more to make up for all the years she suffered. She taught us all about quiet, gentle love, with just a lick or gentle gaze. She enjoyed her freedom as best she could with the images of her horrible beginnings always in her mind. I have always said, she is happy in her world, not the happy playful puppy world she should have lived in, but the world that she could handle as best she could.
So my precious baby is now with all the other furkids, Jordan, Precious, Barbie Doll,etc that left us to early, all because of inhuman treatment and greed. She is not afraid or scared or lonely anymore. Thunderstorms don't scare her anymore and she does not shake or tremble anymore.
But she is so missed and will there will always be a part of my heart that aches for her.
This last picture of Miss Muffin was sent to me by a special friend of mine; she knows how much this means to me.

Carol S
Mom to PMR Miss Muffin (1996-2005) My beautiful Flower Child

Muffin has a webpage click here to read her story