Sunday, December 4, 2016

Two Years of The Tyger




Tyger Linn, in the pen.


It’s a call that has gone out, and will go out, time and time again. “Urgent”  “PTS Today” “Tomorrow will be too late” and far too often the call isn’t heard, or it’s ignored, or there just isn’t anyone at the right place at the right time. Dogs die. They die every day. They die by the hundreds and by the thousands and those who cry into the darkness waiting for the call to be heard get up and do it over and over and over again.

I’ve seen those posts. I’ve seen the photos. I’ve heard the call but at the time I had three dogs, and one of them was on his last legs, and he was not totally right in the head, at best. But there she was; a tiny brindle pit girl who had gotten into a fight at the shelter. Time had run out on her. But someone had taken a photo. Someone had called out into the internet and asked for a foster, a rescue, a home, a kennel, someone, anyone, today is the last day of her life.

A thousand years ago, maybe even further back in time than that, when I was in High School, there was a brindle Pit who visited the school, got fed pieces of sandwiches from the students at lunch, and we called her “Tiger”. There were times Tiger and I would sit beside my car in the parking lot and I would drink Jack Daniels and feed her, and she would love me. I think there were times that brindle pit was the only person who did. Now I might be the only person who loved the brindle pit.

The tiny female pit was named Tyger Linn and she came to live with me, as a foster.  On her second day here she bit me on the hand, down to the bone, when she fought with the older dog, Sam, and I realized if I told anyone Tyger had bitten me they would kill her. She hadn’t had her shots yet. Right then and there I decided that Tyger Linn would stay with me, in my home, ever it may bring. 
Official Adoption Photo


This hasn’t been easy. Tyger was damaged, belligerent, reactive, and she was afraid. Tyger was not loved. She was not kept in a warm place and given enough food. Love, home, and food, will cure damn near anything wrong with any dog.

But this isn’t about me getting a dog two years ago today. This isn’t even about Tyger Linn getting a home, and a name, and being able to chase squirrels in the woods. You see, this is all about the people who took the photo and made the call, and tried to save a dog’s life, because without those people, and those people are still there and they are still calling, this never would have happened. These people, day after day after day, try to save lives. Sometimes they fail, often they do, in fact, yet they are still on the front line of the war, and they fight like hell every day, and sometimes, they win, and this is all they ever get; a photo of a dog once on Death Row, the minutes slipping away, now sleeping on a sofa inside a warm home.
So here’s what December the fifth, 2014, was really all about. It was all about people who tried to save the life of a dog, and this time, they scored big for a little striped Pittie girl dog. The next time you read something about a dog about to die, think about the people working behind the scenes and trying to save lives. Or better yet, if you know someone working at a shelter, just walk in give them a hug, and tell them thank you. 

Tell them Tyger Linn sent you. It won’t matter if they know her or not.

For my part, I would like to thank about a dozen people, but three stand out.
Michelle, Kat, Britt, thank you.

Take Care,
Mike.

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