Retired Retrievers

When we brought Goldie into our program we thought we were taking on a hospice case. Our friends at Jasper Animal Rescue Mission in Ridgeland, South Carolina, reached out for help in July 2015 after Goldie ended up in their shelter when her human passed away. We went to the shelter to meet Goldie and agreed with the shelter staff’s evaluation. This sad old dog didn’t have much time left and she needed a loving home where she could live out the rest of her days.

The only problem was, we had nowhere for Goldie to go. We were overflowing with dogs at our home base, and all of our potential hospice homes were already full. We promised Goldie that we would be back for her as soon as we could, and then we put out a plea on our Facebook page and hoped for the best. In the meantime, the kind folks at JARM moved Goldie into the office and let her be their office dog so she didn’t have to stay in an outdoor run (The staff at Jasper Animal Rescue Mission (JARM) are the best. They have huge hearts!).

We posted Goldie a few times without much luck and were starting to lose hope when we received an email from a woman named Judy. Judy wrote a really nice email and provided a lot of information about herself and her living situation so we could decide if this might be a good fit for Goldie. She also explained that after sharing 14 years with her Black Lab, Aspen, she lost Aspen very quickly to cancer in 2009 and thought she would never be able to love another dog again. That is, until she saw Goldie’s face on our Facebook page.

“When I first saw her picture I was instantly drawn to her sweet face,” Judy says. “I felt the need to make her life, how ever short it would be, as peaceful and comfortable as I possibly could. Little did I know that was all she needed to bring out the puppy in her once more. I am grateful not for what I can do for her but for what she has done and continues to do for me every day. The gift of her faithful love and companionship came at a time when I truly needed it the most. It seems I need her as much as she needs me.”

Judy and Goldie have been inseparable since the afternoon of Monday, August 3, 2015, when we brought Goldie over to Judy’s house to do a home visit. These two souls were meant to cross paths. In addition to Judy, Goldie also now shares her life with Sophia, the kitten, and with Judy’s 5-year old grandson, Lucas, who visits often. As has happened with a few other dogs we have known, once Goldie realized that she was safe and loved, she decided she wanted to stick around for awhile.

Goldie is not the “hospice” dog we all thought she was. And, Judy recently discovered that Goldie has a very unique gift. Here is an excerpt from a recent email that Judy gave us permission to share: 

“Goldie, it seems, has a very unique talent. I am a brittle diabetic. I make no insulin which means I take a large amount of insulin to control my blood sugar. Although I am fairly well controlled there are times when my blood sugar goes a bit crazy and will spike very high. I often won’t pick up on the signs as it does tend to alter one’s ability to think straight and many times it will happen during sleep. If it’s not a normal time that I take my blood sugar it will go unnoticed by me…but Goldie seems to respond to the change.

Her whole demeanor changes. She gets my attention by very forcefully hitting my arm with her paw. If I am sleeping and that doesn’t work she will jump up on the bed, panting as if anxious and continue to forcefully hit me until I wake up while standing over me. She will stay in my face (so to speak) and watch until I have taken my blood sugar. When I uncap my insulin I can see that she smells the insulin. Then she won’t leave my side, curling up next to me usually with her head in my lap until she seems to be satisfied that I am okay. I noticed this behavior from her around October – November of last year. At first I thought it was just coincidence but she is very consistent with this behavior. She becomes very persistent when my blood sugar is greater then 500.”

We are grateful to Judy for opening up her heart to Goldie and for being willing to provide what she thought was going to be end of life care. That is an incredibly selfless act. And we are beyond thrilled that Goldie’s story turned out to be so much happier than expected. Judy and Goldie found each other when they needed each other the most.

 “I am so grateful to have her in my life,” Judy says. “She acts as though she is still a puppy at times so I just don’t tell her anything different.”

Because old dogs can’t speak for themselves, we need to try to decipher their stories for them. In some cases this is easier to do than in others.

We were told that when Zeke was surrendered to the shelter by his owner on New Year’s Eve he was depressed, emaciated, covered in fleas, not neutered, heartworm positive and had several tumors. This led us to create the story of a neglectful owner who willfully let this dog suffer. We found out today that we were wrong.

We found out today that the man who turned Zeke in to the shelter was an 86-year old veteran who rescued him from a bad situation with a family member. The man wanted more than anything to give Zeke a wonderful life but financial limitations made it difficult for him to provide enough food, let alone any medical care. And physical limitations made it difficult for him to care for a dog at all. He was in tears when he left Zeke at the shelter, but he was doing the only thing he thought he could do to give Zeke a chance, even if it meant losing his old friend.

When we found out about the financial issues, we offered to pay for Zeke’s food and medical care for the rest of his life so that the two of them could be reunited (Thank you to our donors for making it possible for us to even contemplate making that offer!). As it turns out, the shelter had already had that conversation with the man, who said his physical limitations and health problems made it more than a financial issue. He was physically having trouble just taking care of himself. When shelter staff called the man to let him know that Zeke would be joining us at Retired Retrievers, the man started sobbing and said, “that old dog deserves a good few last years.”

We also found out today that Zeke’s real name is Max. Shelter staff named him Zeke in lieu of not having a name, but someone who was working when Zeke arrived was also working this morning when our volunteers arrived to pick him up. They said the man was calling him Max. Okay, so Zeke is now Max. Or Max has always been Max. We were just calling him Zeke. Anyway, his real name is Max.

Max is one lucky boy. Our friends Jenn and Jessica picked him up from the shelter this morning and drove him from Edgewater, FL, to St. Augustine, FL. There he met up with Amanda and Jim, who drove him from St. Augustine to the Florida/Georgia border (This was just one of Jim and Amanda’s two volunteer transports today). We met them at the Florida/Georgia border and drove him the rest of the way to Savannah.

As is customary for all of our rescue dogs, we took Max through the McDonald’s drive-thru for his Freedom Burger on our way up I-95. We don’t typically feed the dogs fast food, but we believe that any dog who has been in a shelter for any period of time deserves to be spoiled on the day he gets out. The first day of the rest of their lives is a cause for celebration.

Today’s Freedom Burger was compliments of two adorable girls in Minnesota. Lucy and Becca sent us a Christmas card that included a McDonald’s gift card in it to be used specifically for Freedom Burgers. As you can see in the photo, Max was very appreciative of their kindness. We usually need to unwrap the burgers for the dogs and we sometimes break them into smaller pieces, but Max dove right in and helped himself. Thank you to Lucy and Becca for making this old shelter dog so happy.

What we know so far about Max is that he is a very sweet boy who deserves a family of his own. We think he is 8-9 years old. He seems to be housebroken. He rides well in the car. He gets along with other dogs. Despite his health issues, which are all fixable, he is in really great shape. He’s going to make a wonderful companion for someone. And he’s already handsome, but once he gets some weight on him and a little TLC he is going to be gorgeous.

Thank you to Jenn, Jessica, Amanda, and Jim for spending part of their weekend helping an old dog get a second (or third) chance at happiness. And thank you to the staff and veterinarians at the Edgewater Animal Shelter for taking such great care of Max and making sure he gets to enjoy his retirement years.

If you would like to help cover the costs of Max’s medical care, please click here to donate. And we are still looking for a foster home in the Savannah area; if you think this could be you please email us at suzanne@retiredretrievers.org to discuss.

Welcome to the Retired Retrievers family, Max. We’re so glad you’re here!

She may not be a retriever, but she is definitely retired. When we saw Button’s shelter picture online we just couldn’t look away. She is 13 or 14 (or a million) years old and has cataracts, dental disease, missing teeth, a hernia, and mammary tumors. She was also covered in ticks.

The shelter said that Button was picked up as a stray, but she couldn’t have gotten very far on her own. Based on the condition she was in, we have a feeling she may have been used by a backyard breeder to produce some very expensive Shih Tzu puppies and then dumped when she became too old to be valuable to them.

Fortunately for Button and for us, there are some really great people in the world. We reached out to our friend Wendy to ask for help and then everything started falling into place for Button’s rescue.

Button was at a shelter in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and we are in Savannah, Georgia, so we couldn’t just hop in the car and go get her. Wendy was out of town, but she asked her friends Ellis, David, and Eryn to coordinate getting Button out of the shelter and safely to Eryn’s house.

Eryn loved and cared for Button for a few days until we could move her to Savannah. She also coordinated Button’s spa day which we know had to make her feel better. The folks at Kritters with a K made Button look, feel and smell wonderful. In the meantime, Wendy coordinated an all-volunteer transport to help Button get to Savannah today.

She started her morning in Fort Lauderdale with Eryn and Wendy and then met up with Lori who drove her to Palm Beach Gardens. Ellen picked Button up in Palm Beach Gardens and drove her to meet Stefani in Vero Beach. Stefani drove her to Cocoa Beach, where she met up with Jessica and Jenn. They drove her to Daytona Beach, where she met up with Ron, who drove her to St. Augustine to meet up with Jim and Amanda. They drove her to Yulee where she met up with us and our friend Cheryl, and we brought her home to Savannah.

Every single one of us who met Button today and helped with her transport fell in love with this fragile old dog. We don’t know what her life was like before Wednesday of this week, but we know what her life will be like from here on out: for whatever time she has left, Button will know nothing but love and happiness. She will see our friends at Central Animal Hospital on Monday and we will make sure she gets all of the care she needs. If you would like to support Button’s recovery, please click here to make a tax-deductible donation.

Thank you to Just Jack’s Rescue for coordinating Button’s release from the shelter. Thank you to Eryn for welcoming Button into her heart and home this week. Thank you to all of Button’s transport drivers for spending part of their weekend helping an old dog. And thank you to Wendy for coordinating all of this and for always being there when we – and the animals – need her.

We look forward to posting more Button updates very soon.

Editor’s Note: This is a guest post written by Al Steuber, father of Sadie Steuber. Click here to read a previous post about this wonderful family: https://retiredretrievers.org/2014/11/30/sadiesretirementhome. And click here to see their interview on WTOC Mid-Morning Live: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdTGvhbGipw.

Empty No More
By Al Steuber

When we opened the foyer door that painful August afternoon I knew she wouldn’t be there. The emptiness was confirmation. Allie’s gone.

A foyer greeting had been her trademark. No matter that one of us remained, when the other left Allie camped in front of the foyer door until the person returned to receive his or her hind end wiggling, tail wagging greeting. We endured an empty foyer for six long weeks and it may have continued to this day but for our daughter Amy, a savior named Suzanne (more later) and the grace of God.

I’ve told the story elsewhere – Amy’s web search, my initial rejection, my inexplicably tapping out an email to Suzanne, our test visit with a rescue dog found wandering without ID in a Food Lion parking lot. Not a test really, an instant love affair.

Amy visited last week, the first time since she set this wonderful chain of events in motion. It was her first visit with Sadie and they bonded immediately. If I didn’t know it couldn’t be true I’d think Sadie sensed Amy’s role in her life…….it couldn’t be, could it? After four days together Amy concluded there was absolutely no room for improvement, said “I love my dog but I’d take her home in a heartbeat” and added “I think you should rename her Flawless.”

Sadie’s been a family member for seven months now and has settled in to a routine as predictable as a metronome. Her day begins when I sense a thump on my side of the bed as she slaps a paw near my head. If I open my eyes I’m looking into hers. If I don’t, she soon removes her paw and that’s the last I hear from her, displaying a characteristic repeated multiple times each day: patience.

When I do get up she’s at my side knowing breakfast is about to follow which has its own routine. With her dish on the floor I pour in the first cup of kibble with one hand while trying to fend off her head with the other. She quickly wins and begins inhaling the first cup as I pour in the other. By the time I get her incontinence pill out of the bottle to drop in her food the dish is usually empty. She’s an eating kamikaze!

She follows me to the kitchen and takes up her favored position lying just at the entryway giving me the best chance of tripping over her as I exit with my orange juice. Then she lies in front of me without complaint as I turn on the TV, check my email and finish my orange juice. Mind you she has not emptied her bladder for at least twelve hours and she’s ten years old! Not until I leave my chair does she show any sign of impatience, hurrying toward the door. Even then, and this is something Amy remarked on, unlike many dogs who push you aside as they bolt through the door she waits to be invited.

Then comes one of my most appreciated performances, her marshes toilet. Not immediately. First she sniffs and pees several places and several times, even partially lifting her leg occasionally in comic imitation perhaps of something she has observed? Then she trots along the edge of the marsh making partial entries until making her final selection where she disappears exiting somewhere else down the line. She trots back to me expecting and receiving her treat, one of her three daily glucosamine tablets. This habit, the marshes toilet, is one of two uncommon performances she shares with her predecessor, Allie.

Next comes my breakfast, usually an English muffin which, like all of our meals she expects to share, her head containing a food magnet. She lies in front facing me never taking her eyes off my movements. When down to the last bite of the first muffin she stands and waits, again patiently, knowing that piece belongs to her. After taking it none too daintily she resumes her lying-in-wait position knowing we’re only half done. Gulping her last bite she whirls, almost as if choreographed and trots into the bedroom.

Thus begins, for me, her most heartwarming performance, uncannily similar to Allie. She tucks herself as close to the bed as she can beneath mom and stays there until mom gets up, sometimes three or more hours later. This time I won’t say “as if” but “because” she senses a need. Especially as mom declines cognitively Sadie’s presence beside her chair, hand resting on Sadie’s head, is one unchanging constant in mom’s world. That Sadie returns the affection makes the bond complete.

With all the bonding description given to Sadie and mom I don’t want to leave the impression she treats me as a potted plant and food stop. During her morning bedside vigil she occasionally comes out and stands in front of me for a pet before returning. I’m pretty sure this is her way of assuring me I’m not forgotten. She’s much too sensitive to people’s feelings to do otherwise. Occasionally too she leaves mom’s chairside to join me when I’m in my den.

I often ponder Sadie’s background and wonder how anyone could part with such a complete and loving dog. She’s obviously trained, well socialized with people and other dogs. She’s already become a favorite with neighbors (the dog aware type) and staff. I marvel too at the brief moment in time when the stars were aligned. She was only in foster care for two weeks.

As a family we are whole again. We open the door in happy anticipation knowing the foyer is empty no more.

Retired Retriever Rescue
This story is incomplete not mentioning a remarkable lady without whom there would be no story. When my daughter searched the Internet she was surprised to find an organization in this small city that seemed to fit her search requirements precisely: older Labrador retrievers. My daughter, Amy, presumed the person who responded to her inquiry, Suzanne, was a spokesperson for the organization. Turns out she was the spokesperson but much, much more. Suzanne Mooney IS Retired Retriever Rescue. Along with what I presume to be a supportive husband she takes in and houses old retrievers herself, searches out foster caretakers, participates in rescue chains accepting dogs from other states, attends adopt-a-dog fairs, solicits donations thanking each donor personally, publishes a blog and maintains a Facebook presence. You get the picture. Now for the kicker – she also holds down a full time job! I don’t know how she does it but then, as I pointed out, she is one remarkable lady.

We’ve said goodbye to a few members of our Retired Retrievers family recently. In the last few weeks, we’ve lost both of our polar bears, Noah and Gus. We’ve lost Lincoln, our yellow lab from South Florida. And just last week we lost Toby, our 14-year old yellow lab who spent most of his life on a chain in rural Georgia. In the not so distant future we also anticipate losing Jake, our ancient three-legged Beagle. Recent x-rays showed a mass on Jake’s liver. We’re doing what we can to keep him comfortable until it’s time to let him go.

It’s been said that the only thing wrong with dogs is that they don’t live as long as we’d like them to. In our case, that statement gets multiplied exponentially because we rescue dogs who are already nearing the end of their lives. Sometimes we have days or weeks with them. Usually we have months. If we’re lucky we have a few years. Because we experience loss so frequently, it’s easy to forget one very important truth:

Every single one of our stories is a success story. 

It may not always feel like that, but it’s true. The important thing isn’t how much time we have with our dogs. The important thing is how much love and joy we fit into that time.

Although we shed tears for each and every dog we lose, we also recognize the beauty in a community of animal lovers coming together to pick up the pieces and mend a dog’s broken heart after someone else has failed them. Because of our Retired Retrievers family – especially our fosters, adopters, and donors – our dogs don’t die scared and alone in shelters like they would have without our help. Instead, they gently cross the Rainbow Bridge being held by someone who loves them after having experienced the best days, weeks, or months of their lives.

And that is why, even when we say goodbye, we consider every story a success story. Our dogs cross the Rainbow Bridge knowing that they matter, knowing what it’s like to be part of a family, and knowing what it’s like to love and be loved. We’ll always wish for more time – there will never be enough time – but knowing that we fit as much love and joy as we could into the time we had is all that really matters.