Thursday, January 8, 2015

A Mother Who Loses Everything Teaches Us This Lesson


I think if rescue had a tagline, it would be this:

ANIMAL RESCUE
We fix problems other people created.

On most days, however, the wording is much more expletive-filled, followed by copious amounts of wine and uncontrollable sobbing.  It takes a tremendous amount of trudging through heartbreak, B.S., obstinance, ignorance, greed, and apathy to unearth one small nugget of triumph that gives us enough hope to keep going.  This little nugget's name is Cajun.


When we at Mazie's first laid eyes on her, she was not the happy-go-lucky lady you see before you now.  Her circumstances were about as dire as they get for shelter dogs.  See, when we came across her picture, she looked like this:

She was:  (Can I get a drum roll here?)
* Pregnant
* A pregnant "big black dog"
* A pregnant "big black dog" that happened to be a pit bull mix
* A pregnant BBD pit mix in a small town "kill" shelter
* A pregnant BBD pix mix in a kill shelter with less than 12 hours before her EU time.

Anything else?  Oh, yeah, once we pulled her, we learned she had BB's embedded in her skin where some glorious human had shot at her and she was heartworm positive.

She had Mazie's Mission written all over her.  Mange dogs and old, blind, crippled dogs have a better chance of making it out of a shelter alive (in my own limited experience) than this dog.  We had her less than two weeks before she started showing signs of labor.  Her foster was beside herself with glee at the prospect of puppy breath.  Plus pits are like crack to her so the idea of of a gaggle of pit puppies was like a kid at Christmas x1,000,000.  It looked on x-ray like there would be seven.  If you'll recall the tale of the X-Men puppies, I was also told there would be seven and mama dog kept pumping out puppies til the nice round number of twelve.  (Someone stop putting quarters in this machine!!!)  I relish any opportunity to give Erin a hard time about this.

The Saturday she went into labor, there was a puppy watch party and spirits were running high.  On Sunday morning I sent Emily a text asking about the status because I figured I would have gotten puppy pics all through the night.  She said there were two beautiful blue pit babies, but that they were both still born.  My heart felt like it sank all the way to the earth's core.  She also said labor had stopped and if there wasn't any progress by noon, Erin would have to do a c-section to try to save the rest of the litter.  They were about to head up to the clinic to wait.  I asked if I could bring them some food and moral support.  I don't know why the acceptable thing to do when death is experienced is to bring food.  Maybe it's just because people want to do SOMETHING but since there isn't anything to heal that pain, we bandaid it with food.  "I know you've suffered a great loss.  Let me bring you a casserole." Maybe it's a southern thing.  Either way, I didn't have time for casseroles, so they got bean burritos from Taco Bueno and two bottles of wine.   

When I got to the clinic, Emily and Cajun were both on a blanket on the floor.  Two tiny lifeless bodies were half-hidden under a fold in the blanket.  "She freaks out if I try to take them away from her," said Emily.  Their skin was shiny from her constant licking.  Occasionally she would nudge them with her nose, as if confused as to why they weren't nursing.  I can count on one hand the things I've seen in this life that have been sadder than that.

Normally when dogs give birth, there is a visible jostling as the puppies arrange themselves in a line toward the birthing canal, and then everything goes very still.  The tiny beings wait in silent salute as a sibling marches alone toward life and breath and light.  Meanwhile the mama is straining, her tail involuntarily flicking to the side in a rhythmic manner.  But from what we could tell, none of this seemed to be happening.  Erin gave her a shot of Oxytocin and pulled out a pocket ultrasound machine that someone had donated.  It was a little battery operated box with a wand attached to the end.  She applied some lubricant and started the search on Cajun's belly.  Suddenly, we heard a faint flutter and someone close by started chopping massive amounts of onions because our eyes were instantly leaking.  "Let's get them out."


Erin and Emily started prepping for surgery and I heated up a microwaveable heating pad and started gathering towels and setting up a makeshift puppy box.  She gave us instructions as she administered sedation, saying that once Cajun was under, we had to be lightening fast.  Some of the sedation would make it's way to the puppies, so we had to get them out all at once.  She told us to feel for a heartbeat immediately, break the sac and stimulate them to breathe.  Emily pulled out Cajun's long, pink tongue, inserted the breathing catheter, picked up her limp body and bolted from the wet table to the surgical table while I scrambled behind her with the IV tower.


Feel for the heartbeat, break the sac, stimulate to breathe.  Erin started cutting and the sight and coppery smell of fresh blood that would normally make me queasy only fed my adrenaline as I prepped the towels to catch puppies.  Feel for the heartbeat, break the sac, stimulate to breathe.  Emily and I stood with knees bent and hands gloved, our arms outstretched, ready.  Erin gently lifted the womb from Cajun's abdomen and I could see two puppy-sized lumps.  Heartbeat, sac, stimulate. Her scalpel made it's way through membranes and tissue and I heard her mumble, "Why is it so thick?"  Heartbeat, sac, stimulate.

As soon as Erin got through the uterine wall layers it was apparent why labor had stopped, and why the first two had been still born.  Dark, mucilaginous matter told the story of an infection that had claimed the babies, probably a day or two prior.  Their tiny bodies had already broken down, and their existence, so painfully brief, had been returned to the ether.  My feet felt nailed to the floor and any adrenaline I had left vanished and gave way to hot tears pricking the corners of my eyes.  I was frozen in this position, waiting to catch a pitch that was never going to be thrown.

No puppies for Cajun. 

Erin finished the spay surgery and stitched Cajun up.  I put away the heating pad and broke down the empty makeshift puppy box.  Emily started cleaning instruments.  We didn't speak much.  The heartbeat we heard with the pocket machine had been a combination of Cajun's abdominal aorta and our own desperation.  Those sad things I said I can count on one hand?  Add this to the list.

We decided that we would look for some orphaned puppies to try and salvage something good from all of this.  We knew that Cajun would wake up from anesthesia looking for her babies.  We posted the sad news on Facebook and said that if anyone had some bottle babies, that we would be glad to take them.  For several days we combed shelter intake pages looking, but found nothing.  I didn't have any idea how long Cajun would continue to produce milk without puppies, but I didn't figure it was very long.  Hope was fading.

Then on Wednesday, Emily sent me a text saying that bottle babies had been found!  Someone in Fort Worth had seen our post.  A drug addict had a dog who had given birth and then disappeared (?).  There were originally six, but after failing to feed them properly and watching several of them die, he was ready to relinquish them to the neighbor who had been begging to take them.  They were emaciated, covered in fleas and hoarse from crying.  Cajun still had milk and took them in immediately.  Emily said she looked at her as if to say, "Why have you been keeping them from me for so long?"  The two she had lost at the clinic were restored to her. There was a lot of "OMG" that day.  And the jerks who follow me around cutting onions were busy.

Then the next day, Emily called me and said Dallas Animal Services had a litter of two week old puppies that had been tied up in a plastic grocery bag and dumped on the ground at Kiest Park.  It was sheer luck that someone had stumbled across a moving bag on the ground and they all survived.  I doubt you will be able to think of curse words strong enough for someone who would do this, especially on a night when it is supposed to freeze.  We have been working on it ever since, and have some choice ones.  "Get me those puppies."  Aye, aye, cap'n Emily.  I emailed a tag to DAS and called the contact person, but she was at lunch.  Then Emily called back to say that another rescue, DFW Rescue Me, had already tagged them.  "BUT DO THEY HAVE A NURSING MOM?"  She didn't know, but I was determined to find out.  I sent a message to a friend named Michelle who's a volunteer of theirs and asked about it--she knew of Cajun's situation.  She helped me with email addresses and info.  I called and emailed and emailed and called...  Finally the volunteer sent me a message that said, "Jim and Erin have talked.  It's in the works."  YES.  They were even so gracious as to bring the puppies to us up at the clinic.  When rescues and shelters work together, downright magical things happen.

 Cajun finally had her family!  One of the local news stations came up to the clinic when they heard that the plastic bag puppies had a new mama.

When they got a little older, my husband went up to the clinic to and took some pics of them all together.


Those damn onion choppers hit all of us when we saw this.  When we think of adoption, most of us think of people adopting pets into their homes, but this is several steps beyond.  A mama dog who had been abandoned, shot at, on death row, and then lost all of her babies took in two different orphaned litters as her own.  We have been blessed to witness such incredible grace, and all of our hearts have been helped to heal. 

Now it's time for the fledglings to start leaving the nest.

From litter one, meet Gumbo and Jambalaya

Their mama was a boxer/lab mix, so they will grow up to be medium sized dogs.  They'll be ready for adoption the middle of this month.  You may have seen our earlier post where Gumbo sings the puppy blues.  It's is ridiculous amounts of cute.

From litter two, meet Boudin, Bayou, Bijoux, Thibideax, Boudreax and Comeaux






We originally thought they might be Rottweiler mixes because of the markings...when you get a grocery bag of tiny babies, you don't have much to go on.  At eight weeks, they are still teensy, so the rottie theory is out.  Two of them are asleep in my lap as I type this, and they have plenty of room.  They will be ready at the end of January.

Mama Cajun will have completed her heartworm treatment in February, and will then be ready for the most loving and perfect home we can find for her.

Here's where YOU come in.  We need fosters for three of the smaller puppies by the first part of next week.  Bayou, Thibideax and Boudreax need someone to crash with for a few weeks.  Could that be you?  If you want some teeny, tiny puppy breath, please email us at vet-care@maziesmission.org for info, or you can visit our website www.maziesmission.org and fill out a foster application.

By fostering, donating and even just sharing this beautiful story, you help us continue the work we so love to do.  Special thanks to Ashley at Corsicana Animal Services and everyone at DFW Rescue Me for setting such a positive example of cooperation for other rescues to follow.


XOXO and chopped onions,

---the Mazie's Mission Family


23 comments:

  1. The onion chopper visited me in Mesa, Arizona. This is a wonderful story. Bless you all, bless the puppies, and above all, bless Cajun,. What a beautiful mama.

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  2. Damn those onion choppers, they're everywhere...

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  3. Lots of onions here in Maryland, lol! Great story. Love it when the humans work together to do what's right for the animals.

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  4. God bless you and thank you for saving Maizie.

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  5. Beautiful puppies - thank you for saving them and their mommy!

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  6. ANIMAL RESCUE
    We fix problems other people created. T-shirts comming up⚠️

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    1. Pls post if u do create a tshirt. One more thing...English teacher input...it has more impact when it is parallel...iow, change "created" to "create."

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  7. Such a beautiful story!! This story is beautifully written, and as beautiful as all the staff involved in this story, past, present and future cases. Texas is a lucky state to have all at MM. I wish someday you can help other states plan and develope rescue missions and and facilities as successful as yours.. You are all such wonderful and special humans going above and beyond for the less fortunate, we all know

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  8. Wow, just wow! So poignant, beautiful, and inspiring. Kudos to all involved, especially Cajun! Continued blessings....

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  9. What a beautiful story! Thank you for everything you do for these animals :-)

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  10. That dam onion chopper visited me all the way in south africa at 1 thirty in the morning!! What what wonderful things you do, what a beautiful mommy she is, and what precious babies they are. They are all so lucky to have you!! Thank you

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  11. Little Mama Cajun will be so sad when you take her puppies away. I am always so sad for the mother's when their babies are taken and given away. It really is sad.

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  12. Wonderful outcome. I Goofawed laughed when I saw Boudreax!

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  13. I cried without onions. Will donate to your rescue. I have 3 rescues a 15 yr old York ie and my A.B.M. (service dog) or I would take a couple or all.

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  14. Thank you to all that had a hand in this remarkable outcome! Now for these furbabies happily ever after that they all deserve!!

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  15. Them onion choppers visited me too. I had to hug my pibble Shiloh

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  16. Awesomely written story. I have adopted 6 dogs, 5 cats, and 6 parrots out of room here or I would come adopt one for sure!!!!! Hope Cajun finds a fabulous home.

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  17. Y'all are terrific, and i have been so thankful you are there for those of us who do rescue as well. Thank you!

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  18. Thank you Mazie's Mission for bringing Gumbo, now named Max, to our family. We love Max so much. He is such a good puppy, and growing very fast.

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  19. The information you have posted is very useful. The sites you have referred was good. Thanks for sharing..
    Best Onion Choppers

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  20. Epilogue: We adopted Bayou and she is now a happy and healthy 4-year old in North Carolina with a big back yard, and another rescue dog as a sister. She is sweet and loving and my 2-year old grand-daughter loves to come visit and play with her. God bless you Erin and Mazies Mission.

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