"Give me your tired, your poor
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free"
- Statue of Liberty -
First, no transports lately. Summer is slow in Florida rescue... this is part of the grief I am currently going through.
In Decatur Georgia sits a shelter where countless paws are pacing, waiting. Their eyes are searching for someone... even if they're not sure who. Pictures are taken and posted... this is where I saw a puppy called "Elvis."
Elvis had a lot going against him. For a start, he had "black dog syndrome" which unfortunately means he is at the top of the list to get looked over and passed by. He is one of many dogs and puppies waiting, which is another strike. He has siblings to compete for a home with, and they have one last advantage over him: they aren't scarred.
Little Elvis was apparently injured at a young age. A scar runs from his left nostril to the end of his lip, possibly where another puppy or dog bit him and pulled through. It gives him personality, and he stands tall despite being different. Most people would take one look at him, feel sick, and never look back. I visited his picture at least once a day, posted it to my profile, and admired the courageous little dog.
I couldn't admit it then, but I desperately wanted to do something for him. I have a soft spot for the little guy, the one with a disadvantage who might not be the prettiest lil guy, might not be perfect, but has heart. I never got the chance to meet Elvis, but I promise you he had heart in abundance.
One by one his siblings got moved to the adopted folder. I knew I couldn't be the one to bring him home, not yet. I'd be getting married and then what would happen? Who would watch him for the weeks I'd be away? I steeled my emotions and convinced myself that maybe, if he was still there when we came back, I might be able to make it work.
Returning home from the trip I quickly logged on and went to the folder where his picture had been... HAD... been. He wasn't there. For a moment my heart skipped a beat, could it be someone had adopted him? I excitedly switched over to the adopted folder, but no Elvis. Maybe they hadn't updated it yet. I waited.
The next day I went back and clicked both folders- no Elvis. I have been checking now for over a week and now must face the fact that other dogs have been moved to the adopted folder, Elvis has not. He probably never will... unfortunately, he was the underdog. Underdogs don't go home without help. They sit, and wait, and wait, and finally someone comes for them and leads them out. They wag their tails, happy to have attention, and follow joyfully as they are led away from their cage. They will not come back. I am sure that little Elvis was brave and courageous to the last, but that is just it... it was probably his last.
I have finally posted, asking the question I almost certainly know the answer too.... quietly daring to hope that maybe they just forgot to add him to the adopted or rescued folders... but in reality, there are very few people who want a maimed little black puppy. I could have been his chance but I wasn't able, and now I mourn his little life... all 9 or 10 weeks of it...
How many more must face Elvis's fate?
For now I will continue on and wait to see if an answer ever comes. I'll be the one who roots for and loves the underdog and hopefully, one day I will be the one to walk the underdog out of his cage and into freedom. Until then, I will mourn little Elvis and let his memory drive me to do better, to save more lives, to get people to spay and neuter, to educate owners, and to pray for the day when others won't face his fate.
"Give me your tired, your poor
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free"
- Statue of Liberty -
I love you Elvis... and I am so sorry.
