Hello friends,
On a Thursday evening in late February, Jules plunged into a nightmare that he would struggle hard to escape. It began when he tried to protect me by intervening in a dog fight and was viciously attacked. The brutal injuries left him at death’s door for more than a week. Over the next days, he fought for his life – somehow overcoming horrific wounds, failing liver and kidneys, anemia, blood transfusion, and reconstructive skin graft surgery. He patiently endured daily hydrations, bandage changes, and endless uncomfortable treatments. Along with the clinic staff, I and his many friends and fans marveled at his strength and will to live, remaining through it all as the same happy, loving, loveable boy we knew.

After a seeming eternity of medications, getting him to and from the clinic every day, and willing him to survive, his nightmare ended abruptly and unexpectedly on another Thursday night just six weeks later. We watched shocked and helpless on April 7th as Jules went from happy tail-wagging to death within just two hours.

We could not believe or understand it. He was healing! He was happy! He was so close to completing treatment, with just one skin graft surgery ahead of him. In a month’s time he would be repaired and ready to resume life. What did we miss? Why now?! So many people had worked day and night to help Jules survive, and never have so many people cried for one dog. Stunned, I ordered an autopsy. I had to know.

The findings were as stunning as his miracle survival. It turns out that Jules was tougher than we could have known. Even if he had been totally healthy, nothing could have been done. He had a tumor in his heart – a hemangioma sarcoma – that had already spread to his liver, lungs and kidneys. It ruptured and he bled to death internally.

I am devastated and inconsolable at his loss. He was so close to making it. I was looking forward to many more years of his goofiness. I will miss his smiling face and wagging tail and his planting his big butt in my lap for a belly rub. I will miss seeing him throwing his toys in the air with complete abandon and joy. He was such a presence that it is hard to imagine life without him.

Jules’s life was worth fighting for and I have no regrets. However, even though he is gone, his medical bills remain and must be paid. I deeply appreciate many of you who have helped me raise half of what’s needed. Please continue to help us if you can by donating any amount and sharing Jules's GoFundMe site https://www.gofundme.com/jhvjbw4s far and wide.

If you prefer, you may send a check to:  Silver Rescue,  P. O. Box 111888,  Nashville, TN   37222.  Silver Rescue is a 501(c) 3 non-profit organization and your donation is tax-deductible.  Please email [email protected] if you’d like a receipt for your donation. 

If Jules could thank you he would give you a big slobber kiss or two and then sit in your lap for a belly rub. I imagine him sitting on a big white cloud with his old and new friends, looking down on us with a big smile and his tail wagging 90 miles a minute.

Thank You for caring! Your support keeps me going.

Jules calmly sat and watched his bandages being changed every day. He never made a fuss.

Two days before his skin graft surgery we went for an ice cream run. He was so excited. He wasn’t very strong as his wounds were continuously painful, but he sat up just long enough for me to get a couple of pictures of that happy, ice cream-anticipating face. YUM! That ice-cream cone was good.

Recuperating from the anesthesia of the skin graft surgery, Sue makes sure her patient keeps warm on a heating pad and with little socks on his feet.

Hardly able to contain himself he waits impatiently for his friends to come for him. During the 2nd week after the skin graft surgery he was strong enough to walk short distances. You can see the almost cast-like bandage on his badly injured leg.

During most of his recuperation he had to be carried up and down stairs and into the car on the stretcher. Although he would have preferred to walk, Jules always endured everything calmly and with grace. I loved how he held his head high and full of interest in the world around him.

“Bye mommy. I’ll see you tonight.” I’m so glad I took this picture. It was the day before he died. He was so happy; so full of life. My heart brakes over and over when I look at this picture. He was so close to making a full recovery yet mother nature had other ideas for all of us. He was such a brave boy.

This little video https://youtu.be/dAwU2Rkzoi0 provides a glimpse into his struggle right after the skin graft surgery.For three long days, movement had to be restricted and excess pressure on his front legs avoided, to allow the blood vessels time to reconnect. Without this period of rest, the blood vessels would rupture and the brand new grafts would fail. He healed well from this and soon walked, or rather limped with pleasure on his peepoo brakes.

I learned something new last week. My very sick dog, Jules, would not take his pills. He had 9 pills to take twice a day. He took them well at first with pill pockets, or wrapped in rotisserie chicken. Then he accidentally bit into one and it was all over. He would not even eat the chicken as a treat. “Tricked once and you don’t get no more chances!!!! “ I tried stuffing the pills down his throat and he turned ‘cat’ on me. He held the pills in the back of the throat (yes I pried his mouth open to see) until I was finished stuffing them and then shook his head and slung them across the room.
I gave up. Since he had to be at the animal hospital during the day anyway I just got the staff there to deal with his sweet little Highness! To my surprise they told me they had no trouble at all with him. How could that be?!? What magic touch did they have that I did not? All of the sudden I felt very small and insignificant. How was I able not give this dog his medicine?
It turned out to be very simple:
-    Do not let your dog see you wrap the pill in a treat and then give it to him, then wrap the next pill and give that to him, wrap another …. And so on. He has too much time to think about it in between and realize that he smells a rat in Denmark. If, heaven forbid, he then also bites down on a pill, it is all over. He won’t even eat a ‘clean’ treat anymore.
-    Do wrap all the pills into a pill pocket or other treat of your or your dog’s preference and put them in a little bowl or plate. Then give them to your dog one right after the other in rapid succession before he has time to think about it. Since he was tricked before you may have to give him the first treat ‘empty’ so he can chew on it and NOT find a bitter pill. SUCCESS! Down the hatch without a problem. He just thinks about the next treat and inhales them all without having time to chew on them and finding the pill.
And that’s how you give a dog his medication.

SOS ~ Ralphie and Mojo are in desperate need of a new home. Their person has already lost her job and her house has been foreclosed. She and her dogs must be gone in one week. We have tried for months to find them a home. Is it that they aren’t puppies anymore? Is it that they have the dreaded black dog syndrome? They are young at heart, happy and healthy. They are sweet and get along well with dogs and cats and humans. Though they might be too happy and bouncy for small children, they are wonderful companion and house dogs. If you can’t adopt or foster them, please network their plight and help me find them a place to be safe and loved. Please see their individual postings here:

Ralphie – https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/33362721
Mojo - https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/34646835

Please contact me at [email protected] if you can help.

It's been a while since I wrote you about Willa. A lot has happened in the last two months and I wanted to be sure I had something positive to report.
In February, the melanoma in Willa’s ear came back with a vengeance. The chemo therapy for her mast cell tumors had to be stopped and surgery to amputate the ear had to be scheduled immediately. Half of Willa’s face and neck was shaved and if you looked real close she looks a little like she’s sporting a Mohawk. Because the tissue in the ear is very sensitive she had to wear the Elizabethan collar longer than normal. When it finally came off for good to her great relief she made a happy dance. Silly girl! Of course, we made some more glamour shots right away. We might be one beautiful ear less but we can still look like a super model!!!!

Luckily the surgery was successful and the vets feel like they got it all. We were hoping to avoid the melanoma shots but because she had two melanomas and the one on her ear came back so fast the vet didn’t want to take any chances. Melanomas are very aggressive and deadly. There will be four shots altogether over the next two months. Today she is at Blue Pearl to get the first one. I just got a call from the vet telling me that she took the shot well and that she is doing well – showing no side effects. Our little girl is a trooper, that’s for sure.

With your help we were able to pay for all the mast cell chemotherapy treatments ($2000) and $1000 toward the ear amputation. Another $1000 donation was given to Blue Pearl in honor of someone’s pet that had died of cancer, and the clinic donated it to Willa. Now, all we are left with is to raise $3000 to kill off the melanoma tumors/cells that are still a serious threat to Willa’s health. Without these shots Willa’s life is still in grave danger. Could you help us raise this remainder of Willa’s upcoming medical bills?

Thanks to you, Willa has already lived longer than originally expected (6 months). She is a happy girl, dancing and prancing with her fellow doggies and cats, and loving life. Nothing gets her down. Please help me give her the rest of her life.
You can make tax deductible contributions via:
- PayPal to [email protected]
- US Mail to Silver Rescue, P.O. Box 111888, Nashville, TN 37222
- Mail or call in donations to Blue Pearl Veterinary Partners, 3020 Mallory Lane, Franklin, TN 37067 – 615-333-1212
Please indicate that your donations are for Willa (‘with Silver Rescue’ if you call Blue Pearl directly). And, if you do donate directly via Blue Pearl, please email us so we can send you your tax deductible receipt. For details about Willa’s condition, you can call her primary veterinarian, Dr. Piper, at Grassmere Animal Hospital 615- 832-6535 or her oncologist, Dr. Pamela Lucas, at Blue Pearl 615-333-1212.
** Willa's medical bills, invoices, and estimates are readily available upon request. **

By 2002, I had been rescuing cats and managing a feral cat colony for a while. I began noticing that the food I set out for the ferals was disappearing quickly, the bowls seemingly wiped clean. The main suspects were a family of opossums, yet opossums are messy eaters. This went on for about three months until one winter day I looked out the window and spotted a big brown dog curled napping in the large cardboard box I had prepared with blankets for the ferals. I felt sorry for him and let him sleep.
The next day while I was working under my deck, a Husky came bounding into the yard and jumped on me for hugs and kisses. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Brown Dog peeking around the side of the house as if to ask, “Can I come too?" As the Husky hurried off, I invited Brown Dog to come closer. He was sweet, gentle, and HUNGRY. He ate politely from my hand, then followed the Husky into the woods. Each day after that he stopped by for a meal and a nap – sometimes in the dog house I had placed outside as “yard art”.
A friend who came by during one of Brown Dog’s visits was aghast. “Karina”, he said, “Do you know what that is?” "Yup", I said, "It's a dog." He said, "No – it’s a Pit Bull, the most dangerous dog there is." "Well" I said, "It’s too late now. He's been eating out of my hand for days.”
I put a collar on him and wrote my phone number on it big and bold, and let him run loose for a couple more days but bringing him in at night. When no one called to claim him I brought him inside for good. I walked him around the neighborhood to meet his friends and discover his hangouts. No one knew where he'd come from or who he belonged to. He had a harem of girlfriends, one of whom was the Husky, who had a home. Everyone I spoke with loved him but no one wanted to adopt him. I teared up as friends set out to help me find him a home. He was a good dog. I had wanted a dog for a long time but didn't think I could afford one. Here was the perfect dog. Why not Brown Dog?
That’s how our adventure began. When we walked through the neighborhood, children would flock to greet their old friend. I learned that he had roamed the streets for about six months. I knew people often dumped dogs in a nearby park; that was probably his story too. When I tried to train him with treats, he would curl into a fetal position and crawl to the opposite corner of the room. Someone had tried to make him into a ferocious guard dog by luring him with treats and then beating him. This gentle dog could not be made mean, which is probably why he was dumped. He was afraid of men wearing hoodies and growled to warn me when he saw them. I did not have to teach him to protect me with tricks and beatings. I just had to love him. I named this gentle brown dog Alexander the Great, because any dog who stayed so loving after cruelty and abuse was a great dog.
These photos – just a few of the thousands I took of Alex – chronicle our 11 years together.
How quickly the years slipped past! After more than a decade together, I had to acknowledge that Alex’s life was beginning to draw to a close. He had survived two episodes of Blastomycosis, losing a toe in the process. His hearing failed and several benign growths were surgically removed. When his appetite began to falter, I fed him by hand as I had done in the beginning.
Conscious of dwindling time, I took Alex with me everywhere. During our last year, we went together to a family reunion in St. Augustine, FL. Alex had never seen the ocean, and now experienced it along with the rare freedom of being off leash most of the time. He beat a hasty retreat the first time the foamy waves engulfed his feet, but by the second day he was happily splashing in the water with the family. It was the experience of a lifetime for both of us and I am so grateful to have shared it with my heart dog.
On what was to be our last day, we drove to our friend’s acreage to have some off leash time. He didn’t feel up to moving around, but we sat outside for about two hours while he watched the life going on around him. When I could see he had had enough, I lifted him back in the car. Tomorrow would come the dreaded vet visit. Alex could no longer climb the stairs, so I planned to bring a mattress downstairs to sleep with him one last night. I thought we still had a little time.
Alex passed away quietly on our way back home. Did he have a heart attack? I wonder if he knew what was happening. Was he afraid or in pain? After a year the heartache is still fresh but the other animals – the cats and dogs – need me, so I carry on. I smile when I imagine him at the Bridge waiting for me, young and healthy with all of his toes, no white on his muzzle, his hearing intact. I hope he has trails to wander and water for swimming and lots of cats and dogs for romping.
Happy Valentine’s Day, my boy!

Have you ever had a kitty relieving herself inappropriately? Outside the litter box? There are several reasons that can happen and several ways to remedy the situation. And then there is the odd case out. Perhaps there is a way but in this case I've not found it. I pride myself of understanding cat behavior but this little cat has stomped me. You see sweet Joy has cancer - lymphoma of the intestines. Her bowels are irritable and when she has to go, she has to go. She uses the litter box to pee without fail. But number 2, so to speak, is another matter. She will use the litter box before anyone else has used it. I have 6 litter boxes she has easy access to. So, you would think all basis were covered. But she is a dainty little thing and she is old now and no longer wishes to tiptoe through land mines. So, when the litter boxes become disagreeable to her she uses by bathtub. Disgusting you say? Consider this: Its a bath tub. It's easy to clean. Put a disposable glove on, get some toilet paper and wipe out the mess. If there is some residue caked on because you missed the grand event taking place, you moisten a piece of toilet paper and lay it over the, ummm, rings? Let it sit for a moment and do a small chore or use the toilet yourself. By the time you're done, the residue is soft and you can wipe it clean with ease. Keep disinfectant spray or towellets handy and wipe over the cleaned area. And there you are... The tub/shower is ready for you to use. Turn the fan on to wisp away the 'perfumes' and no one will ever know.
All joking aside, when you have a sick kitty that isn't able to deal with life as she once did but she has plenty of life left in her you have two choices, euthanize or deal with it. She won't live forever. You won't have to deal with the problem forever. She will be gone all too soon. I don't know how much time I have left with little Joy, but in her old age she is still spunky and gives me plenty of what she was named for: Joy. And that is all that matters in the end. Joy has lived well and happily with her cancer for about a year now. I hope she has another year of love to give me.

Scully is my name. Sweetness is my game. And my foster mom says I’m just wonderful. I play hard, love harder. I take treats gently with soft lips. I give sweet kisses. I want to play Frisbee with you or go on hikes with you. And then I want to snuggle in your lap. And above all, I will love you forever! For more information on how to adopt me please click here.

TidbitsI’ve been thinking for a while about adding a new column in this newsletter I will call Tidbits, because that’s what it will be: thoughts and experiences about life – not necessarily all rescue-related. Sometimes I’ll pass along a “how to” from my years of animal care, a special story, or a random thought or inspiration. My goal is to provide useful, entertaining and/or thought-provoking “tidbits” as a way to share more than just the routine day-to-day rescue needs. I’ll try to keep it brief, but I’m not known for being short winded. We’ll see.
I’ll start with the story of Silver. To many, “silver” sounds like this must be a rescue for senior dogs and cats. I’ve cared for many seniors over the years, but in fact the rescue is named for a special individual. His name is Silver, and he is the one who led me into animal rescue. This is Silver’s story.
In September 1998, I was visiting a friend who asked me to look under her deck at one of her stray cats who seemed to be seriously injured. I glimpsed a pretty gray cat, terrified and in pain, dragging his hind legs as he tried to get away from us. He had been missing for two weeks and I could only imagine his suffering as he had inched his way through the woods to reach home. When I reached for him he tried to intimidate me with the meanest, most ferocious hiss he could muster. I was naïve enough not to even consider that he might bite and scratch me, and for some reason he didn’t. Instead, once in my lap, he looked at me with his big round eyes, silently pleading for help. At that moment I fell in love, and my adventure with animals began.
Both of his hind legs had been broken in several places and by the time he made his way back to the human who fed him, the breaks had begun to knit crookedly back together. The repair called for surgically rebreaking and inserting pins into the tiny bones. Months of rehab followed, but he was a little trooper, and eventually was able to walk, run, jump and groom himself like any other cat.
My new little companion was the prettiest kitten in the world, and I knew his name had to be as beautiful and special as he was. One afternoon as he lay in my lap, the sun shone through his gray coat and turned it to silver. I had found the perfect name. Years later when I started the rescue, I thought that an animal who had endured so much suffering with so much spirit and grace was the perfect symbol. I named Silver Rescue in honor and appreciation of my beautiful friend.
I expected Silver to survive maybe five years before arthritis pain in the old injuries would make euthanasia inevitable. Fast forward - Silver is still going strong! His hind legs are a little shorter and he walks with a bit of a limp. He has a slight heart murmur and the condition of his coat signals that he is getting on in years, but our love affair continues, complete with nightly conversations and head butts.
Saving that little life lit a fire in me that has never been extinguished. A lot – happy and sad – has transpired since then and I have learned so much. I hope this column offers amusement and encouragement in your own animal ventures with assurance that you’re not alone. Here’s to the joy of loving and living with animals!