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Rescued: Duke
I was brought to the pound as a puppy. I was scared, skinny, confused, and very very hungry. All I wanted was my brothers and sisters, my mother, a warm home to cuddle, and something to eat. All I got was a tiny, cramped crate, with no food, or friends. I whimpered, but no one was there. I was all alone.
Hi, my name is Duke. I am a greyhound, from Alabama. I lived in the Alabama Animal Rescue Center for 5 years, before my owner adopted me. Those were some of the worst years of my life. I was only 5 months old when I was taken off of the streets, to the center. I know what you’re thinking, why would I wander from my sweet, warm home? I was only looking for some food, because my mother was sick, and being the oldest of the litter, I wanted to help her take care of my little brothers and sisters.
A scary man with a large net was roaming in our alleyway, and before I could run away he scooped me up and put me in an odd-smelling truck. My tiny puppy heart beat pumping so hard. Where was I going? How will I get home? What about my mother and my siblings? Tears were forming in my eyes. I realized I was being taken to a pound.
Three months later, I was situated. I was far from healthy, though. My fur was matted with urine and covered with fleas. My ribs shone through my thin layer of skin, I had absolutely no fat anywhere on my body. I was dehydrated, tired, and extremely hungry. There were times I thought I was going to die.
There is one day that I will never forget for the rest of my life; and that is the day I was taken away from that awful nightmare. A large family of two girls and three boys came into the pound with their parents, who looked eager to find a dog to adopt. All of the other animals, the cats, dogs, and birds squaked, meowed, and barked obnoxiously. I held still, I didn’t know what was happening. One of the girls, the smaller of the two, (later I learned her name was Carter) came over to my space and waved. I turned my head, and she giggled, then waved again, and I tilted my head again. She was laughing now, and her parents turned to see why. She smiled “Mama this one likes to turn his head when I wave, see?” She waved again, and because I knew that the mother would approve of me, I turned my head to the side once more. The mother was laughing now too. “His tag says Duke, baby. What do you think?” She asked Carter. She nodded, and grinned with some missing teeth in her smile. “I love him, mama. This is the one.” Both the mother and father cried at the sight of their daughter with their new dog, Duke. They payed the man who had treated me so terribly, put me in a cardboard box with some large air-holes, and took me home.
It was a long ride home, and I trembled in my box. Carter saw me through one of the holes, and smiled to re-assure me that everything was going to be ok. And for that instant, it was.
But it didn’t last. Later that year, after things had settled a bit, Carter started acting strange. She always said her head would hurt, she would cry because the pain was so strong. She often lost her balance, and some control of her left arm. Our whole family was scared, what was going to happen to my best friend?
Mrs. Kylson, Carter’s mother got a phone call on a school day, asking for the Kylsons to come to school and take Carter to the hospital. Mrs. Kylson started to cry, and I knew something was wrong. She took me with her in the car on the way to the school, along with Mr. Kylson.
Once we were at the hospital with Carter, I had to wait in the car. There was a large red sign reading “NO ANIMALS.” I later learned that my precious, wonderful Carter had a brain tumor. I was devastated, and so were the rest of her family members. Hours after she was diagnosed with brain cancer, hours felt like years, everyone sitting around the house crying all day. Carter wouldn’t let me in her room to comfort her, and I felt like I was back at the pound. Carter must have sensed that, and eventually let me come in. I lept onto her bed, and she wept. “Oh Duke, I am so thankful for a friend like you.” I was overflowing with sadness already, but now there was a small portion of happiness in me too.
Now, I am almost 9 years old, and I have had a wonderful life with the Kylsons. I have met a lovely dog named Julia, and we have a few puppies of our own. Mr. and Mrs. Kylson love having me as a companion. I learned that not everything turns out the way that you want it in life, but that does not mean that they will always turn out badly. I miss my family, I have not seen my mother and my siblings since the day I was taken, but I couldn’t be more thankful for the Family that I have now. I love my children, my wife, and most importantly, my rescuers, the family that took me in. I love Carter’s sense for how I was feeling, and that she knew how to help me. I hope that other dogs in animal pounds and shelters know that there are so many people working to save them too.
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