THE STORY ON FOOFEE AND MYLES

It was a cold, damp evening in May of 1994 as I let my eyes roam through the "Dogs" section of the Buffalo News. I had no intention of getting another dog just yet; Sabrina, my Cockapoo had recently and unexpectedly died from complications of Pancreatitis. My eyes caught an ad for Shih-Tzu's. I called the number just for the heck of it, and a woman answering the phone informed me she had only one puppy left. She further informed me I would have to come out right then to get her, as she would be "gone" by morning. It was late; almost 11pm. She was about a half hours drive away, so I asked her why it couldn't wait until morning. She informed me that the puppy was to be destroyed. I wasted no time in getting out there. I was somewhat shocked, however, when she answered the door, and I saw about 30 Shih-Tzu's all running around; some were pregnant. In a far corner of the kitchen, I spotted a cardboard box with six puppies. She informed me they were all "taken" except for one.

The home smelled of urine and feces; it didn't take me long to realize this was a "backyard breeder". She brought the pup over to me; she was very tiny, about 2 pounds. She had dried feces all over her backside. On her belly, was a walnut sized hernia. This was the reason she was to be destroyed. The breeder tried to tell me that the hernia was caused by the mother when she chewed off the cord. Knowing quite a bit about dogs, I knew this was a congenital defect, and I told her so. She immediately lowered the price by $100 and told me if I didn't take her, she would be destroyed the next day. Needless to say, Foofee went home with me.

The very next day, I took her in to my vet who confirmed the hernia was congenital. He also discovered she had a knee displacement. She walked funny; turning her foot inward with each step. The vet informed me this was her way of keeping the knee from slipping out of it's socket. He recommended it be left alone for now; surgery to follow only if she became unable to ambulate due to the problem. The following week, Foofee was spayed, and the hernia removed. Now, my baby had a clean bill of health. She received all her shots as well.

MYLES

Myles is a five year old Brittany. Myles spent his first eleven months in hell. He was owned by a man who didn't know how to handle or raise a puppy. Brittany's are a very active breed, and need a lot of attention and space to run and play. Myles, however, was left alone 12 hours a day. With no one to guide him, he made a mess in the home as no one was there to let him out to relieve himself. He chewed out of frustration and anxiety. When his guardian returned home each evening, he would become furious at the mess Myles had made. Myles, on the other hand, was thrilled to have his companion home, and greeted him affectionately. His loving enthusiasm was greeted with a beating. Myles had objects thrown at him; I found out it was tin cans. To stop Myles from doing his business in the home, his guardian began to leave him with no food or water for the 12 hours he was gone. This caused Myles more anxiety and stress and he chewed anything he could get a hold of and eat it. Finally, his guardian could stand it no longer, and took Myles to his vet to be destroyed. His vet of course, would not have anything to do with destroying a healthy young pup. This man took Myles to seven more vets only to be told the same thing each time. Frustrated now, he finally took him to the SPCA figuring he would be destroyed eventually. I learned all of this information from Myles former veterinarian.

When Charlie came home with Myles, I was appalled at his general affect. He was trembling, withdrawn, scared. His ears were flat back to his head, and he whimpered in fear and anxiety. In the house, he immediately urinated and began to whimper and cry. He went to a far corner and curled up in a tight little ball. Later on, I tried to coax him to come to me by presenting a can of biscuits. To my shock and horror, Myles went screeching through the house, went behind our bed, and lay there and trembled. His eyes were glued to the can I held in my hands. The next day, I phoned the SPCA who gave me a brief history of Myles life with his previous guardian. I phoned his former vet, where I learned the whole story.

I began a daily routine with Myles starting the next day. It took me six months of working with this little waif "one on one" before he finally began to trust me. Today, Myles is a very happy five year old. He loves Foofee, and Autumn, our English Setter. Autumn is the only dog we have that came from a very reputable breeder in Waterport, NY. They all love each other, but it is Myles and Foofee who are the best of friends; it is as if they somehow know each other's story. All three of my "kids" are my life. They are the reason I get up each day. After losing my precious beloved Suzy, I thought I would never be able to love again. Then Foofee came into my life, followed by Autumn, then Myles. Myles was the turning point for me. He came into my life at a time when I thought my world had ended. We were both hurting unbearably; and brought each other back to life.