Megan (Adopted!)

*** UPDATE ***

October 2013

Our prayers have been answered, because Megan's amazing foster family - Charles, Cathy, and CJ -

- have informed us that Megan need never worry again for the rest of her days. Her family has fallen completely in love with her, and will never let her go.

Megan is such a lucky girl! 

The Mitchums embraced her with open arms from the first moment they laid eyes on this sweet, but shy girl. 

They have worked hard to help her develop confidence and find her inner puppy - and all their hard work has paid off in spades, as she now play-bows and zooms about the house with the best of them, especially when her best friend, son CJ is a part of the game! 

Megan goes for long walks that range all over her gorgeous neighborhood with her new family. 
She fancies herself a fine hunter, and has been enjoying acquainting herself with all of the small scurrying, furry, fascinating critters that romp around here in the midwest USA. Luckily, she never catches anything!

Megan and her mom, Cathy, recently explored a large nearby off-leash dog park, and Mom reports that Megan had a blast. She is still cautious around other dogs, but is making friends and finding her way.

Megan's family has gone above and beyond fostering, and now adopting, from us. 
They have become good friends - and even hosted our First Annual ISDF Rummage Sale at their gorgeous house, effectively donating an entire weekend (and much more, if you count time spent cleaning, collecting items, pricing, and staging the sale in the weeks leading up to it, as well as sign-hanging and taking-down the day before and after).

We are very grateful for all they do for us - and most especially, of course - for dear Megan. With the Mitchum family behind her, this gal is well on her way to maximizing her full potential! She is so very lucky to call them her own. And we are so very lucky to have them all as part of our ISDF family!

We love you, Megan!!! 

Welcome home, sweet girl. Welcome home.

Thank you to all who made this possible, from Khun Bee for championing this girl around the world until sponsors were found; to Elfe, who initially agreed to adopt this deserving girl and her baby (RIP, sweet little boy) and had her pulled and transported to Bangkok; to Dr. Kom and Khun Yui for vetting and boarding this dear girl; to Soot Liang Woo and her wonderful pet taxi man for fostering Megan and making and handling all of her overseas travel arrangements; to all the kind-hearted international sponsors who generously donated to help cover her various costs over time; to Megan's adoring foster (now forever!!!) family who welcomed her with open arms from the word go, despite her being - at the time - a temporary wayfarer.

Our gratitude is so very deep. Much work and love from around the world came together to save this little girl. 

For so many of us, the Mitchums have made a dream come true. 

Thank you!

* * * * *

My name is Megan.

Look into my eyes and see the love and trust shining there.

What you see in my eyes - my ability to have faith in people - is a miracle...

because I was captured.

Crammed.

Stuffed.

Stacked.

Nearly suffocated.

Nearly smothered.

I came within touching distance of enduring days of torture at the hands of callous humans, who believe that days of terror, pain and adrenaline make flesh taste sweeter.

I was luckily rescued - but only to endure a fresh round of suffering at Khemmarat.

Strong, male dogs were everywhere. I was bitten and tormented, desperately hungry and thirsty, and had nowhere to turn for solace or escape. Worse, I soon realized I was expecting babies.

On January 20, 2013, my children were born - a whole litter. 

I was so sick, so thin, and so weak from my ordeal, and from the lack of food, shelter, and medical care, that my babies were born dead or dying. One by one, I gave birth to precious little ghosts...and my heart broke with each lifeless body that I tried to lick back into the land of living.

Then one was born and he responded to my rough tongue, and opened his tiny mewling mouth, and took a breath for me - one tiny little boy. All black, except for a teeny white diamond on his chest. So small and so helpless.

I loved him so. But I was so weak from hunger, exhaustion, bite wounds, and stress that I could not even manage to help my baby nurse. 

Kind volunteers who happened to be at the shelter stepped in and helped me. They rubbed me clean with stray bits of cloth and towel, and made a small bed for me and my baby out of rough burlap sacking, some plastic crates turned upside-down, and empty dog food sacks.

They realized I was too sick to properly help my baby, so they helped him find me and encouraged us both to fight. They left me with bowls brimming with dry dog food and water, and tearfully prayed for the best, but expected the worst.

Over the next couple of weeks, despite my horribly frail condition, I did my best to protect my little one. I had no nutrition to give, no shelter to offer, no protection from the other dogs, many of whom were big, mean, hungry, and on the rampage.

When my volunteer friends visited me again on February 1, filled with worry and dread, they were amazed to see that I had kept my baby alive for two whole weeks. This was truly a miracle!

They took many photos of me and my baby and shared them with the world. They shared this lovely video, too. My heart hurt for my baby, but I still had hope for him at that time, as you can see. And I was loving and affectionate to everyone, despite all I had been through, even to the strangers who were petting me with kind hands.

Little did I know that halfway around the world, ISDF and Izumi would see our photos and video, look into our eyes, and want to save our lives.

With the help of kind donors and sponsors - like Anita Yamada, Gari Lynn Smith, Britt Johnson Drews, Nicole Gergans, and others - money was raised to help us both. 

Truck transport was arranged to take us out of Khemmarat and into Bangkok, where we would receive top medical care from Dr. Kom and Khun Yui. From there, we were to be taken by Elfe to her island paradise for doggies.

But sadly, it was not meant to be.

Our transport to freedom was to take place on February 10, and all awaited with baited breath to verify our safe and successful rescue. 

I had managed to keep my tiny son alive for almost three weeks, but on February 7, just days before our luck would have changed, he succumbed. 

A shelter manager discovered his lifeless little body beside me, where he had been nursing, or trying to nurse, in his final moments.  I didn't want to move a muscle. I didn't want them to take him away. I had been trying so hard to keep him warm - didn't they understand how cold he was without me...? But they patted me gently, and told me they were sorry, and took him from me. 

I never saw him again.

He never got his own number, let alone a name. His spirit was strong, and good, and he tried so hard to make it. He will always live on inside my heart, my little black diamond boy.

Three more days passed. Despair filled my heart. I had lost all hope and all happiness.

And then one morning, I awoke from my depressed stupor to find I was being caught in a slip rope. I thought perhaps the horrible meat trade men had come for me again, but I had lost my ability to care. Dejectedly, I let myself be pulled to a waiting area where several other dogs milled around.

But the slip rope loosened, and I was free to meander, as they were. And they all seemed very happy. I wondered what on earth was happening...

One by one, we were lifted into the back of this truck.

I had no way of knowing that this was the first step of an incredible journey that would end with my very own happy ever after.

Off we went to Bangkok. 

There I am, at left. I was confused, but not afraid. The worst had already happened - I had long ago decided to let Fate lead me where she would.

I watched as Khemmarat slowly disappeared into the distance. 

I was sorry to see it go, in my own way. It was a place of terrible memories and great despair - but it was also the place where I met, and loved, my son - for a precious moment in time. 

After a half-day of driving through the heat, along bumpy roads and speedy highways, we finally made one last stop. It was at the veterinary clinic of the fantastic Dr. Kom and his ever-present assistant, Khun Yui.

Once again, everything was new and strange and frightening to me. I was given veterinary care, and so weak, depressed, and sweetly compliant was I, that no one even needed to me restrain me as needles and hands poked and prodded me.

Still - in the back of my mind, among the swirling fog of fear and sadness - I sensed something strange.

These hands were kind and gentle. The dogs here seemed happy, well-fed, content, and eager for the affection Dr. Kom and Khun Yui doled out generously.

Could it be...that this was a happy place.......?

It didn't take any time at all for me to realize that yes! It was...

I was tentative and submissive to the extreme at first. Gentle hands were pretty much unheard of to me. I had only ever been accosted, beaten, or hurt at the hands of humans.
But Dr. Kom and Khun Yui are very convincing people!



They won me over within moments, and I gave in and crawled into their laps and arms.
I had never known such kindness and compassion. 
What a revelation!

Rome wasn't built in a day. I still have a ways to go. 

However...I have been here three months, boarding at this clinic, and much to the amazement of all involved in my rescue, the doctor and his assistant happily report that I was from day one, and continue to be, the sweetest, most gentlest, little soul.



I am submissive and quiet and - dare I say - even happy, these days. My heart was badly broken at Khemmarat but the kindness of strangers has glued the pieces of it back together again.
If all I ever know for the rest of my days is this cage, and the kindness of the people who often take me out for love and affection and walks, I'm okay with that. I know safety here, and peace, and compassion.

But...could another future be in store for me? An even better one??

A few days ago, a lovely and kind man came to visit me - it was dear Soot's pet taxi friend. He was so nice to me and spoke softly and gave me many pats and cuddles. Today, Dr. Kom and Khun Yui told me that he will be my foster daddy in Bangkok while I await a family of my very own to adopt me, and will come to pick me up and bring me to his home next week - I'm still pinching myself! 
It's too good to be true...isn't it??

Then soon, hopefully, some perfect people will see my story right here - 
and look into my eyes, as others did once upon a time, many months ago - 
and their heart will sing a tune in harmony with mine - 
and I will fly across an ocean into the arms of my forever family.

This is what they tell me.
I cannot believe how my fortune has been reversed, in just a few months' time. I am thankful to everyone around the world who has worked together to change my life from hellish to heavenly.

Thank you to all who helped me up to this point, and all who will help me going forward. 

Thank you from both of us, my baby and me. 

He will fly with me when I go. I will carry him home inside my heart.

 I am a victim of the dog meat trade.

I grew up on the streets of Thailand, in a "survival of the fittest" climate, where I had to fend for food and avoid many dangers. 

One day, some men approached me while I slept and tossed a wire lasso over my head. As I awoke, struggling and snapping with fear, they used a long stick with crude pincers attached to the end of it to lift me and then dump me into a truck.

Lots of other terrified dogs were in the truck alongside me. We were driven into a dense jungle-like area, away from main roads and towns. Tropical trees provided cover as the same horrid men used the wire lassos and pincers on us again, this time to grab us and drop us into a pit. We fell through the air for a terrifying moment, then landed on a hard concrete floor. Some of us were injured in the fall; all of us were terrorized.

The pit cover was replaced once we were all inside it, and hardly any light penetrated from above. There was no food or water in our hot, dark, claustrophobic jail, and nowhere to escape. But we didn't fight one another or really do much of anything other than freeze with fear - we were all too traumatized.

Over the next couple of days, the pit cover opened a few times, light blinded us from above, and more dogs were dropped in amongst us until the men apparently decided that had enough of us to satisfy their greed and justify an legal smuggling run across the border.

 There was the sound of the pit cover opening again, and as we all blinked, blinded once again by the light, expecting more dogs to drop down amongst us, the long pincer stick returned instead. We were grabbed around the neck once more, and then shoved into a new form of torture - a compact "crush cage" - with many other dogs. 

The cages were set on end and we were dropped in and shoved and packed like sardines until limbs and tails emerged from between the wire bars and we were nearly suffocating from such close quarters. None of us could move more than literally one inch in any direction. 

Then our crush cages were piled high onto the flatbed of a truck, with more and more cages on top of, and around the sides of, ours. Many of us lost limbs and tails in crushing injuries as the staggering weight stacked higher and higher.

In order to conceal us - live contraband intended for smuggling cross-country and over two border crossings - a heavy, non-breathable tarp was thrown over the entire truck's cargo, cutting off even our access to fresh air - the last resource we had.

We sat on that truck for a long time. I was so dazed and disoriented that it could have been hours or it could have been days - I really can't say for sure. I guess they were waiting for an all clear signal from they boss. They drank water noisily from bottles as they laughed and joked near our truck and we watched them with desperate eyes because of course, during this time, we had been under terrible stress and had not had food or water for a dangerously-long period of time. 

I was certain that the end must be near - I was sure I would suffocate from the heat, from this extreme overcrowding, and from the long stretch of time that slowly ticked by. Indeed, many dogs around me perished.

It was evening, as dusk fell, when our truck finally rumbled to life and attempted to make a run northward for the border. The smugglers were headed for Vietnam, by way of Laos. But near the river's edge which separated Thailand from Laos, where we would have once again been thrown about like so much live garbage - this time into overcrowded smuggling boats - new sounds reached deep into our desolate quarters, inspiring fresh apprehension to those of us still alive and still conscious.

Voices - angry and commanding - fell upon our ears.  We were frightened, but not for long. Much to my surprise, we were rescued that day, and I owe my life to the caring individuals and government officials who came together to save us all from yet more suffering in an extended transport, and eventual slow torture and death, to be someone's adrenaline-infused meal (which some cultures consider good for one's health and virility). 

I am forever grateful to our saviors. A few of the Royal Police even cracked open water bottles and tried their best to proffer sips to those of us in cages with access to bars facing them. But there was too little water and too many dogs. And anyway, it would be a long while before we could even be released from our terrifying confines.

We were slowly transported another long distance, still in those horrible crush cages, still packed like sardines - it seemed to take forever. I was in so much pain and filled with claustrophobic terror - what next??

We ended up at the Khemmarat government-run shelter, one of several large livestock centers in the Thai nation. There, our cages were unloaded with the use of cranes, hoists and manpower. One by one, our cage wires were cut and we literally had to be unpacked and unfolded from the positions we had been held prisoner in for so many long and torturous days.

Next, those of us who could stand and move still were herded into a large dog kennel. To be able to move freely again, and to have access to large vats of water and a long trough with food, was nothing short of miraculous, after all I had endured.

But although my life was marginally-improved now that I'd been "saved", we all still suffered - this time from widespread disease and massive overcrowding. Food was scarce; we lived practically one on top of the other; dog fights were frequent and often vicious; and there was little to no medical attention available. Once again, I was surrounded by terrible suffering and watched as many fellow dogs died around me at a rapid rate.

A long, frightening, sad period of my life passed here. I wondered if my whole life would play out behind these bars, and I shivered with fear to imagine such a fate.

But somehow, through some magical stroke of fate, Lady Luck intervened on my behalf. Someone, somewhere, saw my photo, looked into my eyes, and knew that they could not leave me behind.

Sponsors raised funds for me and my poor baby, who did not live long enough to depart with me. Khun Bee and Elfe worked together and arranged truck transport for me and a few lucky others from Khemmarat. We were transported to Dr. Kom and Khun Yui's wonderful veterinary clinic in Bangkok. There, I finally received medical attention, was put into a well-padded, spacious cage of my very own, and enjoyed unrestricted access to my own personal food and water bowls. 

 For the first time in my strife-filled life, I saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. 

For three peaceful months, here at the vet clinic in Bangkok, I have been shown kindness and affection; learned confidence and polished my manners; and discovered the meaning of love. Soon I will even enter a real home for foster care, too! 

It's been a glimpse into a life I never even knew existed: lives where doggies have homes and families to call their very own, lives where they will never know fear again. It's a life I so desperately want now…but one which will be brand-new to me and often confusing. I have so much to learn about life as a pet dog. 

I know I can do it - I've made it this far already! - but please, won't you gently show me the ropes, and have patience with me when I make missteps sometimes, as I surely will? In return, I will repay you a thousandfold. 

I just need a fair chance at a life I could only dream of when I was that terrified dog, crammed into a crate, baking alive in the tropical heat, who had given up all hope.

Thank you for reading my story.
Love, Megan