Daisy (Adopted!)

* * * UPDATE!! * * *

February 2014

Daisy and Ronaldo left the loving arms of their Malyasian caretakers after a tearful but celebratory going-away party, complete with cake and cookies.

They were brought to the airport by MDDB staff and traveled accompanied by kind ISDF supporter Sherine Yam.

The two dogs arrived here with Sherine at Chicago's O'Hare Airport on Monday, February 10, after a long journey from Kuala Lampur, made longer by an unexpected full-day layover at Tokyo's Narita Airport due to a snow storm in Japan. 

Actually, since they received top-notch care from animal specialists there for a full day - food, fresh water, walks, attention, and nice bedding - they probably enjoyed stretching their legs in the middle of their tiresome journey from southeast Asia to here in the United States!

Both dogs are in foster care with Dawn and Chuck here in the Chicagoland area. They arrived feeling quite shy and nervous...

…but shortly after their arrival, they both had warm baths and large meals, which they enjoyed immensely. They settled in well, and have been enjoying the luxurious accommodations of Chez Trimmel while having a fun time romping in the company of each other and Dawn's pet and foster dogs ever since!

Daisy is an absolute sweetheart who craves human affection and gives as good as she gets. She will nuzzle her head in any lap that sits near her, and she will even hug the legs of humans standing near her!

Thank you to all who made this possible, from Wani Muthiah and Malaysian Dogs Deserve Better for saving, vetting, and fostering Daisy and Ronaldo...

…to kind-hearted sponsors who generously donated to help cover her costs - especially Diane Levinson, Gina Stern, and Naomi Ben-Attar; and finally, to Daisy and Ronaldo's awesome, eager, kind-hearted flight volunteer, Sherine Yam!

* * * * * 

My name is Daisy.

I lived three hard years on the streets, though the past year of my life has been a dream come true. This is especially true of the past six months, during which I have lived at the brand-new resource and rehabilitation center for the animal welfare group Malaysian Dogs Deserve Better (MDDB) in Klang, about 20 miles outside of Malaysia's capital city of Kuala Lampur. 

My friend Ronaldo - who will also be my travel companion here to the United States, and who is also looking for a home - has been here for sometime, too. Ronaldo's dramatic before and after photos can be seen below, and you can find his story on this blog post here.

When we arrive in the USA in February 2014, we will both be fostered together by the International Street Dog Foundation, the American organization which will find us forever homes in our new nation.

For now, here at the Klang resource and rehabilitation center, we have caretakers, our own well-padded crates, and regular meals and exercise. The Bad Men are just a distant nightmare to me now, and life is secure, if somewhat lacking in family life.

But the humans around me have been whispering that life is about to get even better…and discussing travel plans for me. International travel plans. I don't know what any of this means, but I'm excited to find out what lies ahead!

I come from a majestic dynasty of dogs. My ancestors were the Telomians, a beautiful breed native to our homeland of Malysia. But over the years, our royal heritage has fallen from grace because of rampant overpopulation. Like so many others, I and my family are now considered common, often even unwanted, in my home country. 

Sterilization of us street dogs is uncommon, so we bring new generations into the world to suffer, often to perish - as my mom and two of my own children did. Though sometimes, for a lucky handful of us - we win the fight to survive. And for an even tinier few of us, we get the opportunity to go on to an actual home and a full life with a real family.

But I'm racing ahead of myself. Let me take you back to where my story began, in a busy, dingy, polluted, multi-story parking garage in Klang. I called that place home for three long years. It was as good a place as any to make a shelter for myself and my children. 

The perks were a bit of protection from tropical storms, other inclement weather, and cruel humans. Additionally, a caretaker at a nearby temple came by whenever he could to provide us with a bit of food - not often, to be sure, but any little bit helped. I will never forget his kindness. He saw my mom, me, and later my own babies through some really lean times. If it wasn't for him, I might not be here still to tell my story, and I am thankful to him always.

This parking garage was actually a place my mom had found, and the place where I, too, was born. Of my entire litter, only I survived - the dangers of disease and having to constantly dodge cars exacted a fatal price from all of my brothers and sisters. As my mom's one and only surviving baby, we never strayed far from one another - we were all we each had in the world. That's why losing my mom was all the more traumatic for me. 

I was still quite young on the day the Bad Men came - a teenager of a dog, all gangly legs and big ears. Mom had warned me about the Bad Men from the day I was first born, and we had even seen them on several heart-pounding occasions, but we'd always been able to hide successfully from them before. They wore official city dog-catching uniforms, but we were not fooled - they were actually just jobbing men paid bounties to capture as many of us as possible. Their methods were cruel and almost sadistic at times. And our eventual fate - to be dumped at state pounds where we were left to starve and die or perish from untreated diseases - was horrifying to contemplate.

On that terrible day when I last saw my mother, they ferreted out every last corner of the car park. Though we were experts at hiding from them, they cornered and captured us both, hooking us by the throats on long poles with metal slip knots which tightened like nooses around our necks. As we fought, kicking and snapping, we were dragged through the parking garage to their waiting truck.

By the time, we arrived, half-choked from the nooses, we had both pretty much given up the fight. The struggle to breathe consumed all of our energy. But just before they lifted the poles to toss us into the trucks by our necks, Mom caught my eye with a desperate look. In that instant, I knew what she was telling me to do. She was thrown into the truck first, and as I went in behind her and the noose was released, I took one last look at her beloved face, and - as she looked on, exhausted but approving, I sprang from the bed of the truck as the door was closing on all of us and - too fast to be caught - I managed to catch a second wind (boy, did my throat and neck still hurt, though) and take off at a mad dash: through the car park, out the garage door, into the street, and as far away as I could go, as fast as possible. 
The Bad Men came behind me, but not for very long, I think…but I didn't stop to find out. I just ran and ran, until finally I lost all of my breath and energy. I sank down into an alley, exhausted and spent. For the first time, I realized I would never see my mom again, and my heart broke.

I don't know how long I lay there for, and when I woke up, I was disoriented and scared. Memories came rushing back to me, and I began to cling to hope. Was it possible that she had followed my lead and jumped out behind me? I had to find out. 

Though it took me ages to find my way back, I returned to the parking garage I had always called home. I looked for her in every hidden corner and under every car. I whined plaintively for her, calling, Mom, Mom, where are you? but she never answered my calls.

Not long after, my friend from the temple came to see me. He stroked my head and spoke soothing words to me. I guess he knew she was gone forever - she had been a friend to him, too. He eased my heart a little, but nothing ever fully took away the terrible pain that has lived inside me since the day my mother was taken away from me forever.

Another year passed. Other dogs came and went, but I stayed. One day, I became a mother myself, to five beautiful little babies. I loved them to bits, but was sorrowful that my own mom wasn't there to meet them. But they did much to help ease my grief - taking care of them took up all of my energy, and every time I licked their tiny faces and bodies and snuzzled them close to me, I felt my heart heal just a little bit more.

Remembering the fate of my siblings, I fiercely dedicated myself to protecting my children. It was easy enough when they were teeny tiny, because they couldn't move very far without my help. I chose the safest places to shelter them, and moved them each time I sensed any kind of danger. But I lived in constant terror of the Bad Men during this very vulnerable time.

One day, my fears were realized - I woke from a nap, and sensed something was wrong. Sure enough, they had come back. And unbelievably, while trying to protect my little family, I was caught again. But rather than panicking, I stayed calm, and when the moment of being thrown into the truck arrived, I somehow managed to perform my second miraculous escape, and shortly thereafter, my second return back to my home and my babies - who stayed safe and quiet while they awaited my return (I had taught them well, like my mother before me). 

The car park staff, who by now knew me quite well, reported the whole story with admiration and amazement to my temple caretaker friend upon his next visit. He could hardly believe his ears, but he knew I would not get so lucky a third time. Having heard of MDDB, he knew they were my only hope. 
He contacted them and reached their kind, compassionate project manager, Melinda Joy Gomez. He told her about our family saga. She agreed to send out a team to capture and sterilize me and my babies as soon as they were old enough. MDDB would then work to find homes for my children so they could live out their lives in safety, and would return me to the car park, since it was the life I had always lived and they assumed I would be best off returning to it - albeit now never again having to find myself in the perilous position of having to caretake for both myself and a bunch of helpless puppies while the Bad Men were afoot.

Decisions were being made about me and my family behind the scenes, but we were naive about all of it. We were just continuing our struggle for survival. 

My kids continued to grow. Keeping all of them safe was becoming a massive challenge that grew by the day. They were young, innocent, and wanting to explore the big wide world. I admonished them, cautioned them, and even nipped them into submission, but as they grew in size and curiosity, my task grew insurmountable. One terrible day, as I was moving my family to a safe area of the parking garage, one of my children was killed - right in front of all of us. It was like losing my mom all over again…and when I lost a second baby in much the same way shortly afterwards, I felt as if I could not survive the crushing heartbreak and loss.

But I had three more little ones to care for, and I could not let them down. I pulled myself together somehow for my three little sons - Odie, Scrappy Doo, and Sir Mutley - and all three of them survived. Not without their share of injuries, however: Sir Mutley's face is permanently disfigured on one side as a result of being run over by a car. Odie did pretty well for himself (he takes after me the most) but dear Scrappy Doo lost a front leg after it was run over by a car. His pain after the injury was terrible to witness at the time, and broke a mother's heart, but he carried on the best he could, dragging his crushed leg around with him. My little Scrappy Doo...I am sorry to think of how much he suffered, but I will always be so grateful that he survived.

MDDB came to collect me and my family one day in 2012. My children were teenagers themselves now - yes, gangly like me! - and long since weaned, but we remained a family unit. 

I didn't try to run when I was captured this time, because these people were completely different than the Bad Men. They had kind eyes. They offered us tidbits and spoke softly and gently to us as they crouched down to our level and held out gentle hands. They scratched our itchy spots and stroked our heads. When they looped soft leads around our necks, we willingly went where they led us because we knew they meant us no harm. 

Our temple caretaker and guardian angel was a very happy man that day. He knew we finally had a real future ahead of us all. But his biggest, happiest surprise was yet to come…

We were taken to MDDB's veterinary clinic and boarded for a few days while our health was stabilized and assessed. To have warm, well-padded crates - and fresh, clean bowls of water - and dishes of food given to us on a regular basis - was like a dream come true. Yes, we were a bit frightened at being confined for the first time in our lives, but we sensed we were safe here, and everyone was so kind. We waited to see what would happen next.

We had our blood drawn and tested, were vaccinated, and received treatment for common parasites. We also eagerly received affection from the veterinary staff. Kind humans? This was a relatively uncommon phenomenon in our lives, so we appreciated every moment. 

My sons were all neutered, and Scrappy Doo's crushed leg was removed. When he returned from surgery without that front leg, I worried myself into quite a state, but from the moment he awoke and began happily hopping about, I realized how much better off he was without it. Sepsis, if it became infected, could have killed him, and it was a useless dead weight to him anyway by that point - completely beyond help or repair. Who knew a three-legged puppy could be just as fast - if not faster - than his two siblings? Scrappy Doo made me proud as a pup, and even prouder as a young man. He was a testimony to the adversities we all can overcome, if given half a chance.

I was taken for surgery last. I was spayed, and although I knew I would never have more babies, this thought filled me with nothing but relief. I knew I was destined to live out the rest of my life in the car park, in the company of dogs who would constantly come, go, and leave me with a parade of puppies to mourn over in future. I could not bear the thought of losing anymore to cars, or consigning future generations to the suffering my mom endured at the hands of the Bad Men and in the pound where she surely died. Both of my ears were notched while I lay anesthetized, so that MDDB and others could identify me as vaccinated and spayed with just a glance.

The days passed quickly after my surgery, and very soon, I was completely healed. The time had come for me to return to the parking garage. MDDB's project manager came to bid me farewell.
Just before I was taken to the truck that would drive me back to my old home, I decided to thank her for all she had done for me. I stood up on my back legs and wrapped my front paws around her waist, trying to imitate that thing called 'hugging' that humans do to one another to express love and gratitude. Once I had hold of her, I just couldn't let go. I wanted to make sure she knew how grateful I was to her.

I finally dropped back to the ground, but when I looked up at her face, expecting to see a happy human expression, I instead saw tears. I licked them away, and received her kind pats in return. And then the truck started, and began to drive away - without me. I didn't know it, but my fate had just changed. I was not going back to that parking garage ever again. My babies and I were safe for life. Later, when my temple caretaker heard the news, he rejoiced. His every prayer had been answered for our whole family. I hope he knows how thankful we are to him for the part he played in saving us.

A short while after our sterilization, my whole family was moved to MDDB's halfway home where we enjoyed the attention of a kind caretaker in a more home-like setting. This is the gorgeous facility I have called home for nearly half a year.

As the weeks passed, MDDB found homes for all three of my sons. Each goodbye was bittersweet - I rejoiced to know they were now safe for life, but such knowledge came at a price. I would never see my sons again. I miss them with all my heart though I am so happy for them. Here I am with Scrappy Doo, shortly before he found his forever home. 

Oh - and did I mention exactly who adopted Scrappy Doo? It was MDDB's project manager, Melinda, the lady I hugged on that fateful day. He has grown up to be a wonderful young man. At Melinda's house, he met his match - another front-legged tripod, a feisty Jack Russell Terrier mix - and the two have been inseparable ever since.

My sweet little survivor.

 My sons have made me so proud and brought me so much joy. I could not be happier - life in our car park home would have been so difficult and sad and short for them. We are the luckiest little family alive.

 But meanwhile, I continued to languish in unadopted limbo. 
I was such a social butterfly that I got out and about often, as MDDB hoped that someone somewhere would see me and know they couldn't live without me.
Here I am with the lovely Derene Lee, mother of the famous Mr. Gwing, and one of my foster moms at the resource and rehabilitation center where I've been living. She is both the general manager of the center and a spokesman for MDDB. We were at a beauty pageant in Malaysia. Well, that makes sense, because I am so very beautiful…inside and out!

Here I was meeting one of the runners-up. 

See how well-behaved I am, even with a stranger! A very pretty one, but nevertheless…

Time passed. 
My sons were all long since re-homed, but no one wanted me. I am a sweetheart. I cuddle, and even hug. I can lick away tears and comfort the aching human heart. I am a little timid after everything I've been through, but if given an iota of encouragement, I am a cuddle bug. I am a happy, grateful, sweet little girl. 

I am Telomian, heir to a proud race, and majestic in my own right. But here in Malaysia, I am looked upon as common, and even homely. My ears were tipped in preparation for my re-release onto the streets, which some people think is unattractive. For over a year, I have met countless prospective adopters who all say pretty much the same thing: Oh, what a nice dog. But not very pretty. Can we see the others?

I know that MDDB has high hopes of finding me a family of my very own, but the clock never stops ticking and time just keeps rolling on. I have even been featured in the newspaper - see my story here. 

And I was April's pin-up girl for the MDDB calendar last year - see how good I was about wearing these silly bunny ears?

Yet no one who has met me has felt that I was good enough to make me their own. I hope they are all wrong. I'd like to believe what Melinda, Wani, and others at MDDB keep telling me - that I am like Cinderella. A princess in disguise!

Will you please share my story and help ISDF partner to bring me to a real home at long last?

Thank you so very much!!

Love, Daisy

For more information about adopting Daisy, or any of our available dogs, please contact Dawn Trimmel at (414) 426-4148. Thank you!

* * * * *

I am a Malaysian Street Dog.

Our lives are filled with hardship. 
The luckiest among us are ignored and allowed to eke out an existence, hunting for food, shelter, and safety. 
The rest of us suffer at the hands of man - either because we are completely ignored and disregarded (including those of us who have been injured and are suffering in plain sight of the public), or because we are actively persecuted and abused. Some of us suffer torture at the hands of the meat trade. Many of us end up in so-called "pounds" which are really just death camps for dogs. 

We are extremely lucky to have MDDB out there, on our sides, each and every day.

About MDDB

Malaysian Dogs Deserve Better (MDDB) is a canine welfare and advocacy project initiated to give Malaysian street dogs a second chance in life. 

Street dogs in Malaysia lead precarious lives due to certain prejudices and lack of empathy from members of the general public. As far as MDDB is concerned, the biggest abusers of street dogs are the municipal council and City Hall dog catching units that hunt down canines and lock them up in crowded and unhygienic enclosures pending euthanasia. Most of the time, the unfortunate dogs do not even get sufficient food or water while they await death. 

MDDB works hard to make local authorities understand that the best and most humane method of stray management is not culling dogs, but employing the Trap-Neuter-Release-Manage (TNRM) method, whereby dogs are neutered and released for the local community to manage. This is a very difficult task indeed, as dog catching in Malaysia has been commercialized with bounty being paid for the head of every dog caught. MDDB also rescues and treats injured dogs, as well as stray mothers and their puppies - and they hold adoption drives to find permanent, loving homes for many dogs as well.

For a wonderful article with many accompanying photos of just some of the ways that MDDB is making the world a better place, please see this lovely article here. 
International Street Dog Foundation is honored to partner with MDDB to have helped Dumbo and Bobby in the past, and now to help sweet Ronaldo, and dear Daisy. Hats off, and many thanks, for their tireless dedication to the street dogs of Malaysia!