* * * UPDATE!! * * *
March 2014
Ronaldo was adopted by Caroline and her two loving children in the Chicagoland area! We are so thrilled for this lucky, sweet, shy boy who has suffered so much in his short life. He deserves the very best, and his adoring family will make sure he gets just that.
In mid-March, Dawn hosted a few of us at her house and we had the pleasure of meeting sweet Ronaldo and spending an evening with him.
Marna - our dear friend and ardent ISDF supporter - was there. Marna owns Grace Wears Fur pet photography, and she had brought her camera.
Lucky Ronaldo posed for her...
Marna - our dear friend and ardent ISDF supporter - was there. Marna owns Grace Wears Fur pet photography, and she had brought her camera.
Lucky Ronaldo posed for her...
and for my amateur shots as well.
The following weekend, Caroline and her family came to meet Ronaldo.
It was love at first sight. Ronaldo was finally home. Our hearts soared for this sweet boy.
Andrea had stopped by that afternoon with Ronaldo's old pal, Daisy Malaysi. The two enjoyed a happy, frolicsome reunion in Dawn and Chuck's yard.
Ronaldo's family has updated us that he continues to do great at home.
He just started an obedience class and Mom reports that he is as clever as we all knew he was, and is excelling already. And - not to be outdone by "sister" Daisy, who was MDDB's calendar pinup girl for the month of April, complete with bunny ears - Ronaldo sported some Easter bling of his own over the recent holidays.
We are so thrilled for this amazing survivor. His life has made a 180-degree turn and he is finally home forever. We could not be happier.
Thank you to all who made this possible, from Wani Muthiah and Malaysian Dogs Deserve Better for pulling him out from that sad tree shelter and saving his life; to kind supporters who nursed him back to health in Malaysia and helped fund his medical care and flight here to the USA; to his amazing adoptive family, who shower him with all the love and affection he deserves after his lifelong ordeal.
Thank you for all everyone has done for sweet Ronaldo!
February 2014
Ronaldo and Daisy 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!
Ronaldo, in particular, seems born to be a babysitter. Dawn reported that he was in his element when she fostered some puppies from India for a few days. He loved to be 'working' - corralling them and keeping them all in line, as a loving, but firm, caretaker of the young ones.
Ronaldo is an affectionate but very shy young man who needs a little time to warm up to strangers - but once they have won his trust, he laps up human affection and gives as good as he gets.
Thank you to all who made this possible, from Wani Muthiah and Malaysian Dogs Deserve Better for saving, vetting, and fostering Ronaldo and Daisy...
…to kind-hearted sponsors who generously donated to help cover their 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 Ronaldo.
Six months ago, my entire life turned upside-down.
Little did I know - this was actually a good thing.
In fact, it was probably the best thing that had ever happened to me. It just didn't feel much like it at all, at the time…
In fact, it was probably the best thing that had ever happened to me. It just didn't feel much like it at all, at the time…
But let me backtrack a bit, and start at the beginning.
Three years ago, my mother gave birth to me on the streets of Seri Kembangan, a city in Malaysia. Like many other places in the world, my birthplace has two sides to it: a glittering, gorgeous facade that caters mostly to tourists; and an edgy, urban flip side where we street dogs roam in great numbers, and where so many humans eke out a living under difficult circumstances.
My chance of living a normal life were low indeed - so many of us street dogs perish at a tender age.
Either we are mowed down by traffic, before we are old enough to properly learn how to navigate around it - or our mothers are claimed by cars, which leaves us as defenseless orphans. Or disease passes through our region, and we die slowly, suffering, in great numbers, since so few of us are vaccinated. Or we are ravaged by competing street dog packs who want to stake their claim on a territory we happen to be living in, so we die from wounds inflicted upon us, and subsequent untreated infection. Or we scrounge for food, but resources are too scarce in our area - or perhaps, not scarce, but there are too many other dogs who are faster and more proficient at scavenging then we are. Or - tragically - we manage to survive all of these hardships, yet are snared by Malaysian dog catchers, who are paid a bounty for each of us they manage to drag back to city pounds, where we die in massive numbers from disease and starvation (they don't feed us there much, if at all. It's the government's method of slow, but cheap, euthanasia).
I got lucky. I survived - and not just because of my quick wits (though I'm sure they helped), but because of the kindness of a stranger.
One day, when I was very young, a man happened upon me and my siblings. He knew my brothers and sisters were too much for my poor mom to take care of, and he knew our chances - all of us, Mom included - were grim, out on the streets.
The problem was, the man himself was living in dire straits. He was in his late 60s, destitute, transient, and jobbing daily for any money he could get. And he had already adopted another dog from off the streets long before me, a sweet big boy who came to be my big brother in the months and years that followed.
But although my adoptive human had troubles of his own, he looked into my eyes and felt unable to leave me behind. So he approached me with kind words and gentle hands. And my mother - sweet saint that she was - stepped back into the shadows and let him take me away from her, not because she didn't love me…but because she did.
And she knew that a life lived on the streets was no life for a gentle boy like me. So although I was frightened, I took my cues from my mom, and entrusted my fate into the hands of this kindly, older man.
But although my adoptive human had troubles of his own, he looked into my eyes and felt unable to leave me behind. So he approached me with kind words and gentle hands. And my mother - sweet saint that she was - stepped back into the shadows and let him take me away from her, not because she didn't love me…but because she did.
And she knew that a life lived on the streets was no life for a gentle boy like me. So although I was frightened, I took my cues from my mom, and entrusted my fate into the hands of this kindly, older man.
He scooped me into his arms and carried me "home" - which in our case, was a series of rented rooms over the two and a half years that we lived together. When we arrived, I met my big brother who grudgingly welcomed me. Over time, he became a real brother and friend to me, and taught me the ropes of my new life.
By the time I turned two, our human dad was closing in on seventy years old, and his health was deteriorating. We had been living for a period of time in a rented room near a food marketplace with shops quite similar to this one.
This was the most stable and happy period of our lives. Dad was lonely for human companionship, but we did the best we could to provide him with love and friendship, and we all kept one another company.
This was the most stable and happy period of our lives. Dad was lonely for human companionship, but we did the best we could to provide him with love and friendship, and we all kept one another company.
Our dad had found pretty steady work finally, doing odd jobs here and there for the food stall vendors that populated the nearby marketplace. This provided us with our room and some food, so we were all quite satisfied and happy.
My big brother and I often tailed along behind Dad when he did his jobs, so we got to know all of the food vendors: which ones were kind, and which ones would shoo us angrily away; which ones would offer us small tidbits of yummy morsels, and which ones would threaten us by waving pots and pans in our direction.
We also got to know the local street dogs, who were not very friendly. My big brother was quite capable of holding his own, so despite a few sparring matches with the others, he was bigger, tougher, and quite able to fend for himself. But I was a different story altogether. I had only known life with my mom, and then life with my human dad. I had never properly learned to defend myself, or how to fight. I am a quiet and gentle soul - a lover, not a fighter. I didn't stand a chance with the bigger dogs who tried to bully me every chance they got.
We also got to know the local street dogs, who were not very friendly. My big brother was quite capable of holding his own, so despite a few sparring matches with the others, he was bigger, tougher, and quite able to fend for himself. But I was a different story altogether. I had only known life with my mom, and then life with my human dad. I had never properly learned to defend myself, or how to fight. I am a quiet and gentle soul - a lover, not a fighter. I didn't stand a chance with the bigger dogs who tried to bully me every chance they got.
My dad knew this, so he worried incessantly about me when nighttime fell and we were all back in our rented room. He knew my big brother would be okay, but he fretted endlessly about what would become of me.
As it turned out - he was right to worry.
One terrible morning, I woke to the sound of my big brother whining in a high-pitched voice. I had never heard him cry like that before - he was a big, tough dude. He was nuzzling Dad's hands and face over and over again, as if willing him to move them. But Dad never moved again.
A day or two passed, and the vendors began to worry about what had happened to the kind old man who did odd jobs for them. They came looking for our dad, as did the police, and they found us all in our rented room - my dad in his bed sleeping as still as a stone, and my big brother and I hiding in a corner, hungry and heartbroken.
The food stall vendors knew how much our dad had loved us and worried about our future welfare. The ones who had always been kind to us now became even more generous, and although it was hard on us both to adjust to life on the streets, we slowly began to adapt. But it was difficult to sleep beside the noisy street, where the sound of voices and cars bothered us at all hours. And although we got scraps from the food vendors, there was never quite enough to eat.
Worse - the kindness we received from these marketplace men began to attract all the wrong kinds of attention from the local street dog gangs towards me and my big brother. Their jealousy and their own hunger began to create confrontations that worsened by the day.
Worse - the kindness we received from these marketplace men began to attract all the wrong kinds of attention from the local street dog gangs towards me and my big brother. Their jealousy and their own hunger began to create confrontations that worsened by the day.
My big brother was tough, and was able to rely upon lessons he had learned from years living on the streets before our dad had rescued him. But he was also getting on in years, and unable to defend both of us from the advances of the street dogs. Just keeping himself alive and protected was taking up all of his energy - there was no way he could protect me forever, too.
One awful day, our worst fears were realized.
While innocently scavenging for some food scraps one hungry morning, I was set upon by a pack of street dogs that literally tore me to bits. My big brother was no match for their numbers and strength, much as it broke his heart to see me suffer.
While innocently scavenging for some food scraps one hungry morning, I was set upon by a pack of street dogs that literally tore me to bits. My big brother was no match for their numbers and strength, much as it broke his heart to see me suffer.
I was shaken about like a rag doll, and my flesh was literally torn off of my body around my throat and neck, and from both of my front legs. With puncture wounds perilously close to my jugular, and large chunks of flesh hanging off my neck, limbs, and right shoulder, I was unable to even move.
Eventually, my nearly-lifeless form lost all attraction for the pack of dogs, and slowly, at long last, they left me to die.
Breathing was difficult, through my rapidly-swelling throat.
My front limbs felt useless because of the pain blazing through them and the way they were swelling like balloons.
I was already weak from a blood parasite infection and weeks of starvation on the streets - and now I had suffered shock, and severe blood loss, all in the space of a few terrible minutes.
I gave up all hope, closed my eyes, and waited to die.
But then something made me open my eyes. I heard a sound I had only heard once before in my life - a heartbroken, high-pitched whine. It was my big brother, whimpering from where he had watched the attack unfold from across the street. Approaching me would only attract my attackers again, so he was helpless to help me.
But knowing that he loved me, and that he cared, gave me the impetus to try to save my own life.
That was the last time I would ever see my big brother.
I have heard that he lives there still, seeking whatever food he can get from the food vendors, and sleeping on the streets, fending for himself amongst the dog packs, and thinking of his dad and of me often.
I pray he will stay strong and able-bodied for as long as he can, and that maybe one day, someone will find him on the street and think he is beautiful and take him home to call him their very own. I dream about this most nights…
I will never forget either one of them.
I miss them so much.
I have heard that he lives there still, seeking whatever food he can get from the food vendors, and sleeping on the streets, fending for himself amongst the dog packs, and thinking of his dad and of me often.
I pray he will stay strong and able-bodied for as long as he can, and that maybe one day, someone will find him on the street and think he is beautiful and take him home to call him their very own. I dream about this most nights…
I will never forget either one of them.
I miss them so much.
To this day, I don't know how I managed it - and neither does anyone else.
But somehow, in the state I was in, I managed to drag myself through the busy streets to a small park with a tree that I knew about. The tree had a bit of a hollow in its base, and I had used it once or twice when I desperately needed rest and craved protection from the elements and marauding dog packs.
But somehow, in the state I was in, I managed to drag myself through the busy streets to a small park with a tree that I knew about. The tree had a bit of a hollow in its base, and I had used it once or twice when I desperately needed rest and craved protection from the elements and marauding dog packs.
It was to here that I dragged myself.
I think I must have blacked out several times along the way, and still don't know quite how I got there, but somehow - I did it.
I think I must have blacked out several times along the way, and still don't know quite how I got there, but somehow - I did it.
Although I had some protection inside my tree, I had lost so much blood…and so much hope. And I was in agony. Slowly, the light began to go out of eyes…and from somewhere far away, I imagined I felt the gentle hand of my beloved dad stroking my head and telling me I was a good boy.
That was the state I was in when a volunteer with Malaysian Dogs Deserve Better found me.
She snapped this photo of me as she contacted the group to tell them I needed urgent help.
She snapped this photo of me as she contacted the group to tell them I needed urgent help.
Immediately, thanks to MDDB, I was removed to a local veterinary hospital, where I received top-notch emergency care to address my wounds, dehydration, malnutrition, shock, blood loss, and blood parasites.
I grew a little bit stronger each day, and after seven weeks of treatment at the clinic, I was transferred to MDDB's halfway home where I enjoyed further medical care, plus the kindness of caretakers, square meals, and a crate and bed to call my own.
For five long months I lived there, meeting a string of prospective adopters that came to visit all of us, and hoping that one would decide I was the missing piece in the puzzle of their lives. But none did - I was too "plain", too "common", too "timid."
For five long months I lived there, meeting a string of prospective adopters that came to visit all of us, and hoping that one would decide I was the missing piece in the puzzle of their lives. But none did - I was too "plain", too "common", too "timid."
A month ago, I moved to MDDB's brand new beautiful resource and rehabilitation center…
...where I met my sweet foster sister, Daisy (who is also looking for a home - please see her story here), and together, we have continued our quest to find a home.
But here in Malaysia, where our breed - the Telomian - is a common sight - we are not considered beautiful or interesting. We may wait forever to find a home in our resident nation. So when MDDB had the opportunity to partner with the International Street Dog Foundation once more, to find homes for both myself and Daisy - they jumped at the chance.
But here in Malaysia, where our breed - the Telomian - is a common sight - we are not considered beautiful or interesting. We may wait forever to find a home in our resident nation. So when MDDB had the opportunity to partner with the International Street Dog Foundation once more, to find homes for both myself and Daisy - they jumped at the chance.
I will fly to America soon. I hope it is the promised land they have all been telling me about - I am nervous, but so excited!
I know that I may seem timid to some, and plain to some - but underneath my scarred exterior, beats a heart of gold - filled with so much love that I have to share with my new family.
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.
For six months, I have met countless prospective adopters who all say pretty much the same thing: Oh, what a nice dog. But not very handsome. Can we see the others?
For six months, I have met countless prospective adopters who all say pretty much the same thing: Oh, what a nice dog. But not very handsome. 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.
I admit that when I first came to live with a human, I was terrified. I had only lived in the company of dogs up until that point, and although I was young and eager to learn, I was unsocialized to this strange species of two-legged beast that mostly posed a threat to me in my daily existence. But my newfound benefactor and human dad was a kind and quiet man, and he soon won me over with his gentle ways.
It was a transition…and to this day, though I'm not at all skittish around people, I still take my time getting to know humans. Better safe than sorry - as I have met plenty that might kick me as well as caress me.
So I am quiet, like my human dad before me, who also knew both kindness and cruelty at the hands of his fellow man - and I measure my responses, and am quite tentative in doling out trust and affection.
However, once you have won my trust...you will have my love FOREVER. Just like my human dad did.
He taught me well, and I hope and dream that one day I will find human parents again - who also possess gentle hands and kind voices - and who will love me for all time, like my human dad once did.
However, once you have won my trust...you will have my love FOREVER. Just like my human dad did.
He taught me well, and I hope and dream that one day I will find human parents again - who also possess gentle hands and kind voices - and who will love me for all time, like my human dad once did.
I know it's so much to hope for, but I can't help myself. I've come so far in this journey halfway across the world, searching for a forever home and family to call my own.
Might you be the ones I have been dreaming of?
Please share my story and help MDDB and ISDF partner to bring me to a real home, at long last.
Thank you so very much!!
Love, Ronaldo
For more information about adopting Ronaldo, or any of our available dogs, please contact Dawn Trimmel at (414) 426-4148. Thank you!
* * * * *
For more information about adopting Ronaldo, 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.
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
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.
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