Rocket/Ellie (Adopted!)

• *** UPDATE!! ***
• November 2014

Rocket left Elfes World on the island of Koh Samui early last week, flying to Bangkok with travel companions Busy (still looking for a loving home), Babe, and another small friend, Lee Lee (being adopted in Europe). 

All four dogs enjoyed four-star accommodations with lovely Bangkok foster mom Christine Sudmann, while sweet Soot Liang Woo made travel arrangements and completed all their paperwork to fly to the USA. 

Rocket, Babe, and Busy arrived at O'Hare Airport on Friday, November 14, where they were greeted by Dawn and Chuck. 

Rocket had a fun night at Dawn and Chuck's house!

On Saturday, November 15, Rocket - now renamed Ellie by her forever people - went into an AMAZING home with the lovely Young family in the Milawukee area! They came to our Petsmart adoption event to claim her.

Mom reports that Ellie loves being cuddled and is enjoying all of her new toys. She is also a huge fan of belly rubs!

Thank you to all who made this possible, from Elfe and her supporters for saving this dear girl from the streets of Koh Samui; to international supporters of Elfes World and ISDF for donating towards her flight fund; to the Young family for welcoming dear Ellie into their hearts and home with open arms.

* * * * *

Rocket's Story

My name is Rocket.
But maybe you should just call me "Hot Potato." 

You know….Hot Potato? That kid's game? The one where they sit in a circle and pass a potato round and round at high speed, pretending it's too hot to handle?

I've hardly been on this planet half a year - I'm just 7 months old - but I know how that potato feels. I've been passed around since I was barely born. 

I'm such a happy-go-lucky pooch that this hasn't bothered me as much as you might think it would. But even the most good-natured of gals would find this routine a little tiresome…and I'm no different. 

After landing on so many different doorsteps, I am finally ready to find a place that I can call home for good.

I was born on a Thai island called Koh Samui. 

I know what you're thinking. The images splashed across the tourist brochures are LOVELY...and rightly so. Our island is a haven for visitors, a paradise of white sand beaches and palm trees and resorts with infinity pools overlooking the ocean. 

And in part because of kind-hearted tourists and foreigners, more of us survive than usual. We have learned to beg from strangers and to accept their affection, and in return we often receive a few chips or a bit of leftover dinner. Even the most unsocialized among us survive on the surplus of food waste to be scavenged.

But as with all popular tourist destinations, there are two sides to every story.

The flip side of this constant influx of visiting or temporarily-residential farang (foreigners) is what is left behind in their wake. 

Of course, almost without exception, the intentions of the farang are good. But sometimes one of us is favored with food for a split second in passing, only to have a pack of dogs turn on us moments later for the tidbits we managed to procure. And sadly, a handful of us even become living waste, only to be discarded when we become inconvenient, when wayfarers move on to the next destination, or when money dries up and they return home to parts westward.

That is how my story begins.

Life on the streets for me among many roaming soi (street) dog packs posed a constant threat to the livelihood of myself, my litter, and my mum.

One day, when I was just six weeks old and hardly big enough to be away from my mother, a farang took pity on me and brought me home. He meant well and he probably saved my life, but in his own way, this careless act also brought me great sorrow. For I am Dog, and above and beyond that, I am a soi dog, raised in chaos, dodging cars and predators (human and animal) that inflict great damage, often seemingly on a whim. 

I can be your best friend, as I am so grateful for the little things in life that I will attach powerfully to you if only you show me the smallest kindness. But my little heart is also easily broken if you tire of me or decide to move on, for then I am left behind and even more powerless than I once was, as I must start anew on the streets, older and more vulnerable to aggressive attention from those who have called them home from day one.

So it was for me.

My farang was not much of a dog person, and my adorable puppy antics quickly gave way to more excitable juvenile play, which he found tiresome. But all I really wanted was a little attention, a game or two of ball, and a kind word or a pat now and again. I guess it was too much to ask for, because he began turning me out. 

When I would find the door closed against me, as I so often did, I would spend my days roaming around the apartment complex he lived at, seeking safety and shelter with other residents. Luckily, I am adorable, very affectionate, and a petite 11 kg (22 lbs), with a happy, sweet face that few could turn away from. If a street dog pack came too close, I knew where to go and which doors would open if I barked or desperately scratched at them for emergency assistance.

I made friends not just with the other resident humans but with their pet dogs, those lucky souls whose humans actually cared for them, and who got regular meals, and who - not sure if this is a fable or what?? - claimed to even get to sleep in their human's beds at night and doze on their human's furniture by day. 

I am too big-hearted to be envious, but it was a little hard to imagine all they had, compared to what I got - that is, when I was actually allowed into my so-called home.

I was 5 months old when I returned "home" one fateful evening at the usual time - the time of day when I could generally count on my human being around to let me in, drop me a meal of sorts, and offer me safe shelter for the night, the time of day when the streets are most dangerous. But there was no answer to my barks or my scratches. 

I scratched harder and the door creaked open. The apartment smelled strange and echoed back my barks. I walked in further and was greeted with closets emptied and hanging open. None of my human's bedding or furniture in sight. Cupboards hanging open in the kitchen with no tins or boxes. What had happened? Where had he gone?

I suppose you will ask why I even cared...but I am a terribly affectionate girl, and even his somewhat-reliable presence every day was enough to make me feel like we were our own little pack. 

Luckily, I had not given away my whole heart, as it might not have survived such an abandonment.

Now came the true "hot potato" stage of my life. 

I began hopping from one apartment to the next. The neighbors were all kind-hearted and felt terribly for my plight, but many already had dogs of their own. Most were farang, like my human had been, and responsibly did not want to take me in temporarily, only to break my heart again when they left.

Luckily, they knew what to do. 

While I bounced, "too hot to handle", from place to place over the next few weeks, they offered me safety when needed and a place to lay my head at night. Meanwhile, they were talking amongst themselves to hatch a plan for me, knowing that I needed some solid ground to place my paws upon, lest I end up on the streets for good.

This is how I met the people who would change my life: Tina McCready and Elfe. One of the neighbors knew kind-hearted Tina, and knew of Elfe's World from Facebook, a dog sanctuary on the Koh Samui. They called Tina, asking her to come meet me. 
It was love at first sight for us both when our eyes met. Tina was so touched by my condition. She saw I had been eating any scraps I could scavenge, and was  heartbroken at how thin I was. I was also covered in ticks, and they were making my young life a misery. But despite these hardships, I ran to Tina, tail wagging, to meet her and cuddle. 



I have a heart of gold, and only desire the company of kind humans. I also love playing with other dogs. I am on the submissive side and haven't met a friendly dog yet that I wouldn't play with. The neighbors also reported that I can be left alone, without chewing or destroying things - rare in a puppy my age. I am generally quiet, although I sometimes give a bark of happiness when I see people I love.
Tina knew I deserved a chance at a better life. She reached out to Elfe to ask if there was room for me at the sanctuary. Elfe has over 600 dogs to care for already, but when she heard my story, she agreed to take me in. 

So I was passed along from one area to another once again, this time to Elfe's dog and cat sanctuary, where I have been for two months among many friends, both dogs...

…and humans!

And Tina, my earth angel, became my monthly sponsor. For just 20 Euros a month -  less than $1 a day - some of us are sponsored by kind humans around the world who help Elfe do her yeoman's job by providing us with food, monthly flea and tick preventative, and medical care. We love it at Elfe's World and enjoy our island paradise! But for a small percentage of us, our dreams rise even higher…for a handful of us are chosen every year by loving families around the world who open their hearts to us and ask us to join their homes.

I am living that dream. 

I am flying to Chicago, USA on Friday where my new life will begin. And my guardian angels continue to stand by me - and now they are magically multiplying. Kind Tina, bless her to the moon and back, is paying for me to fly to the USA. I am grateful beyond words! Dear Elfe, who I love so very much, is kissing a tearful but elated goodbye to me this very morning as she sends me on my way to Bangkok. Wonderful Christine Sudmann is fostering me there for a few days while animal angel Soot Liang Woo prepares my final paperwork. Then Soot will take me to the airport and put me on the plane to Chicago. 

So many kind people passing this potato along to her final destination! I am so very thankful to all of them. But I have never wanted anything as badly as I now want - to be a "cool potato". Never to be passed again!

Are you the one waiting at the end of this chain of helping hands, ready to pull me into your arms and hold me there forever? I sure do hope so.

Thanks for reading my story.

Love, Rocket

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

Busy

• *** UPDATE!! ***
• November 2014

Busy left Elfes World on the island of Koh Samui early last week, flying to Bangkok with travel companions Babe, Rocket, and another small friend, Lee Lee (being adopted in Europe). 

All four dogs enjoyed four-star accommodations with lovely Bangkok foster mom Christine Sudmann, while sweet Soot Liang Woo made travel arrangements and completed all their paperwork to fly to the USA. 

Busy, Babe and Rocket arrived at O'Hare Airport on Friday, November 14, where they were greeted by Dawn and Chuck.

The following day, jet-lagged but cheerful and happy Busy was the star of our Petsmart adoption event! She received loads of love and attention from dozens of friendly passersby.

Busy continues to patiently await a loving forever home of her own. In the meantime, she is enjoying life at Dawn and Chuck's house.

For more information about adopting Busy, please contact 

Dawn Trimmel at (414) 426-4148. Thank you!

* * * * *

My name is Busy.

But for ten long months, since January of 2014, I have lived inside a cage. And so busy is exactly what I have not been. And I do so long to be "busy" again… 

I am smart as a whip, and a survivor who has learned to protect her broken heart. But inside of me, there is the puppy I once was, a little girl who is just longing to get out. 

If only the right person or people would come along and claim me as their own….what a different dog I would be. I am sure they could coax my puppy out - for the very first time. I would give them my heart on a platter, if only they would look into my eyes and return the love I have to offer them.

I have never been in anyone's spotlight. 

First, I was one of thousands of nameless strays, wary and alone, eking out an existence on rough streets amongst tough dogs. I was born into that life and knew nothing different. I could have been that "shadow dog" forever - and probably lived a short life with some untimely end: a motor accident, a purposeful poisoning by a local merchant, or any one of other common fates that we street dogs suffer.

Instead, when I was just three years old, I was caught where I lay sleeping. I was one of hundreds of unlucky dogs - among the unluckiest in the world - as I went through the first few steps of the illegal dog smuggling transports that ultimately deliver us to our horrific deaths - death-by-torture.

But by some miracle, I was one of the handful that were saved before the axe fell. 

Yet even then, despite being "saved", I was again one of thousands at the overcrowded government livestock center, which was the next step along the raggedy journey that had been my life. 

I was nameless again - unless you consider "NP-1680" to be a name. And I was again just another shadow face in a big crowd.

But then - I had my moment. 

My one moment.

Somebody saw my face peering out at them from a photo and for that one brief and wonderful moment, I - me! - I was the one in the spotlight. 

Kind people around the globe saw me and couldn't turn away. They made arrangements and a few weeks later, I was on a transport truck…

...which delivered me to Bangkok, for veterinary care, spay surgery, and quarantine…

…and then to my final destination on January 27, 2014: the island dog sanctuary of Elfes World in Koh Samui, Thailand where 620 of us who have been rescued live.

My brief moment in the blinding spotlight ended long ago. 

I have spent almost every minute here in a cage since then because I am so anxious around other dogs, especially those who are my size or smaller, that I turn into a churning ball of fearful nerves and need to be separated from them. I prefer the company of humans only. And humans are the one thing in short supply here…

These days I am once again a shadow girl. Maybe that is meant to be my fate forever, but I try not to believe this is so.

Elfe was so excited to be able to give me a new lease on life. It has broken her heart that I am worried and frantic around other dogs and cannot be loose with them. From the moment she realized I would need to be in a cage 24/7, she has been hoping for a home for me. She put me up for adoption almost immediately after my arrival, but I haven't even had a nibble, so she has asked the International Street Dog Foundation if they could help me find a home in the USA. I will arrive in America in just a couple of weeks. Maybe my fate will change then…I can only dream it is so.

Because soon I will have hit the one-year mark in this cage and both she and I are growing despondent.

With the exception of a few outings on leash with volunteers, I have lived in my cage for 10 months now. 

10 long months!!

The sad part is that I am so well-behaved, despite my imprisonment and boredom. I never say a word. I don't whimper, or make any noise, or bark, or even bite or paw at my cage bars.

I guess I am so complacent because this is the first time I have had a space of my own in my entire life. I have never known security from aggressive animals and ill-intentioned humans. It is also the first time I have been able to rely on food and water, every day. 

I guess you could say that these 10 months in my cage have, pathetically, been the best months of my life. So I am content to just sit and watch the world go by…and if this is all my life was meant to be forever, I accept that.

But I do dare to dream at night when all around me are sleeping and the sanctuary is finally quiet. Might there be something more…?

I am four years old, and our lives are not as long as you humans. Time waits for no man - and certainly for no dog. I have many years left still and I pray they will be "busy" and happy ones, but I wonder if I am asking too much.

And then the night is over, and I wake up to yet another day, viewed through the bars of my cage...

Sweet, kind Elfe is so busy, with approximately 620 of us to feed and care for every single day, and only one full-time helper. Luckily, many lovely volunteers and sponsors help her do the work that must get done every day - but work must always come first, so that leaves very little playtime at the end of the day for the ones who are like me.

Most of the dogs at Elfes World can live among large packs in protected enclosures, and over 100 can live in and around Elfe's enclosed house. But there is one thing that sets me and several others apart from these dogs, and that is that we are not overly fond of our own kind. 

Our lives have been hard and many of us have been the victims of aggressive street dog packs or were picked on by other dogs when living in the company of thousands at the livestock center after our rescue.

Although a few dogs inspire my trust, they are of a specific type: I find I can most easily trust large dogs that are very calm and give me my space. In fact, a home with no dogs at all would suit me just fine, too. 

I know the other dogs here think I'm odd because I prefer the company of humans over my own kind, but I have heard tales carried on the winds about humans. And I have heard rumors that some of them like the company of my kind, too, and that not all humans are looking for a romping puppy to take to the dog park every day - but that some just want a gentle friend and loving companion. I don't know if that's true but I'd like to believe it…

I know what I need is a tall order, which is why I am writing to all of you today in hopes that someone out there might know someone looking for a dog just like me - one with quirks, one whose heart is hidden under a few layers of hurt right now...but one who will give her people the world, if only they can give her a home with love, security, and a little bit of understanding and patience.

Although volunteers are stretched thin by Elfe's current burgeoning population, the ones who have been able to spend time with me all say the same thing: that although I am not scared of humans, I am a bit shy and detached. And wouldn't you be too, if you had lived the life I have?

Because every time I get out of my cage for some one-on-one time, my heart hurts just a little bit more. The volunteers who are able to visit with me are extremely few and far between - maybe one visit or two per month, maximum. There are just so many of us in need of attention. Thank goodness the barbaric dog meat trade is slowly, finally, being brought to its knees…but so many of us are in need and so few are helping, that I am one of many. 
So there I am - and I absolutely live for cuddles, belly rubs, and petting - and I soak up every kind word they whisper into my ears - but then they are gone. And it is hard for me to understand that they were only there for the day visiting, possibly never to return. And harder still for me to return to my cage and know I may not experience something like that again for a couple of weeks, maybe a month. Add to that, that the next time it happens, it will be another stranger again. 
I am a girl who life has let down so many times…consistency and routine are so important to me. I don't do well playing the lottery, and my heart is not strong enough to hope so hard each time.

But now I will fly to the USA in just a few weeks. A new life begins for me - but also many more changes. 
Again. 
I know I can do this - but I would be a liar if I said change isn't very scary for me these days.

Yet - is it really possible that one day I might, just might, shine in the center of someone's spotlight again? Not just for an hour, or a day…but for the rest of my life?

I promise I will give you 110% of me, if only you will make me yours.

Love, Busy

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

* * * * *

 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 they had enough of us to satisfy their greed and justify an legal smuggling run across the border.

 One day, 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 Nakorn Phanom 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. 

I was brought to Bangkok for veterinary care and then flown to the beautiful island of Koh Samui, to Elfesworld, a dog sanctuary.

When I arrived here 10 months ago, for the first time in my strife-filled life, I saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Here at Elfesworld, I am shown kindness and affection; I have learned confidence and am polishing my manners; and I have discovered the meaning of safety and love.
It has been a glimpse into a life I never even knew existed: lives where dogs might 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 in a real household.  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, Busy