Mona (Adopted!)

* * * UPDATE * * *

May 2013
Mona was adopted by a loving family in Chicago, USA! She said goodbye to her foster mom, Patarin, and journeyed here this week, alongside her good buddy, Peanut. They arrived on Friday, May 10.

Mona was welcomed with open arms into the United States by Dawn, Chuck, Ayize, and myself at O'Hare Airport.

She was a courageous girl who stepped right out of her crate, ready to meet the world, with her wagging tail and big fox-like smile - a real lover and cuddler. She stole our hearts within minutes of meeting her.

After a quick checkup by the vet, she and Peanut stayed one night with Dawn before setting off on a grand adventure to be united with their forever families.



Dawn, Chuck, Ayize and I drove both doggies first to Aurora, Illinois, where we met Peanut's new mom, Caitlin. He immediately warmed to his mom's kind, patient ways - so touching to watch!



Chuck and Dawn dropped us off on the return journey and then headed off to deliver Mona to her new mom and dad, Kelly and Nate, in Chicago. Mona and her new parents and doggie sister got along like a house on fire from the moment she arrived. The two sisters are even sleeping side-by-side on the sofa as of yesterday - we could not be more thrilled to hear this happy news!

 

Mona clearly made herself right at home instantly, as photos attest - she quickly staked out the best sleeping spots and claimed them for herself!

We are so happy to hear about all of her adventures! Despite all she has endured, Mona is truly a sweet, affectionate and very playful little girl underneath it all.

Thank you to all who made this possible, from Patarin and the Magic 10 Club for pulling, transporting, vetting, and fostering Mona; to Mona's new parents, who ran an amazing fundraiser for her, and to all the kind-hearted international sponsors who also generously donated to help cover her costs; to Mona's adoring new family who welcomed her with open arms.

An extensive update on Mona can be found here. 
Sadly, she was diagnosed with a type of venereal tumor - but her amazing parents never wavered from their commitment to her, and she is completely cured now. She continues to thrive with her family and doggie sister, and we are so grateful and relieved for this plucky survivor.
Amazing Mona - we adore you!

* * * * *

My name is Mona. 

Just look at me now! 

I'm in foster care with Patarin, at her home in Bangkok. I pinch myself every morning when I wake up here, because my life has taken a 180-degree shift in the past few weeks and it all seems too good to be true.

And as if all I have now isn't enough, Pat has been telling me that a family in Chicago has chosen me - yes, ME! - to be their very own doggie daughter. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what a family of my own would even mean exactly...but I'm eager to find out!

But let me back up a bit, because I didn't always look this happy. In fact, this might be the first time in my life that I've ever actually been happy.
So let me begin at the beginning.

Once, when I was very small, I became one of the hundreds of thousands of street dogs of Thailand who are collected and crammed into cages set on end - the better to shove in the maximum number of dogs per minimum number of cages.
I don't even remember how I ended up with a cruel pair of metal pincers around my throat, which were used to push me down into a rusty wire crate not even large enough to hold me comfortably - let alone so many other poor souls. 

Was I a wandering stray, a young dog who was still innocent enough to be tempted towards an unfriendly-looking man because I was so hungry for whatever food he used as bait? Was my human family impoverished, and did they trade in my undying loyalty for some desperately-needed commodity, such as a plastic wash basin? (This is actually a very common method by which dogs like me are procured.) 

Was I fast asleep, curled into a ball, alone on a quiet street corner, when the men came upon me and took me where I lay?
I have wondered about why I was snatched, on that fateful night...and I have wondered about why fate intervened and the Royal Thai Police saved me by capturing the smugglers, a few days later. 
As the tarps that nearly smothered us were pulled aside, and I breathed fresh air at long last, I knew I was one of the luckiest dogs to ever suffer a brush with the horrific meat trade of neighboring nations, who prey upon Thailand's dog overpopulation problem.
What I didn't know was, What next?
I had my answer when our crates were unloaded at a government livestock center called Khemmarat, where we were finally freed from the horrid confines we had been in for days.

We were all so weak - so starved - so dehydrated. But despite this, we were herded into enclosures that suffered from massive overcrowding. To make matters worse, the shelter has severe food shortages, little shelter from the elements, and almost no veterinary care for all of us. Thai animal welfare organizations tried their best to run mobile spay/neuter clinics when they could, but the tide of incoming dogs rose weekly, and under these unfavorable conditions, suffering grew exponentially.
 I, in particular, was the target of much persecution at the hands of larger, more dominant dogs, and I longed for a break from my frequent torment, but there was nowhere I could hide in a small space that was absolutely packed with dogs. 
A year passed, and dogs came and dogs went...but no one ever came for me. 
I learned to survive in these conditions, but never to thrive. There was no such thing as relaxation, not even for a moment, and I dreamed of the day I would leave - one way or the other. On my worst days, I wondered why I had survived in the first place, if only to suffer like this again.
Things got even more unbearable for me when I realized I was going to be a mama. This was no place to have my babies, or to try to raise them. 
I was nearly all out of hope. 



And then one day, a miracle occurred! 
Patarin and the Magic 10 Club saw my photo, heard my sad story, and secured sponsorship from international supporters to have me removed from the shelter and taken for veterinary and foster care in Bangkok. And just in the nick of time! My babies were imminently on their way, and I was in no condition to see them into this world safely. 
I endured a grueling transport to Bangkok, in labor, where my babies were immediately born, helped into this world by kind veterinary staff and a Caesarean section. I was saddened to discover that I could not even care for my own babies because I couldn't produce milk - I was so weak and exhausted by my past year of suffering, by a pregnancy under the worst of conditions, and by my emergency surgery. 
A few days later, I watched as my six sweet little babies left the clinic, destined for foster homes with loving, caring human mamas. I consoled myself with this thought, as I healed and enjoyed having a safe space in my clinic crate that was all my own for the first time in my memory. 



I knew that two of my babies were quite ill, and I later heard they did not survive beyond a couple of weeks. My heart was broken, but it was made whole again to learn that the rest of my precious babies survived, and are soon on their way to loving forever homes. 
I grieve for the lost pair, but am so grateful for the fortunate four. May their puppyhoods, and their future lives, be filled with as much joy as I have known in sadness! That is my only wish...



Soon, it was my turn to leave the clinic. I was frightened, and wondered where to next? Back to the mean streets, to run from smugglers day and night...or back to nightmarish Khemmarat, now that my babies had been successfully seen off into the big wide world? 
But no - much to my joyful amazement, I found myself at kind Patarin's house, where she took me under her wing for foster care. 
I have been thriving under her loving care and affection ever since. She has given me an abundance of TLC, and now I love cuddling and taking walks with her, and playing with the other small, friendly dogs at the house that I feel comfortable with. 
Kikku was my very good buddy - a fellow survivor. She left Patarin's house a few days ago, and hasn't come back...but everyone seems so happy and excited about this that I feel certain something really fantastic awaited her!



I've never known such affection and attention in all of my life. I didn't even know such a thing existed. And let me tell you, now that I know about it - I can truly say that it's INCREDIBLE!!
I have seen the very worst that life has to offer...and now I have seen the very best. I just cannot believe that it could get any better. But Patarin's personal doggies whisper in my ear, when the house is quiet, late at night, and tell me, "Just watch and see...when you have a family of your very own....."
So for the first time in my life, I'm experiencing this funny new feeling. 
I think it's called hope.

Despite what those horrible dog smugglers thought of me, I am more than the price of a plastic wash basin. I am more than some bits of beef on a paper plate, tortured for tenderness before slaughter. I am more than someone's passing, thoughtless meal.

I am Mona, a victim of the dog meat trade.

And I am worth it.

Simba/Ambrose

* * * UPDATE * * *

"Please help me!"



November 2014

Simba, now called Ambrose, was adopted in June 2013 after his arrival from Thailand. Tragically, his adopter's circumstances have changed and he is no longer able to keep him. 

If you have read this sweet boy's story below, you already know he is the true meaning of the word "survivor". This, too, he shall survive and thrive - we believe that. We are praying that this twice-lucky boy will land on his feet one third, last time in the loving and forever arms of a family he can call his very own for the rest of his days.

Please share sweet Simba's story far and wide and help us find the perfect people for him. Thank you - from us, and from Simba.

* * * * *

Simba said goodbye to foster mom Patarin on the first day of June, 2013 and journeyed to Los Angeles alongside four other lucky dogs, thanks to a kind-hearted flight volunteer. 

Simba continued on to Chicago solo. He arrived here on Sunday, June 2, 2013. He was welcomed to the USA by Dawn, Ayize, and myself at O'Hare Airport. 
He was an absolute sweetheart from the first, coming eagerly out of his crate and cuddling like a pro. He was inquisitive about all of us and everything around him, and eagerly accepted and asked for pets from Ayize - such a brave boy!
He stole our hearts within moments of meeting him.





Simba spent a few days with Dawn at her home after his arrival before joining his adoptive family, which included another dog. Simba was a wonderful companion to his new family and even enjoyed snow, which he discovered for the first time last winter.



Patarin, Simba's foster mom in Bangkok, visited the USA this summer. She and I visited Simba at his adoptive parent's workplace and met his big brother as well.



Simba was a little intimidated around other dogs but performed obedience commands with class dogs and pet store customers all around him. He also enjoyed receiving attention from us and from my young son, who was excited about the reunion.
It was such a delight to see Simba again after one year had passed - he was as sweet, affectionate, and gentle as ever!

We were so thrilled for this sweet boy, who survived first the horrors of the dog meat trade, and then the terrible storm that ravaged Buriram livestock shelter. A true miracle boy!

Now Simba must overcome one last obstacle…finding the family he will stay with for the rest of his days. This sweet boy needs security, stability, and the promise of forever. Please help us make that dream a reality for him. Please share his story far and wide.

* * * * *

My name is Simba.

This is me in early 2013, at the government livestock center in northern Thailand where we dogs who were saved from meat smugglers went to live.

 I know I looked like a giant, red, furry fox but I was actually only two years old in this photo, and weighed in at just 22 lbs. And I think my hair accounted for five of those pounds...

 

Living in a tropical climate with a coat like mine was not easy. We endured record highs that summer, with many days in the 100s. And rather than spending those days in front of a cool fan, I had to sweat them out there at the Buriram livestock center, amidst overcrowded conditions, with almost no shelter from the elements to speak of.

I'm a timid guy, so although there is shade available to the toughest of the canines who can fight their way onto a protected, covered sala, there was hardly any shade at Buriram for the likes of me. And so I waited...and waited...for my fate to change. All the while, enduring the blazing sun, and trying to sleep and dream away the very worst and hottest spells of each afternoon.

Little did I know that far across an ocean, people were looking at my photo - supplied by kind-hearted angel Patarin - and saying that yes - they would help me! They would save me from this hell on earth and bring me across the ocean to find me a real home, a real family. I couldn't have known that.

Nor could I have known that those same people would be absolutely devastated when a freak summer storm hit our shelter in late April 2013 and tore it asunder, leaving uprooted trees everywhere in its wake - fences ripped right out of the ground - and many of my fellow dog friends, escaped and at risk of running back into the hands of horrid and barbaric illegal dog meat traders...

Many wept and worried over my fate and the fate of all of the other poor dogs of Buriram. But me and my buddies Manja and Toby - also at Buriram, and also spoken for by ISDF - all had the smarts to stick around the shelter. We didn't yet know that we were about to be saved, but a little voice in our heads whispered to us to have faith and stay put, and luckily we did.

ISDF friends - a team from Soi Dog Bangkok, headed by Pimpakharn - came as quickly as they could. They searched through the devastation and amazingly, found me, Toby, and Manja, hiding within the ravaged shelter compound still, safely out of harm's way.

And then we were OUT! We were finally free of the Buriram livestock center, having been transported by truck to safety by another angel on earth, Pimpakharn and her team from Soi Dog Bangkok!

At their merciful hands, we received medical treatment, shelter from the elements, plenty of food and water, and lots of loving TLC.

Shortly thereafter, we traveled to Patarin's vet for vaccinations and a final checkup before heading to her house for loving foster care while we awaited placement in homes of our own.

I had been so badly burned by life and had only ever known sorrow and cruelty at the hands of man. 
However, Pimpakharn reported that after my arrival at Soi Dog Bangkok, my personality did a 180-degree turnaround. She, Patarin, and my other Thai friends and helpers said that although I was quite shy at first, as soon as they won my trust by showing me they meant no harm, I turned back into the puppy I never got to be! I let my sweet side show, begging for snuggles and pats. I could wag my tail faster than a bird flaps its wings, and I followed them around as if I was their shadow. 
And I will follow you to the ends of the earth...if you'll let me.
Will you let me?

I was just so grateful to discover that there was actually such a thing as kind people in this world - a revelation!

My pal Toby (now Malee) went to her amazing new family, including a pack of pooches, in eastern Canada. My buddy Manja went to a lovely family in the Chicagoland area where she joined another doggie pal and two young kids who are her new best friends. 
I thought I had found my happily-ever-after a year ago, too, but now I find myself once more in need of open arms.

Might those arms belong to you?

Thank you so much for reading my story.
Love, Simba

For more information about adopting Simba 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 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 Nakhon Phanom - and then, much later - at the Buriram government-run shelters, two 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.

For the first time in my strife-filled life, I am seeing the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. In my foster home in Bangkok, I am being shown kindness and affection; I am learning confidence, and polishing my manners; and I am discovering the meaning of family, and the meaning of love. It has 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, Simba