Rescue on the Road: One Woman’s Mission to Save a Shelter Dog from Texas
By Nancy Turner
The Dalles, Ore., Aug. 17, 2025 — It pains me to read about people starving in countries in Africa and in Gaza. News is overwhelming. Besides human suffering, many pets are devastated. Local posts on Facebook and other social media do a noble job of alerting us to lost pets or those needing new homes.
But this is a tiny fraction of those needing help. The well-being of pets rides on our coattails. I have trouble figuring out how to respond. Being kind to neighbors and expressing gratitude gives me comfort. But some days even that isn’t enough. I have to avoid the news entirely, go outside, and let nature comfort me.
Many years ago, our family dog, Abe Lickin (he was the color of a new penny) disappeared. My five-year-old son and I went searching for him at the Portland Humane Society. One morning, Toby told me he’d had a dream that Abe had died and turned into a black and white dog. We didn’t give up searching. On our next anxious walk through the corridors of the Humane
Society, hoping we’d find Abe in one of the cages, we spotted a pile of squirmy puppies. Toby was all smiles for the first time in weeks. I let him pick one. She was a cuddly black and white ball of fur. We named her Maggie. When she grew beyond being a puppy, each school day, she walked up our driveway to sit and wait for Toby to get off the bus. She filled our house with dog hair and our hearts with love. Abe had indeed reincarnated.
Decades later, when I lived just outside Portland, I had two small dogs. Tragically, coyotes killed one. The remaining dog, Pollyanna, was grief-stricken. My mild-mannered Alaska Klee Kai began chewing carpets, chair legs, and the steering wheel of my truck. She’d always had a canine companion and couldn’t stand being alone. I had to do something.
At Petco, a couple was selling dogs they’d transported to Portland from a Los Angeles shelter where dogs waited on death row. Curled up in a crate was a white puppy that had lived his short life in a cage with no socialization or human contact. The rescuers told me he was a terrier/miniature poodle. When I picked him up he wrapped his tiny paws around my neck and melted into my shoulder. That’s how I became Pippin’s owner.
When you rescue a dog, you never know for sure what you’re getting. The high-pitched barking of dogs rattles my nerves. I told Pippin that if he turned into a yappy dog, I’d drop-kick him back to LA, where he came from. Pippin has turned out to be a gentle, quiet dog who only barks to protect us from raccoons, opossums, and strangers who have the nerve to walk down 14th Street. He was a true pal for Polly until cancer ended her life.
All shelters are struggling to function at overcapacity. I read that one overcrowded shelter in Texas struggles at 142% capacity. Texas shelters face some of the highest dog intakes in the country. The crisis is at epic proportions. For the Houston metro area, it’s estimated there are about 1.2 million stray animals right now. It’s mind-boggling. There are reasons for these overwhelming numbers.
Low-cost sterilization is scarce in South Texas. Part of the problem in southern states is that spaying/neutering isn’t culturally normalized. This results in fewer clinics, lower awareness, and more litter. Texas cities rank among the worst in the US for affordable, pet-friendly housing. Another part of the problem is animal hoarding with little or no regulation.
Weather makes a difference. Unlike northern states, where harsh winters limit survival, Texas’s mild climate enables dogs to reproduce year-round and stray populations to expand. Shelters often have a no-kill policy. Because local demand can’t keep pace, rescue groups often transport Texan dogs to the northeast and the West Coast. This makes Texas a net exporter of shelter dogs.
What can I do when there are millions? What came to mind was the story about a time when thousands of starfish landed on a beach. They were dying in the hot sun. A man walking along the sand picked up one at a time and flung it back into the sea. He did this for hours, but still hundreds remained on the shore. Someone asked him why he bothered; there were so many. He replied, “For this one, what I’m doing means the world.”
I started scanning websites. Of course, the spy on my computer saw what I was doing. It immediately deluged my screen with dog rescue sites. A friend assured me I wasn’t crazy. So I persisted. On the Mutts and Meows Rescue website, I spotted a little Maltese/Poodle mix that looks like he could be Pippin’s little brother. That stray had arrived at a foster home, unable to see where he was going. The matts covering his body and face were that bad. Maltese are good for elders like me because they are calm and small. Poodles don’t shed, a real plus. Still, adopting sight unseen is a gamble.
I called Ramona, the woman in Texas providing foster care. She said he's a sweet boy, a little shy but likes attention; healthy, approx 3 years old. No name of course. She calls him doggy or buddy.
Mutts and Meows hires a transport service that drives a van loaded with dogs from Texas to their new homes. If I paid their fee to cover expenses, he could be delivered to The Dalles by the end of this week.
Oh shit, am I really doing this? My cats will be so pissed.
Many dogs and cats end up in shelters because their owner have died. You’re probably wondering what happens to my dogs and 3.5 cats when I pass. (Orion lives half-time with a neighbor. We share custody.) I couldn’t stand the thought of burdening relatives, or worse, turning my pets over to a shelter. Here’s my plan: a couple who live across the street agreed to take my pets. My will states they are to receive $10,000 for pet care.
The van full of dogs headed north left Texas Sunday at 3:30 p.m. Mutts and Meows Rescue folks can’t predict what time the van will arrive in The Dalles. I was told it could be any time during the day or night. Just like a baby.
I don’t make a dent in the millions of dogs needing a home. But to this one dog, migrating here will mean a good life. Whether you send money to an organization that distributes food in foreign countries, adopt a cat, or write your senators to act with compassion, it is all worth it. Every bit counts.
Yes, I’ll send photos. Of course, I will send photos.
Support Local News!
Available for Everyone; Funded by Readers.
