10/27/2026
I promise you, this is an uplifting post. And one you don’t want to miss. 🤍
Tonight, I’m sitting here in tears. Not because something terrible happened, but because something incredibly beautiful did.
And after the last 48 hours, we needed this.
Rescue is emotionally exhausting. Some days, it feels like no matter how much you give, it’s never enough. You spend your days trying to save lives, your nights worrying about the ones in your care, and somehow, you still find yourself defending the very reason you do this work.
Earlier today, someone left a comment suggesting that we shouldn’t have helped Frankie because he’s a designer breed. That we are enabling breeders. That she has lost respect for our rescue.
We blocked her. And we don’t feel bad about it.
Because that mindset has absolutely no place in this rescue.
We don’t care if a dog is a $5,000 designer breed or a Heinz 57 found on the side of the highway. We don’t care what someone paid for their dog. We don’t care where they came from.
A dog in pain is a dog who deserves help. Period.
And something else we wish more people understood?
Our goal has never been to take dogs away from the people who love them.
Quite the opposite, actually.
If we can help keep a dog with the family who loves them, that’s a victory in our book.
Which brings us to Frankie. 🥹
After spending last night hospitalized, Frankie underwent an MRI and spinal tap today.
And y’all.
FRANKIE DOES NOT HAVE IVDD.
He does not need spinal surgery.
Instead, Frankie has been diagnosed with Steroid-Responsive Meningitis-Arteritis (SRMA), an immune-mediated disease that causes painful inflammation of the protective tissues surrounding the spinal cord and the associated blood vessels.
It’s serious. It requires aggressive steroid treatment for approximately six months, close monitoring, and another night in the hospital.
But it’s treatable.
And tonight, we got to make one of the most meaningful phone calls we’ve made recently in rescue.
We called Frankie’s mama, Christina, to tell her that her baby is coming home.
Not to a foster home.
Not to another adoptive family.
HOME. To the family who never stopped loving him.
The same family who faced an impossible decision to surrender him to the vet because they couldn’t afford the immediate medical care their five-month-old puppy desperately needed.
The same family who loved him enough to let him go so he could have a chance to live.
And now, they get their baby back.
Frankie is expected to go home this week. His family already has insurance in place for his continued care.
And they don’t owe Dog Squad a single penny.
Not for the emergency visits. Not for his hospitalization. Not for his MRI or spinal tap.
Nothing.
Because rescue isn’t always about finding a dog a new family.
Sometimes it’s about making sure a dog doesn’t have to lose the family he already has.
I’m crying as I write this.
We’ve spent the last two days running on fumes.
But tonight, none of it matters.
Because a little five-month-old puppy gets to go home to his mama.
And a family who thought they had said goodbye to their baby gets a second chance they never imagined they’d have.
This. This is why we do it.
Not for recognition. Not for praise. And certainly not because it’s easy.
We do it for the dogs. And sometimes, we get to help the humans who love them, too.
To Christina and Frankie’s family: Thank you for trusting us with your baby. We know how much you love him, and we cannot begin to imagine what these last few days have felt like for you. We’re just grateful we get to help bring him home.
And to every single person who donated, shared his story, defended his family, or simply hoped for a miracle:
You helped give this family their baby back.
I don’t think there are words big enough for that.
And as for the woman who insinuated earlier that Frankie wasn’t worth saving because of his breed?
You don’t deserve the privilege of following along to see how his story ends.
Because while you were deciding which dogs were worthy of being saved, we were busy saving one.
And this week, that little dog gets to go home to the family who loves him.
That’s the difference between judging a life and actually making a difference in one.
Welcome home, Frankie. ❤️
You were always loved. You were never unwanted.
And the very best part of your rescue story is that you get to go home to the people who never wanted to let you go.
