The Pongo Fund (2025)

01/08/2025

Because sometimes when you don’t say goodbye,
goodbye says goodbye for you.

Those are the worst times.

He never came home.

Home was a small field where six sober men lived.

They had no dogs, until the last man showed up.

He had a little guy in tow. A small Chihuahua. Think Chihuahua. Then think smaller.

The man showed up and asked if he could stay. They told him the rules. He accepted them as a Blessing. The dog was a Blessing too.

The man and dog had found each other a few weeks earlier. No tags. No microchip. No pictures on any websites.

The dog was unneutered.

The man learned of a vet about a mile away. They offered a low-cost neuter and he set out to raise the money. Neuter, vaccinations, microchip. The full enchilada, that’s what this dog was to receive.

Then the man left one morning and did not return. He left so early that no one had a chance to say goodbye. Goodbye said goodbye for them.

But the dog was still there, sound asleep just like always.

I knew these men because they used to have a dog. The Pongo Fund helped take care of that dog. The man with the dog moved away, but The Pongo Fund continued to check in on the other men.

Every few weeks we would bring lunch, and together we would sit near the freeway eating sandwiches. It might not make sense, but it was pretty nice.

The men decided they would continue caring for this little dog. They would also get him neutered. But they did not have any money saved for the neuter, so they were starting from scratch.

They did not know how long it would take, but they would do what they could do.

The thing was, they did not want any help. Each one of those men had been let down, or they had let someone down. They no longer relied on others.

The Pongo Fund could not pay for the neuter. That was their rule.

They were about $100 short.

These were nice guys. Really nice. They deserved the best life had to offer. Their self imposed exile was something they had come to terms with. We just shared sandwiches every now and then. There was no need to judge or second guess. Or worst of all, to try and rationalize.

But they had foxtails. Lots of them.

We explained the dangers of foxtails. None of them knew about them, most people don’t. Until you learn the hard way. And we didn’t want foxtails to happen to their little Chihuahua buddy.

Clearing the foxtails would take a lot of time. Many hours, especially by hand.

I offered them $100 to clear the foxtails. Not to just make it safer for their little Chihuahua, but for any other dog or cat or animal that might end up in that field. I was asking them to do it as a community service. The money was for them to buy gloves, water, whatever they needed.

I also happened to have some gloves I’d picked up at a local store. Extra gloves. Maybe they could use them to pull the foxtails.

And then maybe they could use the $100 to finish paying for the neuter.

I was being sneaky. Or I thought I was being sneaky.

So much for that plan.

They figured out pretty fast what I was trying to do. To get them to use the $100 to get the dog neutered. They said no thank you.

They cleared the foxtails anyway. It took many hours. I was amazed.

A week or so later I finally told them that I needed to help, I didn’t want them to miss the chance to get the dog vaccinated and neutered. I told them I wanted to pay for the neuter.

They said no.

They said no because they didn’t want to let me down.

They worried that they might miss the appointment. They didn’t want a ride or a wake up call or anything of the sort. As they said, it’s just that things happen when you live in a field. And they didn’t want the responsibility of something getting in the way and them not showing up. They didn’t want to do that to the veterinarian, or to The Pongo Fund.

As I said before, these were really nice guys. They made their point.
They would get there when they had the rest of the money. The next $100.

And they would do it on their terms.

The thing is, they made total sense. We all want to be independent. They did too.

We found a middle ground.

If I gave them $100, that $100 would give them enough money to get the dog neutered. But I had to give it to them. Not to the vet. I needed to trust them. That’s what they said.

What they didn’t know, is that I’d been trusting them for a long time already.

They didn’t have a day picked for the neuter, but they would get it scheduled. They had a wagon so they could wheel their little buddy to and fro. The only thing was, I had to agree not to keep checking on them as to when it would get done.

Agreed.

I gave them the $100.

A few weeks later I stopped by.

The little dog was neutered and vaccinated and microchipped. He had a really cool collar with name tags, and one of them had The Pongo Fund phone number on it as a backup. He also wore a St. Francis medallion for eternal protection.

The men are all gone now, their campsite became too busy from others who were not sober. The six men left. The six men, and the little dog. We didn’t talk about where they were going, only where they’d been.

I’m thankful we had a chance to say goodbye.

I know we’ll run into them again. Not sure where or when. I just know…

If you read all of these words, I thank you. That was really kind of you to do.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

19/07/2025

He was about three and a half feet tall.

He waltzed in like he owned the place.

He sat down and placed a lunch bag in front of him. It said Jack in the Box. He didn’t say a word.

He was 6 years old. We didn’t know it at the time. We found out a few seconds later. That’s when his Mom walked in. She moved with pain.

We knew she was coming, her caseworker had called. But we didn’t know about him. It’s no big deal, except when a big is bringing a little, we like to be prepared to make sure the little one leaves with joy. We don’t want them to think about things the way they are, but the way we’d like them to be.

For him, we didn’t want him to think about his Mom not being able to afford dog food. We wanted him to think that she was a hero for finding The Pongo Fund to get food.

His Mom was prepared. The Jack in the Box helped.

The bag sat in front of him like a small statue. He said his Mom had lunch at her meeting, that’s why there was only one bag. Because she wasn’t hungry.

He was right, she had been at a meeting earlier. We knew that, that’s why we were meeting when we did. Because the meeting she had was the kind of meeting she could not miss. They were once a week. Used to be once a day. She was getting better.

He said they were having an Adventure Day. The Adventure Day part was a couple words she used to let him know there would be something special. Mom had no money. That meant special days had to come in other kinds of ways. But every now and then she found magic, like that day. She had an extra five dollars, that was the magic. And that meant her son got to have a Jack in the Box Adventure.

He asked if I wanted a French fry.

The bag wasn’t open yet, it just sat there with a tight fold across the top. But he knew there were fries because he asked for them. I knew it too, because when there are fries, you smell fries.

I knew that little $5 bag was the equivalent of lottery winnings for someone else. And that meant he was offering me, a total stranger, one of the most important things in his life. One of his fries.

You bet I said yes.

He said we’d have to wait a minute until his Mom said it was ok to start. He reminded me again that she wasn’t hungry, that she had already eaten at her meeting.

I had a funny feeling about that.

She was really proud of her son. She thought she was going to lose him. She was working really hard to not let that happen.

She did go to a meeting. But she didn’t have lunch. What else she didn’t have was any more money for Jack in the Box. That was why there was only one bag. She said it with her eyes.

He didn’t need to know that.

Their dog was 11 or 12 or something. She’d had him forever. Him and her son, those were her best friends. He was hungry, that’s why they were at The Pongo Fund. I worked on the food order for him. He liked chicken and he liked both wet and dry food, but he rarely got wet food because it cost as much as the Jack in the Box and she didn’t have that kind of money right now.

I told her not to worry, we had it covered. She didn’t always have gas in her car, so making sure they left with enough food to last a while was important. Those are the moments we love. Being able to take care of someone the best we can.

Her son sat in our food bank in a sturdy orange colored chair that was probably 50 years old and swung his legs back and forth. He watched me. He watched his Jack in the Box bag. He watched his Mom who was just a few steps away from him.

But he never opened that bag.

He loved cars and talked about a Hot Wheels car he had at home. Not a whole bunch of them. Just one. But he loved it.

I told him I loved Hot Wheels too. On a lark, I asked him if he had a sleeping bag. He said he knew what it was but he didn’t have one but one day he would and he would sleep in the backyard in a tent.

He didn’t know that a few feet away we had a kids sized sleeping bag covered in Hot Wheels. And he didn’t know that a few minutes from then, it would be his.

We got the dog food into Mom’s car. I had a feeling that each time she started it, she prayed it would start. We tucked the sleeping bag inside too. Mom said he would go nuts when he got home and saw it. Especially since things like that were definitely not in the budget.

A few feet away he waited inside, with the Jack in the Box bag still in front of him. He was a great kid, you could tell.

Mom asked if there was any way we would let him eat while he was there. She said it was ok if we didn’t, it was just that he looked so happy there. She warned me that with an entire 6’ long table to spread his lunch out on, that he might build a racetrack out of French fries. She asked if that would be ok.

Of course it would be ok, I said. Because I knew that nothing would make that table happier.

On the inside I cried.

She sat across from him, in an orange chair just like his. He asked if he could open the bag. She said yes.

A second later he screamed.

Because in that moment, the world was extra good.

Someone at that Jack in the Box had done something extra special. No words were needed. Someone just did something extra.

Inside that bag were two orders. I don’t know if the counter person made it happen, or if another customer in line secretly paid for another meal for Mom. Maybe it was another Mom with a little kiddo and maybe she remembered the hard times too.

They sat there for half an hour eating and laughing. They had burgers and fries and drinks.

And yes, even in all the excitement, this little Gandhi made sure I got my French fry too.

When Mom got home and unloaded the car, when her kittle kiddo carried his new Hot Wheels sleeping bag inside and unrolled it for the first time, which of course would happen that very minute, they would find a small envelope with a card inside, written with love from another Mom with another little kiddo.

A card telling this Mom to stay strong, that she was doing great, and that one day she would be writing a card for yet another Mom who needed to hear those same words.

Words of strength, from one Mom to another.

Along with the handwritten card was a gift card to the local big box store, a card that would likely be used for basics like shampoo and toothpaste and toilet paper, nothing exciting but everything would be an Adventure.

Because Moms always know how to make the best Adventures.

The Pongo Fund is a Pet Food Bank. But sometimes, we get to be part of the magic too.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

18/07/2025

She said “thanks for nothin.’

She didn’t say it as much as she shouted it.

Weird thing was, she wasn’t even on the call. Her boyfriend was. But as the call ended, as he said thank you to our volunteer who handled the call, she jumped in with “thanks for nothin.”

There was no judgment. They were just words.

And a reminder, that the calls we get, they all have emotion.

Welcome to the wonderful world of The Pongo Fund. Where you just never know…

The man was trying to rehome his cat. Her cat, actually. Apparently he had bought it for her somewhere. Not neutered or vaccinated or anything of the sort. He followed his heart, not his head. He’d never had a cat before, but for some reason he decided this was the cat to get. And he was sure his girlfriend would love this cat.

He was wrong. She did not love cats.

He called The Pongo Fund hopeful. Not sure why he was hopeful, since he apparently didn’t know anything about us. Someone told him to call us, so he did.

It was all a longshot. What they wanted to do and how quickly they wanted to do it. It was just a mess. That’s what the Pongo volunteer told me who handled that call.

Our volunteer talked about rehoming options and anything else he could share. It sounded like the decision was firm. The little cat must go.

But the most troubling part was what happened after the call ended.

Because it didn’t end.

The man thought he ended the call, but he didn’t. It’s happened to all of us. We think we click to end, but somehow, it keeps going. And that’s why this call went on for several more seconds.

That’s when our volunteer heard how upset this woman was. As he told me, it had nothing to do with men or women or cats, but mostly with some anger about something. Anger on top of anger. And now it was all being directed at this man who made the call.

But as our volunteer said, the worst part was, the only loser in all of this was the cat, who was likely going to get dumped. And the thought of that crushed him. So he made a promise to this cat he would never meet, to do everything he could to help.

The next day our volunteer called the man back. He had good news. He had found a rescue group that would take the cat. And the reason he found a group that would take the cat, is because he personally agreed to pay for all the expenses to get this cat ready for adoption. All the man needed to do was take the cat to the rescue group. And that was that.

It wasn’t a James Bond sort of plan. Nothing that exciting. The man would take the cat to the group and the group would call our volunteer to let him know they had the cat. It was that simple.

Except the group never called.

Because the man never went.

Going against his better judgment, our volunteer called the man back. It was voice mail only. And that’s where it ended.

We’ve been in these situations before, where we find a way to make something happen and then it doesn’t happen. The person with the dogs or cats decides not to follow through. It’s life. But not good.

It hit hard.

Because it always hits hard.

And then...

A week or two later or however long it was, out of the blue, the man called our volunteer. He apologized for not following through. He said at the time, it all felt like more than he could handle. But he said he knew he made the right decision.

The cat stayed. The girlfriend didn’t.

Our volunteer quickly learned that this man had a bigger heart than wallet. And that’s why he was calling back. To ask our volunteer to share all of the resources with him once again, so he could make sure and get the cat vaccinated and neutered. He had limited funds but vowed he would get it done. As it turned out, The Pongo Fund was able to help with cat food as one of our distribution sites was just minutes away.

This all happened a couple years ago.

Fast forward and once again, out of the blue, the man called our volunteer. The man was going through some paperwork and found all of the notes from his previous calls. The man said he felt compelled to call again and say thank you, because he wasn’t sure he had ever said thank you. So he said thank you from all of them.

From him.

From the cat he never thought he would get to keep.

And from the other cat he adopted from the rescue group he never followed through with the first time.

It was a thank you from all three of them. And as I was told, it was perfect.

If you've read this far, I ask you please, to let's focus our energy on the happy ending. Not any mean comments about someone's anger. This one ended well. One man and two happy cats are to be celebrated. Please join me in doing that. Meow.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.

thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

05/07/2025

He asked if we could babysit his dog.

From 8-12, that was the request.

More specifically, could we care for his dog from 8pm – 12am. For a few nights only, that was the help he needed. Because he feared his dog was going to die, and he didn’t want him to die alone. Previous vet visits had raised some concerns, and the man was doing his best to keep his friend comfortable.

He worked nights, this proud septuagenarian, who was working to pay off his wife’s funeral expenses. Missing one night of work could mean losing their apartment, that’s how tight the dollars were. It wasn’t a fancy apartment and it wasn’t a fancy job, but he couldn't afford to lose either.

His dog was an old guy. We’ll call him BoBo.

One eye worked, one didn’t. Some aches and pains and all the normal things that come with being 16, maybe 17, maybe 18. They never knew for sure. Didn’t matter. They went by love, not age. And for this little guy, love was all he knew.

That’s why the man called us for help. Because he knew we would love his little BoBo too. He knew he couldn't turn back time. He just didn't want BoBo to be alone.

He called The Pongo Fund because several years earlier we had helped them many times with food. He remembered the difference we made and thought we might have some suggestions.

The thing is, we’re not a day care or night care or anything like that. But the stars aligned and someone said yes, they would do the late-night shift.

Not only was the timing good, so was the geography. These two souls lived not far from one another. One who loved his dog. The other, the proxy. Double the love for one little dog.

The first night when the man called to get BoBo, he learned that he was completely zonked out. That wasn’t normal. For the last several nights, BoBo had struggled to sleep. He groaned all night.

The man knew the dog had a broken heart having just lost his Mom. The man and the dog shared that same broken heart. But all that groaning, the man knew there was something more. And now he learned the dog was sound asleep. And snoring. They agreed to move the pickup to the next morning.

He was especially shocked to learn the little guy had enjoyed a late night snack. He had not been showing much interest in food, and then suddenly, he's eating fourth meals!

The next night they were at it again, meeting just before 8pm. The man once again shared his concerns about his dog’s overall health. The heart murmur, the wonky bloodwork, the groaning all night. His worry was fair. We all worry about our friends. And yet again, the little guy slept like a rock.

I won’t tell you about the third night.

But happily it was more of the same.

Sound asleep with a symphony of snores.

Somehow this little dog, with all that was going on, wasn’t ready to say goodbye. The story was not so simple, but for now, let’s make it simple. The dog, with a little bit of help, still had plenty of life.

The overnight plan kept on for several nights. Then some changes were made to the man’s schedule, and the overnights were no longer needed.

The man, the dog, and the woman who provided respite care, all stayed in touch. Because she fell in love with that little dog too.

And that led to one more step. The man’s terrible fear of what would happen to BoBo if anything happened to him. He doesn’t worry about that anymore.

Because the woman who said yes once, said yes again. BoBo could most certainly stay with her, if the time ever came.

It's been several weeks and BoBo is doing great. Even the fourth meals are still part of the plan. Just a teeny tiny late night snack compliments of The Pongo Fund.

It's a special food that we use for special cases.

And BoBo loves it!

Serendipity.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

12/06/2025

Gizmo the kitty died. He was 16.

He was also Porkchop and Billy and Tiny and Binx and a hundred other names. We’re not sure if he crossed The Rainbow Bridge or if he decided to stay closer to home. That’s where we met him. At his home. He just didn’t know it yet.

Or maybe he did.

We got the call from a woman who said there was a tiny kitten under her house. She said he’d been there for a few days and he was really loud. She said no matter what she did he would not budge. She asked The Pongo Fund if we would go underneath the house and rescue the kitten.

The Pongo Fund was just a puppy then. We were still trying to find our place and we said yes to just about anything we could do to make a difference. But we weren't excited about the chance to crawl underneath her house to rescue this kitten. Plus we knew there were others far more skilled than we were.

She asked, do you have any crates? Yes, we did.

She asked, do you have any blankets? Yes, we did.

She asked, do you have a car? Yes, we did.

Then she said, so what’s taking you so long to get here. You’ve got everything you need to get this done. She said it as a statement, not a question.

Then the kicker.

She said she was just a little old lady.

Then as an extra zinger, she asked if we needed her to crawl underneath her house to show us how to rescue a cat. She didn’t say it to shame us.

Then again, maybe she did.

Two of us showed up to that call. It was sloppy weather. And yes, the little kitten was there. Just far enough away to not be easy to reach. We crawled through muck. The cat never even tried to get away. He was covered in mud, just a lot of slop. We learned later he had a pretty nasty leg fracture, and was in a lot of pain.

As soon as we got ourselves back out, the woman put her face right up tight to the crate door and started talking to him. She told him that she was glad he picked her house for shelter.

The other volunteer with me was a total cat person and took the cat to his vet for care. That’s when we learned about the leg fracture and a few other things. The vet said it would not be unreasonable to euthanize the kitten, based on his overall poor condition. Our volunteer said no, let’s give it a try to save his life.

And they did.

He stayed with our volunteer for a while to recover. He was the life of the party, this little guy. Then out of the blue, the woman who called us initially, the one who called herself just a little old lady, called to find out how he was. We gave her the update, and she asked if we could bring him by so she could say hi.

She made clear she was not able to adopt him, just too many things in her life then that would not let that be possible. But she said she knew a good cat when she saw one, and that he was a good cat. She just wanted to see him again, now that he was feeling better.

They went inside and the kitten and the lady gushed over each other, with lots pf purrs and mews and I love yous shared.

A few days later, she called again.

And that’s when little Gizmo went home to his new home that was actually his old home. Only this time, he was inside the house, not under it.

Over the years he somehow managed to get loose twice. Both times, he ended up in the same place as when we met him. Only this time he was full of kitty sass and he just laid there and made himself comfortable. But he knew where the food bowl was, and both times he only stayed under the house for a little while before he made his way back inside.

Each time the woman said they had a long talk about it not being ok to scare her like that. She probably told him that same story, that she was just a little old lady. Which technically was true, but it was the way she said it, with added flair.

Over the years she became a devoted foster Mom for several cats, all of which decided that her home was where they would stay. She said she really didn’t do anything special, that it was the kitties that deserved all the credit.

She made a donation to The Pongo Fund in memory of Gizmo. I called to thank her. I told her I was matching her donation so that it would go twice as far.

Then she said, “I loved him a lot. And I will sure miss him a lot.”

We know…

In loving memory of Gizmo.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

10/06/2025

It’s been 34 days since my last Facebook post. That's too long.

She said her cat got in a fight and needed vet care. She was calling The Pongo Fund to pay for the care. We asked her what care was needed? Said she didn’t know, she hadn’t been to the vet yet. We asked when the cat got into the fight. She said about a week earlier.

Our volunteer tried to confirm the details. The cat got into a fight a week earlier, but she hadn’t been to the vet yet, and she was calling The Pongo Fund to pay for whatever was needed. Was that right?

The caller said yes, that was about right.

Our volunteer asked her what she thought would be needed. She said wound cleaning, sutures, antibiotics, and probably a follow up visit. The cat might also need some intravenous medication since there was an active infection. Our volunteer said that was fairly specific, and asked her how she knew all that without having gone to the vet.

“Because it’s the third time this year he’s been in a fight and that’s what he needed the other two times.”

Welcome to The Pongo Fund. Where every call seems to hurt a little bit more.

But wait, we’re not done with this one yet.

It turns out the caller lived several hundred miles away. Someone told her The Pongo Fund would pay her bill, she just needed to call us. We explained it’s not quite like that. And so it goes...

We asked where she went for care for the last two vet visits, after her cat’s last two fights.

She quickly said that he’d had more than two other fights this year, and that he normally won them. She seemed proud as she said that. But the other two fights when he needed vet care were the fights he lost. And she said she couldn’t go back to those vets again because the bills were paid for by other groups and they would not help her anymore.

We asked, why would those groups not help her anymore?

She said because she kept forgetting to get her cat neutered.

Read that again:
She kept forgetting to get her cat neutered.

She knew that getting him neutered would keep him out of so many fights, and she knew that keeping him indoors would keep him safe. But she said her cat liked to “get it on” with the female cats and she didn’t want to deprive him of that pleasure.

There was more to that call but for now we’ll leave it there.

Because it was just one more call to The Pongo Fund.

Here’s another:

A woman had six puppies and she called for food, vaccinations, deworming, toys, beds and really nice small crates. It was a long list, but she spoke without pause.

A long list for sure. But did you notice what she didn’t ask for?

She was one state away but said she would come to The Pongo Fund to have everything done. She knew they would need to spend the night, and she wanted to make sure we would give them a motel voucher and pay for their dinner.

What?

We had several questions, but the first one we asked was why did she need toys, beds and, as she called it, really nice crates.

She said she could sell her puppies for more money if she included toys, beds and really nice crates. She said it made her look more responsible and that brought more money.

If you’re still reading along, it was spay and neuter that she didn’t ask for.

Yep. That was another call.

Two more, out of a few hundred.

Don’t worry. There were good calls too.

So many good calls.

But the point of this FB post isn’t to judge. Because we never know what those calls are going to be. Just some of them are harder to understand than others.

Like the woman asking for beds and really nice crates for free so she could sell her puppies for more money. For her, that was just a normal call to make. Oh my goodness...

Here’s my point, or at least, here’s the point I’m trying to make.

It’s been 34 days since my last FB post. That’s a long time. And it’s my fault because I told you I wouldn’t have any more of these long gaps between posts. You have been more than patient with me, and yet I did it again. And I apologize. Yet I know those words aren’t enough.

It’s not as if I lost the ability to write. There were so many times I would sit down to write but the words went another direction.

Even now, with my fingers on the keyboard, I’m still thinking about the woman who called The Pongo Fund while sitting in the parking lot waiting for her appointment to go inside and surrender her dog. He was 18. She said she had no hope left. Not a single ounce of it.
Yet she made one more call.

I’ll tell you more about that one another time. But yes, The Pongo Fund helped. Because that’s what we try to do.

In terms of these past five weeks without a FB post, thank you to those of you who have been in touch to make sure everything is ok.

It is.

At least, as ok as it can be, when you work in a world filled with phone calls that bring moments of life that are not always easy to understand.

But still we find Blessings.

Lovey is doing great. Tougaloo is doing great. Henry and Walter are doing great. Flower just turned 18. Simba with the four murmur that turned out to be just a two is still rocking and rolling. Finley is still the goofiest. Cooper still farts too much but he has really good stool. Turns out Binx really is a lap cat. Robert is now teaching his brother how to run with just three legs. Jack who said he would die of a broken heart if he had to rehome his 15 year old cat Luna, didn’t die after all, since we helped him find a way to keep Luna. Belle is still Belle, totally hogging the bed. Peanut will soon be 19, that’s 5 years longer than anyone thought. Gracie continues to be the best foster failure. Billy Bob with the broken leg is back to his old shenanigans. Lucy with the amputated tail doesn’t even miss it. All the food deliveries that have come in thanks to your donations. And dozens of kibble packers, giving their time to pack all that kibble for so many hungry dogs and cats. Blessings!

We have so much to be thankful for. And my words above, please know they are not complaints. They are just different kinds of Blessings, that we are lucky enough to be part of.

It's just that, along the way, sometimes my words get lost. And I struggle to share them. This time, for the past 34 days.

I’m sorry for that. I truly am.

And I will do better.

The woman whose cat lost his third fight this year. We connected her to some cat people in her community that she did not know about. Her cat is now neutered. And indoors only.

The woman who asked for pretty much everything so she could sell her puppies for more money. Everything except spay and neuter, that is. Those puppies are safe. She never got the crates or the beds or the toys or any of it. But those puppies did get spayed and neutered and are doing fantastic. And none of them were sold. Momma got spayed too. Because after three litters, she deserved a break.

The woman who called from the parking lot, the one with the 18 year old dog. They’re still together. Turned out things weren’t as hopeless as she thought they were.

I know this is not the kind of post you might have expected after five weeks. You deserved better than this one. But this one, it’s all I’ve got.

Thank you for reading.

I’ll be back with more words again soon.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

The Pongo Fund

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