Every dog has a story, and for me and my pals here at the Aiken County Animal Shelter, most are sad. Take me — DayLily. I’m a happy-go-lucky kind of gal, yet my humans dumped me on a county road and drove off — without me. I thought surely they’d made a mistake; they’ll come back. I waited and waited and waited, but they never came.
Finally, I gave up and wandered, lost and confused. Luckily, a good Samaritan found me on the road, and I was so hungry and tired, I was grateful to be found — even if it was by a stranger.
Then there’s Echo. Now, Echo — he had a home and loved his humans. Then one day, his humans dropped him off here at the shelter and just walked away. No ‘atta boys, no goodbyes, no nothing. Echo’s a great little guy — so much fun, house-trained, the works — 8 years old, maybe not so great with other male dogs. But hey! Nobody’s perfect.
My other pal, Ozzy? He also had a home, too, and his humans left him here because he had a few medical problems — which FOTAS and the shelter fixed right up. He’s 2 years old, healthy and he’s a great big snuggle bug. The volunteers love him.
Point being, the how’s and why’s of how all us dogs got here are different, but our stories are all the same: our humans let us down. Big time. But you know what? The humans here, at the shelter? They’re top-notch, the best — especially the volunteers. I never even met a volunteer before I came to this place — and take it from me, you need to get one. They come every morning and walk us, sit with us in the yard and talk to us so sweetly. They bring us treats and throw balls. They take us to morning playgroups.
Who knew humans were capable of such love and world-class belly rubs? Go figure.
But here’s the thing: there aren’t enough of them — volunteers, I mean — although you can never have enough belly-rubs, either. It takes time in the morning to walk all us dogs, so if we’re lucky, we get maybe 15 minutes of me-time. That might not seem like a lot to you, but to us dogs? It’s everything.
