Paws of Perseverance

Shelby's triumph over a puppy mill past plus a thank you, a plea, and a book rec.

Shelby eventually loved the snow. (Photo by Cindy Ojczyk)

When I heard the melodic ring of my phone and saw the Second Chance Animal Rescue number on the screen, I thought I’d be greeted with a cheerful hello and a request to foster. Instead, anger bubbled at the edges of co-founder Lynda’s voice. The owner of a puppy mill had euthanized one thousand dogs in her quest to downsize her breeding business. My eyes shut tight against Lynda’s words, holding back the image of what that meant for all those dogs.

A rescue agency had learned of the cruelty and negotiated with the woman to end the killings. Other agencies and shelters around the state rallied in the January freeze to pitch in with the hauling and housing of the remaining 200 dogs. A volunteer from Second Chance was driving back from the property with 22 for our team.

I worked with my daughters and a few volunteers to stage the wraparound porch of a Victorian home in St. Paul, Minnesota. Food and supplies had been hauled from the pet shed so we could quickly move dogs into the warm cars of foster folks waiting along the snowy street.

The somewhat festive mood from the gathering of people on a joint mission was quickly dampened by the stench of new vomit and old feces from filthy, fearful, uprooted dogs. One by one, the little carriers holding cowering pups were brought to the porch. A gloved hand would carefully remove each straining dog for a quick assessment and the assigning of a name.

Almost all were small females around the age of four who’d spent their entire lives producing litters of puppies for the pet trade market while confined to tiny kennels stacked warehouse style, like factory-farm chickens.

I was steeped in fury when I felt the soft nudge of my daughter’s elbow, stirring me from my thoughts. “Mom, there are only three dogs left in the van. Lynda wants to know who we’d like to take home.”

“You’ve been so helpful. You and your sister choose.”

We secured nine-pound Shelby between the girls. While the kids gagged from the stink rising from the carrier, I formulated a plan for her recovery.

First up was a much-needed bath. One bath quickly turned into three as we fought the buildup of matted feces. Once dry, a doe-eyed poodle mix with a hint of apricot emerged from the tangles.

I later took Shelby outside with resident dogs Margo and Poet where she danced from foot to foot in panic in the snow. Once inside, she tried walking to her kennel. Years of confinement left her unable to navigate a straight line.

We created a home for Shelby in my office using a pet fence so she could move from kennel to training pad to soft bed outside her kennel as she grew comfortable with her surroundings. I would work at my desk. The girls would do homework in the chair by the window. As our familiarity with each other grew, Shelby sought a pat on the head, a scratch under her chin.

Two weeks of forward movement ended the day I drove her to the veterinary clinic. During spay surgery, twelve rotted teeth were removed. She returned sore and trembling. We were back to square one with building trust and healing.

Shelby turned a corner in her recovery a few weeks later. I was leashing big Margo for a walk, when I heard a mournful “wooooo” coming from Shelby’s pen. She was no longer happy to be left behind. I swaddled her like a newborn in a thick fleece blanket, stuffed her into a messenger bag with only nose and eyes peeking through the flap, and slung her over my shoulder. She rode happily in her sling two times a day.

One morning as I tried to settle her into the bag, her legs stiffened like a toddler in a tantrum. “Come on, Shelby,” I muttered in frustration. She made it clear she would not be getting into the bag. From that day forward, she ran to the back door and waited patiently to be put into a winter coat to join us. As one block turned to two miles, strong muscles enabled her to walk a straight line.

Once well fed and groomed, Shelby’s fur grew quickly. (Photo by Cindy Ojczyk)

One morning upon our return, Papillon Poet ran to the toy box in my office, found a small, knotted rope and dropped it at Shelby’s feet. She stepped back, eyeing it like a hiker inspects a stick that looks like a snake. Poet nudged it closer to her with his little black nose, marble eyes gleaming, tailing wagging. He picked it up and shook it, letting out a little, “Grrrrr.” Shelby gently grabbed the rope’s end and tugged. Poet gently tugged back. Startled by the tension, Shelby dropped the rope. Poet dropped his end, waiting until she had the courage to pick up hers. In a matter of minutes, Poet had Shelby engaged in the first game of her new dog life.

A few days later, I received a phone call from my daughter. Barely able to contain her excitement, she shouted, “Mom, Shelby’s playing with the Santa toy, tossing it in the air and growling as it falls. She’s playing by herself!” It was the sign I needed to start searching for her forever home.

Sharon locked souls with Shelby when she came across her pictures on Petfinder.com. She had been searching for the right dog to help her tiny Maltese recover after the death of her husband. I spent a week of afternoons visiting Sharon, her extended family, and Maltese Molly. It was the slow transition I needed to find comfort in letting Shelby go. It also gave Sharon and Molly time to get used to a new dog in their home. One sunny Sunday, I closed the door to Sharon’s house, leaving Shelby behind in the good hands of many adoring people.

(This post was originally printed in the Spring 2025 Ruff Drafts quarterly newsletter of the Dog Writers Association of America. (page 14). Members can submit to the newsletter. Members and non-members can submit to the annual writing competition. Become a member today to share your dog stories more broadly!)

---

NEWS FLASH. Winona County in Minnesota, U.S. just passed a ban on future permits for commercial dog breeding kennels and the mass production of puppies. Puppy mills are horrendous places where companion animals used in large-scale breeding are labeled and treated as production animals by the USDA (United States Department of Agriculture). They are confined to small enclosures with minimal to no veterinary care, no outside oversight of conditions, and no human interaction to help puppies learn how to live in a human world. Thank you to Animal Folks, Speak Up Winona County, and the Winona County Board Commissioners who helped drive this effort.

NOT ONE MORE VET. “NOMV’s mission is to transform the status of mental wellness within the profession so veterinary professionals can survive and thrive through education, resources, and support.” Why NOMV? Veterinary medicine differs from human medicine because it often involves ethical dilemmas unique to animal care, such as euthanasia. Just because one can end a life doesn’t mean one wants to. Imagine the daily trauma a veterinarian faces while managing other people’s grief, heartache, and uncharacteristic behaviors that surface under stress. Got a pet? Be kind to your veterinary team, even when your heart is breaking.

LIGHT READING. I laughed so hard I cried, and the cats woke up to the fuss. Page after page, Patrick McManus did not disappoint with his comedic take his outdoorsman lifestyle, his youthly adventures with his best friend, Retch, and snippets of parenting and marriage. Need a little levity? Check out The Horse in My Garage and Other Stories.

SUBMISSIONS OPEN. I’m recruiting for the next issue of PetStack, my newsletter that celebrates the bonds readers have with their pets. Submit up to 6 photos of your pet and your 1 to 2 paragraphs of story answering the question, “Why do you consider your pet(s) part of the family?” If you are a reader on Substack, you can send me a Direct Message (DM). If you are reading this newsletter via email, reply in the comments.

What Readers are Saying

“Superb. Thanks so much for sharing the wealth of information and stories, a great start to my day!” From reader Mary Leicester about the story, Short-Term Fostering: Big Impact, No Heartache

“Great series, Cindy! From reader Heidi Zawelevsky about the story, The Bonds That Bloom: How Pets Deepen Our Connection to Others.

After an unfortunate tangle with a porcupine, this pup got help during a Leech Lake Legacy wellness clinic.

Make my writerly day. Share my work with your friends!