Jim Gorant: The Lost Dogs: Michael Vick's Dogs and Their Tale of Rescue and Redemption

Catalina decided to go to San Francisco to see some old friends. She’d begun to deal with her grief in bits and pieces, but she knew it would take months, even years to fully confront the pain inside her. The process really began that weekend, though, and before she left for home Catalina found herself at a tattoo parlor. She had one tattoo already, a butterfly she’d gotten after her grandmother died.

At that time that she’d felt that as long as she was alive, as long as she inhabited this body, her grandmother would be with her, literally tattooed onto her. She felt the same way about Jasmine. So she sat in the chair and winced as the artist etched into her skin the image of a bird about to take flight. The bird was looking up and its eyes burrowed into whoever viewed it, just like Jasmine’s used to do. The tattoo was the bird that had sung to her that sad morning. The bird that was Jasmine.

The past turned over and over in Catalina’s mind. She didn’t want to revisit it. She didn’t want to entertain the “could haves” or the “should haves.” Nothing lives forever. Accidents happen. Life happens. Blame and remorse are not factors in the equation. If not now, if not this way, Jasmine would have died some other way.

Catalina often talked about such things with Karen Reese. They were kindred spirits in this sense-they believed in the purpose and connectedness of things and in the power of their instincts to guide them. Shortly after the gag order on the Vick dogs was lifted, Reese met with a journalist who wanted to write about them. She mentioned that she’d received many calls but that this was the only one she’d returned. The journalist thanked her for choosing him, but Reese interjected, “No, no, I didn’t choose you. You were sent to us; you were sent to us for a reason.”

Likewise Catalina and Karen believed that Jasmine had been sent to them for a purpose. They felt as though Jasmine had a mission in this life and having achieved what she set out to do, she had been freed to move on. Jasmine was off to do something else, somewhere else, while the rest of us were left to follow our own paths.

This is Jasmine’s purpose.

This is the story she tells.

CHESAPEAKE 54902: AUDIE (BAD RAP)

Dutch, the little dog who rode in Nicole Rattay’s lap for large chunks of his cross-country journey, was eventually adopted by Linda Chwistek, the BAD RAP volunteer who helped develop the group’s Canine Good Citizen program (which has more than a hundred successful graduates). Chwistek was looking for a dog with the physique and athleticism to compete in agility competitions, timed races in which dogs run through a series of gates. Dutch had originally gone to another foster, but Chwistek saw him and thought he had potential. She took him in, renamed him Audie, and set to the training, but there were a few obstacles to overcome first.

To begin with, Audie-no surprise-had some behavioral issues. He fit right in with Chwistek’s two other pit bulls, but he circled in his crate, nipped clothes to get attention, and constantly jumped up on the table or kitchen counter. An experienced trainer, Chwistek could deal with those things, but Audie’s biggest problem was something she couldn’t handle herself; he needed surgery on both knees in his hind legs. In December of 2008 Audie went under the knife, a procedure financed by BAD RAP with the money from the Vick settlement.

While Audie recovered, Chwistek worked on his basic training and he became a star not only around the house but in the small northern California town where he lives. Every morning Chwistek walks her dogs down along the waterfront, where many commuters are heading for the ferry. Audie, shy at first, has become a favorite part of the scene. With Chwistek handing out treats to people, who then fed them to Audie, he came to know a group of regulars, including Bob the newspaper guy. If Audie’s running late, many of his friends will wait for him, as if the daily “hello” from the little pit bull is a part of their morning routine they can not miss. And when Audie sees Bob, he jumps in his lap. Once a week, Chwistek and her husband, Bill, take Audie out to a restaurant, so he can learn to settle down and relax in new and different situations.

In April 2009, Audie had finally recovered from his surgery enough that he could start his agility training. Chwistek worked with him twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. She also took him to a few competitions so he could see what went on and get used to the atmosphere. The full training program usually takes a little more than a year to complete, and Audie is on track to enter his first competition in the fall of 2010.

CHESAPEAKE 54903: SOX (ANIMAL RESCUE OF TIDEWATER)

During the initial ASPCA evaluations, she was one of the worst of the low-response dogs, to the point where the team openly discussed euthanasia. She could hardly open her eyes and seemed unable to focus even when she did. However, since arriving at the home where she was fostered and then adopted, she’s done incredibly well. Like several of the other Bad Newz dogs, Sox has babesia, a bloodborne parasite that’s common in fighting dogs and can make them very ill. Veterinarians don’t know a lot about babesia because most fighting dogs don’t live long enough for them to study and work with the condition. In retrospect some of the evaluators now believe that on the day they first met Sox she was suffering through a particularly bad spike in her symptoms. In late 2009, she received her certification as a therapy dog.

CHESAPEAKE 54904: CURLY (BEST FRIENDS)

When Curly arrived at Best Friends, he was so addled by kennel stress and pent-up energy that he bounced off the walls. He jumped and ran and paced so much that he couldn’t even live in a crate, it was just too confining for him. He had no idea how to deal with people, and when caregivers entered his run he’d jump up on them and nip at their clothes to get attention. At the same time, he was a bit afraid of other dogs and preferred to go for walks at night, when he couldn’t see them and they couldn’t see him. During those excursions he was notably more confident. As he had time to relax and the staff worked with him on his manners and basic training, he calmed down. Eventually he moved into a crate and came to really love it, finding it a safe zone where he could chill out. He made friends with a few other dogs, and even had one buddy he enjoyed wrestling with, but the other dog was so much bigger that the staff didn’t like the match. After Cherry Garcia was adopted, Curly moved into an office, where he spends his time with Mya, who he continues to grow closer to. Unfortunately, his training didn’t include office manners, and he went through a period where he ate everything he could find, pulling papers off desks, tearing up cardboard boxes. He occasionally goes home with one of the staff members and does well on those sleepovers, which have helped him deal with his lingering fear of new places. There’s even a family that wants to adopt him, but he needs to pass his Canine Good Citizen test before that can happen.

CHESAPEAKE 54905: JONNY JUSTICE (BAD RAP) CHESAPEAKE 54906: SHADOW (BEST FRIENDS)

When Shadow landed at Best Friends, he was so nervous and paced so much that even with four feedings a day (double the norm) he couldn’t keep weight on. He avoided contact with people and often froze up, especially when going through doors or passing other dogs. Over time Shadow relaxed and blossomed into something of a big gangly teenager. Now close to seventy pounds, he’s clumsy and likes to snuggle himself into the smallest crates he can find. These days he shares his living space with another dog, maintains a healthy weight, and loves being petted by his caregivers.