Animal Rescue Truths

***Written by Ashley Owen Hill, Lucky Dog Rescue Blog***

For animal lovers like me, animal rescue is the most incredible, rewarding job... in the history of ever.

At the same time... it's also the most heartbreaking...

My rescue baby, Noah

The truth is...
You see a lot of things... you never thought you'd see.
You witness a level of cruelty... you didn't think was possible.
You feel a degree of helplessness... you never thought you'd know.

You stare at painful images... soon burned into your memory... that will haunt your thoughts forever.
You try to pick up the pieces... so many pieces... of the damage you didn't do.
You do everything in your power... but even still... you'll never reach them all.

You'll try to stay strong... but you'll mostly feel weak.
You'll build walls to protect your heart... but they'll never keep you safe.
You'll place barriers around your soul... but the pain will always reach you.

And no matter how hard you try to fight it... over time... here's the truth about what happens in animal rescue...

My rescue baby, Chance

The neglect changes you.
The abuse hardens you.
The suffering breaks you.

The ignorance angers you.
The indifference disturbs you.  
The injustice destroys you.

On a daily basis... your faith will be tested.
Your heart will be wounded.
Your soul will be altered.

On a weekly basis... you'll question yourself.
You'll question your strength.
You'll question the world.

My Rudy

On a monthly basis... you'll fall down.
You'll get up.
You'll go on...

On a yearly basis... you'll look back...
You'll see faces... 
You couldn't save them.

You'll learn to mourn.
To grieve.
To sob.

You'll learn to trust a little less.
To do a little more.
To fight a little harder.

My rescue baby, Wonder

You'll learn to try.
To hope.
To pray.

You'll learn to fail.
To succeed.
To accept.

You'll learn when to hold on.
When to give up.
When to let go.

Wonder & I

You'll learn who you are.
What you stand for.
Why that matters.

Then... at times... you'll forget why you matter.
You'll question what you're doing.
You'll wonder if it's worth it.

But... here's the good news...

When you forget...
When you question...
When you wonder...

All you have to do...
Is take a look around...
And you'll see them.

Chance today

You'll see their faces.
You'll see their smiles.
You'll feel their love.

In their eyes, you'll see their journeys...
You'll remember their beginnings...
You'll know how far they've come...

You'll remember when they didn't know you...
When they didn't trust you...
When they'd given up.

You'll remember how you healed them...
How you loved them...
How they loved you, too.

And as you look back...
You'll want to move forward...
For them... and because of them.

Rudy & I

In your darkest hours, you'll look around...
To find the differences made... the hope given... and the lives saved...
Because you existed.

In those moments, when you look into their eyes... every doubt will be erased.
Every question will be answered.
Every worry will subside.

Because in that instant... in each of your hearts...
You both share the very same thought:
"Every bit of pain was worth it... for this moment here with you."

Noah today

And honestly... no matter what else happens...
Those moments hold all the strength you need...
To keep going.

Rescue is pain.
Rescue is joy.
Rescue is worth it... because they are worth it.

And that's the honest truth.

***Written by Ashley Owen Hill, Lucky Dog Rescue Blog***

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BullShit Legislation

*Even if you don't have a Pit Bull, this post applies to you, and here's why...

It's preeetty safe to say that I have a ridiculously-strong love for Pit Bulls. If you haven't quite figured that out about me yet... well, it's okay. Maybe smarts just aren't your thing ;)

In fact, I've written more posts about "the Pit Bull" than any other dog or animal rescue topic.
I've shared the reasons why I love them.
I've examined the reasons why they're hated.
I've discussed why they deserve to live.
I've explained why they're forced to die.

I've shared the truth about Pit Bulls. I've presented the facts. I've disputed the stereotypes. I've challenged the bullshit.

I've shared from my own Pit Bull experiences. Not from what I've read about. Not from what I've seen on TV. Not from what I've been told.

I've been open and honest... candid and realistic.  I've been a lover. I've been a fighter. I've been a friggin-force to be reckoned with.

In turn, I've planted seeds. I've witnessed change. I've made an impact. Slowly but surely, I've opened some minds, changed some perceptions, and righted some wrongs.

In those moments, no matter how small the change... or how tiny the impact... I've been proud of me. Proud of what I was able to do for these dogs. Proud of the hope I was able to bring them. Proud of the lives that may be saved, because I stood up for them, I fought for them, and then... someone heard me, believed me, and did something about it.

However... it doesn't always go that way when I write about Pit Bulls. The response isn't always positive. Readers aren't always open. My words aren't always welcomed, or valued, or even heard. 

Instead, I'm often challenged, ridiculed, and bullied by "the other side" ... the Pit-Bull-hater side. This is the side that boasts sheer ignorance, lacking credibility and compassion, and rallying for injustice. It's the side that works against everything I fight for... the side that hopes to ensure the death of every last living, breathing Pit Bull.

People from this "other side" often write to me... just to provide me with a long list of reasons why each of my Pit Bulls deserves to die. And sadly, many people agree with them.

Keep in mind... these are my children they're talking about. 

Further, these people are extremely arrogant and combative... arguing to be "right" about a subject that they honestly know little-to-nothing about. They'll deny all logic. They'll skew the statistics. They'll swear-by "first-hand accounts" ... random testimonials they've heard from a-friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend's cousin, who supposedly was there when it happened... or maybe just saw it on the news.

Honestly, it doesn't matter what they know or don't know. It doesn't matter what you say or don't say. It doesn't matter what this-or-that dog did or didn't do.

Because no matter what, they'll stand firm in their misinformation, with an intense, unwavering, and undeserved hatred for these dogs. Dogs that they've never even met... but wish to see killed.

Sure... these people sound pretty damn ignorant, ridiculous, and evil, don't they? So then... why would I even bother to acknowledge them with this post? Surely no rational person would ever take them seriously, or even consider complying with their cruel, unfounded, kill-those-dogs death wishes, right?

Oh man. I wish.

Maybe you're wondering exactly who is on this "other side" anyway, and why they even matter??

Well... I'll tell you. They are your friends, your neighbors, your landlords, your insurance companies, and your lawmakers. That's who's on the other side.

Does this group of people deserve my time or energy? Well... no.
But Pit Bulls do.

And sadly, it's nearly impossible to fight for these dogs, and work toward the justice they so desperately need and deserve, without taking-on those people from that "other side." Or should I say... taking-down that other side.

Here's why:

For every person who distrusts the Pit Bull breed(s)... a Pit Bull dies.
For every neighbor who complains about their presence, a Pit Bull dies.
For every landlord who forbids their residence, a Pit Bull dies.
For every insurance company who denies their coverage, a Pit Bull dies.
For every lawmaker who bans their very-existence... thousands upon thousands of Pit Bulls die.

The "other side" is responsible for the deaths of millions of Pit Bulls each year. Abuse, neglect, and unimaginable torture are to blame for the deaths of thousands more.

And so... the innocent die. The guilty thrive. Justice takes the fall. Ignorance kills them all.

Yet... few people care to acknowledge this issue. Even fewer fight to change it. And even fewer actually do something about it, by saving at least one... before it's too late. By adopting just one, so another has a chance. By loving just one, so they don't have to die without it.

Maybe you aren't a massive Pit-Bull-advocate-freak like me, but surely you have a good heart, and a solid understanding of the difference between right and wrong. Surely you can see that millions of innocent dogs don't deserve to die for no reason. Surely you can understand that your silence allows it to continue.

Maybe you don't have a Pit Bull. Maybe your friends don't either, and maybe you've never even met one. Even still, this issue should matter to you, and here's why:

Consider your dog... whatever his or her breed may be. Consider how much you love your baby, and how much your baby loves you. Consider the innocence of this special, loyal creature in your life, who wants nothing more than to please you... who lives and breathes just for you. Consider just how much you treasure his or her devotion, and just how deserving your baby is of life.

Now... consider if someone else --who has never even met your dog-- tried to threaten your dog's life... because in their opinion, your baby doesn't deserve to live. Consider that this person's opinion was formed... based solely on the actions of another dog of a similar breed.

Consider that the other dog had been severely starved, neglected, and beaten all of his life --and yet-- the dog was punished for those crimes, and was forced to pay the price for what was done to him.

Then, consider that YOUR dog must also pay the price... he'll lose his life. Consider that your dog has been sentenced to death --along with every other dog who bears his resemblance-- based on nothing more than the actions of another dog, who kinda-sorta looked like him. (I'm not kidding. This really happens.)

Consider the feelings you would have... the outrage, the fear, the pain. Consider how you would stand up and scream: "No!!! Please! You can't do this! It's wrong! Somebody please stop them! Help us!" Consider that no one hears you, no one agrees with you, and no one even cares. Consider what it would do to your heart, and your faith in humanity, if this were your reality.

Consider the pain in your baby's eyes, and the fear in his heart, as he is ripped away from the only family he knows and loves. Consider the confusion, the heartbreak, and the terror he will feel... at the moment he is killed.

Now... picture your baby, laying lifeless in a landfill, beneath thousands upon thousands of other babies, who look just like him... and died just like him. 

That's what BSL looks like.

Seriously... ask yourself: what would you do... if this issue affected YOUR dog, in the very-real way that it threatens each of mine? Wouldn't you be angry? Wouldn't you be upset? Wouldn't you fight for your baby's right to live?

Then, to take it one step further, imagine how you would feel if your friends, neighbors, and co-workers sat back and did nothing to help you? What if you were the only one fighting? What if no one else even cared??

I want you to really allow yourself to feel those feelings... to imagine that level of anger and sadness... to acknowledge the utter helplessness of injustice. Does it feel right to you? Is it okay with you? Can you even believe it's allowed to happen??

Honestly, it's insane that this is allowed to happen, but it's definitely allowed... and it's definitely happening. It defies all logic. It's completely ridiculous. But mostly, it's tragic.

Here's the basic premise of Breed-Specific Legislation (BSL): When a dog of a certain breed harms or bites a human, let's just go ahead and ban every dog of that breed from existence... just in case.

It just doesn't make any sense...

Regardless of whether-or-not you love, hate, or feel completely indifferent to the Pit Bull breeds... surely you feel a special bond with your own dog. Surely you realize that your baby is distinctly unique in personality, behavior, and spirit. Surely you see the innocence, love, and desire that shine through your baby's eyes. Surely you look at him or her... and see a creature who is so incredibly deserving of life.

Well, that's how I see my Pit Bulls, too. Even if you don't believe in their love and innocence... it's there. It's in their eyes. It's in their smiles. It's in their hearts. It's in their souls. My dogs deserve to live, too. They just do...

In reading this... maybe you appreciate the love I have for these dogs, and maybe you feel sympathy for their pain. Maybe you don't want them to die, and maybe you wish that things could be different for them. Even still... maybe you're thinking that there's just no real reason for you to join the fight for them.

Because maybe you figure... "At least my dog is safe."

And maybe you're right...

But... maybe you're wrong...

Here's the honest truth: all it takes is one bite, from one dog, of one breed, for people to propose a legislative ban against that breed (Breed-Specific Legislation, BSL).

Across the country, 75 different breeds --and mixes of those breeds-- are currently on the list of banned or restricted dogs. It's NOT just Pit Bulls. In some areas, Labrador Retrievers, Golden Retrievers, and German Shepherds are deemed "dangerous," and are therefore banned. If you think small dogs are excluded, well, they aren't. Even breeds like Pugs and French Bulldogs are on the list.

And believe it or not... this isn't the useless work of some random Joe Blow, who simply thought it would be cute to list all of the breeds he doesn't like that much. 

Nope. This is legislation, people. It's the law. And each year, more and more breeds (and mixes of those breeds) are being added to this list... in more and more areas across the nation. It's complete BULLSHIT.

And we're all just letting it happen...

By the time your dog's breed joins the list... it may be too late. You've got to care now. You've got to speak now. You've got to act now. Write letters. Make phone calls. Rally others to do the same. Just do something.

BSL is real, it's happening, and it's personal. It's life or death.

And it won't end... until we end it. Please join us in the fight for their lives. Not because I asked you to, but because it's the right thing to do.
*If you'd like to help Pit Bulls, please click below:

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Is It Worth It?

This is a follow-up to my previous post.Click below to read: Why Dogs?: http://luckydogrescueblog.blogspot.com/2012/02/why-dogs.html

I received a lot of amazing feedback regarding my recent post: Why Dogs? One of those responses was a simple text message from a friend... one that really got me thinking.
The text read:

At one time, everyone knew what their life purpose was meant to be... but we were taught to forget it, in the name of money and security. You held onto yours. Great post.

Those words reminded me of something I wrote and shared on my blog last year:

"When you're a kid, anything is possible. You think big, you dream bigger, and you know--without a doubt-- that you can do anything. Over time, the world beats us down. The big thoughts are exchanged for conformity. The bigger dreams are traded for stability. The 'can-dos' are replaced with 'can't-dos.' We call that 'growing up.' But really... we didn't grow up at all. We gave up." ~ me

That text message, coupled with my own words, really made me think about the importance of dreams and purpose... and why so many people let go of these things. I couldn't help but question the lessons we're taught... about wealth, security, and success...and the lives we go on to lead as a result.

Mostly, I thought about the regrets, felt by so many, because of those teachings. And I just kept asking: Why??? 

Why the hell do we allow this to happen??
Why does our society value money and status over dreams and purpose?
And why do we continue to defend this behavior... and re-teach these lessons... when they lead to so much regret for so many people?

I've always been a pretty big fan of the word: "Why?" But when it comes to questions like these... I'm rarely satisfied with the responses I receive.

Here are some examples:
"Because that's what you're supposed to do..."
"Because that's how it has to be..."
"Because that's how we've always done it..."
"Because they said I should..."
"Because that's how life works..."

Wait... that's why?? 

Maybe it's the complete lack of logic in these responses, or the total non-explanation of those answers, or the seeming complacency with it all. Maybe that's what bothers me so much...

Maybe it's the surrender-without-a-fight mentality... the it-is-what-it-is indifference... or the because-I-said-so attitude.

Maybe it's the lack of conviction... the absence of vision... or the denial of alternatives.

Or maybe it's the tiny whisper of defeat I often hear, behind the voice that provides those answers. A subtle mix of anger and sadness that says: "I don't know why I gave up... but I did it anyway..."

It's heartbreaking to see so many people going through life with such deep regrets about their decisions to give-up on their dreams... often feeling as if they missed their entire reason for being here. Especially because... it just doesn't have to be that way.

Now... before I go on, let me say this: I have a pretty firm grasp on reality. I'm absolutely aware of just how difficult life can be. I also realize that "growing up" is an obvious, unavoidable part of life, which places many constraints on our childhood views and aspirations. I'd never deny that we're each faced with a ridiculous number of responsibilities to uphold, bills to be paid, and struggles to overcome. I get it... and I'm not neglecting any of that.

Therefore, this post isn't my crazy attempt to paint a ridiculously-skewed, ass-backwards, rainbow-skittles-backdrop, behind the otherwise-grim actuality of our lives. I'm not trying to invent some kind of bippity-boppity, humpty-dumpty, whistle-while-you-work, fake-ass-fairy-tale-of-a-world... in which we can all survive on simple wishes and gumdrops.

Instead, I'm simply sharing my view of an issue that impacts each of us in some way... affecting our lives, our dreams, and ultimately, our purpose for existence.

However, in doing so, I'm NOT advising anyone to suddenly abandon all responsibility and rationale. I'm not encouraging random, reckless decisions to quit your job, sell your house, or become a wandering gypsy. Okay, moving along...

Here's the deal: I receive a ton of amazing messages and letters from all of you (In fact, I receive so many, that I'm waaay behind on getting back to everyone. But I promise I'm working on it. Okay, back to the purpose of this whole thing...).

In many of those messages, I read words like these:
"I just wish I could do what you're doing..."
"I just wish I'd started at your age..."
"If only I'd followed my heart like you did..."
"If only I could go back and change it..."

These messages are extremely touching --and beyond heartbreaking-- all at once. I'm always affected by the deep emotions within those words: desire, hope, and passion... mixed with sadness, regret, and despair.

As I read those messages, I can't help but think: It just doesn't have to be this way. It shouldn't be this way.

In truth, the very things that these people so desperately wish to do or change... can absolutely be done or changed... but they just don't realize it yet. Or maybe, they just haven't tried.

Instead... at this point in their lives, they almost feel trapped by their existence... burdened by responsibility and circumstance... stuck, anchored, and paralyzed by their own decisions. 

I think we've all felt that way at one time or another. We're human... and being human kinda sucks-ass sometimes. But, really, that whole "being-a-person" thing is actually our greatest strength. It means that we hold the power. That means YOU hold the power.

If you aren't happy with some aspect of your life, I'd just like to encourage you to change that. Especially if the unhappiness stems from feelings of an unfulfilled purpose... which can lead to some of the biggest regrets ever felt in this lifetime.

Of course... we've all heard the phrase: "If you don't like something, just change it." But obviously, this push-for-action is much easier said than done... and seems slightly-mission-impossible. So, I'm certainly not saying, "Just change it. Fast. And now."

In reality, it's just not that easy. Attempting to redirect your life is no kindergarten-cake-walk. But... it can be done. It is possible. Maybe it can't happen today, or tomorrow, or even this year. And maybe it even seems silly to you, at this point in your life, to start changing a bunch of crap... just to follow some distant dream or passion.

My life ain't always pretty

But here's my opinion: if it matters to you, then it matters. And if it matters enough... then it's worth it.

If it seems silly, or pointless, or impossible to you, then just consider the author of this blog post (That would be me). I'm only able to write these words with such conviction, because I've lived it.

If you think that I was simply handed some kind of enchanted existence, full of fairies and pixie dust... well, you're dead wrong. I've never even met a fairy in real life, and trust me-- pixies are stingy as hell with that damn dust.

Instead, my purpose became my path, because I had a well-defined dream, I believed in that dream, and I busted my ass to make it come true. Was it easy? Hell no. Was it worth it? F*** yes.

I worked at jobs that I hated... just to save the money I needed... to do what I love. It wasn't an easy, fun, or fast process. But it certainly wasn't impossible.

Today, I'm able to make a difference with my life, doing what I love. That being said... I'm very honest about my reality...  about the struggles I've faced --and continue to face-- as a result of that decision.

My particular dream didn't lead me to a life of endless stability, security, or ease. In fact, I actually gave all of that up... to follow my dream... to fulfill my purpose.

Sure... it sounds a little crazy... since that's pretty much the complete-and-total opposite of what most people do... or are told to do. Obviously, it's a much more popular choice to simply discard dreams for security, right? 

That works for some people, and there's nothing wrong with it. But, if you're like me... you need both. You've got to make a living... just like every other person... but you refuse to deny who you are in the process.

Call me crazy... but I truly believe that every person who needs both... can have both. More than that, you deserve to have both. You're worth it.

However, it's far from easy. It requires a ton of hard work, determination, and desire. You have to want it. You have to believe that it's possible... and worth it. And, at some point, you have to go for it. 

It's a journey... a process that's every bit as unique as you are. I can't tell you what will work for you. I can't advise you on how to start. I can only speak from my experience, and share what worked for me...

First, I had to reconsider what it means to "make a living." That is... what it means to me. And for me, how I made that living mattered more than how much I made.

Next, I had to reevaluate everything else.  I had to accept the things I couldn't change, and focus on what I could. I had to honor my responsibilities, while reaching for the possibilities. I had to listen to the concerns in my mind... without ignoring the dreams in my heart.

I had to redefine what it means to be wealthy, successful, and stable. I had to rearrange my priorities, to reflect those new definitions. I had to separate "needs" from "wants" ... and sacrifice "wants" for "needs." I had to adjust my perception of those sacrifices ... to view them as contributions.

Then, I had to develop a plan-of-action. In doing so, I had to balance optimism, pessimism, and realism. I had to recognize the difference between the three. I had to acknowledge the risk of failure... while preparing for success.

Most of all, I had to believe... in a way that made me seem bat-shit crazy to everyone around me. I had to believe in my dreams. I had to believe in my purpose. I had to believe in myself.

The hardest part? At some point, I actually had to do it. I had to take that leap of faith. I had to go for it. I had to try.

I won't lie to you... when I finally jumped, it was scary as hell. I didn't know the outcome. I questioned myself often. I wondered if I'd even make it.

Back then, I lived on pure faith. Even today, that's often how I survive. Is it easy? Hell no. Is it worth it? F*** yes.

At this point, maybe I don't know everything, but here's what I do know: I grew up, but I never gave up. I stayed true to myself. I believed in my purpose. I held onto my dreams. And, in turn, I became what I was always meant to be.

Actually, for me... nothing has ever been more worth it. 

At the end of my life... when I look back on my time here... I'll be able to smile and say:
I lived, and it mattered.

What could possibly be more worth it than that?

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Why Dogs?

Why dogs?

If I had a dollar for every time someone's asked me: "Hey Ash... why dogs? Why did you decide to rescue dogs?" ... well... I'd be rich as hell.

Actually, no... I take that back. I'd still be broke, because I'd just spend all those extra dollars to rescue that many more dogs.

Regardless, it's a good question. A valid question. A question worth answering. Why dogs?

The answer to that question seems so obvious to me. It's pretty simple... but also complex. Basically-- I'm trying to answer the question: "Why are you... you?" 

Why dogs?

For me, it all started sometime around... well... birth. All my life, I've had this insane love for animals... especially dogs. But more than that... for as long as I can remember, I've been absolutely fascinated by them.

This fascination runs much deeper than a simple: "Aww, look at the doggy!" I'm drawn to dogs... and dogs to me... in this weird, almost magnetic-type way. In a way that sparked my curiousity as a child... that grabbed my attention, and my heart... and never let go. 

That fascination has undoubtedly shaped much of the person I've become...& much of my life. Because... even as a child, I knew that I'd been given a very specific purpose in life. From my very first encounter with the creature we know as "dog," I just knew.

How did I know? Well, it's hard to explain in words, but here's my best attempt:
As a kid, I was able to connect with dogs in this unexplainable way... to understand them, to comfort them, to feel their pain. It's not that I felt sorry for them... I actually felt their pain... with this insane level of emotion and empathy that --quite honestly-- should've been totally foreign to a super-happy, extremely-outgoing, very-social child like me.

Even still, I felt it... and I couldn't turn away from it, nor did I want to. Instead, I became driven by this intense, unwavering desire to heal their pain... no matter how much pain I felt as a result.

As a little girl, I realized that saving them... somehow saved me too. Each time I helped one... each time I saved one... I could feel these words so strongly in my heart: This is why I'm here.

Looking back on my life, I've sometimes wondered if my willingness to take-on the pain of others, beginning at such a young age, may have changed me --damaged me-- in some way. Maybe so... but really, those "changes" were always meant to happen for me. It all goes back to purpose, and I truly believe that every person on this Earth has a purpose. This one's mine.

Okay... so maybe this sounds a little silly to you: "Oh really? Your purpose is dogs??" And maybe you're still asking the question... Why dogs?

I guess now would be a good time to get a little more specific about this whole "dog purpose" of mine. Sure, I love all dogs, and of course, I feel connected to each and every one of them. However, my deepest connection... is with a very specific group of canines. I call them... the forgotten dogs.

My Rudy

These are the dogs who have suffered through each and every day of their existence. The dogs who only know fear, neglect, and torment... pain, heartbreak, and despair. The dogs who spend years crying out for help... with no response. The dogs who wait, every minute of their lives... for the love that never arrives... the relief that never shows... the hope that never comes.

The dogs who would live and die... without any purpose at all... if no one ever made it their purpose to save them.

And that's why I'm here.

It's my belief that every single person on this Earth has a distinct, unique, and significant purpose in this life. Otherwise, why are you here? Some people are here to save people... and others --like me-- are here for the animals. Which is good... because we all have needs, and we all need help. People have needs. Dogs do too. 

Quick note: many "non-animal" people feel very offended when someone compares dogs to humans. However, I'm actually not trying to compare the 2 at all. Obviously, dogs are not people. Dogs are dogs. They are amazing, unique, companion creatures, with extraordinary capacities for love, compassion, loyalty, and forgiveness. These traits are inherently canine... and cannot be fully grasped --or replicated-- by humans. The beauty of a dog... is that they are a dog. We humans could only wish to compare to that. 

Rudy & I

Further, unlike humans, dogs don't have the ability to meet their own needs. They have no thumbs, no cash, and no voice. Therefore, a dog's existence is entirely-dependent upon our willingness to meet those needs for them. Their health, their happiness, and their futures hinge upon the hope that someone, somewhere will help them. Maybe someone will care enough to do something. But even if you don't care... guess what? They still love you anyway. That's some powerful stuff right there. That's the kind of love... that deserves saving.

So... your question is: Why dogs?

In short, here's my answer: Why not dogs?

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"When you ask me why I care so much, I wonder why you do not. When you ask me how I do so much, I wonder how you do not. When you ask me what I'm trying to prove, I wonder what you are not. You ask because you wonder. I wonder because you ask." ~me

*Thinking about my Rudy today. This one's for you, buddy.

CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO READ MY FOLLOW-UP TO THIS POST: Is It Worth It?http://luckydogrescueblog.blogspot.com/2012/03/is-it-worth-it.html

The Best Year of My Life

One year ago today, on January 12, 2011, I published my first blog post: My Story. That day, Lucky Dog Rescue Blog was born.

When I wrote that first post last year, I honestly didn't know if anyone would read it. As I poured my heart into every word, I wondered if anyone would care. And when I clicked "Publish" for that very first time, I thought to myself: "Good luck changing the world with this crap. Never gonna happen."

Well... today, I'm here to say... I was wrong. Because, in my own small way, I did change the world with this blog. And it all started... one year ago today...

It's funny... because I almost didn't start this blog to begin with. Sure, I've always been a writer, and I've always been a rescuer. And over the years, a lot of people have asked me to start a blog. But honestly, I always thought, "Hmm... not so much."

So... I never did.

Then, last December, a friend strongly encouraged me to do it, and she offered to build it for me. I distinctly remember saying, "I really appreciate it... but... well... it's just... I'm not a 'blogger.'"

It's not like I thought a "blogger" was a bad thing; that certainly wasn't the case. I guess I just figured I wasn't one of them.

Sure... the word-itself kinda freaked me out a little bit: blogger. It sounded a little weird, or silly, or ridiculous: blogger. I think it reminded me of the word: booger... and that's just not really something I wanna be associated with.

But my friend insisted that I at least give it a try, and honestly... I didn't have much to lose. If no one reads it, oh well. And if even one person does... maybe it will inspire them in some way. Maybe.

So... I said: "Okay. I'll do it."

In coming up with a name for my blog, the choice was pretty obvious: Lucky Dog Rescue Blog. Then, I sat down to write my first post.

I asked myself: "Who am I? And --more importantly-- why am I that person?" The answers to those questions would soon become my very first blog post: My Story.

Before it was even published, I nearly deleted the whole thing. But instead, I asked a friend to read it first.

This particular friend is not a "rescue friend." She's just a normal-person, non-animal-freak, friend of mine. So, I was a little worried that she wouldn't relate to it... or maybe... she just flat-out wouldn't like it. But I knew she'd be honest with me, so that's why I asked her to read it.

Then, she called me in tears, and said, "Ash, it's perfect."
I asked, "Are you sure? I just don't think anyone will want to read this thing."

She said, "Just wait... your life is about to change."

I remember laughing, and saying: "Yeah right. No one is going to read this crap, and my life will be exactly the same one year from today... as it is right now..."

Famous last words, right?

When I look back on the last year of my life, I'm truly blown-away. Has this blog changed my life? Damn right it has. Has this blog changed a lot of people's lives? Amazingly... it really freaking has.

As I've said many times, I honestly didn't think that anyone at all would read this thing. And even today, as tens of thousands of readers visit my blog each month, I'm still shocked that anyone at all even comes here. 

But... in just one year... more than 350,000 people have visited my dinky-ole blog, with well-over 550,000 page views. It's completely freaking unbelievable.

Even still, I guess I didn't realize the impact of my blog... until people started to contact me. And not just any people... important people. Magazine people. Website people. Pet company people. People who love my work, love my writing, and for some crazy reason, love... me. And insanely enough, they wanted use their work... to feature my work.
Do what now???

In just one year, Lucky Dog Rescue Blog has been featured in 5 national magazines: American Dog, Bella Dog, Life+Dog, Dog Fancy, and Cesar's Way (Cesar Millan, The Dog Whisperer). I've also been contacted by major websites, pet companies, and big-time news stations about my work. By documentary producers, respected animal activists, and some pretty big-name peeps.

All of those people... are pretty-freaking-important people... who shouldn't even know who-the-hell I am. And yet... they are contacting me??

Blog reader, who is now my dear friend

But more than any of that... it's the connection I've made with each of you that means the most to me. I've received thousands upon thousands of amazing emails, messages, and letters from all of you... with words that have moved me to tears. Words that have healed my heart. Words that have changed my life.

Thousands of words... like these:
"I just wanted you to know how much you've inspired me..."
"I just wanted you to know how much you've encouraged me..."
"I just wanted you to know how you've changed my life..."

"I followed my dreams, because of you..."
"I don't feel alone, because of you..."
"I saved a life, because of you..."
"I adopted, because of you..."
"I volunteer/foster/transport/donate, because of you..."
"I started a rescue... because of you..."

"You told me it was possible, and I believed you..."
"You told me I could do it, and so, I did..."
"You told me not to quit, so I didn't..."

"I thought it couldn't change, but then, you changed it..."
"It seemed like it was hopeless, but you gave hope..."
"I swore it was impossible, you made it possible..."

"I've never had a hero... but now I do. And I wanted you to know: my hero is you."

Wow. Just... wow.

When I started this blog one year ago, my greatest hope was that I'd inspire at least one person to get involved. Just one person. But I never could've imagined... that my words would inspire thousands. Hundreds of thousands.

It's just more than I ever dreamed possible. Much more.

If you don't believe that anything is possible, just look at me. If you don't believe that one person can make a difference, here's your proof. I'm your proof that anything is possible. I'm your proof that one person can do it. I'm your proof that the world can change.

And for me... here's why that matters: Because, in proving that to you... I was able to prove it... to me.

Honestly, it changed my life.

My name is Ashley. I'm just a girl... in Mississippi... with a dream of changing the world. 
And look at what I did... in just one year.


*From the bottom of my heart, thank you for making my dreams come true.

CLICK TO DONATE TO LUCKY DOG RESCUE!

Grandparents Update

My Gran, with my dad (left) & uncle (middle)

As many of you know, my grandparents were in a near-fatal car accident on Christmas day.

My grandfather was left with 9 broken ribs, a broken sternum, and a broken neck... amongst other injuries. My grandmother broke all of her ribs, as well as her sternum and her back. But the biggest concern for my Gran was the lack of function in her lungs and her heart. She was in critical condition... and it was truly life-threatening.

Here in Meridian, I felt terrified, alone, and helpless. With each text and phone call, my heart would stop... as I waited for an update from my family.

My brother, a 3rd-year medical student, was very honest with me about the reality of the situation. I asked him to tell me everything, from a medical standpoint, and from a brother standpoint. After he rambled-off some doctor jargon, he stopped, and said: "This is bad, Ashley. Really bad."

I responded, "I've worked it out for me to leave town. I'll be there tomorrow."

He said, "I just pray she makes it through the night."

My brother & I

I started sobbing... and tossing items into my suitcase. I sobbed even more, as I packed a black dress and black shoes... just in case.

That night, the night before I left town, my Gran's heart stopped beating while my family was in the room. Thankfully, the hospital was able to bring her back. But... that wasn't the last time they'd have to bring my Gran back to life...

The next morning, I headed toward north Alabama. I don't even remember my drive there, but I certainly remember arriving at the hospital. I pulled into the parking garage, took a deep breath... and headed for ICU.

ICU has strict hours for visitors, with only four, 20-minute visiting times per day. When I walked into the ICU waiting room, I was greeted with a big hug from my brother. Across the room, I saw my dad, who smiled when his eyes met mine. It was the first time he'd smiled since Christmas Eve.   

After I hugged Dad and the rest of my family, it was time to see my grandmother.

As I walked into my grandmother's hospital room, tears quickly filled my eyes. In the midst of all the tubes, monitors, and IVs... I saw her. My Gran. I stood next to the bed, picked up her hand, and said, "I'm here now, Gran."

She opened her eyes, looked up at me... and a gentle smile came across her face. Then, she mustered the words: "Who's watching your dogs, Ashley-Cakes?"

I said, "Don't worry, Gran. I made sure they're all taken care of... so I could be here with you."

Gran whispered, "I knew you would, darlin'."

I fought back tears, as I said, "I love you, Gran."

Gran gently squeezed my hand, and said, "I love you too, darlin'."

After my visit, I walked out of the room, wiped my tears, and said a silent prayer: "Please don't let that be our last 'I love you.'"

That night, I was visiting with my grandfather, when he asked me to gather the family together. When I got everyone into the room, he began to talk about the reality of Gran's situation... and the likelihood that she may not pull through this. He wanted us to know that he would try to stay strong... for us.

As he fought back tears... I fought back tears. But it turns out... my Granddad is much better at fighting tears than I am. Mine began streaming down my face. That's when I felt my dad's arm around my shoulders, and I turned to bury my face into his shirt.

We left the hospital and drove to my grandparents house to stay the night. I walked into their home, and looked around at all the smiling, happy, healthy pictures of my family. I just couldn't believe that my super-health-conscious, high-energy grandparents were suddenly so sick.

As I scanned the photos on the walls, I saw the photo of my grandparents on their visit with Mayor Rudy Giuliani. I saw them at the Presidential Inauguration. I saw them with presidents of major universities, famous football coaches, and famous players.

I smiled and thought, "Damn, my grandparents are cool."

Then, I quietly headed toward my favorite place in my grandparents' home: my dad's old bedroom. Dad's childhood room is like a time capsule... filled with... my dad. I guess that's why I love it so much.

On every visit to my grandparents' house, I find myself digging through my dad's old desk drawers. I'm slightly fascinated by the contents... old photos, letters, and report cards. No matter how many times I look through that desk, I find something new and super-freaking-cool each time.

His desk contains tons of photos of my dad throughout his life. In some of his childhood pictures, I could swear I'm looking at a photo of myself. In his college days, I could swear I'm looking at my brother.

My parents

But my favorite photos... are the ones that are ripped in half... with just my dad remaining. The other half of those pictures used to be an ex-girlfriend... before my mom got her hands on it. Back in college, Mom ripped that other chick out of every pic she could find. Those half-Dad pictures make me laugh out loud every single time I see them.

In some of the other drawers, I'll find a stack of sappy, old love letters from my mom to my dad... and I'm always touched by those. I guess it's just cool to "meet" my parents before I was even alive. My favorite line in those letters is: "I can't wait until we get married and have blonde-haired, blue-eyed children one day. One girl, one boy."  That one makes me smile... because my mom was wishing for me... years before I was born.

Next, I'll dig through some old report cards, which also makes me laugh, because they look like every report card my brother and I ever got: "Extremely smart, but unable to focus. Easily distracted. Talks too much."

Later, after I finished the raid on my dad's room, I walked back upstairs... so I could complete my next grandparents'-house-activity: looking through old photo albums. I just love looking through their cool old photos, so that's a must-do on every visit to their home. But also... that night, I welcomed any good distraction.

My dad started laughing, as I proceeded to make my usual mess, by pulling out every old photo album in the house, excited to look through them.

As I flipped through those pictures, I made my usual smart-ass remarks about the clothes: "Dad, seriously... what was up with men back in the day? Why in the world would any respectable man wear Daisy Dukes??"

For the rest of the night, my dad, my brother, and I sat and looked through photo albums together. We smiled. We laughed. We hugged. In the back of each of our minds, we were wondering if these old photos would soon be all we'd have left of my Gran. But even as we thought it... we never let ourselves believe it.

But then... sometime over the next few days, my Gran slowly started to improve. Her heart got a little better. Her lungs got a little stronger. And her spirit finally returned.

When her spirit returned... the fighter inside my grandmother returned. And she fought... to live... for us.

And that's just what she did. She lived.

I'm so thankful to tell y'all that my grandmother is fighting her way through this, and so is my grandfather. As I say those words, I can hear my grandfather's voice, reciting the special phrase I've been told all my life:

"You're an Owen. There's nothing an Owen can't do." ~ Tom Owen

*If you'd like to donate to Lucky Dog Rescue in my grandparents' honor, please click the link: http://luckydogrescueblog.blogspot.com/p/donate.html