When I was growing up, I wanted nothing more than a dog I could train with. I taught my childhood Chihuahua a variety of cute tricks, and made homemade agility “courses” for my Labrador. But Hamilton showed an aptitude for picking up new tricks that none of my dogs growing up had. While some tricks aren’t suited to his abilities or his large size (no back stalls for this duo), it’s been super fun to see how far we can take it. It’s been surprisingly accessible, and a great way to earn AKC titles in spite of his quirks.

What training did Ham have before you started working on tricks?

Hamilton and I started training from the moment I brought him home. At first, it was just sit, down, stay, shake, but soon we started to class. Puppy pre-school (a socialization class), puppy obedience, and puppy agility were his first forays into training, and we continued to build up in those different areas. Today, Hamilton is in a Canine Good Citizen level obedience class (though we’re not sure if we’ll get that title) and level 2 agility which involves some simple courses. We’ve also done a bit of scent work together, which is a lot of fun for his nose! ​

NOTES:

To follow Hamilton’s adventures, see training videos, and read about his journey with reactivity, head over to Ham’s Instagram, which is updated daily at http://www.instagram.com/hamiltontherescue.

Dogs of any breed or mix at any age and size can earn trick dog titles. Classes are available in many areas, but trick training is also a great DIY activity. Check local training centers to find an authorized evaluator. The titling entities are American Kennel Club and Do More with Your Dog.

The MUZZLE UP Project (https://muzzleupproject.com/muzzle-training), though no longer being updated, houses excellent resources on training your dog to a muzzle. ​

The opinions expressed in this guest blog are those of the author(s) and are not necessarily endorsed by Coonhound and Foxhound Companions.

By Melissa O'Brien

Two years ago we adopted a blind coonhound whose name was Priscilla when we met her at All Breed Rescue. Little was known about her. She came to Vermont from a shelter in the south; she had had puppies just before making that transition, though none of them survived. She was about 5 or 6 years old, and she was missing one eye. The other eye was clouded over by what we though might be a cataract condition, but we later learned was scar tissue. 

We renamed her Daisy Mason, paying homage to the magnificent woman who was the housekeeper in the home where I lived and worked in Kentucky for many happy teenage summers. Daisy Mason, the woman, was small of stature but large of personality. She worked her way, daily, through the southern mansion inhabited by the wonderful Jones family, with grace and always, always, humming a tune. Miss Daisy Mason, like her canine namesake, was loyal, loving and peaceful. A true southern grande dame survivor.

Though the story of her past remains a mystery to us, Daisy has taught us that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that she may have been neglected or abused. She probably was, and yet she shows no signs whatsoever of having gone through those hard times. She lives each day as if she has no memory -- a deep and powerful blessing. Last year, after living with us for just eight months, Daisy made it through the difficult testing process to become a member of the Therapy Dogs of Vermont family, proving that though one may have been "disabled," displaced or mistreated, one has the capacity to turn those struggles into something beautiful. 

Daisy, once abused, is one of the most powerful healers I know.

Lessons From a Blind Coonhound

• Let go of the past. Right now. It is done, it is over and if you drag it with you into today, you will miss the opportunity to receive the loving gestures that have arrived. You will miss noticing that the world is on your side.
• Howl when the spirit moves you. It doesn't have to be pretty; that's not the point.
• Sit and stay are way overrated.
• Be of service. Even the most impoverished among us have something to offer. Do not spend your life in victimhood. Get yourself to the nearest nursing home or hospital or school and be with people who need you.
• Trust. The world will let you down, beat you down, turn you around and spit you out. Even when it feels like a bad idea, keep trusting. Eventually someone who believes in you is going to come along and you will to want to be open and ready to receive that pass.
• Be still. Be patient with the humans around you, especially the ones who think they know everything.
• Though someone may have hurt you, be loving, be gentle. Teach everyone, by virtue of your own behavior, how to be better.
• It is absolutely, positively NOT a waste of time to lay down upon a warm slate tile on a sunny day.
• Even if your best friend looks and acts nothing like you, love him anyway. He may be an overweight, food-thieving brown Lab, but he loves being with you and that's enough.
• Though you may not be able to see what's up ahead, go there anyway. For certain you are going to bonk into some obstacles, but keep going. Go with curiosity and glee. Walking tethered to someone else's lead might be safer, but running ahead on your own is far more satisfying. And fun. Discover for yourself the wonders of the world.

Reprinted with permission from the Melissa O'Brien's blog. Thank you Melissa!

“I thank God daily for Luke, because he is Michael's best friend, and they have a bond that no one can describe.” The words are Nicole’s about her husband Michael. And Luke is Michael’s 4-year-old Bluetick Coonhound service dog.

Nicole’s husband, Michael, suffers from Autism Spectrum Disorder. (ASD is a neurological disorder resulting in developmental disability that affects communication, social understanding, behavior, activities and interests). After severely injuring his back while working at his uncle’s shop, Michael was left barely able to function. Even worse were his feelings of futility, depression and despair.

And then …coincidence or providence?

Living next door to the couple was a breeder with a puppy Michael desperately wanted. But when he approached the breeder, he was told that the puppy wasn’t for sale, and a dejected Michael returned home empty handed. The following day, the breeder called; he’d changed his mind. Never had Nicole seen her husband as happy as the day that small Bluetick Coonhound entered his life. And the loving bond between Michael and Luke was instantly and immutably forged.

If not for Luke …

One of Michael’s many ongoing health problems includes seizures. Seizures, which Luke instinctively and instantly picked up on. After some further instruction from Nicole, the pup learned to recognize when they were coming on and what to do. He would remain with Michael the entire time, never once leaving his side, until the seizure was over.

The same holds true whenever Michael becomes depressed or is bedridden because of his back. Luke stays close to him, comforting and calming him with his presence, and providing the stricken Michael with the solace and reassurance he needs. And yet, this very special relationship doesn’t only work one way. Whenever Luke is the one in need of calming, Michael is there for HIM. According to Nicole, “They know just what the other thinks and wants.”

Once, during a walk through the woods near their house, Michael fell. Luke reacted immediately. He slid beneath Michael, braced himself firmly, and was able to hold Michael's weight while he managed to get back up. Now, all anyone has to say is, "Luke, help me up," and Luke will help that person up. With Michael, however, Luke knows even before he’s asked.
 
The pair is inseparable, and with Nicole’s assistance, the three of them have become regular visitors at a nearby nursing home, where they spend time with the seniors on the rehabilitation floor. Their mission: “to cheer them up and make their day,” says Nicole. Michael loves showing off Luke, Luke loves the attention, and the seniors love Luke. It is a single, joyous and rewarding love fest all round.

“Michael tells me that he loves Luke more than me,” Nicole admits, “that they have a tighter bond. Does this bother me? Does it make me mad? The answer is ‘no.’ And I will continue to say, ‘no.’ Why? Because I am walking with Michael, step by step, and side by side, just in a different way. I definitely love my Michael, and wouldn't change my baby for anything in this world.”

Article written by Nomi Berger. Nomi is the bestselling author of seven novels and one work of non-fiction. Nomi devotes all of her time volunteering her writing skills to animal rescue organizations both in Canada and the USA.

It started with a single stray hound and a pair of loving hearts.

The stray, ultimately dubbed Major Hound, was a Treeing Walker Coonhound found loitering on a regular basis outside the Wal-Mart in Farmerville, Louisiana, where Sandy Lunte lived. As a longtime devoted dog rescuer and re-homer working alone, she saw him as one more dog in urgent need of rescuing. She spent the next three weeks trying to entice him close enough to safely trap him, until finally, with the help of local vet Dr. Damon Odem, she succeeded. And so it was that this abused, abandoned, and beautiful dog snared Sandy’s heart, aroused her curiosity about coonhounds in general and ignited her passion for the breed itself.

Coming to Sandy’s own rescue, when she needed a second loving heart and a second pair of helping hands, was her close friend, Elisabeth Grant-Gibson. Sliding into her new rescue role with eagerness and ease, Elisabeth quickly acquired three foster dogs. Late one Sunday evening, as the pair was driving to Elisabeth’s house with yet another hound for her to foster, Elisabeth casually remarked, “We’ve got all hounds on deck now,” to which Sandy promptly replied, “That’s the name.”

With that, All Hounds on Deck was born and officially launched in June 2013. As to the playful logo with its prominent peace sign? It was the brainchild of graphic artist Amy Sliger. “Peace Love & Hounds is our motto,” says Sandy. “We’re peace-loving hippies. We also LOVE Coonhounds because they’re dear, dear dogs. Silly, funny, and oh-so-loving. They’re also terribly misunderstood and constantly mistreated around here. Since so many people don’t realize what wonderful pets and loyal family members coonhounds make, we’ve made educating the public about them a vital part of our mission.”

Although not exclusive to hounds, the rescue focuses on medium- and larger-sized dogs, who are often the most difficult to place. Having modeled themselves after several rescues they admire, what sets All Hounds apart from some of the other local groups is that they fully vet their dogs – deemed unadoptable by many -- while keeping their adoption fees low. “We’re also not limited as to where we acquire our dogs,” explains Sandy. “We take them from shelters, from dumpsters, and from the streets.”

Because All Hounds is such a new rescue group, their earliest funding came out of Sandy’s and Elisabeth’s own pockets, and they were the group’s sole foster homes, together with a local boarding facility. But as they quickly began rescuing more dogs, they started to work on establishing a network of temporary foster homes. And although they had begun by using volunteers strictly on an event by event basis, over time that base began to grow.

Their decision to pull a dog – whom they named Shemp Hound -- from a local shelter was a game changer for them. Although they had nowhere to place him and no funds for his medical costs, they posted his story on Facebook and appealed to the public to call in donations directly to their vet. To their relief and delight, their first fundraising effort was an unqualified success.

Building upon that success, All Hounds continued to use not only Facebook, but also some of the burgeoning websites devoted solely to raising money for rescues. Two of their own most effective fundraisers were leaving collection cans at area businesses and selling All Hounds on Deck t-shirts with their whimsical logo. Then, as more people became familiar with them, contributions from other donors, both public and private, began trickling in. And as a non-profit rescue, they continue to rely solely on the generosity of others to sustain them.

One of the unique features of All Hounds on Deck is that most of the dogs they save from certain death are re-homed out of state. And for these operations to succeed, all HANDS must definitely be on deck. And on call. Sandy and Elisabeth have personally driven dogs to the northeast four times. The majority, however, are delivered to their forever homes by volunteer transport, a remarkable and highly coordinated network arranged through an independent rescue coordinator. Like a relay race, a volunteer will drive a pre-arranged number of miles until another volunteer takes over, and so on and so on. Most transports involve between 20 and 30 different drivers and take between two and three days to complete.

A major support to Sandy and Elisabeth in the area of rescues and placements has been Jerry Dunham, founder of Tejas Coonhound Rescue, and an integral part of Coonhound Companions. Case in point: a beautiful, tri-color English coonhound they called Cindy Hound. Found in December on a highway in Iberia Parish, Louisiana, she was taken to the shelter, where she languished for weeks with no interest shown in her whatsoever. Despite being a sweet and obviously loving dog, she was scheduled for euthanasia by the shelter due to overcrowding.

In desperation, Jerry, who had first helped Sandy with Major Hound’s rescue, contacted her and asked for her help. All Hounds promptly posted Cindy on Facebook, and to everyone’s profound relief, a potential adopter was found and ultimately approved. After Jerry had arranged for Cindy to be flown to Monroe by Pilots N Paws, Elisabeth drove Cindy across country to New Jersey, where her adoptive family was eagerly waiting to welcome her to her forever home.

As part of their mission to educate the public about coonhounds, dog health and safety, and responsible pet ownership in general, Sandy and Elisabeth are frequent guests on several local radio and television programs. They also speak with students and work individually with children whenever they appear at public meet and greets. And they are currently laying the groundwork to visit schools with Jack, who is Sandy’s onetime dumpster dog turned certified therapy dog.  

As All Hounds on Deck continues to grow as a rescue and in reputation, both Sandy and Elisabeth continue to lead by example. Sandy and her husband, Tony Cortellini, share their home with four rescues including, Major Hound, the Treeing Walker Coonhound who started it all, and Elisabeth not only fosters dogs, but her cat, Gin, lets them “cat-test” the dogs they rescue, while her backyard fence allows them to test for fence jumpers.

Article written by Nomi Berger. Nomi is the best-selling author of seven novels, one work of non-fiction, two volumes of poetry and hundreds of articles. She lives in Toronto, Ontario, Canada with her adopted morkie, Shadow, and devotes all of her time volunteering her writing skills to animal rescue organizations throughout Canada and the USA.

"Hello. My name is George ... now. I used to have another name; at least I think I did. That was a long time ago & I don't remember.

About a year ago, the only person I'd ever known dumped me in a strange place. It was dark & I was scared. I didn't know what would happen to me - I only knew that everything I had known was gone.

I hid behind a dog house. Once the light came, a stranger approached me & took me inside. There were a lot of other dogs there & I was even more scared than I was outside. The stranger was nice. She talked to me, fed me, & gave me a blanket. I waited there for someone I knew to pick me up & take me home. Little did I know that wouldn't happen, at least not the way I thought it would.

That lady, Monica Collins, was so kind & gentle. She told me I was safe & told me she'd help me. She said to be brave & she took my picture. I am not a brave dog but I stood there & she snapped some shots.  Of course I didn't know it, but those pictures - they saved my life."

On November 10th, 2012 a young Treeing Walker Coonhound was abandoned at the Mount Pleasant Animal Shelter in an outside pen. The photos taken by a dedicated volunteer were posted on the Coonhound Rescue Network page on Facebook and were shared no less than two dozen times by well-meaning hound lovers from across the country. In the post, Monica wrote:

Please help me find a place for a sweet hound they just got here at the shelter today. A young male, doesn't look quite a year old by his teeth, dumped in the outside pen. He has beautiful markings & long ears. Not sure what you would call him ... other than hound. He is very scared, but he does let you handle & pet him. I loved him & made sure he got a nice clean blanket to lay on. He wasn't sure what to do & sat & looked at it. He must have been outside all his little life.

My husband and I had often discussed bringing another hound into our lives and something about these pictures touched our hearts. The photos were heartbreaking – maybe it was the small cement cell he was in, the roach of fear in his back, or the string of stress-induced drool that hung from his lip. We shook on it – we'd try to give this dog a real home. After posting my initial interest and inquiring as to the logistics of getting the dog from northeast Texas to southeast Connecticut, a familiar voice chimed in, that of Jerry Dunham, a long-time, well-respected coonhound rescuer.

We already had two coonhounds, Clementine, a 6 year old Black and Tan Coonhound, and Sonny, a raucous 2 year old Redbone Coonhound. Naturally, we struggled with the ramifications of bringing a teenage, intact male, unknown dog into the midst of our home. Jerry contacted me via email and arranged, with Monica's help, more photographs and  the results of a temperament test. The boy was tested for food, dog, and cat aggression. He passed with flying colors.

Knowing there was a lot that could go wrong, but feeling as though it was the right thing to do, I contacted Jerry and  Monica giving the go ahead for the adoption to proceed. Needing a name for the necessary paperwork, my husband picked George. This would seem like the end of a sad story, but really it was just the beginning.

Over the course of the next week or so, flurries of emails were exchanged, advice was sought, phone calls transpired, and arrangements were made. As all the necessary details of a long distance adoption were being set in place the shelter filled up and our boy was placed on the PTS list. His time was up there and he needed to be removed from there immediately.

Dog Runner Pet Transport, the operation run by Elaine and  Dave Stutz, couldn't pick George up for another eight days. Through a network of very kind and selfless volunteers a local boarding facility in Mount Pleasant, Texas,was found that agreed to house George for one week. Unfortunately Dog Runner couldn't pick him up there due to logistics. George needed to be transported, for an overnight stay, near Plano, Texas. Bright and early on the morning of November 26th, he was picked up and  on his way to us.

That journey of over 1500 miles took four long days. In the meantime, we set things up at our home as best we could. We'd placed a crate in the living room, lined with a soft bed. An extra dog bowl and a new collar were purchased. I'd made a veterinary appointment for George on the following Monday and we had enlisted the help of a trusted friend of ours to help with dog introductions upon his arrival.

On Saturday, December 1st we got the call we'd been waiting anxiously for for over two weeks. The transport was not only on its way and joy of joys, it was running early! I was too nervous so I sat in the front seat, wringing my hands, as my husband drove. We met the transport in nearby Mystic, Connecticut on a cold, drizzling, snow spitting afternoon. Our first sight of George was of him stretching his legs and bawling at a passing horse drawn carriage. He looked young but bigger than I'd thought from the photographs I'd seen. He seemed happy. He seemed worthy. But best of all, he seemed like ours.

Once parked, I nearly leaped out of the car. We introduced ourselves to the Stutz's and thanked them. George was brought over to us and in an instant, he could tell something would be different. He was hesitant and uncertain. Of course part of me expected this but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed he didn't jump into our arms. I tried to bribe him with treats but slowly he backed away from me. I was nearly heartbroken. It was understandable though, this boy had been through so much and I'm sure he was very unsure as to whether this situation would last. In just a couple weeks he'd been dumped in the shelter, from boarding to boarding, living nearly a week in a crate on a trailer, and finally to us.

Dave and Elaine made encouraging small talk and held him as we slipped on his brand new collar. We said our good byes as Dave tenderly lifted him into the back of my car. I rode home in the back seat with George, hoping to make him feel a little more comfortable. He sat politely and quietly. All the while he looked out the window, wondering I'm sure, why he was here, who were these new people, what would become of him, and why it was so damn cold.

It's a very long way from Texas to Connecticut in more ways than one. Only part of George's journey was over, the next part was yet to begin. He was, for all intents and  purposes "home" even though he didn't know it yet.

"So that's the story of how I got my very own family. I can't believe how much has changed. Now I have a mom & a dad & a brother & a sister. I have a soft bed, my own blanket, & regular meals. I get petting & cuddles every single day. I get to go for long hikes in the park too. I'm learning a lot & trying to be a good boy. I love it here & my family loves me. Every day I think how lucky I am – it's been like winning the dog lottery!

It could have been different. I don't like to think about that. What if there had been no Monica? What if those people hadn't shared my pictures? What if my mom hadn't seen them? What if everyone had turned their backs & hadn't helped? Where would I be?"

The very sad fact is that without the generous help and support of so many kind-hearted people, George may have ended up like so many other hounds that get dumped in shelters – if they're lucky. His story has a happy ending but many, many other hounds won't get that. 

Coonhounds, by the dozen, are euthanized every single day because there is no one to help them, to want them, or to see their value as wonderful family members.

In rescuing this boy, experiencing the joy and love he has brought to our lives, I know we've only made a small difference to the situation. To George though, that difference is everything.

— By Ellen Jones

Her given name was Elisabeth Spain, but in her hometown of Owensboro, Kentucky, she was known simply as Riley. A typical teenager in some ways, certainly. Unique in others, absolutely.

After enduring months of crippling pain, she was finally diagnosed with hypermobility (a condition where joints pop in and out of their sockets) and fibromyalgia (the result of having contracted the H1N1 virus) early in her freshman year of high school. Everyone predicted a future of impaired motor function and limited possibilities for her. But not Riley.

By the time she was a sophomore, she proved just how wrong they were. And just how much of a typical 16-year-old she could be. She was surrounded by caring friends, had a wonderful boyfriend, and drove her own car. Atypically, she worked after school at the Town Square Animal Hospital and Pet Resort. Why? Because animals were her passion.

One night in late November of 2011, as she was following some of her friends on Facebook, she did what she usually did. She clicked onto the page of the local kill shelter, glancing at the photos of the dogs, many with comments such as "cute" and "I’d love to take this one home" underneath them. Scrolling further, she was suddenly brought up short. Staring out at her with a long, sad face and long, droopy ears was an extremely thin Treeing Walker coonhound with no comments under his photo at all. His name was Jethro. 

And something deep inside Riley responded. She promptly burst into tears because, as she herself explained, “he looked so sad, and no one felt his sadness.” When she saw that he was scheduled to be euthanized in two days, her heart sank. She quickly printed out his picture and took the paper Jethro to bed with her. 

By the following afternoon, she had made up her mind. She told her mother that she wanted to save Jethro’s life. Her mother was stunned. They already owned two poodles. Why would her young daughter who loved two beautiful poodles suddenly want to save the life of an old, ugly and dying coonhound? But Riley was adamant. She could neither be swayed nor moved. This was what she wanted to -- needed to -- do. In the end, her mother grudgingly relented.

But her permission came with three rules. One. If they did get Jethro out in time, Riley would have take him to daycare at the animal hospital with her every day. Two. At home, he would have to stay in a crate. Three -- and the hardest for Riley to accept – she had one month to rehome him or he would be returned to the shelter. To the agitated teen, all this meant was a stay of execution, a temporary reprieve for this hapless dog. And she was determined to do better than that. But for the moment, there was no time to waste. And so she quickly agreed to her mother’s terms. 

They drove to the shelter, arriving exactly ten minutes before closing time. And those ten minutes literally saved Jethro’s life. They were taken back to the kennels and neither of them was prepared for what they saw. The coonhound was scarcely more than skin and bones and too weak to stand or walk. A tearful Riley ran to him, and the ailing dog had just enough strength to lift his head and lick her face. Riley immediately took this as a sign. She was doing the right thing. And Jethro knew it too. As her mother signed all the necessary papers, they were told that prior to his leaving the shelter, Jethro would have to be neutered. They were also warned that because of his age and poor health, it was doubtful that he would even survive the surgery. 

After worrying about him the entire next day, Riley and her mother drove up to the vet’s office just in time to see a dog catcher dragging Jethro away. Riley jumped out of the car, picked up the scrawny, half-sedated dog and held him like a baby while the shelter was contacted. When Jethro was finally released into her safekeeping, an elated Riley exclaimed, “As I clung to my beautiful, alive, and slightly smelly, first foster dog, I was the happiest girl ever!” 

At home, both toy poodles seemed to understand what was happening, and after a few curious sniffs at Jethro and a few half-hearted barks at Riley, the pair headed to her bedroom. Next to her own bed was a crate filled with warm, cozy blankets and a wonderful new dog bed. Just for Jethro.

That night, Riley kept a watchful eye over the sleeping dog she had rescued. “I believe and always will,” she later said, “that Jethro knew he was finally safe from harm. The look in his eyes that first night hasn’t changed in 2 years. It’s a look of pure happiness and relief.” 

But ever conscious of her mother’s third rule, she kept her word and started Googling various coonhound and senior dog rescue groups. “Hi,” she wrote again and again. “My name is Elisabeth Spain. I’m 16 and I’ve saved a coonhound from being put down in Daviess County, KY. His name is Jethro. He’s 10 years old and what a wonderful dog he is. He loves to play ball and chase. He’s microchipped, neutered and up-to-date on his shots. I would love to keep him, but my mother has given me a month to either rehome him or find a rescue for him. CAN YOU PLEASE HELP ME? Transportation is not a problem. Thank you for any help. Love, Elisabeth and Jethro.”

For every hopeful email she sent out, every answer she received was discouragingly the same. None of the organizations could take Jethro. They were simply too full. Undeterred, she cast her net wider until finally, her efforts were rewarded. Coonhound Companions replied that although they themselves couldn't take him, they would help her rehome Jethro within the month.

And they did. They located a suitable adopter in Spring, Texas and arranged for Jethro’s transportation there. With mixed emotions, Riley relinquished the dog she had only just gotten to know, convincing herself that it was best for Jethro and that she had kept her promise to her mother. But, in reality, it didn’t make letting him go any easier. Now all that remained of her own coonhound companion was his crate, his dog bed and her printed picture of him.

Within 24 hours of arriving at his new home, however, Jethro escaped through the fence and disappeared. Thanks to Facebook, people in the town were alerted to the situation, prompting them to put up posters everywhere and search the shelters. He was found 4 days later. It seems he had wandered into an open garage only blocks from his adoptive home and was taken in by the owner. At first the man had considered keeping him, but then changed his mind. He brought Jethro to the local shelter, where he was immediately recognized as the missing dog in the posters. Unfortunately, though, when Jethro was returned to his adoptive home, some family issues arose that jeopardized his safety, and Coonhound Companions quickly stepped in.

Riley, meanwhile, had spent the entire week without Jethro in utter misery. She realized how attached she had become to him and how desperately she missed him. When she heard that he couldn’t stay in his new home, she couldn’t have been happier or more relieved. What were the chances, she wondered, what were the chances. Acknowledging the depth of their daughter’s feelings for the dog she had rescued, her parents agreed that Jethro could return to Owensboro. He would stay with Riley’s father, who lived close enough for Riley to visit him. For Riley, it wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a solution. Her beloved Jethro would be coming home!

But his homecoming would prove anything but simple. It was like a page torn from an old movie script – part comedy of errors, part Ripley’s Believe It or Not.  It began with Coonhound Companions arranging for Jethro to be surrendered to the Houston County Hearts Hound Rescue. While he was there, he underwent some much-needed dental surgery, paid by the Coonhound Companions "Long Ears Alive!" fund. Through Pilots ‘N Paws, he was flown to Little Rock, AK, where he was to be driven to Jonesboro for the night. Another pilot was to fly to Jonesboro from his home in Missouri to take Jethro to Kentucky Dam, where Riley and her father had agreed to meet them.

When the driver couldn’t make the trip to Little Rock, the original pilots flew Jethro on a circuitous route through several counties, picking up various bloodhound rescues along the way, until they finally reached Jonesboro. The next day, the plane in Missouri that had been reserved to fly to Jonesboro and pick up Jethro wasn't at the airstrip. The previous renter hadn’t returned it and no one knew where it was. 

When the plane eventually did show up, mechanical problems grounded it for days. Ultimately, the stranded pilot, sympathetic to the plight of the waiting dog and the anxious teenager, got in his car, and drove to Jonesboro himself. He picked up Jethro and drove all the way to Kentucky Dam, where the exhausted dog was reunited with an equally exhausted, but elated Riley. 

(While all of this had been happening to Jethro, young Riley had had a cancerous lesion 
removed from behind one ear.) 

Everything was forgotten though, when the “forever mommy” as Riley called herself wrapped her arms around her skinny, shaking hound and vowed to never let him out of her sight again. Rather than going home with her father, she returned to her mother’s house. And the slow but steady rehabilitation and revitilization of Jethro began. He gradually started putting on weight, pleasantly filling out his gaunt, long-legged frame.  He became Riley’s constant and adoring companion, one who lived to love and be loved. 

Riley soon discovered that the loyal and lovable Jethro also loved going for car rides and playing fetch. She learned how affectionate he was with other people and how good he was with other dogs. She found he loved to snuggle, to get his tummy rubbed and to watch TV with her. And each time she looked at him, she saw his gentle soul reflected in his eyes.
These were the best of times for the young girl and her dog, but punctuating them would also be the worst of times. 

Because, as the months passed, with each step forward, Jethro took another step back. He bounced physically from one health crisis to another (including the drainage of infected fatty tumors, irritable bowel disease and pancreatitis) and his doting, forever mom bounced emotionally with him. Every time the aging dog was hospitalized, the vet recommended that he be euthanized. But Riley wouldn’t agree and Jethro wouldn’t succumb. He rallied each time, just in time to get sick again. But neither girl nor dog gave up or gave in. United by bonds stronger even than love, they fought together and beat the odds together.

Tending to Jethro and seeing him improve under her care gave Riley an idea. Why couldn’t she look after other dogs the same way? At the animal hospital, she watched sick and injured animals coming and going all the time. And she knew that only one kind of animal interested her: the ill and unwanted. Like her beloved Jethro. With her mother’s permission, she became a foster for a local rescue called Saving Paws Animal Rescue of Kentucky (S.P.A.R.K.Y.). She fostered both puppies and kittens -- some for just a weekend, some for longer, and some for whom she herself found adoptive homes.

Then in the spring of 2012, she adopted (a decision she laughingly attributed to Jethro) a black coonhound/lab mix puppy. Her name was Lexi. She was part of a litter dropped on the side of the road and brought, sick and dehydrated, to S.P.A.R.K.Y. Riley and several other volunteers, together with a vet, nursed them all back to health. While the rest of the litter was adopted, Lexi remained the Riley and her family. And of course, Jethro, who couldn't have been happier.

“She’s brought out the puppy in this old man,” said Riley. “Since she’s been here, Jethro hasn't been in the hospital once. Its amazing! Lexi is also a blood donor at the animal hospital and Jethro encourages both of us all the way. He’s like our own little mascot.” 

When Riley decided to work at her cousin's veterinary clinic, faithful Jethro accompanied her there. Today, Jethro either cuddles with Riley in her bedroom or camps out in the backyard, depending on his mood. And the bond they share has only grown stronger with time. Riley is still the compassionate teenager who gave her heart to an ailing and aging dog. And Jethro is still the gentle survivor of a thousand scars who holds Riley’s young heart in his large, loving paws.

Article written by Nomi Berger. Nomi is the bestselling author of seven novels and one work of non-fiction. She lives in Toronto, Ontario, Canada with her first pet -- and the love of her life -- her adopted morkie, Shadow. Nomi now devotes all of her time volunteering her writing skills to animal rescue organizations both in Canada and the USA.

By Officer Katie Zaimis

There she was, excitedly leaning against the door of her cage at the animal shelter. With trusting brown eyes, a white-tipped tail, and those floppy, spotted ears, she was the most adorable puppy I had ever seen. I had seen her for the first time a few nights prior in the hallway of the police station, on an early morning after my shift. I had not been able to forget about the 8-week-old abuse victim ever since. The officers who witnessed the incident had apparently seized the pit bull/beagle mix from her owner, and the puppy was going to be kept at the shelter until the court hearing. I didn’t know yet if she would be put up for adoption or returned to her owner, but I knew how much I wanted to keep her.

My husband Alex and I both love dogs, but we live in a small townhome without an accessible backyard. We had previously agreed that we wanted at least one dog but had decided to wait until we moved into a larger home. Now, a sweet little face and wagging tail were quickly convincing me to reconsider. Over the next month, I visited the puppy almost every day. I brought her treats and toys, clipped her nails, and took her for walks. Her name at the time was “Princess,” but she had not been treated as one. I decided that I wanted to name her Seven of Nine after a character from Star Trek: Voyager (the character on the show was also “rescued!”)

Animals are a special kind of victim—they can’t tell anyone that they are hurting, or seek help for themselves. It was a stressful month knowing that Seven might eventually have to go back to her owner. She would not likely get another chance to be saved.

When the court hearing came around, I was relieved to find out that the owner had decided to sign the puppy over to the county. I went to the shelter and filled out the adoption paperwork that same day. Seven was finally ours, and would have a loving home for the rest of her life.

Having had zero experience at raising puppies, I relied heavily on advice from friends and Internet research.  One thing I never expected was the constant biting during the teething process.  I came to realize that a dog’s natural reaction to touch is defensive, and they need to be taught to view humans as non-threatening.  This must have been especially difficult for a pup already injured by a human at such a young age.  Seven used to latch onto hands, arms, shoelaces, pants legs—pretty much anything that she could sink her razor sharp puppy teeth into.  With a lot of time, patience, and the occasional band-aid, we slowly taught Seven bite inhibition.  Ignoring bad behavior and praising good behavior goes a long way when training a pup.  I would yelp like a puppy and let my arm go limp if she bit me, and turn my head away and ignore her if she was pulling at my pant leg or shoelace.  We gave her chew toys, Nylabones, a Kong ball (I like to freeze it with peanut butter inside), and even pieces of ice.  I used to pet her while feeding her treats so that she was too distracted to start chewing on my hands.  It took time, but this type of training proved to be extremely effective and resulted in a much gentler puppy!

House training is another challenge, even more so when it is raining outside.  Seven hates the rain so much that we got her a tiny raincoat for when she needs to go out during inclement weather.  I took her for a walk one day to allow her to do her business, when she suddenly decided she did not want to walk home.  I found myself walking down the side of the road holding a puppy in a raincoat, and an umbrella over both of us.  I could not imagine what passersby must have been thinking!

Anyone who has ever trained a hound knows how willful they can be.  Training is a challenge, but it can be very rewarding if done properly.  Hound breeds are extremely intelligent and can learn new things very quickly.  At five months, Seven already had a decent repertoire of tricks memorized.  She learned how to sit, shake hands, high five, and low crawl.  If I told her to “twist” she would spin around in a circle.  Our latest trick is my favorite—I point my finger at her and say “bang bang!” and she rolls onto her back with her paws in the air. 

At six months old, Seven has started baying and chasing squirrels.  Her beagle side is definitely asserting itself.  Our walks require a bit of patience since she wants to investigate everything along the way.  She seems to enjoy tracking and sniffs the ground with her nose down, tail up.  She began doing this while she was still at the shelter, but her senses seem to have developed more now.  She is a hunting dog at heart, but such a loyal and wonderful companion.

Seven has a ton of energy and we make sure she gets plenty of exercise to match it.  She runs with larger dogs at the park and gets several walks a day.  She seems to operate in short bursts—she will run and play for an hour, but then nap for the rest of the afternoon.  We play fetch games with her squeaky ball and Alex throws Frisbees with her at the dog park.  Once she has had her exercise, Seven loves to be held and prefers to use any nearby human as a pillow.  She even sleeps in our bed at night.

For all the challenges of owning a puppy, the rewards are tenfold.  We look forward to a lifetime of adventures with our sweet Seven of Nine!

Editor's Note: Beagles are "cousins" to coonhounds and foxhounds and we thought our readers would enjoy reading this engaging first-person account and excellent photographs! Our organization does encourage adoption of hound mixes.