The photographs on this page are my exclusive property and, as such, they should not be copied or published anywhere without my permission.   Please also be advised that I support Pasado's Safe Haven and all the work they do, and I do not care to be contacted or enlisted by anyone who would undermine this organization.  Thank you.  Mandy Speers

 
The very  first dog I walked on day one was a white, small-framed, female pit-bull. She had lost much of her fur due to a reaction to fleas, and there were scabs all over her head. Her eyes had black pigment around them, which looked like eye makeup. She had puffy pink areas of flesh that the vet told me were yeast infections. Her tail had no fur and was thick with rash. She was a scraggle-muffin, to say the least. She barked at me and I barked back. She was nervous and I started immediately to try to win her trust. She gave me no eye contact and her tail fell between her legs.  I spoke calmly to her.  I took her out for a walk and she pulled me toward the grass, but her back legs were so weak that she shook while straining to pee. I gave her much praise for being so good and for holding it in all night.  And she bounded about, excited with her accomplishment!

I also began giving her, what would become, regular massages. We would sit together on the grass and, while she leaned on me, I would rub her aching joints and her ribs and her spine. I used a leather glove to wipe her down and this released some of her crusty scabs, and I KNOW it felt good because she didn't like when I stopped!  So I kept doing it.  She began wagging her tail; she licked my face; and we were definitely making eye contact. We were becoming pals.

When I put her back in her crate, I gave her a few biscuits. She LOVED her biscuits and just gobbled them down.  Later that afternoon, Alina and I attempted to give her a much-needed bath, but she was very afraid of the water (I wonder why!).  Poor little thing. We took our time, lathering her with a special, organic herb shampoo specifically for canine skin conditions. We lathered between her paw pads and under her neck and belly. We left the lather on for a couple of minutes and then carefully rinsed it off, using warm, wet towels.  There was no way we could hose her down or rinse her with a bucket of water, as she was terrified.  After drying her off with a bath towel, I walked her around in the sun, so she could dry completely. She looked a million times better.  The redness in her skin had gone down and it appeared that her white fur might actually grow back.  

I wanted to name her "biscuit" but I knew I couldn't bring her home with me and, as hard as it was, I refrained.  She simply became "my girl" and everyone working near me referred to her as "mandy's girl".  She had been labelled a "caution dog", due to her size, her bark and the fact that she was pure pit-bull.  After one day, I removed the CAUTION tape from her crate. She was anything but vicious; and, as the days went by, her skin cleared up and she became a mush-loving lap dog.  I brushed her new fur and put aloe on the sensitive areas. Her stomach settled and she no longer needed  the prescription ID diet.  She reminded me very much of Bonnie, the deaf pitbull I once shared with a former boyfriend. She just needed a little extra attention. She is a wonderful dog and I HOPE she finds a family who appreciates her for all she is, the way I did.

Each animal had a chart listing vital information:  Where was the animal found?  Had it been micro-chipped? Had it been altered?  The general health of the animal was detailed, including medical treatments.  Meal times were documented.  All walks were documented.  Did the animal pee?  Poo?  And at what times of the day?  The ratio of two people for each animal worked well, as one did the walking, while the other cleaned the cage and put out fresh food and water.  Clean blankets or towels were also laid down.  They were needed by many of the animals, to support their frail and boney frames.

In the afternoon, when all the animals were resting quietly in their crates, I lined up eleven empty bowls and began the assembly-line process of opening eleven cans of wet food -- dumping one can into each bowl. Then, one measured scoop of dry food was added to each bowl. Wearing a surgical glove, I mixed the wet and dry food together - kind of like a paté!  As each dog awoke and went out for a walk, his/her crate was freshened, water was changed and the freshly mixed "paté" was placed inside.  As the process was completed for each dog, I filled out his or her chart.  The charts were of utmost importance for the vets to check on each dog's progress.  

At any given time, in my area, there would be between eight and fifteen dogs, but sometimes less. Once the HSUS dogs arrived, those numbers increased.  Preparing dinner and dinner walks lasted for hours. Just when we thought we were finished (for awhile), a request for help would come from another area.  When my wrists ached from being pulled by dogs, I chose to clean crates. A dirty crate needed to be taken outside and scrubbed in a mild bleach solution and then hosed down to get the bleach off as it could irritate paw pads; then the trays would be placed back inside, followed by food and water.  It was an ongoing process.  After dinner, the barn became very quiet as the dogs rested, and we would arrange the box fans so that every crate received a cooling breeze.  

At about that time, dinner arrived for us, the volunteers -- vegan cuban food; vegan cajun; vegan pizza. It didn’t matter, as we were ALL so famished.  I filled bowl after bowl of lentis and rice and salad, and just inhaled it! Purple gatorade was the best beverage.  The intense heat and the strenuous work had me drinking about ten bottles of water, five sodas and six gatorades, in the course of one day!  And I hardly every peed!  My body used the liquid as fuel.  During dinner, we all sat around with glassy eyes. Sometimes conversations began, but most of the time it was quiet as we all rehydrated and ate.  Shoes came off and blisters were tended too. I went to the vet with a foot blister unlike anything I had ever seen.  She drained it, sterilized it and wrapped it in vet wrap. Vet wrap is a wonder invention that should be used on humans more often.

I stretched and cracked my back, and walked to the hose to sterilize my hands once more.  My rental car had air-conditioning, so I walked across the field and sat in the car and called my mum on my cellphone (I checked in with her everyday).  I told her about the HSUS and their plan to drop off 100 dogs, that night, at Pasado's facility. In our down-time, we had readied the arena for this major event.  Rows and rows of crates were assembled and zip-tied, fresh bowls were placed atop each cage.  We built a second vet station and triage line for all the animals coming in -- and of course there were the daily Pasado's rescues arriving as well. We all worked together to get the barn and arena set up for more intakes.

When the new animals began arriving, the resident dogs were needing their last walk of the night.  I focused on the dogs in my area and gave them each an extra three minutes out in the warm Louisiana evening. I ran with them. I sat with them. I kept them out long enough to poo and pee. If you do that at night, their crates are dry the next morning. I did not rush them, and even if it slowed the process, they went right to sleep in their clean crates for the night.  A roomful of sleeping pitbulls, german shephards and rottweilers is a wonderful thing to see.  Before scarfing down a power bar and heading over to the arena, I put a huge sign in front of my dogs that said DO NOT ENTER - NAP TIME.  

My first day was chaotic, and I loved every minute of it.