It's a dog's
life. But 4 years ago, it was a much different life for me. I was about as down
and out as a puppy could be. Telling my story today might bring back some awful
memories. But from the safe and loving home that I find myself in now, I have
the courage to go down that dark road again. If my story helps just one dog,
or one cat, or even a human, then it will be worth every word.
My name is
Kela. I used to have another name. I am grateful that I cannot remember it.
In 2003, I was living everyday of my life in fear. I never knew where I would
find shelter. I was abused by a bunch of street kids. Food was extremely hard
to come by. My world was spiralling downward. And being a puppy, there was not
a lot of options for me. I was weak, hungry and homeless on the streets of Los
Angeles. But, at the brink of death, I was rescued.
I was taken 120 miles east to at Pet Hospital and Resort in Rancho Mirage, near
Palm Springs. My condition upon arrival was not good. I was almost half the
weight I should have been. My tail had been cut, probably by those kids, although
I only remember that I used to have a tail. You see, at some point during my
abuse, my mind had shut down. Maybe to block out what was, so far, a miserable
existance. Or maybe I had just given up. I weighed 21 pounds, but the average
weight for my size is 35 pounds. The Pet Hospital was considering putting me
to sleep. They felt that I had lost my will to live. But at the final hour,
they saw something in me that changed their mind. They decided to give me another
week to see if I would make progress. And in that week, December 12, 2003 to
be exact, I call it my birthday. That was the day I was rescued, yet again.
This time by the ones I call Mommy
and Daddy.
