“There are two great days in a person's life -- the day we are born and the day we discover why.” William Barclay
I am what I am today, because of what happened on September 14, 2002. I was an awkward twelve year old with an undeniable love for anything that could be classified as a member of the animal kingdom. Detailed dog drawings adorned the refrigerator door, and it has already been predetermined that my life’s intended career was to be a veterinarian. It was easily recognized that I had a passion for animals, for even at a young age I believed that all animals should be entitled to a loving home in which all dogs could live happily ever after. Little did I know that I’d soon play a role in writing many of their fairy tale endings.
After school I would find myself dedicating countless hours to browsing petfinder.org, a database for animal shelters across the US, in hopes that I could somehow convince my mom to allow me to add a third dog to our already hectic family. One particular day I came across a listing for an animal shelter in Philippi, WV. The site posed that all dogs were only given five days to find a home before being euthanized using a gas chamber. I stared at the computer screen utterly in shock. In front of me were photos of comely dogs and puppies with the word “urgent” written in dark read beneath each one, “due to be euthanized Wednesday.” I recalled the word euthanized from a spelling unit in the fifth grade. These dogs were going to die.
Autumn’s beautiful array of leaves predominated most of the narrow country roads that directed my family’s mini van to the scene that ultimately changed my life. Rural West Virginia was much like I had imagined; home to abundant green fields, pick up trucks with chipped paint, and youth enjoying each others company after a tedious first week of school. Two long hours had passed before the intended destination had been reached. “Barbour County Animal Shelter”, written across a plank of wood, was hammered into the muddy ground. My heart beat louder than the dogs cries that leaked through the building that introduced so many innocent victims to their death. The creaking door felt heavier than the large undertaking that I had just unknowingly entitled myself to upon opening it. Immediately upon entering, eyes full of despair followed my every step. I was under surveillance by the misfit mutts imprisoned in the kennels. I cautiously walked past each kennel, observing its contents, wide eyed and shocked. “It’s gonna be okay”, I found myself whispering to each dog, knowing that I was trying to reassure myself as well. My trembling hand extended through the wire kennel and was greeted by five anxious puppies, wiggling with excitement from the attention, obviously oblivious to the notice on their rustic kennel door which was marked “urgent” in dark print. A middle aged blonde shelter worker approaching me solemnly verified the intended fate for most of the shelters residence. “They are all given a five day grace period,” she paused. I could feel my dry eyes beginning to fill with tears. “Many of them don’t make it out the front door; the gas chamber is out back.” The stale air filled my nostrils as wetness formed upon my face and then onto the concrete floor that also served as a bed to the dogs. Their time was running out, and mine was too. “We have been here long enough, Gussie”, my dad who had fully comprehended the weight upon his daughters shoulders. The site, unforeseen to a twelve year old’s heart, not yet laden to life’s harsh realities, had quickly dissolved the fairy tale endings that I had envisioned for each of the dogs. My nine year old brother’s laser tag birthday party was going to begin in a few hours, and we were two and a half hours away. My heart began to race, for I knew that I would be offering divine intervention to a selected few who were presumed disposable by the masters whom they loved so dearly. Whoever stated that ignorance is bliss, sadly was unaware that true bliss lies within the hearts of those that recognize themselves as being an agent capable of changing the problem at hand. The dogs that I did not take would be killed. I was well aware, and nothing could prevent the blunt truth from hitting me and bringing with it a flood of tears which blended with the soiled concrete below. I walked the aisles of the shelter, with the burden of choosing whose life would be spared. This is God’s work, I thought. Not mine. After the hardest decision of my entire twelve years on earth, the families’ mini van was filled with eight scrawny misfit mutts with unknown heritage. I ran back into the shelter to grab the remaining two puppies who whimpered as they anxiously observed as their fellow cell mates who were loaded into a van that would lead them to a more promising life. A little tri colored hound mix with awkward long ears and a bloated stomach full of parasites sat waiting next to a rottweiler puppy with missing fur throughout his body. My dad interrupted my attempt to withdrawal them from their kennel and informed me that we could not take anymore. I couldn’t comprehend the reasoning as to why I could not take them all. While bawling my eyes out, I walked back into the shelter to say goodbye to all who were left behind. Their tails wagged as they stuck their paws through the kennels which shook the “Urgent” signs that hung above their heads. That was the last time I saw those dogs, and I never did learn their fate. Their faces still haunt me to this day. What I do know, is that on that day I learned how to save a life. My family mini van took off down the back country roads with eight scrawny mutts in stow. Their lives had just been spared, and mine had forever been changed.
This led to the formation of Augies Doggies Rescue. I have since rescued, rehabilitated and re-homed more than one hundred twenty dogs from euthanasia. Every dog that enters into Augies Doggies is completely vaccinated, spayed or neutered, and sent through basic obedience training prior to being put up for adoption. I have a soft spot for the misfits, and strays that are in most dire need. When I walk into a shelter I always inquire about who has been there the longest and is next in line for euthanasia. I installed four kennels in the basement of my family’s home so that I could house multiple dogs at the same time while prepping them for adoption. However, their stay in the kennel always seems to be rather short lived. As I work on their obedience and behavioural problems, many of them weasel their way into spending their Augies Doggies days living alongside my family as if they were our own.
Knowing that I have given a second chance to so many dogs that were destined to die has given my life a value that nothing else can even approach. I get to witness miracles on a daily basis. I have been recognized nationally for my work in animal rescue. My story has been told in multiple books, radio interviews, TV features, and publications throughout the United States. With each furry canine wagging their tail and kissing my face I am reminded of lives simple pleasures. No matter what humans have hurt them or neglected them, they always seem to be forgiving.
From this, I have learned that we are all capable of doing something life altering for others. We become who we are today as a result of the experiences which shape our understanding of the world and the way to which we view ourselves in it. If we are able to recognize the moments which give our lives meaning, we will find that dedicating our lives to a greater cause will not be a learned behavior, but rather a value instilled in each of us that we have the desire to express. The events that took place on September 14, 2002 allowed me to find meaning in all that I do. On that day I learned how to save a life. 125 to be exact. 124, being the lives of shelter dogs, and the last – My own. ~Augusta age 21
Founder of Augies Doggies rescue
