Humane Society of the Pikes Peak Region

11/29/2025

Beretta weighs 70 lbs. She is not a lap dog. Science says no. Physics says no. But does she care? Also no.

Here at the shelter, we believe in the ancient wisdom of: “If I fits, I sits.” and its more extreme cousin: “If I don’t fits… I still might sits.”

Today, we want to see where your pets like to park themselves, whether it’s your lap, a cardboard box, the top of the fridge, or a chair that’s clearly designed for a toddler. Show us the spots that look absurdly tiny, totally uncomfortable, and yet somehow… perfect. Bonus points for pets who defy physics to squeeze in! 🐾

11/28/2025

While many of us gathered around warm tables yesterday, passing plates piled high with blessings, someone else was savoring his Thanksgiving meal at the shelter.

His name is Woolly Mammoth.

Not long ago, just the beginning of November, Woolly walked through our doors as a dog-shaped whisper, a ghost of who he should have been. He moved carefully, as though his paws had to ask permission from his bones that jutted painfully beneath his skin. Every rib stood out, each one sharp enough to break your heart if you looked too long. Wounds traced his face and paws like old, tired stories that no one had bothered to read. And when a Good Samaritan found him, wandering alone with no clear destination, he was covered in flies.

We don’t know where Woolly Mammoth came from, or for how long he had been trying to hold himself together with nothing but scraps of hope. But when he arrived, it was painfully clear that both his fragile body and his gentle, trembling heart had endured more than any animal should.

The moment Woolly crossed the threshold, our veterinary team moved like a warm, determined breeze, soft where he was scared, confident where he needed direction. He was evaluated and placed immediately on a careful refeeding plan. Woolly scored a two on the Body Composition Scale, just one step above the most extreme level of emaciation. He had a long journey ahead of him.

His wounds were cleaned; gentle hands tended to the places the world had hurt him. He was given structured meals, the kind that come at the same time every day, the kind that whisper, “You are safe. You don’t have to wonder anymore.”

And something extraordinary happened. With each scheduled meal, each soft word from the staff, each careful bandage change, Woolly began to lift his head.

He began, just barely, to hope.

We knew Woolly would need to stay with us for a while to be able to heal, and healing doesn’t only happen in bodies; it also happens in hearts that have been hungry for love. So our behavior team crafted a personalized enrichment plan just for him. Puzzle toys to sharpen his mind, gentle play sessions to rebuild trust, quiet company to refill the lonely places inside him.

Little by little, his tail began to sway, small movements at first, like delicate shoots pushing through winter soil, unsure if the sun was really coming. But healing isn’t smooth. It isn’t simple. And soon, Woolly’s challenges began to reveal themselves.

Other dogs frighten him. He gets nervous and needs slow introductions and patient guidance. Food still fills him with fear. Not fear of eating, but fear of losing it. Fear that someone will take what was once scarce. In a home with another pet, he’ll need space to eat separately so he can feel secure. And treats? Well… he can be a bit grabby, so it’s best to toss his treats instead of handing them to him.

But oh, how he tries. How he wants to be loved. How desperately he leans into every pet, how brightly he looks up at people he barely knows, as if hoping that this time love will stay.

Since arriving, Woolly has gained six healthy pounds. Six pounds of strength. Six pounds of hope. Six pounds of proof that second chances can take root even in the deepest wounds.

Our veterinary team believes what we all feel in our hearts: Woolly Mammoth needs a home now. A real one. A soft, steady place where meals come on time, where voices are gentle, where he can finally fall asleep in peace.

He has already survived the unthinkable. Now he deserves what for him is the unimaginable: a life where he is loved simply for being Woolly, imperfect and earnest and trying so very hard.

Every time someone walks by his kennel, he runs to the door. Not out of desperation, but out of belief. Belief that the next person might be his person. The one who won’t disappear. The one who won’t give up.

Could that person be you? Or could you be the one who shares his story so it can reach the person who needs to hear it most?

Woolly Mammoth still has a long road ahead. But look how far he’s already come. Help him find the home and the heart he’s been searching for.

https://www.hsppr.org/pet/a1760947/

11/27/2025

Thanks to your incredible generosity, the homeless pets in our shelters got to enjoy a Thanksgiving feast they won’t forget! 🦃💛

For many of our furry friends, this was their very first Thanksgiving, and because of you, they celebrated with a delicious meal and a big helping of love from our amazing staff and volunteers.

Your support makes moments like this possible and fills their shelter days with a little extra holiday magic. Thank you for being part of this heartwarming tradition!

From all your furry (and not-so-furry) friends at HSPPR, Happy Thanksgiving! 🐾

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHGJNjvBFnE

P.S. Our Colorado Springs and Pueblo shelters are closed today so our staff can enjoy their own quality time with loved ones!

Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.

11/26/2025

Wally’s story began in one of the most heartbreaking ways imaginable. A Good Samaritan watched in horror as he fell from a moving vehicle onto the pavement. By the time he arrived at our doors, his ear was damaged, his head was scraped, and his whole body told the story of a dog who had learned to brace for the worst.

Yet somehow, Wally still greeted the world with hope.

When our admissions team gently scooped him up, he didn’t flinch. When the vet staff cleaned and treated his wounds, he didn’t struggle. And when anyone, staff or volunteer, passed by his kennel, he’d lift his head, eyes soft and searching, waiting for even the smallest sign that life might still have a little kindness left in it.

And of course, our staff met him with more than kindness; they met him with love. With patience. With the steady reassurance that he mattered.

Wally underwent surgery to repair his damaged ear. While it may never look the same, Wally doesn’t seem to mind; he wears it like a badge of honor. Between medical visits, he spent time with our behavior team, who made sure his curious mind and big paws stayed busy and happy.

For 20 days, we watched Wally transform. The frightened, scraped-up dog who arrived in crisis slowly became the dog he must have always been beneath the hurt: bright, gentle, and endlessly forgiving. And then, on day 20, the moment we had all been hoping for finally came. Someone walked through our doors who didn’t yet know their heart was about to be claimed. They stopped in front of Wally’s kennel. Wally looked up. And in that tiny, quiet instant, something clicked into place. He leaned forward. They knelt down. And the air changed. It was the kind of moment that doesn’t need words. Wally had found his person, and his person had found him. Just like that, he was home.

Wally’s story is just one of thousands we’ve had the privilege to witness this year. Since January, HSPPR has helped more than 12,000 animals find safety, healing, and homes. And as we gather around our tables this week to share what we’re thankful for, we need you to know that we are grateful for you.

Because every step of Wally’s journey was made possible by people like you. Your generosity funded the surgery that fixed his ear. Your compassion gave him warm hands and soft voices to trust again. Your commitment kept him sheltered, fed, enriched, and loved through all 20 days of recovery. Every dollar you give, every hour you volunteer, every shared post, every adoption, each act is a stitch in the safety net that catches animals like Wally when the world falls apart beneath them.

Thank you for loving the animals in our community. Thank you for believing they deserve a better tomorrow. Thank you for showing up for them, again and again, without hesitation.

Because of you, Wally found his second chance. And because of you, so many more will too. We are endlessly, profoundly grateful for you.

11/26/2025

It’s time for your weekly dose of Hand-Picked Cats!

These kitties are truly something special, so we’ve gone full fairy godmother mode and waived their adoption fees to help them find their new homes! Meet the fabulous felines of the week and help us shout their names from the rooftops (or, more realistically, your group chats, DMs, and anywhere cat people gather). Swing by our Colorado Springs shelter to meet them in person, or fall in love from afar at hsppr.org/pets.

Let’s get these cuties home, they’ve got naps to take, snacks to demand, and lives to change.
(*$20 license fee may still apply.)

11/25/2025

ADOPTED 11/25

Do you know that Willie Nelson song? The one that goes, “Laugh with me, buddy, jest with me, buddy, don’t let her get the best of me, buddy, don’t ever leave me feeling lonely”? Yeah… that one. Sometimes I think he wrote it about me, or maybe for me, or maybe for folks like me who’ve spent a little too long waiting for someone to sit beside them. My name’s Buddy, and I’ve been thinking a lot about what it really means to be a buddy. I don’t think it’s just about being fun, loyal, or good. I think a real buddy is someone who knows what it feels like to be lonely, really lonely, and decides they’ll do everything they can to make sure the people they love never feel that way.

Truth is, I’ve been lonely for a while now. When I first came to HSPPR, I had a pretty big wound on my side that just wouldn’t quit. No matter what the vets did: stitching, cleaning, checking, trying again, it just kept opening back up, like it wasn’t ready to close the chapter it came from. But those folks never gave up on me. They stayed with me, day after day, trying different closures, doing lab work to get the right antibiotics, wrapping me up gently in bandages so things could finally start to heal. And they did. Now all that’s left is a little scab that’ll finish up soon, and I feel better than I’ve felt in a long time.

But you know, being in pain is one kind of hurt. Being alone is another. Pain is sharp. It stings, it burns, it fades. Loneliness… that one’s slow. It sits with you at night. It presses down on your chest. It curls up in the quiet corners of your heart and starts whispering things you don’t want to hear. And even though everyone here has been so kind, it’s not the same as having a person. It’s not the same as belonging to someone, or knowing you’re the one they’re coming home to at the end of the day.

It’s hard being two years old and spending your days in a kennel, watching other dogs come and go while you’re still waiting your turn. Hard not being able to run the way your body is begging you to or lay your head in someone’s lap when your soul feels heavy. Hard to feel like you’re mending on the outside but still cracked down the middle on the inside. And after a while, yeah, I started acting up a bit. I barked more. I jumped at the kennel door. I got restless and frustrated because young dogs with too many feelings and too few places to put them can get loud. But I wasn’t trying to be difficult. I just didn’t want to be forgotten. I wanted someone to hear me, really hear me, calling out, “Hey… I’m still here. I still need a friend.”

I’ve been at HSPPR for over a month now. Healing. Waiting. Hoping in that slow, steady way you do when hope is the only thing keeping your tail moving. And all this time, I’ve been thinking about the same question: can someone help me find a buddy of my own? Because I don’t need much. Just someone who likes to run and play a little, who doesn’t mind a dog leaning into them when the world feels too big or too quiet, who’s got patience, kindness, and a heart big enough to let me in. Someone who won’t leave me feeling lonely again.

So if you can, would you share my story? And if you happen to be looking for a buddy, one who’s been through a bit, healed up strong, and has a whole lot of love ready to give, come meet me. My name’s Buddy. And just like the song says, I’ll laugh with you, jest with you, and I’ll never, ever leave you feeling lonely.

https://www.hsppr.org/pet/a1759240/

11/24/2025

This Thanksgiving, countless pets will be spending the holiday in a shelter. Some have never felt the warmth of a family’s hug or the comfort of a cozy home. Others may have lost their homes, their people, and their sense of safety. They’re quietly hoping someone like you will notice them, see them, and show them love.

With your kindness, the animals at HSPPR will get a Thanksgiving feast that tells them, “You are seen. You are loved. You matter.” Real turkey, green beans, and pumpkin pie, but more than that, the comfort of a full belly, soft pets, and gentle voices reminding them that they are not alone. That simple act of kindness can transform a cold, lonely day into one filled with warmth, hope, and a little bit of magic.

We all know that a holiday meal is more than just food; it’s love on a plate. This HSPPR Thanksgiving tradition is a reminder that every pet deserves joy, safety, and companionship. Your support makes that possible. A small gesture today can create a memory that lasts a lifetime for an animal who’s been waiting so long to feel at home.

Will you help bring a little warmth, comfort, and love to a pet in need this Thanksgiving? Together, we can make their shelter feel like a home and show them that they are never alone. 🦃💛🐾

Donate at the link below: https://secure.qgiv.com/for/2025thanksgivingsocialmedia

11/21/2025

Once upon a Thanksgiving week, in a house that smelled like buttered rolls and ambition, your pets were plotting. The turkey was golden, the pie was perfectly Instagrammable, and the stuffing? Basically a five-star furball temptation. But you, noble human, had a mission: keep them alive, happy, and preferably off the counter. So here’s your Thanksgiving Pet Safety Guide!

Just a Taste
First, let’s talk turkey. Sure, you could sneak them a bite, but only if it’s boneless, fully cooked, and free of all dangerous spices. Raw turkey? Salmonella. Bones? Choking hazard. That tiny shred of stuffing you thought was “harmless”? Onions, garlic, and bouillon cubes lurk like tiny toxic ninjas, ready to ruin your holiday faster than your Uncle Jerry bringing up politics at the table. And the raw dough you just Instagrammed with next to it? Keep it away, far away from hungry paws! Yeast expands in their stomach, and ethanol makes them… a little loopy.

Desserts Are Danger Zones
Pumpkin pie, chocolate, pecan tarts, they all look like edible heaven, but for your pets, they’re a horror show. Raw eggs, chocolate, and xylitol (a sneaky sugar substitute) can lead to vomiting, low blood sugar, liver failure, and even death. Your pets should be content to admire your baking from afar. No taste-testing, no sneak attacks, no TikToks of them licking frosting.

Give Them Their Own Feast
But it’s not all doom and gloom! You can create your own pet feast fit for royalty. Mix a little unseasoned turkey, sweet potato, and green beans into their regular food. You can even put them in a puzzle bowl or toy for double the fun and enrichment.

Guests Are Stressful
Ah, guests. Sweet chaos incarnate. Your cat thinks they’re invaders, and your dog is the unofficial security detail. Give your stressed pets a quiet room, blanket fort, or crate to hide in. Additionally, keep in mind that your guests may have personal items, like medication, with them. Pets ingesting medication is all too common and can be very dangerous. Remind your guests to keep their personal items up and out of paws’ reach.

Decorations Are Hazardous
Your Thanksgiving décor is gorgeous, but some of it could be dangerous for curious noses and paws. Plants, flowers, gourds, pinecones, and candles can all be toxic or harmful if chewed. Keep breakables out of reach and double-check your floral arrangements against the ASPCA toxic plants list. Your Instagram-worthy centerpiece isn’t worth a vet visit.

Trash Patrol
Trash is basically the unsung enemy of Thanksgiving. Turkey bones, chocolate wrappers, leftover dough… every time you turn your back, your pets are plotting a heist. Keep lids closed, empty often, and maybe invest in a trash can that even the most cunning Chihuahua can’t breach.

Road Trip Chaos
If your holiday plans involve travel, crate, carrier, or seatbelt harness your pet. No free-range furballs in the front seat. Never leave them alone in a parked car; heat stroke and hypothermia happen fast. Pack toys, blankets, water, and patience.

Identification Saves Lives
Even the calmest pets can suddenly audition for Homeward Bound: Thanksgiving Edition when they spot a sassy squirrel. Make sure collars, tags, and microchips are updated. Keep pets leashed or in carriers when you’re outside.

Moral of the Story: Keep your pets safe, fed, and entertained, and you’ll survive Thanksgiving with no vet visits and no shelter visits. Because your biggest stress should be who on earth is going to do all those dishes. 🦃❤️🐶🐱

11/19/2025

Far, far up north, in a land covered in powdered-sugar snow and peppermint-scented breezes, lived a dog named Nick. Saint Nick, if you asked him. He wasn’t your ordinary dog. Oh no. Nick had an important job. A magical job. A job that involved jingling bells, spreading joy, and delivering cheer wrapped in shiny paper and topped with big bows.

But this year… things weren’t going as planned.

You see, Nick lost his home at the North Pole. One frosty morning, he stepped outside to fetch his mail (mostly letters from children and an occasional coupon for 50% off magical sleigh wax), and...POOF! His cozy cabin of gumdrops and gingerbread was gone. Some said it melted in a warm spell. Others blamed the elves’ new real estate development program. Either way, Nick suddenly had no workshop, no reindeer, and no comfy chair where he liked to sit and judge the Naughty List.

All this had him feeling a teeny bit down. And when Nick was sad, he did what many of us do…

He snacked.

A lot.

And not on broccoli.

Cookies, cinnamon rolls, snowflake-shaped marshmallows, Nick had nibbled himself right into needing a little… well… fitness journey. The North Pole vet gently told him he needed to slim down and that he couldn’t stay out in the cold Arctic tundra with no house or workshop.

So Nick found himself at HSPPR, not a bad place to land at all, but definitely not the North Pole. The floors were too clean and not sprinkled with glitter. The staff were far too tall to be elves. The cats didn’t sew tiny pajamas. And the dogs who could’ve passed for reindeer barked so loudly that Nick hid under his blanket and hummed “Winter Wonderland” to himself for comfort.

The shelter humans all agreed: Nick needed a real home atmosphere. Somewhere cozy. Somewhere warm. Somewhere with holiday spirit.

And so, he went to a foster home. That’s where everything changed.

Nick’s foster family opened their door and found a shy, round-bellied dog peeking up at them with big, hopeful eyes. At first, Nick tip-pawed around quietly, trying to decide if these new humans could be honorary elves. But after just a few days, something magical happened…Nick’s tail began to wag. Then it swished. Then it swooshed. And before long, it jingled...well...metaphorically, but still.

His foster family discovered that once Nick came out of his shell, he was a genuinely jolly fellow. He beamed with a grin as bright as the star on top of a Christmas tree. He loved watching holiday movies, especially the ones with talking snowmen and dramatic sleigh chases. He strutted proudly on walks, and whenever the family hopped into the car, Nick called “shotgun!” and settled in like it was his own personal sleigh.

He was gentle, calm, and always ready to be part of the action,wrapping presents, baking cookies, or simply supervising from his favorite blanket. He had perfect manners, never jumping, never stealing cookies from the counter (unless they were left unattended… and really close… and it was a Tuesday). He learned his routine quickly, because, of course, he did; he used to run an entire holiday operation.

And like the real Santa Claus, Nick adores children. If he still had a sack full of toys, he’d hand one to every kiddo he met. But he does have a small naughty list: dogs that bounced around too wildly and zoomed into his personal space, and anyone who’d ever set off a firework. Fireworks were loud, rude, and absolutely not approved by SantaPaws.

With help from his foster family, Nick has begun trimming down for his big holiday mission. He’s practiced trotting. He’s practiced climbing into a pretend sleigh (okay, it was a laundry basket, but he had imagination). He’s even practiced his Ho-Ho-Ho bark. But there’s one thing he can’t practice…

Having a home.

Because even magical dogs need a place to call their own.

Nick can’t wrap all the presents, hitch up a sleigh, and spread Christmas cheer across the world without a special family cheering him on. He needs humans who believe in him, who will snuggle him, support him, and maybe offer him a healthy snack when he eyes a snowman cookie a little too lovingly.

And so we’re looking for someone wonderful. Someone joyful. Someone who might just be Nick’s new North Pole. Could that be you? If you’d like to meet SantaPaws himself, Nick is waiting with a heart full of hope. Contact is foster family at the link below today: https://www.hsppr.org/pet/a1652627/

11/18/2025

We’re feeling just as fabulous as Tiffany’s window display today, because Whisker Brunch 2025 was an absolute triumph! This year, we hosted a brunch that served up Audrey Hepburn–level charm and elegance, but let’s be honest, the real sparkle came from the incredible people and pets who filled the room with joy, kindness, and a whole lot of love. Thanks to the overwhelming generosity of the Pueblo community, we not only reached our $125,000 goal, we surpassed it, raising over $140,000 for Pueblo Pets!

And what does $140,000 really mean for the animals in our community? It means cozy beds and full bellies for pets waiting for their new families. It means our veterinary team can keep tails wagging, whiskers twitching, and paws healthy across Pueblo. It means Animal Law Enforcement can continue protecting those who need us most. And it means countless new Happy Tails, second chances, soft landings, and homes filled with love.

A huge thank you to our presenting sponsors, Hill’s Pet Nutrition and Fetch Pet Insurance, and to every single sponsor who helped make Whisker Brunch 2025 shine. You’re the real gems of the day! By opening your hearts, you’re helping us create a brighter, kinder, more joyful world for pets in Pueblo.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you. We can’t wait to see you next year for more laughter, love, and, of course, more furry friends to celebrate!

11/17/2025

Better together.

We say those words every day at HSPPR. They guide our decisions, shape our mission, and remind us why we do this work. People and pets are better together. Sometimes two pets are better together. And sometimes, on very special days, two pets and just the right person come together like it was written in the stars… or in a very adorable buddy-comedy script.

That’s exactly what happened with Duke and Pablo.

Duke and Pablo arrived at our shelter as strays this summer, two 12-year-old brothers with graying muzzles, gentle hearts, and a bond that was impossible to miss. They were friendly from the start, leaning into every soft word and wagging their tails at every new face. But they were tired, and they needed help. Pablo had an eye infection that required careful treatment from our veterinary team, and both boys needed slow walks, soft hands, and a little extra love from our volunteers and behavior team. And treats. Many, many treats. (They were expert treat negotiators.)

What they needed most, though, was each other. Wherever Duke went, Pablo followed. Wherever Pablo settled, Duke curled up right beside him. They were inseparable, and we knew we had to find a home that saw them not as two senior dogs, but as one pair, one story, one heart.

Of course, finding a home for two large, older pups can be a challenge. It’s a big commitment, and one not everyone can make. But “better together” isn’t just an idea, it’s a promise between us and our community. And every time, without fail, our community rises to meet that promise.

Then one day, a wonderful woman walked through our doors and met Duke and Pablo. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t see obstacles. She just saw two bonded brothers who belonged in her home. She saw exactly what we saw: two dogs who were better together.

Our behavior team recently checked in to see how the boys are settling in. Her response was simple and full of joy: “The boys are doing great. They’re super chill, so easy to care for, and they absolutely love their toys, their new beds, and their treats. I’m so happy to have them: it’s a great fit!”

And just like that, the brothers who once wandered alone are now sleeping safely under the same roof, curled up on soft dog beds, surrounded by love.

Stories like Duke and Pablo’s don’t just happen by luck. They happen because of supporters like the Colorado Pet Overpopulation Fund. Through their Adopt-a-Shelter-Pet License Plate Grant, we’re able to provide spay/neuter surgeries, medical care, and microchips to every shelter pet, care that was essential for Pablo’s healing and for giving both boys the chance to start fresh in their new home.

Because of them, Pablo received the treatment he needed. Because of them, Duke and Pablo walked out of our shelter with microchips, safety, and the comfort of knowing they will never be lost again. Because of them, this happy ending exists.

To the Colorado Pet Overpopulation Fund: thank you. Truly, deeply, thank you for all you do for the pets and people in our community. Duke and Pablo would love to give you a high-five themselves, but at the moment… they’re busy snoring in a sunbeam.

And that’s the beauty of it. That’s Better Together.