The Pongo Fund (2025)

20/03/2025

She had $12 in her checking account. And a 15-year-old cat named Gray. He was out of food.

Her daughter’s teacher told her about The Pongo Fund. Her daughter was almost 9. They had a class project that cost about $10. She had $22 in her checking account before the $10 took it to $12. It wasn’t required to spend the $10, but when you’re a Mom wanting to do all you can for your little girl, you spend the $10 and you roll the dice that you will find another $10 under the seat cushions. That’s where she looked. It wasn’t there.

Unbeknownst to her, when her daughter was beaming with compliments from her teacher for her class project, her daughter shared that her Mom only had $12 left. The class project? It was a fundraiser to help the homeless. It hit close to home, because years earlier, Mom and Gray had been homeless. Before her daughter was born.

That’s why she spent the $10 she didn’t really have, so her daughter could feel the love of helping others who had even less. As Mom said, they already had so little, but there’s always someone with less.

When her daughter mentioned to her teacher that her Mom only had $12 left, it wasn’t a complaint or criticism. It was just innocent conversation, shared the way little kiddos share. More words followed and she also shared that Gray had run out of food. Mom and Gray had both gone without breakfast.

The solution isn’t always as easy as it seems. None of this was intentional or due to bad management. There was the $10, plus a few other unexpected yet urgent life expenses. And when you already have little, it’s not easy to make up the difference. Plus, her job payday was still a couple weeks away...

Here’s the connection.

The teacher had found The Pongo Fund sometime earlier when her own family faced some unexpected hardship. They needed help feeding their two dogs. And now, in her best hope to pay it forward, she shared our information with Gray’s Mom.

No judgment. Just wanting to help.

That’s when the call came to The Pongo Fund. We took it from there. At 15, Gray had a bit of a limited diet. It all worked out. Gray received food for a couple months, so they would not need to worry about this again. Food, litter, new cat cave, some toys. We did all we could.

We asked Mom what else we could help with. Not that we really could. Just an innocent question. She said we’d done enough. In fact, she said we’d done more than enough. And the timing was so important, as she had been worrying they might not be able to keep Gray, the 15-year-old foundation of their family.

What we did, she said she never expected any of it. And she said no one would be happier than her daughter, who would be over the moon when she saw all the food for Gray.

She said it would be her daughter’s best birthday ever.

What?

Her daughter’s birthday was several days away. They would celebrate, but it would be a very small celebration at best. Mom was hoping to make a cake but didn’t have all the ingredients. And going to food banks to get cake making supplies wasn’t the way they wanted to do it. But the grocery store always had day old cakes and they were both delicious and less expensive. So she knew they’d have cake and Mom would fancy it up. She was excited talking about it.

There would be some little gifts too. Some dollar store glittery things. Some markers. A Treasure Hunt at the park. Basic fun stuff, she said.

She said it may not sound like much, but she knew her daughter would love all of it. Even better with all the cat food for Gray. That’s why she said it would be her daughter’s best birthday ever.

Because that’s how her daughter was. An extra sensitive girl. And Gray was her baby.

Somehow the conversation turned again. If she had more money, her daughter would also get some new clothes. Not fancy clothes. Just new clothes. Something just for her. Maybe even Silly. Goofy. Mismatched. Crazy colors. But that would be for another year. Maybe when she turned 10.

The Pongo Fund is blessed to have a handful of donors who like to help both the pets and the people. One of them had recently sent a gift card with a note, asking us to use it for something crazy. She had been supporting The Pongo Fund for many years, and we knew what she meant when she said to do something crazy.

Crazy good, is what she meant.

A couple days later an envelope was left in a locked mailbox. It had the woman’s name on it. Inside was a card from The Birthday Fairy. Inside the card, was the gift card. It was for the big store a few blocks away that carried everything. Especially a lot of glittery stuff in crazy colors. It wasn’t a lot, but it was love. Best of all, they would never know where it came from…

And that big store? They had birthday cakes too.

The Pongo Fund is a Pet Food Bank.

Sometimes maybe even a little bit more.

Here’s to the silly, mismatched, crazy colors inside all of us.

Saving Gray.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

(Photo is not Gray, but another cat The Pongo Fund has helped)

16/03/2025

Another day at The Pongo Fund...

Mason has been supporting The Pongo Fund since third grade, as part of a class project at Oregon Episcopal School. He’s a seventh grader now, and finally got to spend his first day volunteering with The Pongo Fund. Grandpa Kevin was there too, to share the joy.

Kevin jumped right in to join the Kibble Pack Team. And he packed a lot of kibble. Mason joined the Kibble Pack Team too, but he also worked with our Distribution Team prepping the orders for a long line of cars and trucks picking up dog and cat food for community foodbanks near and far.

It’s the kind of work that makes you feel good.

One of the things that we try to do with our younger volunteers is have step them into adult roles. In other words, we don’t downsize things for the kids. It’s not easy work. And the work that Mason did was exactly that.

While Grandpa Kevin was inside packing kibble by the ton, Mason was outside welcoming everyone making a pickup, coordinating the multitude of orders, and helping load thousands of pounds of dog and cat food into a long line of cars and trucks. And he did it all with love in his heart.

The best part was asking Mason what he thought about his day.

Mason did not use a lot of words to speak his heart. He said he was tired. But it was a good tired. I asked him if there was anything else.
He said helping others was the best part. Because helping others brings him joy. Especially the people with hungry pets.

Even when he was in 3rd grade, he connected the dots. That Hungry People have Hungry Pets. And in his world of kindness, Mason wants to help them all. Being at The Pongo Fund, let him do just that.

The Pongo Fund doesn’t require a lot of words. Just follow your heart, that’s all it takes. Thank you, Mason and Kevin, for following your heart and helping others.

You made a difference more meaningful than you know.

“What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?” -- George Eliot

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

03/03/2025

We used a spatula to loosen the parts that were stuck.

She was sort of ecru in color. The brown spots were dried p**p. Her belly area was kind of yellow. Parts of her were still white. The white color, that should have been all of her.

It was a euthanasia call. She said the dog was suffering.

She hadn’t walked for days. She was still eating and drinking, so that was good. But she p*ed and p**ped where she was, her white fur mopped the p*e that stained her belly as the p**p dried into different parts of her fur.

The dog was suffering but her eyes were alive. She was six.

This was not the time for judgment. The woman could not afford any care, not even the euthanasia. That was the call. Could we come get the dog and take her somewhere to end her suffering. We said we could. But we were hopeful it wasn’t as bad as she had told us.

Because when someone says their dog is covered in p*e and p**p, you don’t want to believe them.

She’d likely hurt her back jumping from the couch. Where she landed is where she stayed. The woman didn’t know for sure what happened. But the dog knew and did all she could to protect herself from further injury. She laid in her own puddle of waste.

When we looked closer, we saw she was stuck to the floor, the p*e and poo acting as glue. We used a spatula to loosen the parts that were stuck and slid her onto some cardboard. She wagged her tail the entire time, unable to walk but still giving kisses.

The woman told us she had done everything she could to help the dog, tapping at her gently. C’mon. Get up. Walk. Stuff like that.

If may not seem like it now, but she was doing all she knew how to do. For the woman also had trouble walking and she may likely have had her own moments spent on the ground, unable to move.

It sounded mean but it wasn’t. It was just disconnected. That’s how she talked. That’s how she grew up many decades earlier. We’re not sure if she knew any other way.

What we did know, is that this woman had many other problems going on. The dog was only one of them. And we were there for the dog, to do all we could.

At that moment we didn’t have all the answers but we knew this was not the way to say goodbye. We asked the woman if instead of euthanasia, could The Pongo Fund adopt her dog instead? Even if we needed to say goodbye, we wanted her to be part of us. We wanted her name to be with ours. Because we were the ones that would be with her to the end. The woman said she didn’t see why we would want to do that, but it was fine with her.

She rode in the back of my car, on that cardboard, covered in blankets.

As we left, we said a prayer for both of them. Deep down, we were most thankful the woman had called when she did. We didn’t know anything about her, but we could see her life was not an easy one. Despite it all, she had still made the call. And we knew that wasn’t easy.

We never saw the woman again. And we didn’t judge her. But we hoped she found peace. And if you read these words now, please be kind. For that woman did her best. It wasn't enough. But it was all she had.

The exam brought news of good bloodwork and a strong heart. Nothing was broken. A likely disc injury that we hoped would respond with treatment. It did.

The injury would always be a sensitive area, but she was being fostered in a single level home with no stairs. The foster woman said she could stay as long as needed.

It was a quick adoption, for this dog found her new home fast.

Exactly where she was being fostered.

These two did everything together. Couch naps were one of their favorite things. The couch had a ramp so no more disc injuries jumping up or down. Car rides. Parks. Swimming. Tons of love between them.

Twelve years went by in the blink of an eye.

She crossed The Rainbow Bridge a few weeks ago.

She was napping on the couch when she left.

She never knew another bad day. Loved to the end, every single minute.

The Pongo Fund started 18 years ago out of the back of a car. To this day, I still struggle to articulate what we do.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

02/03/2025

He was an hour late. He called, but still…

He picked the time and the place. And still an hour late.

He said he’d understand if we couldn’t wait. We told him we’d wait.

It wasn’t what he said. It was the way he said it.

He didn’t want us to come to him or meet him halfway. He made that clear.

A Thai place with $7.95 lunch specials was right there.

So we waited.

We saw him before we knew it was him. He was walking in half steps. The kind where the second foot meets the first foot. Not ahead of it. But next to. And he was pushing a cart.

We didn’t know that was our man. What we noticed was how hard this individual in the distance was working just to get across the street. Traffic was not kind to him. We talked about how much harder life was for some.

Then we pondered, if that was a dog sitting atop some blankets in the cart?

It was.

That was our man.

He greeted us with an apology. Then he said, “this is Daisy and she’s having a rough day.”

We had just seen him walking where every step required two, pushing a shopping cart across an intersection where cars treated him like some sort of nemesis. He said nothing about that. His only concern was that Daisy was having a rough day.

Not his rough day. But Daisy’s rough day.

He had a leg injury that caused his scatter step. He was used to it, had been there for many years. What takes you ten steps takes him twenty. But he didn’t blame it for being late.

He lived nearby in someone’s basement. He could not tell anyone he was there, so he picked the place to meet us. He planned to take the bus and bring a little cart for the many cans of Daisy’s favorite food. But Daisy wasn’t feeling well and she made clear she didn’t want to be left behind. So that meant they’d be walking, instead of the bus.

He filled her cart with blankets, plumping her on top of them so she had a clear view of everything. Because at 15, she was the one in charge. Her little jeweled collar hooked to the matching leash, looped around the cart handle. A knit sweater completed the fashion statement.

He asked how our lunch was. We told him it was good. He said he’d always wanted to eat there but it was too expensive for his budget. Maybe someday. But when he said someday, he meant it like the kind of someday that wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Because when he moved to the basement, life got more expensive. He was happy to no longer be in the tent, but indoor life brought some extra expenses. He said it was more than fair, but he didn’t always have the money. So eating a $7.95 lunch was likely never going to be in the plan.

But he said whenever he saw that little Thai place, or the several other little places on the adjoining corners, he always dreamed about all the different foods. Said this man, at 2pm, who had not had anything for breakfast except almost a full piece of toast.

Daisy had a scrambled egg from the chickens next door. And part of the toast.

She was a fawn colored mix of small breeds, they’d been together forever. But she had a stomach ache and had gotten extra finicky with her food, and he was really glad she enjoyed the scrambled egg and toast. Her most recent bloodwork was good, but he felt bad that she had an upset stomach.

They’d run out of her favorite food a little while earlier, he thought that might be why she had an upset stomach. Meeting The Pongo Fund for more food for Daisy had him hopeful she would be feeling better soon.

His foot bulged through the side of one of his shoes because of the leg injury. His foot fit the shoe, but not the way it was supposed to. His pants held in place by suspenders. His shirt likely worn by many others before him. He had most of one piece of dry toast for breakfast.

But Daisy had her bloodwork.

We asked him if he knew anything about the other restaurants on the corners. Told him we might get that way again and would maybe try something else. But that really wasn't why we asked him.

He said he had read all the menus and all of them sounded really good. But if he had to choose just one, it would be the sandwich place a few doors away.

He had half a sandwich there once and both he and Daisy loved it. He described it in a way that would have made James Beard proud. Then he said he needed to stop talking about it because it was making him hungry.

He said it as a joke. But it wasn’t.

Daisy watched his every word. She was probably dreaming about that sandwich too.

The man needed to get going, he knew Daisy would soon be ready for her afternoon nap and he wanted to get her home.

We thanked him for meeting us. As he turned to start his walk back, we walked with him for a few steps. The last storefront before the parking lot ended was the sandwich shop.

We made sure that was our next stop.

Because hungry people have hungry pets.

“What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?” – George Eliot

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

14/02/2025

Valentine’s Day, 2025. And French Fry Friday too.

Today marks nine years since Scooby crossed the Rainbow Bridge; he was almost 22. The Dog of Love left us on the Day of Love. I still love him and miss him to the moon and back, and I thank you for loving him too. Because when I talk about loving a dog forever, it’s because I know. Because I live and love those words too.

In memory of Scooby Chusid, The Beagle Buddha.

August 31, 1994 - February 14, 2016.

Always Loved. Always Remembered.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

14/02/2025

She said Merry Christmas.

In February.

Pretty much everything in life had not been going her way. And yet, there was the Merry Christmas.

An apartment lost due to the things that happen to someone living month to month with only pennies left at the end. That’s on a good month. Because even the safety net, isn’t always safe.

And for the bills that don’t get paid, there’s no emergency fund. If there were, that would have kept the lights on.

But Merry Christmas.

She was one of the happiest people we'd ever met. Her new SRO apartment was tiny. After a short stay on the street, her and Pete were once again housed. A bed. A chair. A TV table. The basics. But really, none of it important.

Pete. Her dog.

That’s what was important.

He’d not been feeling well. She scrapped together the money for bloodwork, 10 cents at a time. Too proud to ask for help. But every night counting out her coins to know she was that much closer.

The bloodwork came back. All normal for her 14 year old Pete. And he was feeling better so it was cause for celebration. She wanted to treat him to a special dinner. It was a food she saw at the store a few weeks earlier. She showed it to him, and she told him that one day he would have it.

But at $4.99 a can, let’s just say it wasn’t in the budget.

There were several people in her building receiving food from The Pongo Fund. They had dogs and cats and that’s why we were there. Sometimes we'd sneak a few extra things in for the people too.

Some extra cans of tuna or black beans or a jar of pickles for the man with no teeth. Some mustard or ketchup or mayo is always a big hit too. Until you go without, you just don’t realize how important those things are…

When a 99 cent bottle of mustard feels like a miracle.

She saw us and asked about dog food. By chance, did we have anything extra. If not, maybe next time, she said. She was new to the building and had never heard of The Pongo Fund. But as we wandered the hall delivering dog and cat food, she said it reminded her of Santa Claus.

She shared her story.

Pete yawned in agreement.

She told us what Pete normally ate and we had a bag of food that was virtually identical. She was happy. Pete yawned some more. And then she told us about Pete and how he’d not been feeling well but now he was better and that night was going to be their celebration dinner.

She also told us about the can of wet food at the grocery store. The one for $4.99. She talked about it like it was something at Tiffany. She described the can and the photo on the front.

The main ingredient was boneless chicken breast. She said she needed to stop talking about it for fear she would begin to drool.

She said that one day she would be the one buying the $4.99 can of dog food. She looked at Pete as she said it. And then she said to him, maybe they’ll share it. Because for many people, $4.99 means dinner for two.

Pete gave her kisses.

The food she saw in the store, we knew the food.

As wet foods go, it’s one of the better ones. And we just happened to have 12 cans with us downstairs.

Twelve cans of something, that this woman dreamed of. Just one of them would send her over the moon.

Let’s just say that a few minutes later, this woman and her Pete,

they went over the moon…

Twelve times.

And an extra special thank you now, to the woman who sent us a grocery store gift card that you said you would never use. We shared it with Pete’s Mom, along with the note you included.

About grace and giving and most of all, love.

She used it to stock the little refrigerator in her new apartment. Just as you dreamed someone would do. Just as you, had one time done too...

Merry Christmas. That’s what she said.

Thank you to everyone who joins with us on this wonderful ride we call The Pongo Fund.

Because Hungry People Have Hungry Pets.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

02/02/2025

He rushed his words, said he wanted to show me something, as he pushed open the door to his Section 8 apartment and pointed at a tiny dog cinnamon rolled up tight on his bed.

We were there for our monthly delivery, bringing food and supplies for all the animals in the building.

All the animals, except that one.

The man had been standing outside when this little dog came running up and did not leave. He scooped the dog up and waited for whoever would surely be following. But no one followed.

He took the dog up to his room and wrapped him in towels to warm him up, then the dog curled up on his bed and did what dogs do best. Took a nap.

The man was terrified. Not because of the dog. But he was on parole, and he feared if he called the owner’s number on the collar, someone would accuse him of stealing the dog.

That’s when he saw us in the building. He didn’t know where else to turn.

The dog snored.

The man feared.

The whole thing had happened less than an hour earlier.

I asked him if he would like to call the phone number and let the people know their dog was safe and ready to come home. He said he would. Even though he was terrified, I told him I’d back him up.

Then he asked me if I thought there would be a reward.

I told him yes. It would be good karma.

He said that was good, he needed that.

But I could tell from his question, there was more to it than that. The reward he asked about, might not be what you're thinking.

It turns out the little dog lived just a hop, skip and a jump away. While this man lived in a tiny low rent apartment, this little dog lived in opulence, in a gorgeous condo building so close that they all smelled the same air.

He called. They met outside. The people showered the man with praise. They offered him some money. He turned them down. He said his reward was Good Karma.

The man was relieved to see the dog back with his people. It was one of those total accidents where the dog had gotten loose but there was quickly a happy ending.

Everyone went their separate ways. But before we left, I asked the man what he was thinking in terms of a reward. He said a few bucks. I asked how many. He said maybe five.

"Maybe five."

But he answered so fast, like that five dollars was special to him in more than a five dollar way.

I asked him that. If there was something special he planned to do with the five dollars, if he had received it. He said yes. He told me.

Ripped my heart out.

The five bucks and what it meant. It wasn’t even for him.

This man kept this dog safe. The whole thing happened so fast the people who owned the dog had not even had time to report him missing.

The reason the man had not already called the phone number on the collar is he thought he would be accused of stealing the dog. And that really scared him.

The man felt guilty as if he had done something wrong, when in fact, he was this dog’s guardian Angel. Out of everyone else, this dog picked him.

It wasn’t perfect by any means.

Or maybe it was.

I thanked the man for his kindness. It was kindness he didn’t even know he had. His life was a struggle and he deserved to know he had done something good.

As for the five dollars, I gave it to him. And several more. Because I knew the five dollars wasn’t going to be enough.

Aside from the money, I sensed this man lacked hope. Even the smallest amount. He had just been part of something special, and he didn’t even know it.

I asked him, in all the world, what he hoped for.

He said he hoped to be a good person.

I told him he absolutely was. And that the little dog would be the first one to agree.

Because at the end of the day, when everyone went to bed, there was a little dog and a family having the best night of their lives.

And it was because of him.

With Hope.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

31/01/2025

I asked his name and he sang a song.

His dog was calm, relaxed, happy to get belly rubs from a stranger with treats.

Her name was Sparkle. Because she sparkled. He said that about her so that was her name. He said she was the only reason he lived.

He looked younger than his years. His skin did not show age. He had been on the street for a long time but time not measured in years. Just, it was a long time, whatever that meant.

The way he spoke, each syllable had a home. He harmonized each word. The entire time, a hand either on or near his dog, always close to his dog. There was comfort there.

Many of the things he said did not make sense. But that was my fault.

He was fine. His dog was fine. Not perfect. But fine.

We were there with dog food, blankets, a coat. It was a regular day. Sunny. Cold.

He was happy in his world, wherever that world was. He did not talk about the economy or politics or traffic or money.

He loved the socks we brought him for his cold feet. They were heavy and he could wear them at night. Because at night he said his feet turned blue.

There was also a new toothbrush. He had not seen toothpaste for a long time and he looked at the tube and said it felt like Christmas. A small roll of quarters for the vending machine not far away. He said he would share the quarters with others.

When he said thank you, he did it in a way that made it more than two syllables. I don’t know how he did it, but he did it with harmony. And he did it with love.

His life was not easy. But he was happy and grateful. Made me sad for all that he might have endured before now, to find joy living in a tent on the street.

But he had Sparkle. Life was good. He said so himself.

As we left, he said we should feel free to stop by anytime.

Because we were friends now.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

20/01/2025

Her name was Clair. It was short for Clairvoyant.

No one knows for sure if she was or she wasn’t.

But she was.

That’s what her Mom said.

She showed up outside her door one day. Mom did everything she could to get her back to where she belonged. But nothing.

The shelter was full, and they asked her to keep Clair until she was found. Mom took her in for that first night, but it was going to only be that one. Then another. Then another. Each night to be the last because she knew Clair’s family would come rushing to get her when they learned where she was.

She even told Clair that. That this was only a temporary stop. That she would be going home soon. Not because she didn’t love her. She loved her immediately. And she knew that Clair’s family must be going crazy not knowing where she was.

Clair. All 10 pounds of her. A mix of all good things.

More days and nights, and Clair was still there.

And every night a prayer, that Clair’s family would find her. And every morning she told Clair that today would be the day, she would be going home soon.

The reason that Clair could not stay longer in this new place was that this woman could barely care for herself. Life had not been kind to her the past few years. A job loss, a husband loss, many things broken beyond repair, in all senses of the word.

Broken most of all, was her.

The food boxes were quickly separated into things Clair could eat and those she could not. She didn’t eat a lot but what she ate, they ate together.

They made Clair bakes and Clair scrambles and Clair meatloaf, Clair burgers and Clair casseroles and Clair pupcakes.

But good as it sounds, the woman was going hungry. Because the food stamps only went so far, and those food boxes were pretty much all she had.

That’s when she found The Pongo Fund.

And for the next few weeks, almost every meal that Clair enjoyed, had The Pongo Fund name on it.

Until the woman decided the next meal would be the last. Because things had taken another turn, and she could not continue the way it was.

Her next meal.

That’s the one that was going to be the last.

She had a lot of medications left over from her husband. They controlled his pain until they could not. But she still had them and some of them were very strong and she laid the bottles on the table to figure out what to take. The cocktail that would take her away, out of her own pain.

She had a plan, or she thought she had a plan. She would have her neighbor come check on her under some fictitious reason, the neighbor would find a note, telling her all the next steps. Most of all, telling her about Clair.

She left for a moment to do something and when she came back Clair was on the table and all of the bottles and medications had been knocked down.

Clair had never been on the table before.

Not only that, she had no idea how Clair got onto the table.

But like a bowling ball rolling over 10 pins, everything was scattered.

She looked at the mess and she looked at Clair. Nothing was said. As she began to put things back onto the table, one by one Clair knocked them back down.

And that’s how Clair got her name. Somehow, she knew what this woman intended to do. And Clair was not going to let it happen.

That was the Clairvoyant part.

The woman called the shelter the next day and adopted Clair. The Pongo Fund “loaned” her the money for Clair’s first vet visit. And it broke her heart when the exam showed Clair had lived a pretty hard life too. A lot of damage, without explanation. But there she was, still happy as a lark.

Back then, the loaning the money part was the only way this woman would let us help, if she could pay us back. We said ok. We had already been providing all of Clair’s food, but now it was going to be more. She asked if it was ok for her to keep using The Pongo Fund for food.

Of course it was.

The next day she found a new counselor to talk with. And a few days later she found out what she needed to do to complete her previously unfinished degree.

In social work.

Today the woman is a crisis counselor. She talks to people during their hardest days. One of her first questions for them, is to ask if they have any animals.

And sometimes, during a home visit, if the person did not have any animals, she would bring Clair along. And quicker than not, Clair always seemed to find a way to wiggle herself onto the lap of a total stranger. And once on that lap, Clair went to work.

As Clair’s Mom spoke with words, Clair spoke with belly rubs.

The day she found Clair was about 12 years ago.

Her Mom always told us, The Pongo Fund saved two lives that day.

Clair crossed The Rainbow Bridge in December.

For Clair.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

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