The Pongo Fund (2025)

07/05/2025

His name was Walter. 17 years old. 12 pounds of s***k.

Best Dog Ever, she said. Best Friend too.

He was deaf. Totally deaf. But he could hear with his eyes.

That meant he could still see her getting his dinner ready. And he loved his dinner.

That’s why she called us. Because just like that, he pretty much lost interest in his food.

She took the bus to the store and bought small cans of different foods. She had very little money at the end of the month, and small cans were all she could afford. Even that was a stretch.

She bought a can and took it home. Walter said no. Back on the bus to the store to get another can. Thankfully the bus was free. But she could not risk buying too many cans he would not eat. Because sometimes $1.99 is still a king’s ransom.

One day she made three trips to that store. Walter said no to all of them. Those small cans were worth more than $6.00. That’s not messing around money.

He would lick a little here and push around a little there. But there was no gusto. He was just not excited at all.

Someone in her building told her about The Pongo Fund. She never planned to call us, because she said the other people needed us more. The other people. The ones who didn’t have the extra $1.99.

She told us what was going on. She said she had been with Walter the entire 17 years. She knew she would need to take him to the vet for testing if he didn’t start eating soon. But in her gut, she thought he was fine. For some reason, he just didn’t want to eat.

Did we have any extra little cans of food she could try?

A sweet little guy named Bubba had recently crossed The Rainbow Bridge. His Mom could not throw away his beat up food dish. She asked if we could do that for her. It was an old bowl. Low sided, more of a plate than a bowl. I could tell it was good for licking.

And it looked like it had been licked many times.

She hadn’t washed it since Bubba’s last meal. She rinsed it, but then she stopped. She felt she was washing Bubba away. I asked her if it would be ok for me to wash it. We don’t have a dishwasher at The Pongo Fund, but we have a sink, dish soap, and a really soft dish wand. I told her I would be careful to not wash Bubba away.

She said ok.

While she waited a few feet away, I washed Bubba’s bowl as if I was washing Bubba. When I brought it back to show her, she cried. That wasn’t the goal. But she said they were tears of joy. Because she so very much wanted another little guy to enjoy that same bowl as much as Bubba had.

And that’s why I took Bubba’s bowl to Walter. Because sometimes our pets stop eating for the strangest of reasons. And one time I had read that sometimes changing the bowl could help. That’s not medical advice.

But that bowl had kept Bubba happy for many years. So maybe it would do the trick for Walter too.

Bubba ate well, considering the selection of different foods his Mom brought to The Pongo Fund. She also brought a little skillet that she used to warm his food. I loved it. Because I have a little skillet for Lola’s food too. I don’t heat up every meal, just every now and then. Just trying to keep things exciting.

The bowl, the skillet, and about a dozen different small cans of food went to Walter. We didn’t know if any of this would help or not. But all we had was hope.

We talked about how to transition different foods. For now, just start with a spoonful, one at a time. If he ate that spoonful, then try another. Go slow. Too much too fast was the enemy.

I created a little scorecard for her. I listed the different foods with a rating system, 1 meant he hated it, 10 meant he devoured it. We didn’t expect to see any 10’s.

I told her that patience was key. He had not eaten for two days so we didn’t want to wait too long, but we didn’t want to go too fast.

I checked in the next day. He had eaten a spoonful of chicken stew for breakfast. Then another. Then another. She added a dash of treat dust on top of the food. I made the treat dust. I told her to make sure that Walter could see her sprinkle it over the top. I was hoping he would drool as she did that.

I’m pretty sure this woman thought I was nuts.

Walter ate a few more spoonfuls for lunch. Same for dinner.

So far, so good. One step at a time.

She called the next day. She said she was concerned about something. I asked her if everything was ok? But I readied myself for the worst.

I’m the guy talking about sprinkling treat dust on things and now I’m thinking my plan of heating spoonfuls of food in a skillet had fallen apart. I worried that Walter was worse, not better.

She said Walter was doing something he’d never done before and she was worried. I pretty much fell apart. I asked her what was going on. She could not answer fast enough.

And in what seemed like the slowest reply ever, she said that after Walter’s last meal, it was 4 or 5 spoonfuls, she could not remember, after she had put his food away, apparently he had picked up Bubba’s bowl in his mouth, and followed her around with it.

She said in 17 years he had never carried a food dish in his mouth.

I asked her what she thought it meant. She said she thought it meant that he was enjoying his food and she was ready to start feeding him more.

And, if possible, could they get some more treat dust.

A couple days later Walter was back to full meals. He's doing great on his new foods. And for sure, we know that Bubba is smiling.

For Bubba.

For Walter.

For all of them.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

24/04/2025

I don’t know if this will make sense or not. I apologize if it doesn't, but I don’t want to rewrite it. Just please remember, it’s the little things.

For his 7th birthday he held a pet food drive.

For his 8th birthday he was homeless.

His Mom called, asked if we could help with dog food. They were new to the community and needed dog food. But cat food would be ok too.

Did she have a dog or a cat?

Neither.

Her son just got into school. A school with a lot of poverty. Several kids who were homeless. Kids that slept in cars or shelters or on friend’s couches. It's more common than you might realize.

Then she said one more thing.

She said if it was dry food, it should be 5 lbs or less. And if wet food, no more than 4 cans.

And that’s when it all made sense.

Because the 4 cans or 5 lbs food drive she talked about, that was for The Pongo Fund.

She just didn’t know it. And she didn’t need to know it.

The school her son just entered was in a poverty zone. Almost all of the kids were on free lunches and other programs. They came from good solid families, but families who struggled big time.

The woman who called had been fully employed. They had a home. Then their apartment building was sold and the new rent was more than they could afford. Everything was on the up and up. But they were going to be homeless in a few weeks so they moved to Portland to stay with a relative.

One of the first things her son talked about after his first day at school, was the food drive. It was for both people food and pet food. She said he had not said much at all the past few weeks, but suddenly he was really excited about something.

Even though they had no pets he understood how important pet food was, as it was just the year before that he asked everyone coming to his birthday party to bring pet food instead of presents.

When some of the kids said they didn’t understand, he told them that the pet food were the presents. This little guy, wise beyond his years.

Mom said things were tight and she wasn’t kidding. She said they did not have any extra money for pet food. Not for a small bag. Not even for a single can. She asked if we could help.

Yes we could.

Right about now you might be wondering about the 4 cans or 5 lbs. It was because we saw how in some of the grade schools we did pet food drives in, the schools where pretty much no one had any extra money, there were some kids that brought a lot and others that brought a little. And sometimes, some kids brought nothing at all.

It was no one’s fault. Just how life worked.

Especially for cans of tuna, chili or mac and cheese.

One of the teachers shared with me how awkward it was when someone arrived with huge amounts of food. And then another little kiddo came clutching a single can of tuna. Regardless, she celebrated every donation.

But she said the hardest moments were when the kids asked if they could keep the cans of tuna or chili or mac and cheese. They were that hungry.

The Mom who called was just learning about this new school. She did not know they had a food bank onsite. The food drive was for the food bank. A little food bank that got all of their pet food from The Pongo Fund. Thousands of pounds of pet food. And they had pet food because many of the families had pets. Oftentimes, those animals were the only friends the kids had to play with after school.

Money was tight, if there was money at all. Dinners were not always enough. And when they fell asleep, everyone in the family might have a growling tummy.

The little food bank was busy. The food drive brought both food and joy.

At the end of the drive all the food came back to The Pongo Fund. We repackaged it and sent it back to the school. But we did it in much larger numbers than what we had received. Because one of our Pongo Friends went to that school many years ago. Her family often went without dinner. The stomachs that growled, she was the one who told me about it.

It was her stomach.

And now here she was years later, doing all she could to make sure there were less stomachs that growled, for both two-legged and four. So with her help, we made sure a lot more food went back to that little food pantry. It was a good feeling.

The Mom who called, the one who loved her son so much that she wanted to make sure he had food for the food drive, she was a special Mom. Just as everything was falling apart, she made sure that her son still had something to celebrate.

The Pongo Friend, the woman who went to bed hungry many years ago, she picked up all of the food and delivered it back to the school. Even though she was living a very different life now, let’s just say, in her heart, she was still very much the little girl who was hungry.

And one more thing, and this is a reminder of how much we love our teachers.

A lot of families faced the same situation as the Mom who called The Pongo Fund. That’s why the teacher had a secret stash of extra dog and cat food on the ready, to make sure that every little kiddo had something to add. Food that was provided by The Pongo Fund for The Pongo Fund. Nobody really cared where the food came from. They just cared about being included.

If you’ve read this far, it may not seem like much.

But for a lot of kids, it was the Sun and the Moon and the Stars.

As Robert Brault said, “Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.”

Thank you for reading.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

21/04/2025

She called after her dog passed away. She wanted to donate his bed, leash, the personal items that brought him joy. We knew the items well, since The Pongo Fund had just provided them to her a few weeks earlier.

She was a joyful woman. Her dog was too. His name was Hank but she sometimes called him Hankie or Hankie Poo or Huckleberry. He was just a little guy with a big heart. He was 17 when he crossed The Rainbow Bridge. His Mom was devastated.

They had been a team for the entire 17 years. She found him in a pile of garbage and they were together even since. Their life was not always easy, but it was the best life they could have. For this woman, she oftentimes found herself one step forward and two steps back. No fault of her own. Just sometimes bad luck seemed to find her more often than not.

During those 17 years they bounced from tents to couches to cars several times. But when everything was going well, when good luck blessed them, they had an apartment to call their own. That’s where they were when it was time to say goodbye to Hank.

We knew them both because The Pongo Fund had been providing Hank’s food for the past 10 years. We provided a lot of his vet care too. When we could help, we helped. She was a lovely woman, always sharing her grace with us when she received food for Hank. Sometimes she came to see us, or sometimes she visited one of our many distribution sites in downtown Portland.

It was with grace that she called to let us know that Hank was gone. And to let us know the new bed we had just given him a few weeks earlier was ready for the next dog.

She talked about how much Hank loved that bed.

It had bolstered sides that he loved to push his face into, and then he would spin himself around again and again, and then push his hips into the same bolsters. Spin and spin and spin and then he was set, ready for bed or naps or whatever the day had in store for him.

She cried as she talked about it. She said she didn’t think she’d ever slept in a bed as nice as the one Hank had. She wanted to bring it back to us. We told her she should keep it close for now, that we could always get it another time. There was no rush…

She said she didn’t think she would ever have another dog, as she knew the cost of care was beyond her reach. She had lots of love but not much money. She said she would keep the bed a little while and then get it back to us.

Time marched on and she moved on. Eventually to a new city. She took the bed with her. We didn’t know that, until she called one day. She told us where she was, that she had found a wonderful little apartment that she could afford on her $800 fixed income. She said there was a garden nearby that anyone could garden in, and she often found herself helping others prune, w**d, whatever she could do. The best thing, she said, was there was a little dog park there, and she could watch all the dogs have fun.

She told herself Hank was there too. She couldn’t see him but she knew he was there.

She asked if it would be ok for her to get another dog. It was an odd question, from this woman we had not talked with for quite some time. She was in her mid 70’s, and certainly did not need our permission. But she remembered telling us that she likely would not have another dog because she worried she could not afford the care. And now she was asking us if it would be ok, for her to maybe change her mind.

For some reason, she wanted our blessing.

Of course it was.

She said there was a man at the grocery store she shopped at, he was outside with a small dog in a box and a sign that said FREE. She said no dog should ever be given away to just anyone, especially while in a box with a sign that said FREE. She said she knew she might not be able to give this dog everything he needed, but he would never live in a box.

Would we think less of her if she adopted him?

We told her that dog would be so very lucky.

She called a few days later, to let us know she had him. She named him Hank. She said she thought and thought and decided Hank was such a good name. So Hank it was.

She had already had Hank to the vet for a checkup. It was the first bill she paid after her monthly check arrived. She said the vet thought he was about 12 or 13. He was the sweetest little guy.

She asked us, who would put an old guy like that in a box and give him away. She didn’t ask it as a question, as much as a statement. There was no need for us to answer. We understood.

We talked about food, and she asked if it would be ok for her to start using food from The Pongo Fund again. Where she lived had a pet food bank that got their food from us, and she just wanted to be sure it was ok. Yes. It was very much ok.

She said they had only been together a few nights, but she loved him so much. She said he loved giving kisses. She kissed him back and called him Hankie Poo.

But it was the story she told us about their first night that really got us. The first night he curled up and went to sleep on the hard floor. Somehow he didn’t understand that the bed a few feet away was for him. She tucked him in it, in Hank’s favorite bed with Hank’s favorite blanket. But he got back out. Back in, then back out. She didn’t know what to do.

So she curled up on the floor with him and told him about Hank and how that was his bed. She told him about The Pongo Fund and about all the dogs we help and that the dinner he had earlier was from our food bank. She told him stories about the walks they would take and the park they would play in and the garden in which they would garden together. She told him he was loved.

And she told him that he will never, ever, be in a box again, with a FREE sign.

A few minutes later he snuggled up in the bed. He smooshed his face into the bolsters and spun himself around. He let out a big sigh when he found the perfect spot.

She said in the morning she woke up before he did and he was still sound asleep. She said somehow during the night, he had gotten into the same position that Hank always slept in. As if, one Hank was teaching the other.

Somehow in that moment, she knew Hank was home. And that’s where he’ll stay for the rest of forever.

She said it was because of The Pongo Fund. And she asked me to thank everyone who helps us. Because she wanted everyone to know the difference they make. So here’s to you, a thank you, to each one of you reading these words now. It’s because of you. Because everything we do, we do together.

For all the Hanks.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org

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

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