The Pongo Fund (2025)

18/10/2025

She adopted Frankie Bananas 10 years ago. That wasn’t the plan.

She fostered for a shelter in her town and Frankie was not doing well. Frankie wasn’t his name but someone decided it would be, so that was the name written on his card. All they knew was that he was miserable.

A little dog mix of Cairn and several other ingredients, he came in at about 8 pounds. They knew nothing about him except he was thin and matted and covered in fleas.

And he wanted nothing to do with anyone.

That’s when some of the volunteers decided to put together a Frankie Train. Like a meal train, but only for Frankie. There were four of them, and everyone would get him for a week. It would be a group foster. They felt that by working together they’d be able to help him find his inner Frankie again. At least, that was the plan.

Patience was key. They would do nothing except what he wanted to do. He would eat when he wanted to eat, he would sleep when he wanted to sleep.

It would be Frankie’s World and these four were just along for the ride.

She never knew she had been played. At least, not at first. When she was nearing the end of her first week with the Frankie Train, the next foster had an emergency and asked if she could keep him another week. She said sure. Frankie was no trouble at all. He was calm and quiet and pretty much wanted to be left alone.

He was also sad. And you don’t rush sad.

Around Day 10 Frankie went nuts. Total meltdown. But it was the best kind of meltdown. It was as if he suddenly realized all the toys and all the beds were for him. He power zoomed through the house like a pro. Zigging and zagging this way and that, sliding into doors and furniture and falling down and jumping back up and doing it all over again.

This woman told the others that all of a sudden, he went bananas.

And that is how Frankie Bananas became Frankie Bananas.

Of course the other three on the Frankie Train decided that with this breakthrough, maybe she should work with him another week. She wasn’t really working with him. He was just doing whatever he wanted to do. He still wasn’t out of his shell, and he was a long way from being happy. But every now and then, he would go bananas.

So there was hope.

The second week turned to three, and he continued to find his inner Frankie. When it was time for week four, everyone decided she had done such a great job that maybe Frankie should stay with her and not move from place to place. There was a group giggle among those friends and that’s when she figured it out.

Frankie Bananas wasn’t going anywhere. He was home.

As the years went on they moved to Oregon. And like for many, there were some hard times. They found The Pongo Fund at one of the many human food banks we provide food to, and thankfully Frankie loved our food.

One day she was in Portland for an appointment and she called The Pongo Fund to see if she could get some food. We had been working offsite all day and had just gotten back, and she was five minutes away so the timing was perfect.

And that’s when we learned about Frankie Bananas. It wasn’t a long story. But it was a good story. He was doing great, living life on his terms. Happy and healthy and still zooming whenever he wanted to zoom.

She left with a bag of dry food and several cans. Frankie loved his wet food but like for many, it had become too expensive for her to buy except every now and then. So we were happy to help with that too.

She no longer fostered for the shelter in her old town, but she was still friends with those who did. And they were quick to tell her they had another Frankie kind of dog. A sweet little guy, totally shut down.

They talked about Frankie Bananas and celebrated the last ten years. Because sometimes in rescue, all you can do is talk and hope and wait for the animals to do the rest.

Someone made a joke about the old Frankie Train. Would she want to be part of a Frankie Train for this new dog? Of course it wasn't possible, she didn't live there anymore.

But when friends with friends talk about dogs, things happen.

And that’s how Frankie Bananas found a friend. All the toys and all the beds are ready for him when he's ready.

The woman shared her story just to share. She didn’t need food or anything, and she knew the food bank near her house still had regular shipments from The Pongo Fund.

She just wanted us to know that we were a big part of her life. There had been many days that she worried about having enough food for Frankie Bananas, and she always knew we were there to help. And that made all the difference.

She said she was calling her friends to let them know that Frankie had a new friend. And she said The Pongo Fund was one of her friends, and that’s why she called.

To say thank you.

(I think we might have helped another dog named Frankie Bananas once before too, but I'm not sure. But it's a good name.)

For all the Frankie Bananas out there.

And to every one of you who works in rescue, doing all you can to help everywhere you can. We thank you. You are Heroes.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

13/10/2025

There were about 50 large bags.

They went to a place where people don’t like to ask for help.

So that’s where we helped.

A call from a woman who said she heard about The Pongo Fund from someone at her church. Her neighbor had a dog and she knew the dog was hungry. How did she know? Because she saw the man losing weight, the man who owned the dog. She knew he was going hungry so his dog did not.

We asked if she had a dog. She said she did. We asked if her dog was hungry too. She said, “honey, around here, everyone’s dog is hungry.”

We spoke with the man at the church. He was the Pastor. He had begun keeping a list of things people needed. He told them if he ever won the lottery everyone would get everything, or something like that. Except he didn’t play the lottery. But he dreamed big. And he had Hope.

He knew many people were asking for dog food. He didn’t have a dog but growing up he did and he knew tough times. He also knew that this small town they called home was a resilient community. It was a take care of your neighbors kind of place.

Even when it seemed like every neighbor needed help.

But that’s when he had the most Hope.

We set a Pop Up Pongo Day. He would gather the people from his list, the people needing dog food. He would provide the people and we would provide the food. It was not a long visit. We were there, they were there. Hugs and handshakes outnumbered the people because many of them hugged more than once.

No one there knew The Pongo Fund. Our name could have been anything. But they knew hunger. And that’s why we were there.

They didn’t have a clue who we were, just that we came from Portland. That was fine. In fact, that’s what we’re used to. The majority of those we help have never heard of us. We feed their pets, but they haven’t got a clue who we are. Because the great majority of our work is behind the scenes.

The Pongo Fund. We are the Quiet Helpers.

There was no media or radio or TV for the event. They didn’t have that. Not in this little town. The Pastor was the messenger. He said he would have the people there. Based on that, The Pongo Fund’s job was to load up and show up. This event was just for dog food, but we brought some cat food too, because we know.

We weren’t there long. We didn’t stick around for accolades or pats on the back. These people needed to get back to work.

The thing about hunger, is that it’s always there.

No matter how much we help, it’s always like the first time. Because today’s breakfast doesn’t feed tomorrow.

Because we know in the blink of an eye, tomorrow is waiting.

Cold and hungry and too proud to ask for help.

And that’s the place we’ll go next.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

06/10/2025

They were little girls at an age where anything could be exciting. Even a 12 pack of sparkling water.

They came to The Pongo Fund for dog food. They were with their Mom.

Mom called her local humane society for help for their 15 year old mixed breed that had been part of the family since a little pup. Now part deaf with rickety hips. But that’s not why they called the humane society.

They called the humane society because they could not afford to buy dog food. Mom was worried about the days ahead. They feared the worst.

Her name was Bella. The kids called her Banana.

The humane society sent her to The Pongo Fund. They knew we could help. And we did.

The family had been in a shelter and also staying with friends, and now were getting ready to move back into an apartment.

That’s another story. Let’s not tell that one.

While Mom was telling Bella’s story, the littles stood nearby. They knew they were someplace where they were getting food for Bella. And they also knew there was some sparkling water a few feet away.

It was sitting in box on a table. They knew it wasn’t theirs, but they loved talking about it.

Maybe we haven’t lived until we listen to two little kiddos talk about sparkling water. About the sound of the can opening. About the bubbles poking them in the nose. And then listening to them silly laugh over and over again. Their conversation was hysterical.

The cans on the table had no idea they were being talked about.

Finally one of the littles asked their Mom if they could get a can of sparkling water. They thought maybe it was something they could buy. The Mom told them it did sound good, but they could not afford it. Maybe next month. The kids said ok.

They said ok with complete understanding. There was no pushback.

They said it in the way that made me wonder if they had had those conversations before. I had a feeling they had.

Times were tough. Even dog food was a stretch. A can of sparking water was not on the menu.

I suspected they knew they were not going to get the water even before they asked about it. But it was right there and they dreamed of it tickling their little noses and that made them laugh. And even without drinking the water, they were still enjoying the water.

That water had to be the happiest water ever.

When I was done talking to the Mom about Bella’s food, I said something along the lines of how great her kids were. They seemed kind. And they were having such good silly fun. The Mom thanked me for that. I imagine she had heard those compliments before.

She then shared some details I’m not going to share now. Life had been pretty rough for them of late.

But they were safe and strong and on the other side and moving forward. Mom had a good job and everyone was healthy. And now that The Pongo Fund would be helping with Bella’s food, Mom said she was happier than she’d been in a long time.

Because Bella was their everything.

We packed up Bella’s food, a new bed, some toys the littles got to pick out, a new leash and collar and pretty much anything we could help with.

And then came the water.

It’s a small box. 12 cans. You know the size. And I asked the Mom if it was ok to send it home with them. She paused. She said we’d already done too much.

I told her they were making our day better by giving us the chance to help. And how happy that water would be to get to go home with two little kiddos that would love it.

She said thank you many times.

Then she said something I never expected.

She asked about the can deposit. The cans were worth $1.20 extra, with the deposit. She asked how to get that money back to us.

I was gobsmacked.

This woman wanting to make sure she was not getting more than we intended. The 12 cans we were sharing, surely we didn’t intend to also let her keep the deposit money too. And that’s what she was asking about.

I thanked her for thinking about that. She said she thinks about cans a lot, because there were many times she would collect them to return. She and the kids sometimes did it together. They then used the money to buy food for the shelter they had been staying at. Even though they will not be there anymore, they will still visit.

I crumbled a bit with every word she said.

I had a solution. I also had three bags of empty cans waiting to be returned.

I told her that I rarely made it to the store to return our cans, and we had three bags waiting. I told her she would be doing me a huge favor if she would take our cans too, and return all of them and share that extra money with the shelter. She said she could take one bag. I said perfect. When the girls saw the bag of empty cans they about lost it.

They went bonkers over the cans of sparkling water.

They went extra bonkers over the bag of empty cans.

“If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.” – Buddha

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

30/09/2025

He said it was their Spa Day.

It wasn't.

That was their joke.

They came to the city every few months.

It was for tests. For his wife. It wasn't a spa. Not even close.

They had a few rules. They were good ones.

During their drive they could not talk about anything medical. Not even a Band Aid or skinned knee. No downer conversations.

So they listened to podcasts instead.

Podcasts about the weather.
Podcasts about Thanksgiving.
Podcasts about grandkids.
Podcasts about LOVE.
The goofier the better.

But their podcasts weren't on Spotify or Sirius or Apple.

They were better than that.

Like homemade Apple Pie.

Because THEY were the podcast.

Because people of a certain age don’t need others to talk for them. They can do it just fine on their own.

Especially after a lifetime of being happily married. Because they had plenty to talk about.

Just not medicine.

One of the other rules was that he could not hang out during her appointments. He needed to go away and do something else.

His mind was always there with her, but he did what she told him to do. Because she was never wrong. So he just sort of brambled about, a little of this, a little of that.

One day someone at the doctor’s office told him about The Pongo Fund. Apparently he had talked about dogs too many times and the nurse told him maybe he could volunteer while he was in town. Her office team had done a Kibble Pack at The Pongo Fund and really enjoyed it. She thought maybe he would enjoy it too.

He stopped by. He packed kibble.

He was slow. He dropped a lot of kibble. Sometimes he forgot to put the label inside the bag.

But boy oh boy, he loved it!

There was only one thing he didn’t like.

That his wife was not there with him.

He told us he did not enjoy life as much when she was not there. But he also knew kibble packing at The Pongo Fund was not going to work for her.

So we talked about other things.

He grew up poor. Sometimes they had dogs. They all struggled together, two legged and four.

He knew there were many people in his small town who struggled. And he knew they had dogs. And that’s when it came together.

Could he take food home with him, that he and his wife could pack together, and then he would deliver it to where it was needed.

We told him that was called being a Kibble Courier. And we’d love to have him join us.

He could not have been happier.

He left that day with a few bags of food. Not a ton by any means. Just enough. The next time they were in town he gave a call and picked up more food. That’s how it worked.

Eventually the tests were no longer needed. And his second set of hands was no longer there to help. But he kept the kibble going, still talking with her as they always had. It was the same. But different.

He said he got too much joy from delivering dog food to those who needed it. He missed his wife tons, but he kept kibbling for both of them.

Someone from his church called. That’s how we learned he had crossed The Rainbow Bridge. That he and his wife were once again Kibble Packing together.

The Kibble continues. The people are different. But the meaning is the same.

A community is better because of people who care.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

26/09/2025

He called for cat food. Litter too if we had it. But mostly for cat food.

Willow was 16. She was doing well despite the odds. Give her a lap to lay on, and she was a happy girl.

She still enjoyed her crunchies, but she was becoming a wet food girl. Stews were her favorite, but that was only an occasional treat. They were more expensive than the pates, and he could barely afford the pates. He would add water to them, but he knew she did not love them.

But on that day all the money was gone, and they were down to one last can of pate. He needed help.

His caseworker told him about The Pongo Fund.

And he made the call that he hated making.

He said he was too stubborn to ask for help. But he had no choice. He said if he could not feed Willow, he would need to let her go, to find a new home. Because she deserved better, this sweet and graceful older girl that he had raised since the size of a dinner roll.

We told him we had the crunchies, and we had the stew. She liked chicken or fish the best, and we had them both. He then asked about the cat litter. He said the food was enough, he did not deserve more. But if we had the litter, even a small bag, just this once, he would be extra grateful.

Yes, we had the litter.

We had the crunchies. We had the stew. We had the litter.

There was a pause on the line. Both parties were still there. Just an uncomfortable silence. Our volunteer asked him if there was anything else on his mind. Because he sensed there was.

Willow’s Dad asked if we had any toilet paper.

There’s no easy way to ask that question, no matter the context. Especially when calling a Pet Food Bank, it's a far harder question to ask.

He said he was out of toilet paper. Our volunteer knew we had a few rolls at The Pongo Fund. He knew it wasn’t a common request, but when you need toilet paper, you really deserve to have toilet paper.

We asked the man how much he needed.

He said two rolls would be great.

Our volunteer said we would have it ready for him, with the cat food and litter.

The man mumbled words of gratitude. Even after the fact, he was uncomfortable that he had even asked.

And then he asked one more question.

He asked if it was one ply or two?

Our volunteer told him it was two ply, because he knew. Because he had just bought it and donated it to Pongo.

The man said he only needed one roll then, that he would separate the two layers and make it last twice as long.

Our volunteer didn’t know what to say. But at that point, he wanted the man to have two rolls of toilet paper. There were a couple dozen rolls in the package, so letting this man find the comfort of two rolls was the right thing to do.

There was some back and forth, and then the man said he was a retired Marine, and he had gone many a day without toilet paper. He didn’t need anything fancy. That one roll was fine.

Our volunteer told him ok. One roll it was. The man had some mobility issues so our volunteer agreed to drop the food off at his apartment.

He put together the dry cat food, the cans of stew, the bag of cat litter, and some toilet paper. He put it all in a box and dropped it off at the man’s door. And that was that.

When he told me the story, it was painful when he talked about the toilet paper. He said the man was very proud, and asking for help was not easy for him. The part about asking for two rolls of toilet paper and then reducing it to one, really hit our volunteer hard.

I asked him how he handled that. Did he give him the two rolls after all?

He said he did not.

He gave him four.

And he included a note, telling him why. I don't know what words he wrote, but I know they were words of love...

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

25/09/2025

It’s hard to tell from the photo, but that’s a great picture.

Maybe not Ansel Adams great. But The Pongo Fund great.

A lot of hungry dogs and cats will be the first to agree.

A sweet couple drove more than 100 miles to pick up that food. And then they turned right back around and drove 100 miles back home, to deliver it back to the busy food bank in their small town. They both volunteer at that food bank, have been doing it for years.

They used to volunteer in the office but now they were in the front room greeting the people, and they recently learned that one of their most common requests was for dog and cat food. They said they had no idea how many people were asking for it.

And they didn’t have it.

Their dream was to have a consistent supply so that every hungry animal could have dinner. And that’s when they found The Pongo Fund.

Two hours each way, then more time spent unloading when they got back. And then they set up an assembly line to repackage the dog food, put The Pongo Fund label inside each bag, and then they stock the shelves so everyone needing dog food will find dog food.

As an added tidbit they shared, they said the majority of their volunteers are seniors, and everyone helping repackage the dog food will be over the age of 75.

What a great group that must be.

The cat food is on the bottom in the yellow and black totes, and it’s already packaged and ready to go. The top layer of boxes includes an assortment of other supplies, all of them specifically requested by the many folks who frequent their food bank. Leashes. Collars. Coats. Toys.

Even tiny winter booties for a little old doxie with sensitive paws.

There is a saying that none are less visible than those we decide not to see.

Thankfully this sweet couple, more than 160 years between them, made sure to see everyone coming through their door. Even when those people might not have seen themselves.

To each one of you reading these words now, thank you for being along on this wonderful ride called The Pongo Fund. Thank you for seeing us. Because everything we do, we do together.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

23/09/2025

He said she was 12. But a grown up 12.

That’s what her Dad said when he called The Pongo Fund.

He was at the hospital with his wife, who had been admitted overnight. He was calling to cancel his pet food appointment because he could not leave.

Their dog was 14 or 15. He was almost out of food. An unexpected job loss, unexpected medical complications, many unexpected bills. Lots of unexpected things meant money that was tight had become tighter. They needed the dog food badly.

He asked if their daughter could pick the food up for him. He said she was 12. He went on and on about how responsible she was, that she would take the bus to see us and she would then take the bus home. The Pongo Fund was his only hope. Could we help?

Yes, we could help.

But having his daughter take the bus to see us after school and then taking the bus home was more than we wanted this young girl to do. No matter how great of a kid she was, we wanted to find another way.

We suggested an alternate plan.

The Pongo Fund then called on an old volunteer. She had helped us many years ago, before life took her another direction. But she used to live in the same area as this family. We gave her a call, because once a Pongo, always a Pongo.

She took it from there.

A bag of dog food was delivered to their home. She met the daughter. She said the daughter was the kind of kiddo that would make any parent proud.

The food was delivered. The little girl was a great kid. Far as we knew, that was the end of the story. We were glad to know things went well.

The Dad called the next day. We thought he was going to thank us for the dog food delivery.

That was part of it, but not all of it.

He was calling to thank us for his daughter’s dinner.

And for his dinner, too.

Apparently our Pongo volunteer called an audible, and realized that dog food wasn’t the only food needed. They had some food, that wasn’t the problem. And the little girl knew how to prepare the food, so all was fine there.

But with everything going on, this woman felt that a home cooked meal might provide some extra comfort. So she whipped up dinner for the daughter and delivered it back to their home.

And she included dinner for the Dad too.

And she never mentioned a word about it. She just did it.

He said when he got home his head was spinning, and then he learned what happened, and then to find a plate for him too, it made a rough day a little less rough.

He said their dog loved the food assortment we provided. And he said his wife will be home soon, to keep fighting the fight.

He said thank you.

I called our volunteer back, and thanked her again for her help. She never mentioned the dinner she delivered, so I asked about it. She said it was nothing.

That she was just being a Mom.

Being a Mom.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

19/09/2025

He said to look for the man with the blue suitcase. That’s how we’d know it was him.

Ok. Easy enough. Blue suitcase.

It was a couple blocks from his apartment. That’s where he wanted to meet. The driveway to another apartment complex. He said he knew someone there, so that’s where we’d meet. It sort of made sense.

Cat food and Cat Litter. That’s what we were delivering.

He requested smaller bags if possible. Small enough to fit into the blue suitcase with wheels. If not, he said that would be ok too. He said anything will help. The smaller bags would be the best, though. But he wanted to make sure we knew he was grateful for anything.

A few weeks earlier he saw a cat get hit by a car. It was on the side street, not the busy street. So at least the car wasn’t going 50. The man was outside, several feet from the street. The cat limped and dragged himself to where this man was.

The man had cats before. Before he lost his leg. Before his wife died. But these last several years he knew he could not properly care for a cat. Not physically. Not financially. But for this cat, in that moment, this man was all there was.

The man got the cat to a vet. He was sore, but overall, ok. The cat was little. And he was not young. He had been someone’s cat at one time, likely for many years. But now he carried the scars of many rough nights, a world far away from living indoors.

But…

The man lived in a complex that did not allow pets. But he knew a woman nearby who loved cats and she said she would take this little old guy.

But just like that, things changed. And she could not take him.

So this man who could not afford a cat either physically or financially, and who lived in an apartment complex that did not allow cats, suddenly realized he was all there was. He told the cat it wouldn’t be a fancy life, but together, they would find a way to make it work.

But they would need some help.

Then he found The Pongo Fund.

He said he would rebudget his $900 per month to make sure little Milo got all the care he needed. He’d already paid for the exam, the post accident treatment, vaccinations, some food. But for ongoing food, he worried he’d need some extra help from time to time.

That’s why we were looking for the man with the blue suitcase. For some extra help.

His neighbors knew he had the cat. The apartment manager knew he had the cat. But the new building owners were visiting the property and the last thing this man wanted to do was draw attention by having someone dropping off bags of cat food and cat litter to a place that really should have no need for cat food or cat litter.

That’s why he picked the drop off place a couple blocks away.

The smaller bags of food and litter would be secreted inside the blue suitcase that he would wheel home. No one would know.

When we got there, he waved us down. A few moments later, he asked if we had any trouble finding him. Did we see the blue suitcase, as he hoped?

We told him we didn’t see it right away, because it was behind the wheelchair.

The big power wheelchair he was sitting in. He didn't mention that to us. Like maybe, look for the man in the big wheelchair. No. He said, look for the man with the blue suitcase.

That’s when he laughed.

He said he sometimes forgets he’s in a wheelchair. He forgets he lost a leg.

He only uses the big wheelchair when he goes out. It’s too big for inside, but he had a smaller wheelchair there. But he’d been using that very little, since running over cat paws was a real thing.

All these little snippets of life from a man who loved cats, even though he was not supposed to have a cat. But somehow, this cat, in the moments after he was hit by a car, found this man.

The man told us he was going to do his best. And that he would only call us when things were really bad. He then asked if we had any really small scratching posts. We asked him how small. He said small enough to fit inside his blue suitcase so as to not draw attention. We told him we did not.

But we did have a medium sized one that someone had just dropped off, but it was too big for the blue suitcase. He said it was too risky, that he didn’t want to get evicted, because that would mean both he and Milo would be homeless.

We asked him if he ever had anything delivered from Amazon. He said once or twice, that the drivers were really nice and would sometimes put the box inside his door if it was heavy.

We told him we had a plan.

The next day we left an Amazon box outside his door. It wasn’t really from Amazon. It had been once, and we saved the box. We never knew exactly what we’d use that box for.

But it turns out, using it for a cat post for little Milo was the perfect second use.

We followed up with the man to find out how Milo liked it. He said he loved it.

Then he laughed, and said Milo might have loved the box even more.

Being a helper.

Meow.

And this is why we Pongo.

Sit. Stay. Eat. Live.
thepongofund.org
The Pongo Fund / Portland, OR

The Pongo Fund

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