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The Pongo Fund Helping keep pets and people together, during the toughest of times.
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05/09/2025

A sunrise.

A beautiful garden.

The ocean.

A can of Pork & Beans.

Things to remember.

And one we never saw coming.

They arrived for dog food. They brought love in return.

His dog was a super sweet Pibble named Patty. Short for Pattycake. She needed food, they found The Pongo Fund. Simple enough.

They sat down for the few minutes it would take to fill Patty’s food order. When I came back to the table to ask a question, I saw the man eating from a can of Pork & Beans.

He was using a small spoon to eat from the can. And sitting on his leg was Patty’s giant head, waiting for something to fall her way.

The man saw the shocked look on my face and he quickly stopped eating and apologized. He said he would put the food away and finish later. The look he saw, he thought I was upset that he was eating.

It wasn’t that at all. It was the opposite. And that’s why I did not ask him to stop eating, but to keep eating.

He had finally found a place to sit down for a few minutes and rest. Using those minutes to eat was the logical next step for him. He knew that Patty would soon have food, so he thought he would have some food too.

He was a Veteran, and said he had eaten out of many cans in the past. He said his lunch was delicious and eating from the can didn’t change that. I think he was happy to have a few minutes of peace.

I got him some paper towels and a bottle of water, along with some Girl Scout Cookies for dessert. I invited him to take his time and said I was going to get some food ready for Patty.

In another life, Patty would have been the best therapist. Just her face alone was cause for joy. She simply looked happy. And in a world where we do not always find happy, let’s just say that Patty brought me joy.

Her lunch bowl went down on a clean towel that was instantly dirty. The best kind of dirty. Her mouth moved from side to side and then in circles for the finish, as she methodically emptied that bowl so clean that it sparkled. And after that she licked the towel a few times to get every last bit.

And then she sat there looking at me.

And she cried.

When I see a dog crying, I think the worst. Because I’ve seen the worst too many times. In that moment I worried she had a giant bout of GI upset or any number of other things.

The man, he kept eating his Pork & Beans. He heard her because you could not not hear her. But he did not react. I asked him what was wrong with Patty, why she was crying.

He said she wanted a hug.

He said that when she gets extra happy, especially after eating something really delicious, she would sit by her bowl and cry until she got a hug. He said it was her way of saying thank you.

Kind of like Kiss the Chef, that’s what she wanted to do.

I asked him how long she would cry. He said as long as it took me to give her a hug.

I got down next to her, put my arms out and sure enough she wrapped her front paws around my neck and she hugged me, kissing my face at the same time. She cried as she did it.

I cried too.

This dog had no idea of all that she did not have. She only knew what she did have. And for her, she had it all. She was clean and had food and she got to share a sleeping bag at night with the man she loved. You could tell that the man felt the same way.

Their home was at a nearby camp. They were houseless, but not homeless. I don’t mean to sound confusing. But for many, there’s a difference.

There were three other dogs at the camp. All of them spayed and neutered and vaccinated and really happy dogs just like Patty. They were also hungry. The man found The Pongo Fund on a lark, otherwise the other men would have come with him for food for their dogs too.

When they left, their cart was filled with dog food, dog coats, booties and some other goodies. A couple desperately needed sleeping bags for the people too.

He thanked me and said how happy everyone would be at the camp when he returned. He said no one would be expecting all that he was bringing back, and it was going to be the best day for everyone, especially the dogs, since they were going to have a great dinner.

I asked him what the men were going to have for dinner. He said it was the end of the month and money was extra tight so it would be a small dinner.

I didn’t know exactly where their camp was, but I had a general idea. I asked him how far they were from the grocery store at the busy intersection. He said not far, and he would be walking past that store on his way home.

He said they had really good sandwiches there. He said that sometimes the person who made them piled them extra high just to be nice. He said those sandwiches were a rare treat, but they sure were good.

I asked him how many people were at his camp. He said usually five. I put a gift card in his hand for that grocery store and asked him to stop there and get everyone some really good sandwiches for dinner.

Because for The Pongo Fund, keeping the people healthy means they are better able to take care of their animals. If anything happens to the people, those animals have no one else. That's why sometimes we make sure the people have food too. Because no one should go to bed hungry, two-legged or four.

He looked at me with words that weren’t spoken. But I knew what he was saying.

Patty required one more hug before they left.

Turns out, I did too.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

26/08/2025

We didn’t know she was coming.

She was new to her building and mentioned to the manager that she was short on funds and her cat was out of food. The grocery store across the street sometimes sold dented cans for 50 cents but she did not have 50 cents. The manager told her about The Pongo Fund.

She had no transportation, but someone in the building said they would drive her to The Pongo Fund. She was a new neighbor and apparently the other residents were extra kind to the new neighbors.

By good fortune she arrived when we were there. She walked up the ramp slowly, really more shuffling than walking. She got to the door and stood there quietly. We asked her how we could help. She shared her story. The help she needed was for far more than cat food. But cat food we had.

She came inside and sat down so we could get more information. She had rosy cheeks and bobby pins in her hair. Her dress had stains. Her shoes were more slippers than shoes. I sat across from her as the others there continued to pack kibble.

This woman was tired. She had just completed a move, she had no money, and we could tell it took every bit of energy for her to walk to our door. But she needed cat food, so she found a way.

She made a joke and as I laughed my head dropped a bit. That’s when I saw her legs. Just the lower parts, but what I saw was not meant to be seen. The Pongo Fund is a pet food bank, but in that moment, nothing we could do would be enough.

She saw her lower legs about the same time I did.

She said she had left her building in a hurry to not miss the ride from a neighbor. She did not have time to wrap her legs, which she always did when she went out. She had forgotten until she sat down across from me. Her lower legs, there was nowhere for them to hide. She said she was sorry she had not wrapped them.

I looked at her with the biggest smile I could smile, and I told her The Pongo Fund did not have any requirements about wrapping legs before entry. She made another joke. I could tell she’d been there before.

Then the conversation turned back to cat food. She said her cat Morris loved anything in his bowl. So anything we could share, she knew Morris would love it.

We got the cat food together. We laid it out on the table as we always do, so she could see everything she was getting. I held up each can to show her what it was. With every can, she said, oh he’s going to love that.

She had only one question. Could she come back again?

I told we had a better plan.

A few days later I talked with the building manager. She told me she had only been there a short time. Apparently there had been some office turmoil and jobs were reshuffled. That happens a lot. But when it does, little things fall along the wayside.

Little things. Like the food closet.

It was a little closet just off the lobby. It was their building’s food bank. It was kind of like a mini-fridge in a fancy hotel. Just no Bourbon or dry roast peanuts. It was stocked with whatever they could stock it with. Let’s just say it was a wide array. It was quietly run by one of the previous managers, and this new manager had not yet learned all of the details.

She said she didn’t know who paid for the food, and that was a big deal.

I knew about that food closet since this was a building The Pongo Fund had been helping on and off for many years. The food closet had gone through several ups and downs over the years. So even though I didn’t know all the details, I knew some.

And I knew that the gift card I was going to place in her hand was going to help get things back on track. The gift card came from a woman who wasn’t going to use it. Her only request was to use it for something different.

This was different.

These were hard luck people who lived there. The list of what they needed was long. Yet their list of complaints was zero.

The manager asked what she should buy. I told her there used to be a list on the wall where people would write down things they thought others would enjoy.

It wasn’t Dean and Deluca.

It some ways, it was better.

Because if you were craving a can of green beans, and you did not have 99 cents for that can of green beans, but you found them in the food closet, then you knew you were in for a treat.

The only advice I gave to the building manager was to not buy any pet food. She looked at me shocked, since she already knew how many people had pets. She said pet food was at the top of her list.
I told it was at the top of my list too, and we would have the food closet restocked within a few days.

The woman with bad legs, now she only needs to walk to the lobby for cat food for Morris. Whether she wraps her legs or not doesn’t matter. That Morris has dinner, that’s what matters.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

23/08/2025

She was almost out of cat food.

She had been hospitalized, and that's why she forgot to buy more. She said sometimes when she leaves the hospital she’s so happy to be going home to see Henrietta that she forgets other things.

Like cat food.

She said she was at the store a few days ago and she would have bought cat food but thought she still had plenty. She used her last dollars to buy a fan instead. Because the Portland weather forecast was for a stretch of extra hot weather and having a fan helped.

She lived in a small trailer. And her last fan broke.

She is 82. Her cat is 20.

Her cat’s name is Henrietta.

The woman was a happy woman. Even when she had many things in her life that others would not necessarily consider happy, she was still a happy woman. She felt she had many Blessings and that’s how she lived.

Being Grateful.

Henrietta was not picky. But if she had a choice, she enjoyed stew more than pate. And lately she had been enjoying chicken and turkey more than seafood. But she said, for anything we could share, even if just a can or two, they would both be grateful.

We talked about the weather for a moment. She said she didn’t have air conditioning but she felt very lucky to have a new fan. I told her I didn’t have air conditioning either. And we commiserated talking about how most people don’t have air conditioning so we were in good company.

She asked how hot it was where I lived.

I told her my house was 85 inside.

Without skipping a beat, the entire conversation shifted. She said oh my goodness that’s way too hot. And that I should come to her trailer and sit in front of the fan with her and Henrietta and have a glass of iced tea.

The whole conversation about cat food somehow disappeared. For some reason, when she learned how hot my house was, the only thing she could think of was to invite me over to share the breeze of her new fan. There was no deep thinking involved, just pure kindness.

She wanted to share her fan, to share the comfort that she and Henrietta were feeling.

I had to stop for a second. I told her I needed to check on my dog and put the phone down for a second. I was stunned.

I didn’t really need to check on my dog.

I needed to check on myself.

I picked the phone up again and thanked her for such a special invitation. I asked her about her fan and she talked about it like it was the best fan in the world. And I thought to myself how happy that fan must have been, to know how much it was appreciated by this 82-year-old woman and her 20-year-old cat.

I told her I had a fan too. And that my little dog and I liked sitting in front of it.

She said she felt better knowing that. I was still welcome to come for iced tea. I thanked her.

The Pongo Fund has a friend who works with seniors. She always said to let her know when she could help. We let her know. She delivered the cat food for Henrietta the next day.

When I asked her how it went, she talked about what a special woman this was. She described her as extra happy and she said Henrietta was pretty much the best cat she’d ever met.

She said after she delivered the cat food, she returned again with some food for the woman, because she could tell she was running low. And she said she bought her a fan too. I was like what, you bought her a fan. Didn’t she have a fan?

She said she did indeed have a fan. And it was tiny, like a little 4” desktop fan. Not nearly enough to do any good. So she bought her a large oscillating fan to better cool the trailer.

I was just left stammering to myself. This woman had this little tiny fan and the first chance she had, she was offering to share its breeze with me because she thought I would enjoy it.

I don’t even know what to say.

Maybe the words I’m looking for are Grateful and Blessings.

Because those are good words to always keep close.

And just so you know, Lola and I have several fans. We really don’t have AC and it really was 85 inside and it’s no fun. But Lola gets lots of cold water rinses and we make it work.

For Grateful and Blessings.

And for Henrietta and the woman who loves her.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

These are some of the 75 volunteers who gave their time during July, helping us help others. Kibble Packers. Kibble Prep...
19/08/2025

These are some of the 75 volunteers who gave their time during July, helping us help others.

Kibble Packers. Kibble Preppers. Kibble Boxers. Kibble Dancers. Inside Distribution Team. Outside Distribution Team. Kibble Kids. Kibble Couriers. The list goes on.

The part about Kibble Dancers. I made that up.

We don’t really have a Kibble Dancers Team.

Except for that one time, when two of our Kibble Packers were so happy after finally getting their first chance to Pongo that they broke into a spontaneous Kibble Dance.

It didn’t last long because there was more kibble to pack. But it was a lot of fun.

Those who share their time Pongoing spend most of it standing on a hard concrete floor. Sometimes in freezing cold. Sometimes in boiling hot.

It’s not glamorous.

But yet, most of the time they do it again and again. The Pongo Fund is lucky like that. Because the work is not easy.

So when you read my words please know it's a lot more than just me. I'm just part of the team. You are part of that team too.

A team of special folks where no one ever steps forward to shine a spotlight on themselves to say they helped. They just simply help.

Because that’s the kind of people they are.

And I am so very lucky, to be so Blessed.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

19/08/2025

This guy was too nice.

Even better, he sounded like Sam Elliott.

He called for cat food. But he had it backwards. He said he wanted to donate cat food. It took a few seconds to realize he was asking for a donation of cat food, not wanting to donate cat food.

He needed it for his 21-year-old cat.

Had him since a kitten. His name was Joe.

Joe DiMaggio.

The man had been hospitalized and while he was gone the person feeding his cat ran out of cat food. It happened every month but normally the next Social Security $900 would arrive and keep things on track. But the hospital visit had some extra expenses paid in cash, so that messed up the plan. And while he was happy to be home, he was mostly worried about Joe.

We asked him where he lived and when he reeled off the address my heart sank. I knew where it was. It’s where no one should be. An old stretch of road that had long been forgotten except for the few folks who lived there in trailers and sheds with extension cords. It was a real life Andrew Wyeth painting. The common thread was that everyone had the same blue tarps on their roof.

But here’s the good news.

The Pongo Fund provided cat food to a food bank just blocks from where this man lived. Literally minutes away. We had just gotten them restocked. It was a busy place but we knew they could help him and they would be open again the next day.

I gave him the good news and he could not have been more kind in his response. He could get food for Joe DiMaggio, and from a place just minutes away. He really appreciated the information.

But…

Was there anything sooner? And closer?

When it comes to The Pongo Fund, we seldom find perfect. But for this man and his 21-year-old cat named Joe, we thought we had a perfect plan.

I was wrong.

He explained in the kindest voice, that they had just opened the last can of cat food. It was the 3 ounce size. How do I know that? Because that’s the kind of stuff I know. One more reason I don’t get invited to dinner parties. Hey Larry, let’s talk about cat food. How many cans did The Pongo Fund give out last week?

Said no one ever…

So it turned out this kind man would very much appreciate finding cat food ASAP since they did not have any for Joe DiMaggio’s breakfast. By chance, could I suggest a food bank still open that night. A food bank that was also very close to him since he would need to take the bus.

The food bank I mentioned was really close. He could walk there quicker than the bus. And it would be open the next day.

Then life got in the way again.

He had just lost his leg.

He was not supposed to be out walking yet.

We’re minutes into this call that just kept getting worse, but for some reason the man kept getting nicer. He split his time between talking to Joe who was purring in the background, and talking to me about more cat food.

I thought ok, we’ll get someone to his house early in the morning with cat food, enough to last the month. Hopefully he would not need to make this call again.

I told him the plan, wanted to make sure it was ok for him and Joe. We’d have food there in the morning and he told me how grateful he was for that. He said Joe DiMaggio was grateful too. He asked if I could hear him purr. I told him yes.

And then just as the call should have ended, I heard this man tell Joe DiMaggio that he could go ahead and lick the plate clean, since they were out of bread. I want to tell you I didn’t know what he meant. But I did.

Because I’ve been doing this work for 18 years now. And we’d been there before.

It wasn’t just Joe DiMaggio that was out of food. The man was out of food too. His dinner was the gravy left from Joe’s dinner. Sopped up with a hunk of bread that he did not have.

My heart. It breaks every day…

We asked the man one question.

Did he have a working refrigerator?

He said he did.

A few minutes later we were on the way.

Thank you to each one of you who stands here with us.

We simply could not do this work without you.

Here’s to you, Joe DiMaggio.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

06/08/2025

She was 77. She wasn’t sure.

She said it had been a while since anyone asked.

She said things like birthdays were no longer much use to her. She didn’t hate them. She just didn’t hold tight to them. She said she was the age she was, whatever that was. Maybe it was 80, maybe it was 75.

She thought it was 77 so we went with that.

And we only knew that because it was a question we ask of those we help. It helps us know where we are. And right now, the majority of those we help are seniors. Many of them well into their 70’s and beyond. The oldest in her 90’s.

But while this sweet woman didn’t know exactly how old she was, she knew exactly how old her dog was.

He was going to be 14.

They lived in their car near a small home village. If you don’t know what a small home village is, let’s just say, it’s not a group of small villas overlooking the Mediterranean. But it’s something better than nothing and they stayed near one of those villages.

That particular village was full, but they stayed nearby. More safety in numbers. She was also able to access some of their services, such as dog food from The Pongo Fund. That’s how she knew us.

She’d been homeless for a while. Not exactly sure how long, but awhile. Just to set the record straight, this woman had her faculties. She just did not get caught up in what she felt were unimportant details. Her age was one of them. How long she’d been homeless didn’t matter either. But she said it wouldn’t be forever.

She was a glorious woman. A shining star. She was your Mom. Your Grandmother. Despite it all, she had such a positive outlook. Most of all, about her dog.

She said he was her entire life.

And that’s why she called.

His birthday.

He loved the Pongo food we provided. He’d been enjoying it for quite some time. She said he was the kind of guy who didn’t care about birthdays or presents or anything of the sort. Just give him an extra kibble and a belly rub and he’d be thrilled.

But if there was a chance, did The Pongo Fund maybe have an extra toy for him?

He loved soft and plushy. Nothing too big, just something he could keep close to him as he slept. He liked to have things close to him.
He also liked to carry things in his mouth. His last toy had worn out and needed to be replaced. It was a little duck or something like that. But there was no money for a new toy.

In the past he’d had little plushy trucks and dinosaurs and fish and fuzzy puppies and a really soft little lamb that he sometimes held in his mouth and fell asleep with next to his face.

Did The Pongo Fund maybe have an extra of anything like that?

If we did, she said, and only if no one else needed it more, could we maybe share it with her so she could wrap it up and give to him for his birthday?

She was 77 years old and living in her car with her dog about to turn 14. And with all of the things she could use, she was looking most of all for a little plushy toy for her dog’s upcoming birthday.

She would wrap it up and watch as he would gently tear the paper off and with that, they would celebrate together.

No fancy dinners out. No shopping sprees. No binge watching Netflix. They would simply sit together and talk about life and play with that toy until they fell asleep in the back seat.

And for that they would both be grateful.

We had toys. Plenty of them. We don’t focus on toys. But we have toys. And they are toys with stories to tell. Best of all, they are toys looking for new friends, just as much as new friends are looking for them.

The Pongo Fund is a Pet Food Bank.

But sometimes, maybe a little bit more.

We’re happy to report that this sweet boy celebrated his birthday with a soft plushy that he loved. And all the other dogs at the small home village got soft plushies too. Because that’s the way to celebrate. With friends.

There were some other little gifts too, because that’s how we do it. You know that by now. But maybe nothing was as perfect as the plushies.

We look forward to celebrating this sweet guy’s next birthday with another soft plushie. But most of all, we hope they are no longer at the small home village. She said it’s a nice place, and she meant that, but her hope for his next birthday, was that they have a place of their own. That was the dream.

A few days after the birthday, we helped connect them with a caseworker who would do her best to help make that dream a reality.

As the saying goes, “The things we take for granted, someone else is praying for.”

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

03/08/2025

She called about rehoming her dog. He liked to play and sleep and lounge on laps. He was a very good boy.

Her husband died. She was struggling. She and her son were going to be making some tough decisions and giving up their dog was one of them.

Her son was 9.

She said the dog would also come with his bed, all his toys, and an almost full bag of food. She said the bed was brand new, they had just bought it a few weeks earlier but it had not yet been used. She described it in detail. It was a fancy bed. It was a splurge gift. Mom, Dad and their son, they all chipped in to make it happen.

They bought the bed and they waited for their dog’s birthday, that’s when they were going to give it to him. She wanted us to know that whoever adopted their dog would also get the bed, all the toys, and the food.

They loved their dog but she knew they would not be able to afford more food or vet care. All of the basics together were going to be too much.

They had an appointment at the shelter for the next month. She was looking for a backup plan if that didn’t work out. Someone told her about The Pongo Fund. We would be her number 2.

A couple weeks later a caseworker called The Pongo Fund. She said one of her kids was having a really hard time. His Dad had died and his Mom was struggling. And now they were going to be rehoming their dog.

The little boy told her he felt like he was losing everything.

She told us that little boys should not feel like they were losing everything.

The caseworker told us this small family was being held together by a thread. She said she was working hard to keep them from totally unravelling.

We didn’t know it at first, but then we did. It was the same family.

When Mom called The Pongo Fund, she didn’t know we were a Pet Food Bank. And that our entire work is centered on keeping pets and people together during the toughest of times. But her son’s caseworker knew because she read the memo all the caseworkers got. That’s why she called.

The Mom was reluctant to receive charity, so the caseworker would need to craft another plan. If she did, could The Pongo Fund help?

Yes, we could absolutely help.

Luckily, it's not a complicated plan. The caseworker picks up food from one of our satellite sites. The food always has a different dog’s name on it, making it appear random. That’s done intentionally. The caseworker then asks the Mom if they could use a small bag of food that she received as extra. The caseworker doesn’t have a dog, but she has the food.

Could the Mom use it?

And wouldn’t you know it, every single time, Mom says yes.

It's been a few months. The caseworker told us the little boy is doing much better. He no longer feels like he’s losing everything because they still have their dog. And they have food. And thanks to more good luck, they have access to vet care if needed.

The little boy said it was a Miracle.

The dog just had his birthday. They had a party. Maybe The Pongo Fund helped with that. Maybe the caseworker did too.

The little dog loved his bed.

Best of all, he’s going to be home forever, and not in a shelter.

Maybe that’s the best birthday gift of all.

Keeping pets and people together during the toughest of times.

And this is why we Pongo.

(PS: To all the caseworkers making Miracles happen, we thank you.)

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

01/08/2025

Because sometimes when you don’t say goodbye,
goodbye says goodbye for you.

Those are the worst times.

He never came home.

Home was a small field where six sober men lived.

They had no dogs, until the last man showed up.

He had a little guy in tow. A small Chihuahua. Think Chihuahua. Then think smaller.

The man showed up and asked if he could stay. They told him the rules. He accepted them as a Blessing. The dog was a Blessing too.

The man and dog had found each other a few weeks earlier. No tags. No microchip. No pictures on any websites.

The dog was unneutered.

The man learned of a vet about a mile away. They offered a low-cost neuter and he set out to raise the money. Neuter, vaccinations, microchip. The full enchilada, that’s what this dog was to receive.

Then the man left one morning and did not return. He left so early that no one had a chance to say goodbye. Goodbye said goodbye for them.

But the dog was still there, sound asleep just like always.

I knew these men because they used to have a dog. The Pongo Fund helped take care of that dog. The man with the dog moved away, but The Pongo Fund continued to check in on the other men.

Every few weeks we would bring lunch, and together we would sit near the freeway eating sandwiches. It might not make sense, but it was pretty nice.

The men decided they would continue caring for this little dog. They would also get him neutered. But they did not have any money saved for the neuter, so they were starting from scratch.

They did not know how long it would take, but they would do what they could do.

The thing was, they did not want any help. Each one of those men had been let down, or they had let someone down. They no longer relied on others.

The Pongo Fund could not pay for the neuter. That was their rule.

They were about $100 short.

These were nice guys. Really nice. They deserved the best life had to offer. Their self imposed exile was something they had come to terms with. We just shared sandwiches every now and then. There was no need to judge or second guess. Or worst of all, to try and rationalize.

But they had foxtails. Lots of them.

We explained the dangers of foxtails. None of them knew about them, most people don’t. Until you learn the hard way. And we didn’t want foxtails to happen to their little Chihuahua buddy.

Clearing the foxtails would take a lot of time. Many hours, especially by hand.

I offered them $100 to clear the foxtails. Not to just make it safer for their little Chihuahua, but for any other dog or cat or animal that might end up in that field. I was asking them to do it as a community service. The money was for them to buy gloves, water, whatever they needed.

I also happened to have some gloves I’d picked up at a local store. Extra gloves. Maybe they could use them to pull the foxtails.

And then maybe they could use the $100 to finish paying for the neuter.

I was being sneaky. Or I thought I was being sneaky.

So much for that plan.

They figured out pretty fast what I was trying to do. To get them to use the $100 to get the dog neutered. They said no thank you.

They cleared the foxtails anyway. It took many hours. I was amazed.

A week or so later I finally told them that I needed to help, I didn’t want them to miss the chance to get the dog vaccinated and neutered. I told them I wanted to pay for the neuter.

They said no.

They said no because they didn’t want to let me down.

They worried that they might miss the appointment. They didn’t want a ride or a wake up call or anything of the sort. As they said, it’s just that things happen when you live in a field. And they didn’t want the responsibility of something getting in the way and them not showing up. They didn’t want to do that to the veterinarian, or to The Pongo Fund.

As I said before, these were really nice guys. They made their point.
They would get there when they had the rest of the money. The next $100.

And they would do it on their terms.

The thing is, they made total sense. We all want to be independent. They did too.

We found a middle ground.

If I gave them $100, that $100 would give them enough money to get the dog neutered. But I had to give it to them. Not to the vet. I needed to trust them. That’s what they said.

What they didn’t know, is that I’d been trusting them for a long time already.

They didn’t have a day picked for the neuter, but they would get it scheduled. They had a wagon so they could wheel their little buddy to and fro. The only thing was, I had to agree not to keep checking on them as to when it would get done.

Agreed.

I gave them the $100.

A few weeks later I stopped by.

The little dog was neutered and vaccinated and microchipped. He had a really cool collar with name tags, and one of them had The Pongo Fund phone number on it as a backup. He also wore a St. Francis medallion for eternal protection.

The men are all gone now, their campsite became too busy from others who were not sober. The six men left. The six men, and the little dog. We didn’t talk about where they were going, only where they’d been.

I’m thankful we had a chance to say goodbye.

I know we’ll run into them again. Not sure where or when. I just know…

If you read all of these words, I thank you. That was really kind of you to do.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

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