The Pongo Fund (2025)

05/07/2025

He asked if we could babysit his dog.

From 8-12, that was the request.

More specifically, could we care for his dog from 8pm – 12am. For a few nights only, that was the help he needed. Because he feared his dog was going to die, and he didn’t want him to die alone. Previous vet visits had raised some concerns, and the man was doing his best to keep his friend comfortable.

He worked nights, this proud septuagenarian, who was working to pay off his wife’s funeral expenses. Missing one night of work could mean losing their apartment, that’s how tight the dollars were. It wasn’t a fancy apartment and it wasn’t a fancy job, but he couldn't afford to lose either.

His dog was an old guy. We’ll call him BoBo.

One eye worked, one didn’t. Some aches and pains and all the normal things that come with being 16, maybe 17, maybe 18. They never knew for sure. Didn’t matter. They went by love, not age. And for this little guy, love was all he knew.

That’s why the man called us for help. Because he knew we would love his little BoBo too. He knew he couldn't turn back time. He just didn't want BoBo to be alone.

He called The Pongo Fund because several years earlier we had helped them many times with food. He remembered the difference we made and thought we might have some suggestions.

The thing is, we’re not a day care or night care or anything like that. But the stars aligned and someone said yes, they would do the late-night shift.

Not only was the timing good, so was the geography. These two souls lived not far from one another. One who loved his dog. The other, the proxy. Double the love for one little dog.

The first night when the man called to get BoBo, he learned that he was completely zonked out. That wasn’t normal. For the last several nights, BoBo had struggled to sleep. He groaned all night.

The man knew the dog had a broken heart having just lost his Mom. The man and the dog shared that same broken heart. But all that groaning, the man knew there was something more. And now he learned the dog was sound asleep. And snoring. They agreed to move the pickup to the next morning.

He was especially shocked to learn the little guy had enjoyed a late night snack. He had not been showing much interest in food, and then suddenly, he's eating fourth meals!

The next night they were at it again, meeting just before 8pm. The man once again shared his concerns about his dog’s overall health. The heart murmur, the wonky bloodwork, the groaning all night. His worry was fair. We all worry about our friends. And yet again, the little guy slept like a rock.

I won’t tell you about the third night.

But happily it was more of the same.

Sound asleep with a symphony of snores.

Somehow this little dog, with all that was going on, wasn’t ready to say goodbye. The story was not so simple, but for now, let’s make it simple. The dog, with a little bit of help, still had plenty of life.

The overnight plan kept on for several nights. Then some changes were made to the man’s schedule, and the overnights were no longer needed.

The man, the dog, and the woman who provided respite care, all stayed in touch. Because she fell in love with that little dog too.

And that led to one more step. The man’s terrible fear of what would happen to BoBo if anything happened to him. He doesn’t worry about that anymore.

Because the woman who said yes once, said yes again. BoBo could most certainly stay with her, if the time ever came.

It's been several weeks and BoBo is doing great. Even the fourth meals are still part of the plan. Just a teeny tiny late night snack compliments of The Pongo Fund.

It's a special food that we use for special cases.

And BoBo loves it!

Serendipity.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

12/06/2025

Gizmo the kitty died. He was 16.

He was also Porkchop and Billy and Tiny and Binx and a hundred other names. We’re not sure if he crossed The Rainbow Bridge or if he decided to stay closer to home. That’s where we met him. At his home. He just didn’t know it yet.

Or maybe he did.

We got the call from a woman who said there was a tiny kitten under her house. She said he’d been there for a few days and he was really loud. She said no matter what she did he would not budge. She asked The Pongo Fund if we would go underneath the house and rescue the kitten.

The Pongo Fund was just a puppy then. We were still trying to find our place and we said yes to just about anything we could do to make a difference. But we weren't excited about the chance to crawl underneath her house to rescue this kitten. Plus we knew there were others far more skilled than we were.

She asked, do you have any crates? Yes, we did.

She asked, do you have any blankets? Yes, we did.

She asked, do you have a car? Yes, we did.

Then she said, so what’s taking you so long to get here. You’ve got everything you need to get this done. She said it as a statement, not a question.

Then the kicker.

She said she was just a little old lady.

Then as an extra zinger, she asked if we needed her to crawl underneath her house to show us how to rescue a cat. She didn’t say it to shame us.

Then again, maybe she did.

Two of us showed up to that call. It was sloppy weather. And yes, the little kitten was there. Just far enough away to not be easy to reach. We crawled through muck. The cat never even tried to get away. He was covered in mud, just a lot of slop. We learned later he had a pretty nasty leg fracture, and was in a lot of pain.

As soon as we got ourselves back out, the woman put her face right up tight to the crate door and started talking to him. She told him that she was glad he picked her house for shelter.

The other volunteer with me was a total cat person and took the cat to his vet for care. That’s when we learned about the leg fracture and a few other things. The vet said it would not be unreasonable to euthanize the kitten, based on his overall poor condition. Our volunteer said no, let’s give it a try to save his life.

And they did.

He stayed with our volunteer for a while to recover. He was the life of the party, this little guy. Then out of the blue, the woman who called us initially, the one who called herself just a little old lady, called to find out how he was. We gave her the update, and she asked if we could bring him by so she could say hi.

She made clear she was not able to adopt him, just too many things in her life then that would not let that be possible. But she said she knew a good cat when she saw one, and that he was a good cat. She just wanted to see him again, now that he was feeling better.

They went inside and the kitten and the lady gushed over each other, with lots pf purrs and mews and I love yous shared.

A few days later, she called again.

And that’s when little Gizmo went home to his new home that was actually his old home. Only this time, he was inside the house, not under it.

Over the years he somehow managed to get loose twice. Both times, he ended up in the same place as when we met him. Only this time he was full of kitty sass and he just laid there and made himself comfortable. But he knew where the food bowl was, and both times he only stayed under the house for a little while before he made his way back inside.

Each time the woman said they had a long talk about it not being ok to scare her like that. She probably told him that same story, that she was just a little old lady. Which technically was true, but it was the way she said it, with added flair.

Over the years she became a devoted foster Mom for several cats, all of which decided that her home was where they would stay. She said she really didn’t do anything special, that it was the kitties that deserved all the credit.

She made a donation to The Pongo Fund in memory of Gizmo. I called to thank her. I told her I was matching her donation so that it would go twice as far.

Then she said, “I loved him a lot. And I will sure miss him a lot.”

We know…

In loving memory of Gizmo.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

10/06/2025

It’s been 34 days since my last Facebook post. That's too long.

She said her cat got in a fight and needed vet care. She was calling The Pongo Fund to pay for the care. We asked her what care was needed? Said she didn’t know, she hadn’t been to the vet yet. We asked when the cat got into the fight. She said about a week earlier.

Our volunteer tried to confirm the details. The cat got into a fight a week earlier, but she hadn’t been to the vet yet, and she was calling The Pongo Fund to pay for whatever was needed. Was that right?

The caller said yes, that was about right.

Our volunteer asked her what she thought would be needed. She said wound cleaning, sutures, antibiotics, and probably a follow up visit. The cat might also need some intravenous medication since there was an active infection. Our volunteer said that was fairly specific, and asked her how she knew all that without having gone to the vet.

“Because it’s the third time this year he’s been in a fight and that’s what he needed the other two times.”

Welcome to The Pongo Fund. Where every call seems to hurt a little bit more.

But wait, we’re not done with this one yet.

It turns out the caller lived several hundred miles away. Someone told her The Pongo Fund would pay her bill, she just needed to call us. We explained it’s not quite like that. And so it goes...

We asked where she went for care for the last two vet visits, after her cat’s last two fights.

She quickly said that he’d had more than two other fights this year, and that he normally won them. She seemed proud as she said that. But the other two fights when he needed vet care were the fights he lost. And she said she couldn’t go back to those vets again because the bills were paid for by other groups and they would not help her anymore.

We asked, why would those groups not help her anymore?

She said because she kept forgetting to get her cat neutered.

Read that again:
She kept forgetting to get her cat neutered.

She knew that getting him neutered would keep him out of so many fights, and she knew that keeping him indoors would keep him safe. But she said her cat liked to “get it on” with the female cats and she didn’t want to deprive him of that pleasure.

There was more to that call but for now we’ll leave it there.

Because it was just one more call to The Pongo Fund.

Here’s another:

A woman had six puppies and she called for food, vaccinations, deworming, toys, beds and really nice small crates. It was a long list, but she spoke without pause.

A long list for sure. But did you notice what she didn’t ask for?

She was one state away but said she would come to The Pongo Fund to have everything done. She knew they would need to spend the night, and she wanted to make sure we would give them a motel voucher and pay for their dinner.

What?

We had several questions, but the first one we asked was why did she need toys, beds and, as she called it, really nice crates.

She said she could sell her puppies for more money if she included toys, beds and really nice crates. She said it made her look more responsible and that brought more money.

If you’re still reading along, it was spay and neuter that she didn’t ask for.

Yep. That was another call.

Two more, out of a few hundred.

Don’t worry. There were good calls too.

So many good calls.

But the point of this FB post isn’t to judge. Because we never know what those calls are going to be. Just some of them are harder to understand than others.

Like the woman asking for beds and really nice crates for free so she could sell her puppies for more money. For her, that was just a normal call to make. Oh my goodness...

Here’s my point, or at least, here’s the point I’m trying to make.

It’s been 34 days since my last FB post. That’s a long time. And it’s my fault because I told you I wouldn’t have any more of these long gaps between posts. You have been more than patient with me, and yet I did it again. And I apologize. Yet I know those words aren’t enough.

It’s not as if I lost the ability to write. There were so many times I would sit down to write but the words went another direction.

Even now, with my fingers on the keyboard, I’m still thinking about the woman who called The Pongo Fund while sitting in the parking lot waiting for her appointment to go inside and surrender her dog. He was 18. She said she had no hope left. Not a single ounce of it.
Yet she made one more call.

I’ll tell you more about that one another time. But yes, The Pongo Fund helped. Because that’s what we try to do.

In terms of these past five weeks without a FB post, thank you to those of you who have been in touch to make sure everything is ok.

It is.

At least, as ok as it can be, when you work in a world filled with phone calls that bring moments of life that are not always easy to understand.

But still we find Blessings.

Lovey is doing great. Tougaloo is doing great. Henry and Walter are doing great. Flower just turned 18. Simba with the four murmur that turned out to be just a two is still rocking and rolling. Finley is still the goofiest. Cooper still farts too much but he has really good stool. Turns out Binx really is a lap cat. Robert is now teaching his brother how to run with just three legs. Jack who said he would die of a broken heart if he had to rehome his 15 year old cat Luna, didn’t die after all, since we helped him find a way to keep Luna. Belle is still Belle, totally hogging the bed. Peanut will soon be 19, that’s 5 years longer than anyone thought. Gracie continues to be the best foster failure. Billy Bob with the broken leg is back to his old shenanigans. Lucy with the amputated tail doesn’t even miss it. All the food deliveries that have come in thanks to your donations. And dozens of kibble packers, giving their time to pack all that kibble for so many hungry dogs and cats. Blessings!

We have so much to be thankful for. And my words above, please know they are not complaints. They are just different kinds of Blessings, that we are lucky enough to be part of.

It's just that, along the way, sometimes my words get lost. And I struggle to share them. This time, for the past 34 days.

I’m sorry for that. I truly am.

And I will do better.

The woman whose cat lost his third fight this year. We connected her to some cat people in her community that she did not know about. Her cat is now neutered. And indoors only.

The woman who asked for pretty much everything so she could sell her puppies for more money. Everything except spay and neuter, that is. Those puppies are safe. She never got the crates or the beds or the toys or any of it. But those puppies did get spayed and neutered and are doing fantastic. And none of them were sold. Momma got spayed too. Because after three litters, she deserved a break.

The woman who called from the parking lot, the one with the 18 year old dog. They’re still together. Turned out things weren’t as hopeless as she thought they were.

I know this is not the kind of post you might have expected after five weeks. You deserved better than this one. But this one, it’s all I’ve got.

Thank you for reading.

I’ll be back with more words again soon.

Being a Helper.

And this is why we Pongo.

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

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.
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The Pongo Fund

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