'He was a ragbag of breeds, had a googly eye and his fur was patchy... I thought he was gorgeous': Emma Parker Bowles on how rescuing an abandoned dog showed her the healing power of love
I can’t tell you that it was love at first sight, but something happened to my heart when I first saw him cowering in the corner of the kennel, skinny and scared, his white head drooping like a snowdrop. In that moment, my heart broke a little for him.
And not just for him, but for the 130 other dogs facing death at the Devore dog pound, out in the dusty desert of San Bernardino County, California.
These sorrowful souls had been rescued by the authorities from a supposed animal sanctuary called Rainbow’s End.
Emma and Little Moon today: 'I might have saved Little Moon, but he has rescued me right back'
An anonymous tip-off to county animal care officials had resulted in the discovery of around 170 dogs being kept in shocking conditions, squeezed together in a small pen. The dogs were emaciated, horribly neglected and terrified of humans.
Around 40 of them were in such a bad state that they were beyond help and had to be euthanised immediately. The traumatised remainder were removed, one by one, using a ‘catch-pole’ – a wire noose on a stick.
Sadly, the dogs had merely swapped one kind of hell for another: concrete kennels, on what resembled a kind of doggy death row. These desperate animals, who had never known a kind touch, were being kept alive simply as ‘evidence’ while the San Bernardino County district attorney put together a potential prosecution case against Rainbow’s End.
In the same way that Rainbow’s End calling itself an animal sanctuary is at the very least false advertising, the city and county dog pounds being called ‘shelters’ is somewhat wide of the mark.
If you are an animal lover, these soulless pounds are some of the saddest places on earth. As a volunteer for the nonprofit-making US-based organisation Dogs Without Borders (DWB), I have visited countless shelters all over California. And what I saw moved me to tears.
When I moved to California in 2008 I had no idea that such places existed. A friend of mine had adopted her dog from a dog pound in South Central Los Angeles. She recounted the horror stories to me as I cuddled my own beloved rescue dog Wally, who had come to LA with me, and told him how lucky he was to have been taken in by Battersea Dogs & Cats Home before he met me.
But it wasn’t until I popped into Tailwaggers pet shop to buy some bones for Wally – and came out with my first ‘foster dog’ – that I discovered the huge animal rescue community in the Los Angeles area. Through this community, I met my inspiring friend Galit Reuben, who runs DWB.
DWB was founded in 2006 and rescues stray and abandoned dogs from shelters, both locally and as far away as even Mexico and Taiwan.
The organisation relies solely on foster volunteers to temporarily house and care for the rescue dogs until they can be adopted. Every Saturday, DWB holds a doggy adoption fair. The organisation has rehomed more than 3,000 dogs since its inception, and continues to rescue thousands more with the support of donations and volunteers.
How Little Moon looked when Emma rescued him from the dog pound
Fast forward to June 2013, and the Devore dog pound. It was a news article in The Mail on Sunday about Rainbow’s End dog sanctuary that led me there.
A fellow volunteer, Nicole, forwarded me the link. Reading the article, I was incensed. Some of the rescued dogs, especially the puppies, looked to be in reasonable condition; others were a mess. One dog caught my eye because he reminded me so much of my beloved Wally, who had died the year before. This neglected version, however, was a skinny, sad, hairless little thing with sticky-uppy ears and a funny freckled face.
Because of the extent of the behavioural training these feral dogs would need, not to mention costly medical care, they were being released to qualified rescue groups only. If no rescue groups came forward, once the dogs were no longer required as evidence in the Rainbow’s End potential abuse case they would be put down.
I immediately contacted DWB and we rallied the troops. With Galit’s blessing, my friends Linda and Chloe and I drove in a convoy of trucks to San Bernardino, loaded up with as many dog crates as we could manage (the authorities wouldn’t release the dogs without crates).
When we got to Devore and saw the state of the dogs, we each quietly sneaked off for a good cry. It was devastating. Kennel after kennel was stuffed full of malnourished, mangy mutts. Those who still had coats were matted and filthy. Others had such severe mange that they had no fur at all.
However, I took hope from the number of other rescue groups who had already arrived and were getting things done. I pulled myself together and went to look for the Wally lookalike I’d seen in the news article. I finally found him, in the last concrete kennel. ACC274 was the name on his intake sheet. He looked like a ragbag of breeds straight out of the spare-parts bin. There was something cartoonish about him: one of his eyes was googly and pointing in the wrong direction (it turned out to be blind and later had to be removed), his tail was the wrong proportion for his body and his fur was patchy. I thought he was gorgeous.
We rescued nine dogs and the following day I went back to retrieve two more – a rottweiler-mix who my friend Alice agreed to adopt (and named Edward), and Pinkie, so called because he was so bald that his bright pink skin was on display.
We loaded the dogs into our trucks and got them the heck out of there – it felt like a jailbreak! Driving through the desert, knowing the dogs were now safe, was one of the best feelings. As we headed to our vet’s, I thought of the long road that lay ahead for these dogs in learning to trust again.
And I mused on a name for the strange little creature who had captured my heart. He had a luminous, translucent quality to him, and he was shy like a little moon peeping out from behind the trees. So I called him Little Moon.
At the vet’s, Little Moon’s examination had to take place underneath the table with me holding his quaking body.
Apart from being malnourished and covered in mange, we also discovered he was deaf. The vet estimated he was about a year old. All the dogs were examined, and any conditions diagnosed and treated.
When they were declared fit to be taken away, I went home with two: Little Moon and Badger (who I would foster). My own three dogs didn’t bat an eyelid when the new arrivals walked in. My home has long had a revolving door for foster dogs, cats and anything furry or feathered needing shelter, temporary or otherwise.
For the first week, the two dogs huddled together on a shelf in my cupboard, only venturing out to relieve themselves and eat. I would sit near them and read a book while they got used to me. After a few days I felt a cold nose on my neck and realised that Little Moon had come over to give me a sniff. Watching them eat proper food and sleep on comfortable blankets (and eventually my bed) was unbelievably gratifying.
Badger left for a new home after a few weeks, and it was the company of my own dogs that helped Little Moon to heal. All my dogs have been rescued and come from backgrounds of abuse.
Little Moon has been transformed from a skinny and scared rescue dog to a fluffy, friendly part of Emma’s animal family
'Little Moon has his own safe space to sleep,' writes Emma
'It was my alsatian China-Rose that Little Moon really fell in love with. He followed her everywhere and copied everything she did,' says Emma
Flash-Baby taught Little Moon how to play and steal the other dogs’ chews and stash them in secret places. Buddy taught him how to nudge your human for extra attention. But it was my alsatian China-Rose that Little Moon really fell in love with. He followed her everywhere and copied everything she did. China-Rose seemed to understand that he was broken and was endlessly patient with him. Their bond endures to this day.
In 2014 I moved back to the UK, bringing all my dogs with me, to be near my family when I had my baby girl, Olive. A few months after arriving, Little Moon lost the sight in his remaining eye.
The vet referred me to an eye specialist who told me that it would need to be removed. I was devastated for my dog. He had already been through so much. Would it be fair for him to live with deafness and now blindness? The vet and I talked it through and I decided the only thing to do was try. I had to give him a chance.
The vet called me after the operation and told me to get to the surgery immediately because Little Moon was panicking. I arrived to find him panting and thrashing around, and having to be restrained by two veterinary nurses. As soon as I put my arms around him he calmed down. It was in that moment that I realised he trusted me at last.
We took it day by day. It was amazing how quickly he adjusted. Once more, China-Rose stepped in and became his eyes. Little Moon quickly navigated his way through the house, up and down the stairs and around the garden.
I yearned to mollycoddle him, but I had to let him figure it out for himself. There were a couple of times when he ran into things, but blind dogs do a thing called ‘mapping’ where they use their senses to remember and intuit how to avoid things.
Now he comes for walks, off the lead, and tracks us through his sense of smell. I always take familiar routes so he knows where he is going. If you could see him confidently bounding through the fields from a distance you would never know he is blind.
'None of my dogs has had as tough a time as Little Moon, nor handled it with such grace. He inspires me every day and has taught me so much,' says Emma
Little Moon has his own safe space to sleep. He is lying in it right now, next to my desk, snoring happily. He eats home-cooked food and gets plenty of his favourite beef jerky and chews. He enjoys being given baths and brushed. And he loves to have a bear-hug and his chest rubbed.
I might have saved Little Moon, but he has rescued me right back. I owe him, and all my dogs, more than they will ever know. They drown me in their unconditional love. But none of my dogs has had as tough a time as Little Moon, nor handled it with such grace. He inspires me every day and has taught me so much.
Mostly he encourages me to be brave when I am struggling. He shows me that if today is tough, tomorrow will be better, and to just hang in there. Most of all, he has taught me the healing power of love.
For more information and to donate, visit dogswithoutborders.org
