The puppymill had at last been shut down and as the weary animal control officers returned to the shelter, their vehicles full of pitiful dobermans, we rescuers just sat and shook our heads sadly as one after another was led to shelter and the first decent meal they'd had in their entire lives. The last officer to come in did not lead his dog but carried the small, shriveled up bundle in his arms. His little head hung over to the side. He was too weak, too emaciated, too dehydrated to raise his head. He couldn't stand but crumpled into a small heap. And then we saw why. A rubberband had been so tightly wound around his small muzzle that it had cut deeply into the flesh all the way down to the bone, his little wounds were raw and painful . The poor fellow had not been able to open his mouth to either eat or drink for who knows how long. The vet tech quickly got fluids into him. I silently promised him I'd find him the best, most loving home in all the world. A family so kind and so compassionate that he'd never again endure a moment where he was not basking in love. Stanley quickly blossomed into the most enchanting puppy ever. He played happily with the other dogs here and cuddled with the cats. But there was always something that set Stanley apart from the others. A special softness, a special wisdom, a special spark. His mission was to love everyone he met and to nurture those he felt needed special attention. We had one rescue rottweiler who was afraid to go down stairs. Time and time again Stanley would stop in the middle of playing with the others to go upstairs and try to show her how to get down. And over and over she would refuse. And Stanley, never one to give up would gently lean against her to try to support her down the stairs. We kept our promise to Stanley. He found a miracle family whose love, gentleness, wisdom and understanding matched his own. Before long Stanley had a little human brother, Cameron, to raise, to nurture, to teach how to go down stairs, to keep safe and to cherish. Stanley left all who loved him far too soon, the victim of a genetic heart condition common to dobermans who have been overbred by unscrupulous puppy mills. But his legacy remains, Stanley will never be forgotten by anyone whose path he crossed, even for the briefest of moments. His tender heart touched everyone and brought out the very best in them. He was definitely one in a million. How very lucky we are for having our lives so enriched by having known him...
Gifts in memory of Stanley have lovingly been donated by
