Pet Tales & Contact Info

Pet Rescue Works

By Shirley Johnson aka KingsMom

On December 7, 1996 , a little boy puppy stole my heart. He was unlike any other. He was unique in all aspects. He crawled into my soul and made his place there. His name, King, fit him perfectly.

King was one of the lucky mutts. He was a rescued pet, saved from euthanasia or worse, target practice. He was loved from his first moment with us. He won hearts worldwide with his antics and gentle nature. To know King is to experience King.

He gave me a life I never imagined. He taught me that it was okay to be strong and gentle at the same time.

I believe if King could tell you his thoughts it would be along these lines: Embrace those you love with complete abandon. Always let people know how much you love them despite themselves. Live large! Dance, you should always dance.

King lives in the hearts of those he touches. My life is forever richer as I carry the paw print of my gentle giant in the center of my soul.

King, I celebrate you and the way you taught us to live. You will continue to guide me in this journey of life.

Callie Gray and the stormy night

By Charles A. Brown

Callie Gray was a Black Lab and our next-door neighbor. She was an absolute character as many Black Labs can be, but she was terrified of thunder. That fear makes this story what it is.

Callie would occasionally bolt through a door held slightly ajar, stopping at the edge of the yard to look back as if to say, “SEE YA!” Then she would be gone for a roam around the neighborhood. You could call her ‘till your voice gave out, she was coming home in her own good time.

This particular evening she was gone so long that Tommy gave up. He shut things down for the night and fell into bed after a long day. Unknown to Callie, thunderstorms were brewing here in Oklahoma and they began marching through about three in the morning. Callie must have been terrified!

I’m sure she came home to find the house dark, the gate locked and the same at our house. It started raining to beat the band and the thunder was almost continuous. It was so intense it awoke Shirley and me. Of course, we didn’t know of Callie’s plight.

The next morning, Tommy started out to get the newspaper and there was Callie, soaking wet, cowering in the corner of the porch where the rain couldn’t hit her, with a wooden coat hanger around her neck. “What in the world have you done this time?” he asked himself.

It was later that day, because the neighborhood wives had spoken with each other, that Tom learned the events of the early morning. And here they are:

Our neighbors across the street have always had small dogs. They have one of those small pet-doors in the outside door of the utility room and they don’t have a fence. Their dogs have always stayed close to the house, not inclined to roam like Miss Callie.

Well, on this dark-and-stormy-night, a terrified Callie managed to squeeze her muscular Lab body through that little door to their utility room. I’ll bet you couldn’t push her through it with a bulldozer any other time, but on this night it was a necessity for her!

The next thing was she leapt into bed with Dick! It was three in the morning and this big, black, wet thing was trying to get under the covers with him! He said it damn near gave him a heart-attack. He came to his senses, grabbed Callie by the collar and threw her back outside telling her to go home. Apparently once wasn’t enough, she came right back inside. So he resorted to putting the coat hanger over her head so she COULDN’T get through the pet door.

When Tommy learned all of this he came to me saying, “I am so embarrassed I can’t even look over at their front door. What am I going to do?” I suggested he get a bottle of his best whiskey from his liquor cabinet and take it over to Dick and just say, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy did just that; even put a bow on it, and Dick was the gentleman I knew he was. They had a good laugh, Dick got some really good whiskey and Tommy was more watchful of open doors from then on.