Greetings!

Eliminating cruelty, abuse and overpopulation of animals.

It's what we do.

So when a sister animal welfare organization reached out to us and asked if we would accept 15 Cocker Spaniels from an 88-dog rescue operation they were conducting in Sac County, we didn't hesitate to say "Absolutely!"

It's what we do.

Needless to say, it's been a hectic week. The Cocker Spaniels are on the mend, but they have a long journey ahead. Ear, eye, skin, and gum infections. Tumors, cysts, and decaying teeth. And even after we treat their medical conditions, they will have a long way to go before they can be adopted...after all, these dogs have never known what it's like to be part of a loving family.

They've never snuggled with a child in front of the TV. They've never walked in a city park, sniffing the crisp air and romping in snow. They've never waited patiently under a dining room table, waiting for the inevitable pea or cooked carrot.

They have no idea how to be part of a family.

It's our job to help them learn. It's what we do. And we couldn't do it without you.

When I say "Together, we can make a difference," I mean it. It's only with your support that this organization can fulfill its mission and help dogs like Reno (aka Cocker Spaniel number 9) and all of the animals in need in Linn County and beyond.

Together, we can make a difference-

Bob Citrullo
Executive Director

P.S. If you've already donated toward the Sac County Cocker Spaniels' medical care, we thank you! If you haven't, we want you to know that even $5 would help us buy antibiotics to treat their infections. Please take a moment to donate now.

I've been meaning to write a cat tale about our yellow tabby, Lexi, who we adopted from the Cedar Valley Humane Society in May of 2005.

We'd been without an animal friend around our house for nine months after the death of our 16-year-old Lab, and I decided it was time to remedy that. Since we'd always had dogs through the years I decided maybe we should try getting a cat for a house pet this time, so I started visiting the cat room at CVHS.

There were so many lovely fur-balls who'd poke their paw through their cages, wanting to be friends with me. I had to touch every paw extended, and I spent time holding many of them. There were so many choices, but there was one little cat who never poked her paw through at me. She turned her back to everything going on in the room and slept. This bothered me. I read her cage log; she'd come in 3 months earlier with two siblings--both of them had since been adopted.

I worried that her spirit was broken, a thought that was unacceptable to me. She'd purr when I reached in and pet her, though, and I made several trips back to the shelter to sit and rock with her. She'd snuggle against my shoulder willingly--and purr. She was an expert purr-er, and I knew I'd found the cat I'd take home.

The shelter had nicknamed her Acorn. My husband and I renamed her Lexi.

Over the past 6 years Lexi has gotten her spirit back. She plays like a wild kitty when we roll her mouse toys in "kitty marijuana" as we call it (cat nip, of course!). She lives for her bird watching duties from her perch by the kitchen window, and she loves to be outside with us (on her leash, of course) when we enjoy porch time. She is entirely too good at eating grass and hissing at the neighbor's cat who comes over wanting to be her friend.

Lexi loves to take her naps on top of many of the stuffed animal friends in the spare bedrooms, and insists on TV-watching lap time with either my husband or me every evening.

She was meant to come into our lives.

Rebecca and Wayne G.

Remember, YOU can send us your Happy Tail, too!

A cat's got her own opinion of human beings. She don't say much, but you can tell enough to make you anxious not to hear the whole of it.

-Jerome K. Jerome