I know all about normal people, and how they live.
For example, I know that they don’t have to hide in a shut closet to make a phone call.
I know that they can rest their clothes on a bed or chair while getting dressed, without subsequently looking like Grizzly Adams.
I know that they don’t cringe when a Domino’s commercial comes on the air, simply because it contains a doorbell noise.
I know that when it’s time to get into bed, they just get into bed.
And I know that they don’t have six broken vacuum cleaners, standing side by side in their garage, like an Oreck sponsored team of Rockettes.
The reason I know so much about normal people is that I used to be one of them. That was before I became a dog lunatic.
As I type this, there are eleven dogs in my office. That represents less than fifty percent of the twenty four that are in the house. At this moment they are mostly sleeping, having eaten about an hour ago, and no doubt tired from having gotten my wife Debbie and I up at five thirty this morning.
So there are bodies lying everywhere; the house looks like a Civil War battlefield. Of course, there was very little shedding done at Gettysburg or Antietam, so there were less vacuum cleaners around.
It’s quiet now, but if a doorbell rings, live or on television, or if a Fedex truck pulls up, it will sound like a fox hunt in here. Forget talking on the phone, or watching television, or hearing ourselves think. And if you think that barking is good for a writer’s concentration, you’ve clearly never read my work.
You might be wondering how I got to this point, possibly as a guide to how to avoid it yourself. It all started with a golden retriever named Tara. She was my wife’s dog when Debbie and I met. It was love at first sight, and I really liked Debbie as well.
It is a ludicrous understatement to say that Tara was a remarkable creature. She was intelligent, sensitive, loving, hilarious, and adorable. I knew her for eighteen months, the last three of which followed the horrible diagnosis of nasal carcinoma.
Those three months were a transforming experience for Debbie and I. Tara was not alone, not for a single minute, and we did everything we could to make her comfortable and happy. We took her on vacations, we catered to her every biscuit-filled desire, and for the last three weeks of her life we fed her only hot dogs, because that’s all she would eat.
It is a measure of our lunacy that when she died, we decided that in her honor we would never eat a hot dog again, and in nineteen years we haven’t. In retrospect, I can only wish that her cravings had been for broccoli.
I was ready to get another dog right away, but Debbie was not. So instead we started volunteering in an animal shelter in Los Angeles County.
It was an eye-opening, gut wrenching experience. While the people that work there are generally well-intentioned and competent, the shelters in LA County are a disaster. There are way more homeless animals than the system can handle, and to be there is to witness some truly horrible things happen. I promise not to mention any of them here.
Since neither Debbie nor I are big fans of watching truly horrible things, we decided on a different approach. We left and started the Tara Foundation, a non-profit organization that had as its sole mission the rescue of dogs about to be euthanized.
We’ve rescued approximately four thousand dogs, of which maybe sixty percent have been golden retrievers. We’ve focused exclusively on large dogs, since it’s the small, cute ones that have the best chance of being adopted from the public shelters.
We’ve also tried to pay special attention to the dogs that really had no hope without us. People are not generally inclined to adopt older dogs, or dogs with pre-existing health conditions. So we took many of them, without foreseeing the obvious effects of that decision.
We boarded our rescue dogs at a vet’s office, while we found homes for them. But just because senior, or dogs with health issues, were in our control, didn’t mean that there were families that wanted them.
We couldn’t just leave them in dog runs for months on end; that was no life. They would have been better off not being rescued. So one day we decided to bring home a ten year old Aussie Shepherd mix named Charlie.
Then Phoebe. Then Sophie. Then Harry. Then Annie. Then Ellie. And then, and then, and then…
Thus started a cycle which could never be broken. We couldn’t bring ourselves to leave a dog in a shelter, knowing his age or physical condition would result in his being dragged to a miserable, undignified end in a euthanasia room. But then we couldn’t leave him in a cage, waiting endlessly for us to find a home that would welcome him. Or her.
So ours became that home, over and over and over again. It actually gets easier; when you have one dog, getting a second seems like a big deal. When you have twenty seven, a twenty eighth does not feel like a hardship. We’ve been as high as forty two.
The thing that people who have never visited our house don’t realize (and who would be crazy enough to visit our house?) is that these dogs, no matter how many we have, are our pets.
Debbie and I know their names, their personalities, where they like to be petted and scratched, where they want their food dishes, etc. We have the same relationship with each of them that other people have with their single dogs. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.
And abnormality has its rewards…many, many rewards. We have had the incredible privilege of saving four thousand innocent lives, and then arranging for them to enrich the lives of their future human owners. We get countless emails and letters from people, telling us how wonderful these dogs are. Almost all express amazement that those amazing dogs could have been facing euthanasia.
I’ll tell just one story, but I could tell a thousand. One day Debbie and I were walking through the shelter when we saw a kennel worker leading a dog, not with a leash, but at the end of a long pole. That pole, plus the room towards which they were heading, made it clear to us that this dog was about to be euthanized.
She was adorable, a terrier mix, no more than thirty pounds. She was getting up in age, maybe seven years old. She was matted and dirty, but had a smile on her face, and not a clue where she was going.
Except she wasn’t going there for long.
They were maybe thirty feet from the euthanasia room when Debbie screamed, “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING WITH MY DOG?”
The man turned, as did probably everybody within a mile of where we were standing. What he saw was Debbie running down the hall towards him. She grabbed for the pole, and he was smart enough to let her have it.
She dropped it to the ground, ran over to the dog and disconnected her from her collar. Then she picked her up, and didn’t put her down until we were in the car.
We took the dog, who Debbie named Princess, to the vet’s office for a bath and whatever medical care she might need. Then we put her up for adoption.
A couple in their mid-sixties showed up a week later, along with their son, Richard. Richard was in his thirties, and clearly had mental challenges. He spoke haltingly, without much affect.
We had screened them over the phone, so I knew the father was a college professor, and that his wife did not work. She would be home most of the day with a dog that they’d adopt, and the dog would live and sleep in the house, a requirement for us. But they hadn’t mentioned their son in the phone call.
They were interested in a golden retriever, but Richard had other ideas. He brightened when he saw Princess, and within three minutes he was sitting with her on his lap. He was smiling and petting, and she was loving it. The sale had clearly been made, and his parents make the adoption of Princess official.
It was about three weeks later that the husband called, with his wife on the extension. He asked that I have Debbie join the call as well, which she did.
From that point on the wife did all the talking. She told us that Richard had been in an accident when he was six months old, and it had left him brain damaged. His behavior had been erratic ever since, to the extent that it became impossible for Richard to stay in their home full time…he needed care at a special facility. For the last thirty years they had only been able to take Richard on weekends.
She went on to tell us that the transformation in Richard since adopting Princess had been startling. She had a calming, pleasing effect on him. He doted on her, and since he was willing to be the do-ter, Princess was certainly of a mind to be the do-tee.
She told us that as a result they had consulted with Richard’s doctors, and all agreed that he could move out of the facility and in with them full time. And he had done so.
So they had called to say, “Thank you for giving us our son back.”
We were too choked up to say it, but of course Princess deserved the credit.
And one week earlier she had been on the end of a pole.
The rewards at home are almost as good. Yes, it’s hard to get into bed when there’s already five dogs up there, including a Mastiff and a Bernese Mountain Dog. But once we get in, it’s surprisingly comforting having them there.
And yes, they get us up at the crack of dawn, but we live on a lake, and that’s when it’s the most beautiful.
And yes, going to the vet every twenty minutes is not the best way to concentrate on writing a novel, but if there’s a better built-in excuse, I haven’t heard it.
We’ve recently moved from California to Maine, a trek that we made in three RV’s, with eleven human volunteers and twenty five dogs. It was a bizarre expedition, and I’m going to be writing a book about it, as well as our life in rescue.
But I’ll work on that tomorrow. Right now I have to fill water dishes, and give out medicine, and do some petting. And then I want to get into the bed early; it’s much easier that way.
David
David Rosenfelt is the Shamus & Edgar-nominated author of the Andy Carpenter mystery series, praised as “a blessed anomaly in crime fiction” (Booklist). He is also the writer of three TV movies, and founder of the Tara Foundation, which has saved 4,000 dogs.
He graduated from New York University with the goal of entering the movie business. He took a job with his uncle, then President of United Artists, and made his way up to a position as President of Marketing for Tri-Star Pictures, where he worked on films including Rocky, The Natural, and Rambo.
In 1995, David and his wife started the Tara Foundation to find loving homes for dogs. They bring home the dogs that are too old or ill to be adopted, and currently live with 27 dogs.
His next book, LEADER OF THE PACK, will be published in July by Minotaur. You can learn more about him at his website and can also find him on Facebook.
Sorry, while not much of an animal person, I do love you and you books. This was a beautiful story. Thank you for sharing it.
I have long been a big fan of David Rosenfelt and his writings. I think maybe his books were part of the reason why when I was ‘in need’ I opted for a dog (my first) and I am almost 60 years old. He has been the ‘best’ medicine for me. Thank you for showing me the way to a happier life.
Hi Dave,
I have been doing Akita rescue for almost 28 years. I currently have a houseful also, all of whom are rejects because of physical or temperament issues. One of the reasons I love so many of your stories is because of the Tara foundation and the way they are run in the books…I also enjoy the human characters and the stories that swirl about them.
I did follow your trip on Facebook and just want to thank you for many wonderful reads which are mini vacations for me. I don’t get too many real ones.
Jodi Marcus
Hi, I read the above story with tears in my eyes. I adopted an older dog (she is 9-1/2 now) and she was used for breeding for the first 8 years of her life – being bred every six months to give the breeder more Boxer puppies to sell. Then she was abandoned and found on a railroad track by a woman who contacted a rescue and got her into a vet. The vet told me it was a miracle she was alive, as she was so anemic; not only that she had heartworm and tapeworm but she is a fighter. I had just lost my Boxer who was 13-1/2 years old and wasn’t going to get another dog – then looked on Petfinder and saw my dog – after calling and talking to the rescuer, made arrangements to drive from Palm Harbor, Fl to meet her in Ft. Myers (they were in Miami). Wasn’t sure I was going to take her (but my heart knew). Saw her, loved her and she is home with me now, for 1-1/2 years. Her name is Gracie because by the grace of God she has me and I have her. She is loving, kind and so glad to have a good home. When she is gone (and I hope not for a long time) I will again adopt an older dog – and probably a Boxer. I so admire what you are doing. I am older and can only manage one dog, but that dog is my life while it is with me.
Many blessings to you and your wife.
Paula Eriksen and Gracie
As tears run down my face I thank God for people like David & Debbie. I have read all of the Andy Carpenter books and wait anxiously for the next one. I think Mr. Rosenfelt could write the ingredients of a can of corn and make it funny/touching and something I wouldn’t soon forget. Thank-you from my heart..my dog’s heart and anyone that has ever loved an animal. I would LOVE to hear that a movie is being made on the Andy Carpenter books. I tell EVERYONE I know about them. Thank you again and just know…Tara and any others gone after her are waiting for us (with my Sashi and Mariah) for us to all meet in the big puppy playground in the sky. I can’t WAIT to meet Tara. I prayed she would meet my Sashi especially on that side and welcome her. I know they are all going to be there when we get there one day, tails wagging and tongues ready for kisses!
Dear Mr. David Rosenfelt – whatta guy! Whatta wife! Bravo.
Your books are delightful and this article was terrific.
I had known about your rescues and the move from one coast to the other – mind boggling, I truly prayed for the lot of you to come through unscathed.
Blessings on your heads. Dogs are so absolutely super and I’ve had a few (no, I don’t come close to the number you’ve sheltered) and all but one of those have been rescues. Some ‘rescues’ are ’cause folks know I’m a easy target for a dog in need.
Plans have changed lately….I’ve been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease and my latest, a black Lab. that was homeless (literally), found wandering the day after Christmas – spent almost an entire week at the Vet’s – couldn’t stand on his own for 3 days! Anyway, you know the drill……..I had to allow my daughter and her family rescue that Lab. one more time. He was (still is) a grand fella but I just couldn’t handle him any longer. It was not an easy decision to relinquish him but I did know he was going to a dog-loving home (they also have a Brittany…had to have their Golden Retriever put down) so that made it a teeny-tiny bit easier.
You and your wife are simply amazing….how good to even know you exist – and your humor is delightful.
Thanks for letting me tell you about my rescues…one, Otis, never made it to my house. He was older and no one wanted him…so, of course, he was coming here – it’s a long story, safe to say he never got here – he died an hour before I had an appt. to get him.
Was hard to store his new bed, new dishes, new collar, etc. – I would have loved him and I’m hoping he knows that.
We have a no-kill shelter in Gaylord, Michigan (my home town) but we both know the older dogs don’t have much chance re adoption. Sad as they make excellent, loving pets who seem to try harder to please.
Oh, I’m ambling – sorry.
Take care, be good to yourselves and the puppies…thanks again for caring. God bless.
I was laughing so hard I was almost in tears as I read about your home life. We have the exact same home! We have 7 goldens all rescues, a Lhasa Apso a shelter dog that was to be euthanized, a shih-tzu, chihuahua/shih-tzu mix also a rescue, a chow who was dumped, a black lab age 14, and our latest rescue a 6 month old cavapoo that was to be put to sleep because he falls down once in a while due to lack of oxygen to his brain. Like you we can’t talk on the phone, watch tv, hear ourselves think and god forbid they see a rabbit in the yard!! Our sleeping in a bed is a privelige, we only get what room is left. We wouldn’t have it any other way. We love our dogs and can’t imagine life without them. Can’t wait for your next book. A fan and dog lover!!!
Thanks for sharing this. I, too, followed your journey from West to East coast. I’ve also read all of your books. Our dog is a rescue who was dumped by the Rio Grande in NM. She’s a little girl, with a few ‘issues,’ but neither of us can imagine life without her. She loves to snuggle and chase squirrels (she’s convinced if she just keeps trying she’ll get one eventually).
Last November we lost our son in a terrible auto accident. We have no more children but caring for and receiving love from our little yorkie, Abby, has kept us sane. Perhaps angels come to us a dogs.
I have read all your books and always check the “Mystery Guild” newsletters to see if you have a new one coming soon. Thank you for your wonderful gift as an author and as one who loves and cares for our friends and companions, all dogs. God bless you, David and Debbie.
My deep-felt sympathy for your loss, Shirley. I can’t even imagine. But I am so grateful that you have little Abby to be there for you. You’re right, dogs are angels, and the love and comfort they give us is immeasurable.
Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers.
Thank you. It means a lot to me to know many prayers and thoughts surround us.
I love your books. That was such a beautiful story. I wish there were more people like you and Debbie. I too volunteered at a city pound and I would cry when I would see the walk of death……dogs being walked to a gas chamber, smiling and wagging their tails, just happy to be shown some attention by someone and not knowing what their immediate future was. We have to stop the kiiling of these poor cats and dogs who are homeless. Spay and neuter is the answer for many areas, and I am working hard in our area to reduce these homeless animals by s/n.
David you already your my favorite all time writer. I cannot get enough of your books,but is about you and your wife and what Beautiful,compassonate people the two of you are .thank-you
Hi David and Debbie You two are just as “special” a couple as you think of all your beloved pets. You have been blessed with the ability to be loving, giving, nurturing and ever faithful–not an easy feat in this world. We are all blessed for having you among us. Thank you. Looking forward as ever to your next book in July.
I read my first David Rosenfelt “Andy Carpenter” book last year and immediately had to read them all! As both a fan of mystery/thrillers AND dogs, they make me very happy!
David, you always make me laugh, and this piece didn’t disappoint! But it also had me choked up at the end in your story about Richard and Princess.
I am truly in awe of you and your wife’s devotion to saving dogs. You guys are angels in every sense of the word. My husband and I do foster care for a pug rescue group, so we know the wonderful feeling of taking a needy dog in and finding it a good home. Of course, we only have our 4 dogs plus a foster at a time, so you guys are amazing for having 27! Did I mention you are angels?
Also, we live in Oregon, but lived in Maine for a year. Just south of Portland (in both states!), and loved it! We drove across the country with 3 dogs at the time…how you did it with 25, I’ll never know. Again, angels.
Anyway, sorry this is long, but I just wanted you to know how much I enjoyed this piece. Knowing there are people like you out there in this world that is often NOT a kind and compassionate place to be for animals, makes me feel much better. For all the dogs out there, I thank you.
Thank you for sharing with so many lovely people
Dumb animals ,no I dont think so,
my best wishes to you all
Love your pet spotlight page,
I house sit for my family
occasionally to keep the German shepherd company it only takes her a few hours to have me obeying every action not a word spoken ! just two bright eyes and a pink tongue (Cleo that is )
mutual love !
Thanks for the kind words. Plenty more fuzzy critters are coming…am still waiting for a non-fuzzy submission.