Animal Tales-Maggie Mae

I follow in the footsteps of a very big dog.  My name is Maggie-Mae.  In August of 2010, my forever mamma dog lost her best friend of 18 years, Bucky.  Bucky Marie was a red-nosed pit rescued in the ‘90’s.  Her day of good fortune came when C picked her up at 8 weeks of age, wrapped her in a sweater, and carried her home.  When I was dumped at a gas station in a wayword southwestern town, I had no idea what my future held.  I was left still bleeding from having just delivered puppies.  A Good Samaritan picked me up and took me to the local animal shelter; she probably didn’t know it was a kill shelter, but fortunately for me a small rescue did. 


Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, C had already seen my picture.  She spends a great deal of time searching the lists of shelters, of those lost and found, those abused, and those in need of a rescue.  She didn’t know how she would get me from one place to another or if the rescue ranch she co-founded was prepared for another dog.  Losing Bucky was a hard transition for Rasta’s human caretakers and the dogs on the ranch.  Being an elder, she held a place in the hierarchy of the six-pack at Rasta’s and a really special place in C’s heart that no one could ever fill.  


My fate was uncertain, I knew that much because in my belly there sat a ball of fear and I had no idea what became of my puppies, but my body ached for them.  I suppose I was with people that are called backyard breeders and they didn’t need me,  just my puppies to sell, fight, use as bait, or breed more.  


I should mention I’m a Staffordshire Terrier, a smaller dog, but strong as an ox, or so people have said.  Like the American Pit Bull I am a decendent of the bulldog and am sometimes the target of breed specific legislation.  The fate of dogs like me, once in the shelter system becomes a precarious one, especially in high kill shelters and/or areas known for dog fighting.


I ended up being one of the lucky ones as a small rescue made arrangements for my transport all the way to Rasta's.  At that time no one knew C had seen me, but once she discovered I’d made it closer to her, she determined fate was at work and my ultimate destiny was Rasta’s Rescue Ranch.


I am now part of Rasta’s permanent six-pack and have taken my place as second in command under Uncle Rudy, known as the Guardian of the Ranch.  This summer I received my first opportunity to prove myself a good mamma dog and a necessary part of the social network on the ranch.  First came Rain, a German shepherd lab mix found by New Mexico Dogs Deserve Better and then Rasta’s 7, the pups that came to Rasta’s in August.  I’m helping Rain grow up and loved having a chance to help those little pups along.  I wasn’t their mamma dog, but could have been.


I am a really happy dog now and a grateful dog, grateful for the small rescues that make the biggest difference.


Maggie-Mae