One of the biggest challenges to calling attention to the plight of neglected dogs is making the subject matter palatable — something that won’t  backfire by turning people off completely.

 

That’s why I did backflips when I came across Hooray for the Underdog! a series of cards featuring dogs that were once unwanted, abandoned or thrown away — dogs that were now gussied up and posing whimsically for the camera.

 

The cards are the work of Janet Healey and Joe Grisham, a Dallas, Texas couple who wanted to call attention to animals that weren’t as fortunate as their own. I discovered their handiwork at a shop in New York, Kate’s Paperie, a year ago. I bought several cards and later, when I needed more, I went searching for their website and stocked up. I loved the card that featured an intense-looking Westie with a huge corsage around her neck above the words “tickled pink.” The back of the card identified Sabrina as a puppy mill survivor. “Special power: Professional stress reliever. She’ll sit quietly on your lap for as long as you need her.” And the one of a schauzer mix perched on a regal chair. The front of the card says: “thank you with all my heart.” The back says: “Jillian. Stray. Rescued from a city shelter only hours before her scheduled demise. Special power: Making her humans feel like they’re the ones who were saved.”

 

The cards dovetailed so well with the message behind Saving Gracie that I’ve used them to wish friends happy birthday, thank booksellers and business associates and offer encouragement to people who needed a pick-me-up. None of the recipients had ever heard of the card line, which made them that much more novel, but on the other hand they’re just too well done to remain a secret for long. The cards have since been featured on Oprah, in national magazines and on morning talk shows. And now they’re easier than ever to find. In recent days I’ve spied them on display at Office Max and Barnes & Noble. You can’t get better exposure than that!

 

I’d snap up every one of these cards if I could: like the “Happy Howlidays” card featuring a quartet of dogs dolled up in winter gear and, on the back: “Age-old story: Unwanted by owners just for being themselves.” Or the one of a chihuahua named Blossom, looking like a tiny elf in festive red and green. The front of the card says “Have a holly jolly.” On the back a more poignant message: “Dumped on one of the busiest streets of LA.”

 

Check them out at www.HoorayForTheUnderdog.com

 

Puppy mills are depressing and horrific and try as they may, many animal lovers can’t bring themselves even to read about them. (Trust me, writing an entire book about the subject took some emotional steeling as well.) But every day in America, hundreds of thousands of people devote life and livelihood to saving animals in need. They enter dark, ammonia-laced homes and barns knowing they may encounter sick, wounded and terrified dogs, animals that need to be rescued but may lash out out of fear.

 

In the last two months alone:

 

– The ASPCA helped remove 34 dogs from a puppy mill in St. Clair County, Mo.

 

– The Humane Society of Charlotte, N.C., took in nearly two dozen owner-surrendered dogs suffering from ear, eye and skin infections.

 

– The Idaho Humane Society in Boise rescued two dozen miniature dachshunds from a breeder in La Grande, Ore.

 

– A host of animal welfare groups stepped up to save 58 New Guinea Singing Dogs after Pennsylvania officials shut down the kennel. The dogs, a rare and primitive breed from New Guinea, were living in outdoor pens. They’re predatory and unsocialized and will need to go to zoos or sanctuaries.

 

– The Humane Society of Cowlitz County, Washington, removed 42 Pomeranians and other adogs found covered in feces in a dark barn.

 

– The Central Dakota Humane Society helped save 200 dogs who were found starving and sick at an abandoned farmstead in North Dakota.

 

– The Sumter Humane Society in Georgia took in more than 80 filthy dogs from a pet shop owner’s rural property, some pregnant and others suffering from advanced cases of mange.

 

Snow had fallen and the temperature had dropped, so it was early afternoon before I got the dogs out for their walk. We headed to Gibson Park, Great Falls’ largest, intending to circle the 1.3-mile loop twice. I was in a foul mood and anxious to get back home in hopes of catching up on some work.

 

We had nearly finished our first round when the saddest yowls I’ve ever heard stopped me cold. There at the base of a pine tree crouched a tiny black kitten, her face scrunched with desperation.

 

The dogs were keenly interested in this creature. Uh-huh.  I hustled them on to the car and returned to the scene. The kitten was still there. She looked about six weeks old. I glanced around but saw no signs of a mother cat. In below-freezing weather I doubted this kitty could survive without some help. But the minute I got close she scampered away, across the blanketed lawn and into a tangly bank. I followed, snow seeping down into my shoes. We played hide and seek for five or ten minutes until a jogger happened by who kindly offered to help. With amazing speed he plunged into the branches and snared the kitten. Together we walked her back to my car, opened the hatchback and nestled the kitten into first a blanket and then an empty box.

 

Even before Miss Kitty had been captured, I called my friend Pam Lemelin to ask if she was interested in a new pet. At the very least, she said, she would be willing to foster the kitten. She knew of a second friend who might be interested too. Back at home, I situated the kitten in a bathroom, the dogs whimpering excitedly on the other side of the door. Thus followed a series of phone calls and emails about the kitten’s fate (as much as I would have loved to keep her, my border collie had way too big of a gleam in her eye). In between fielding calls, I dug out an electric pad, Googled stray/cat/feed and held my new pal tightly in my lap.

 

By 4 p.m. we had a plan. I would take the kitten to my vet’s, where she would be tested for ringworm, distemper and anything else a feral kitten might have. Once the tests are done, Pam will take her home to see if her other cat, Cairo, can tolerate the newcomer.

 

I never did get any work done, but by suppertime my bad mood had vanished. Great Falls has an estimated 2,000 homeless cats. It felt good to have played a part in rescuing one.