I arrived at the entrance to the beach every morning after dropping Pam off at work. I combed the long road, looking for newly dumped dogs. I put out the dishes for food and water, working to gain the trust of the new arrivals. The new ones were usually scared, hungry, thirsty, and badly abused, so I was very careful about introducing the new dogs to the pack before they were ready. I figured their abusers were most likely men, so I knew I had my work cut out for me to gain their trust. The existing pack already respected me as their alpha, and I needed to make sure there was harmony among the members at all times. It was important that the new ones found their proper place in this ragtag family without too much trouble. If they fought after I left each evening, the injuries would mean almost certain death due to infection, so I did everything I could to ensure that didn’t happen. I’d often stay for hours into the evening after an already long day spent working with the dogs, correcting problems before they escalated, like when a new dog’s skittishness stirred up the pack.
What do You think about The Rescue At Dead Dog Beach?
