The fact that some people choose to leave their devoted friends behind for the smallest of reasons pains us to the core. Heartless owners have given up on their pets or even attempted to have them put to sleep due to minor health issues or the simple reason that they are “too old.”
In one such tragic instance, the owner of a dog named Marcus decided to put him down because he barked excessively. Thank goodness, a second chance at life has been granted to this lovely canine.
Introducing Marcus, a 2-year-old mix of patterdale terrier and lab, who is currently in the tender care of UK-based NGO Lucie’s Animal Rescue. After barely five weeks, his owner gave him up due to his tendency of barking at people and other dogs.
But it was clear that Marcus’s owner had made no attempt to comprehend or modify his actions. She couldn’t be bothered to give him time or training, so much so that she had even tried to have him put to death at the veterinary clinic.
In a touching Facebook post, Lucie’s Animal Rescue stated, “Dogs communicate and express their fears and excitement through barking.” The owner of Marcus said, “He’s had none,” in response to a question concerning the training she had provided to assist him get over any potential apprehensive behavior.
Because of his tendency of barking, the owner Obstained and decided to go forward with euthanasia despite the behaviorist’s offer of aid. “It’s disgusting,” said Lucie Holmes, the rescue’s founder, expressing her fury and heartbreak. I’ve been so irritated that I haven’t been able to sleep well. Canines emit barks. They just do it that way.
Marcus was thankfully saved from such a terrible outcome and adopted by the caring rescue group. He is a kind and kind dog who hasn’t even barked since he arrived, according to his new guardians. “You are cherished and safe, Marcus. I can assure you that you won’t be treated in such a manner ever again,” the rescuer said.
Happily, Marcus has been mingling and making friends with other canines, according to the rescue group. Marcus no longer barks aggressively; instead, he just barks in a playful way, despite his previous owner’s problems. “I assume he’s been barking at other dogs in an attempt to greet and interact with them. Like all dogs do,” the rescue wrote with sentimentality. “It’s great to see him finally enjoying the company of friends and, most importantly, being a dog! He is very nervous and anxious.”
Marcus has been undergoing training since coming to the rescue, and he has demonstrated outstanding response time and command compliance. He is thriving in the rescue setting and adjusting well, though it is unknown when he will be available for adoption.
According to Lucie, Marcus’s tale should serve as a constant reminder to all dog owners that caring for a pet is a lifetime commitment that takes patience. She counseled, “You have to do your homework and give dogs time to settle.” “You wouldn’t bring a toddler to daycare and expect them to be content right away.”
Marcus’s surrender for no other reason than that he was barking excessively breaks my heart. We are ecstatic that he is now in the capable hands of people who genuinely concern themselves for his welfare, nevertheless.
If you love animals, please tell others about Marcus’s touching tale and contribute to the message of kindness and understanding for our four-legged companions. Let’s show them the affection and attention they merit.
My Daughter Ran Away from Our Shed Saying Someone Was Inside – I Checked and Called My Husband Immediately
When my daughter Cinthy ran into the house, screaming about something in our shed, I went to investigate and called my husband immediately for help. What I discovered hiding inside changed our lives forever, leading us down a path filled with shocking revelations and unexpected new bonds.
I left work in a hurry, eager to pick up Cinthy from Linda’s place. Linda had been our nanny ever since Cinthy was a baby. She couldn’t have children of her own, so she poured all her love into caring for Cinthy.
When I arrived, Linda was playing chess with Cinthy, delighting in her skillful gameplay.
A woman and young girl paying chess | Source: Pexels
“Hi, Clara,” Linda greeted me with a warm smile. “Cinthy’s been a delight, as always.”
“Thanks, Linda. Ready to go home, sweetheart?” I asked Cinthy.
“Yeah, Mommy!” Cinthy chirped, grabbing her sling bag.
Little girl with her bag | Source: Pexels
As we walked home, Cinthy chattered about her day at school. Once we arrived, I set her to play outside while I started making dinner.
I was chopping vegetables when I heard a piercing scream. Cinthy burst through the kitchen door, eyes wide with terror.
“Mommy! There’s something in the shed!”
A woman preparing a meal | Source: Pexels
I dropped the knife and crouched down to her level. “What did you see, honey?”
“I… I don’t know. Something moved in there.”
I glanced outside, then back at Cinthy. “Stay here,” I instructed firmly. I grabbed my phone and headed to the shed, my heart pounding.
The shed was old and creaky. I opened the door slowly, peering into the dim light. The air smelled musty, like old wood and dirt.
A hand opening a shed door | Source: Pexels
As I stepped inside, I noticed the cellar hatch closing. My first reaction was that it must be a burglar intent on stealing the garden tools and whatever else we had stored in there.
“Hello?” I called out. “Who’s there?”
No answer. I strained to hear any sounds but there was only silence. My mind whirled with possibilities. I quickly locked the shed door from the outside and ran back to the house.
A woman inside a garden shed | Source: Freepik
I dialed my husband, James, who was away on a business trip. He picked up immediately.
“Clara? What’s wrong?”
“I think there’s someone robbing our shed, James! They ducked down into the cellar when I went in to investigate. I locked the door to the shed, what should I do now?”
“Clara, call the cops right away. Don’t go near there. Be careful. I’ll catch the next flight home, but call me back as soon as the police get there.”
A woman looks at her cell phone | Source: Pexels
I hung up and dialed 911. “Hello, I think someone has broken into my garden shed at 122 Vine. I need a patrol car to come immediately!”
The operator assured me help was on the way. I turned to Cinthy, who was clinging to my leg. “It’s okay, sweetie. The police are coming.”
Minutes later, two officers arrived. I led them to the shed and unlocked the door. They entered cautiously, flashlights sweeping the darkness. One of them lifted the cellar hatch and shone her light down.
A male and female police officer | Source: Pexels
Minutes later, two officers arrived. I led them to the shed and unlocked the door. They entered cautiously, flashlights sweeping the darkness.
“Ma’am, please stay back. We need to check this out,” one officer said, his hand hovering over his holster. “If it’s a burglar, they might be armed and dangerous.”
They moved towards the cellar hatch, one of them lifting it slowly. “Ready?” he asked his partner.
“Ready,” she replied, her flashlight steady.
A bed in a basement room | Source: Pexels
The beam of light cut through the darkness, and the officer froze. “Wait, they’re just kids,” she said, her voice full of surprise. “It’s okay, kids. We’re here to help you.”
Two boys, no older than twelve, emerged. They were dirty and thin, their eyes wide with fear. I noticed makeshift beds and empty cans of beans in the cellar. They had been living there, surviving on what little they could find.
“Please don’t send us back,” one of them pleaded. “We can’t go back to that place.”
A police officer addresses a young boy | Source: Pexels
The officer knelt down. “What are your names?”
“Joe,” the boy replied. “And this is my twin brother, Stan.”
Looking at the two boys, my heart ached. “Why were you hiding in our shed?”
Joe looked at Stan before speaking. “We ran away from the home. The people there are mean to us.”
A police officer taking notes | Source: Pexels
I looked at the officers. “What will happen to them now?”
“We’ll take them to the station,” one said. “We need to contact this home and get them checked out.”
“Can I come with them?” I asked.
The officer hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, but we need to get them to the hospital first.”
A medical professional | Source: Pexels
I turned to the boys. “I’ll stay with you, okay?”
Joe nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. “Thank you.”
As we walked to the police car, Cinthy tugged at my sleeve. “Mommy, can they stay with us?”
I looked at the officers. “Is that possible?”
“We’ll see,” one replied. “For now, let’s get them the help they need.”
An old house | Source: Pexels
At the hospital, the boys were checked by doctors. They were malnourished but otherwise fine. I stayed with them, sitting in the waiting room and holding their hands.
The police found the so-called “home” the boys described, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that sending them back there was a bad idea.
The next day, I took Cinthy to school and then drove to the home. The building was cold and unwelcoming. The director, Adam, greeted me with a forced smile.
“Mrs. Thompson, I understand you found two of our wards,” he said.
A sinister-looking man | Source: Pexels
“Yes, Joe and Stan. They said they ran away because of mistreatment.”
His smile faltered. “They’re troubled boys. They don’t adjust well.”
“Is that so?” I replied. “I’d like to see where they’ve been living.”
He hesitated, then led me through dimly lit hallways. The rooms were crowded with un-made beds and the place had a generally depressed air about it. I felt a surge of anger.
Depressing looking room | Source: Freepik
Back at home, I discussed everything with Linda and her husband, Peter. “Those boys can’t stay there,” I said. “We have to do something.”
Linda nodded, her eyes teary. “Peter and I have been talking. We want to foster them. But we don’t have much.”
“Whatever you need, we’ll help,” I promised.
The next few weeks were a blur of paperwork and meetings. We faced resistance from Adam, who insisted the boys were better off at the “home.”
A pair of blond boys | Source: Pexels
But we were determined. Cinthy and I visited Joe and Stan regularly, bringing them homemade meals and spending time with them.
One evening, while we were there, I overheard Adam arguing with a social worker. “We’re under investigation, but those kids are lying!”
I pulled the social worker aside. “What’s happening?”
She sighed. “We’ve had reports of neglect. We’re trying to find new homes for all the children here.”
Two women talking | Source: Freepik
Then, Joe was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. This was the last straw. I contacted a lawyer and threatened Adam with legal action and media exposure.
As the investigation continued, more about the sinister operations of the home came to light. Adam and his wife, Julia, ran the place as an income generation scheme. They fostered as many children as they could, claiming government grants, but kept most of the money for themselves.
A young boy has his temperature measured | Source: Pexels
I confronted Adam and Julia one last time. “How could you do this to these kids?”
Julia sneered. “They’re just orphans. No one cares.”
“Well, I care. And I’ll make sure everyone knows what you’ve done.”
With the help of the lawyer and the social worker, we ensured Joe and Stan were removed from that awful place. The news of the home’s neglect spread, and other children were rescued and placed in better care.
Disheveled children | Source: Pexels
Linda and Peter finally welcomed Joe and Stan into their home. They were safe, loved, and starting to heal. I continued to support them, knowing this was just the beginning of a new chapter for all of us.
One evening, I visited Linda and Peter’s house. The boys were settling in nicely, their faces brighter and more hopeful. Cinthy, Joe, and Stan were playing together in the living room.
Children playing chess together | Source: Pexels
At dinner, we all sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. As we ate, I noticed Joe pushing his food around on his plate, a small grin forming on his face.
“Everything okay, Joe?” I asked.
He looked up, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I was just wondering… do you have any more of those canned beans? You know, the ones from the shed?”
A family enjoying a meal together | Source: Pexels
We all laughed, the tension easing from the room. It was the first time I’d seen him joke about their ordeal.
“I think we can find something a little better than canned beans,” Peter said, chuckling.
Joe nodded, his grin widening. “Just checking.”
After dinner, we gathered in the living room. I looked at Joe and Stan, their faces glowing with the warmth of family.
A boy at a family dinner table | Source: Pexels
“You have a family now,” I told them. “A real family who loves you and will take care of you.”
Joe’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Clara. For everything.”
“No need to thank me. Just be happy and safe,” I replied, my heart swelling with emotion.
As I watched them interact, I felt a sense of peace. These boys had been through so much, but they were resilient. With the love and support of Linda, Peter, and all of us, they had a chance to build a better future.
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