Rocco's Story
Rocco's Amazing Story...A few years ago, on a hot hot day in late summer, my daughter (and Crown Music Manager) Stacy finished work early and left the store to drive home. Her vehicle was in the back lot of the store, facing a less traveled side road. As she left the center's back parking lot, she opened her window to let out the oven-hot air inside the truck cab. Suddenly she heard a desperate howling coming from the neighborhood just south of the center. Stacy, an animal loving rescue worker said the heart wrenching sound was impossible to ignore. Soon, following the cries, she spotted a home - it's windows partially boarded up on an unkept lot on a side street. A dirty fence surrounded the abandoned home, and within it, in a bare backyard - was a roofless coop of sorts with sides made out of barbed wire.Cats were roaming everywhere around the house and pigeons were flying at something behind the coop. Stacy looked hard at coop and realized there was an animal in it. The source of the desperate howling was a a gangly young pup - trapped behind the barbed wire literally shrieking for help. She realized just by the emaciated look of him that the pup was in bad shape but common sense told her there may be other animals or dogs in or under the house and she worried that she could get mauled if she went into the yard unassisted.
As she tells it, destiny stepped in, as a dusty looking homeless man suddenly appeared, shuffling along while pushing his possession loaded shopping cart down the street. Stacy stopped him and asked if he could help her. She gave him her cell phone and said that she was going to climb into the yard to rescue the pup, (that from a distance resembled the generic pit bulls that are filling the local dog pounds these days) She asked that if other dogs suddenly appeared from the house and attacked her, that he call 911. He replied that he was on his way to lunch - so his time was limited. (okay ... strange response from a homeless guy, but TRUE) Stacy promised to buy him lunch if he'd delay his meal a few minutes and he agreed.
It took some wrangling but she got over the fence and over to the coop. A close look revealed that the pup was probably around 12 weeks of age. He was frightened but with little space to escape her, she was able to catch him and lift him past the barbed wire (that had already deeply punctured his shoulders and neck as he'd evidently attempted numerous escapes).
Holding him close, she realized he was burning up with a temperature. Simultaneously he quit struggling and just laid against her. At that moment, a woman from a neighboring home appeared and demanded to know what Stacy was doing. Stacy held the pup tightly to her and explained she was rescuing him. The woman in turn complained that the pup had been screaming for days, and that she had tossed a handful of kibble and some water in a bucket into the yard five days earlier but had not done anything since. Stacy took note of the empty bucket that was totally out of reach for where the pup had been trapped. The sun had long since evaporated the water so even if the pup had been able to reach it, he'd have found it empty. Indignation overtook Stacy and she had words with the woman, regarding the inhumane situation, the 'inaccessible' water and bits of food meaning nothing. It was likely that the pigeons had eaten whatever food she may or may not have tossed in earlier that week, and they were also likely waiting for the pup to die, since pigeons and other birds can and do scavenge dead animals.
The woman - not finding a sympathetic ear regarding the 'howling' she'd endured all week, left - and Stacy climbed back over the fence with the pup in her arms. After giving the homeless man a nice allowance for lunch, she got into her truck with the pup and headed straight back to the store. Five minutes later, I heard a knock and when I opened the door, I was shocked by the sight. A rail thin, bloody, wounded white and brown pup - bald in the face from what would later be diagnosed as mange - lay limp against her chest. His observant eyes were the only clue that he was really alive. Stacy, somewhere between furious and concerned handed the pup over to me and immediately called animal control, telling them to meet her outside our store so they could follow her to a house that may contain untold numbers of abandoned animals, including dozens of cats and possibly some dogs.
We laid the pup down in our back lounge/kitchen area, and filled an empty bowl with water. At first he just looked at it. We gave him some on his nose, and then he began to drink just a little He'd drink a few licks, then lay his head down for a bit, then drink some more... and rest. This went on and on until the animal rescue people arrived and then Stacy took them to the abandoned house. I continued to monitor the too quiet pup and gently petted his head. His temperature felt through the roof and then I noticed a lot of black dots on him. I ran my hand over his back and neck. Fleas, and worse yet, swollen ticks bulged under his chin, in on his back, belly, around his neck, and even in his ears...I think his golden green eyes were the one thing that gave me hope. But still, he'd just look at me, and lay his head back down.
Stacy came back, having told the rescue people that the pup was staying with us. They had ruled out any more pups being on the property but had to call for more help in getting the cats out of there. Stacy - having done all she could now placed her attention back on the pup. Before I could tell her not to, she picked him up and held him close to comfort him. I explained the black dots were fleas and ticks and she put him back down (glaring at me as she found a few 'critters' had already gotten onto her shirt) Together we pulled what we could from the youngster, but it was evident, if he lived, he'd need something effective to kill the parasites. It was also evident that despite his listless condition, he had to have food. He appeared physically starved. Stacy ran to the 99c store near our studio to get some food for him, and I - while she was gone - coaxed two tiny meatballs from a pot luck we'd had into him but he was very weak. (Grandma's method)
He wasn't interested in any food she'd purchased other than the meatballs and those didn't stay down long - not a good sign. He was too sick to recover on his own. It was time to call the vet.
Stacy managed to reach her vet who agreed to wait at his office for her to bring him in as an emergency. The vet later told her that the pup would not have lasted another four hours in that heat, and that when an animal that debilitated - shrieked that strongly for help, it was the 'last ditch' of survival effort. He'd not had an ounce of strength left in him the moment Stacy picked him up.
That was day one for that pup. The vet got more fluids into him, some antibiotics, recommended homeopathic tick dip - if he survived the week.
Stacy already had 4 rescue dogs. Number 5 wasn't an option, but we agreed he had to have a chance at least to live before any decisions were made.
Over the next several days, due to his terrible health and condition, Stacy kept the pup with us daily at Crown Music and at night on a blanket in her cooled garage (away from the healthy dogs). Here at Crown, he'd lay next to the couch in our cool quiet back room area, next to water and food -- eating a bit more each day. For days however, his tail never wagged, he didn't respond to coaxing either, but those beautiful eyes kept watching us.
(I also continued to smuggle real meat to him - risking the upset gut in favor of getting him past his depleted state- and he DID hold it down plus he seem more interested when he saw me going into the fridge next to where he laid).
His bald facial skin and body areas- went from a nasty raw flesh pink, to a less inflamed color of pink, and after a couple of homeopathic flea/tick dips, the fleas and ticks disappeared. His x shaped cuts from the barbed wire also developed healing scabs. He watched us more and more, and on occasion would walk into the front showroom of the store. He also would let himself be led outside the front door to go potty, but he was terrified of going out the back door of the store - too close I think, to his former prison only a hundred yards or so away. He also was afraid of most adult men.
Finally one day - after spending yet another morning in the back lounge of the store, he wandered out and his tail began to wag slightly. Always hanging low - but it still was a wag. His ears also move forward. The next vet visit.. the vet - cautious - decided he might make it after all. And Stacy dubbed him Rosco.
With the problem of likely 'death' receding, a second problem arrived. It was evident that "Rosco" was a pit bull mix. It was also evident by his serious gaze that Rosco wasn't a good name. He became Rocco - and it fit. He was serious looking, and shy but anxious to please, and he was trying to be a good citizen, even in his shy state.
Sadly - however - No adoption shelter wanted him, and even customers - once they saw him - cautioned us that he would be dangerous - possibly vicious - once grown. Even though he was house trained and behaving well, all attempts to find him a home failed. The minute they heard pit mix or saw the shape of his head and mouth, they stepped back with concern. In the interim, his appetite was on the increase, and the mange was getting smaller. His coat was getting shinier, and the scars were healing faster and faster. He also started carrying around a toy rope - and got significantly taller in the next few weeks. And some of our guys did their best to help the pup learn to trust men again. Rich Cabral really worked with him at the store and Stacy's husband Joe did at home. And soon, Rocco would race to the door to see Rich, and then more and more of our clients - men and women both. And as Rocco's fear of humans ebbed, so did our clients and friends fear of the dreaded pit mixes - but still not enough to take Rocco home.
Finally one day, Joe and Stacy decided that Rocco didn't need a home. He would have one at their place and at Crown. Rocco - also had become an organ music lover - and loved coming to work with Stacy, so he was then dubbed our store greeter. Rocco had found his way 'home'. Today, he is one of the most beautiful dogs most people have ever seen. His eyes, still that golden green look into yours as he 'gently' takes a cookie or biscuit from your hand.
Rocco's physical scars are gone. But some of his psychological ones remain. If someone rushes him, he moves away from them quickly. If someone rushes toward Stacy, he tries to be brave and place himself between the threat and Stacy, but he's shaking as he does this. And the vet has decided that Rocco isn't a full blooded pit bull. He's an American Bully. (watch the movie "Return To Me to see a Rocco look alike - an American Bully) The breed is a pit mix of sorts, part pit bull, and part American bulldog, the bullies are taller, leaner, with a less formidable mouth.
Rocco isn't a fighter by the way - preferring to avoid harsh conflict with animals and people alike. His cat and dog family at home test his metal and Rocco politely declines any challenges. We pondered this until one day Stacy speculated that Rocco must have looked in a mirror .. and after seen how handsome he turned out - said to himself. "I'm too good looking to be a fighting boy!"
And he is!
Thank you all for helping make Rocco a good citizen - and being gentle with him.
Rocco's birthday is celebrated in Mid September. This - his first birthday - is being celebrated with an everyone welcome pizza party at Crown Music on Sept. 10th at 1:00. Rocco's wish list includes Milk Bones and things that squeak.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROCCO"
Rocco the Birthday Boy.
Please support your local animal shelter - and please remember Rocco's Amazing Story.
Written by Marilynne Rapp at Crown Music
As she tells it, destiny stepped in, as a dusty looking homeless man suddenly appeared, shuffling along while pushing his possession loaded shopping cart down the street. Stacy stopped him and asked if he could help her. She gave him her cell phone and said that she was going to climb into the yard to rescue the pup, (that from a distance resembled the generic pit bulls that are filling the local dog pounds these days) She asked that if other dogs suddenly appeared from the house and attacked her, that he call 911. He replied that he was on his way to lunch - so his time was limited. (okay ... strange response from a homeless guy, but TRUE) Stacy promised to buy him lunch if he'd delay his meal a few minutes and he agreed.
It took some wrangling but she got over the fence and over to the coop. A close look revealed that the pup was probably around 12 weeks of age. He was frightened but with little space to escape her, she was able to catch him and lift him past the barbed wire (that had already deeply punctured his shoulders and neck as he'd evidently attempted numerous escapes).
Holding him close, she realized he was burning up with a temperature. Simultaneously he quit struggling and just laid against her. At that moment, a woman from a neighboring home appeared and demanded to know what Stacy was doing. Stacy held the pup tightly to her and explained she was rescuing him. The woman in turn complained that the pup had been screaming for days, and that she had tossed a handful of kibble and some water in a bucket into the yard five days earlier but had not done anything since. Stacy took note of the empty bucket that was totally out of reach for where the pup had been trapped. The sun had long since evaporated the water so even if the pup had been able to reach it, he'd have found it empty. Indignation overtook Stacy and she had words with the woman, regarding the inhumane situation, the 'inaccessible' water and bits of food meaning nothing. It was likely that the pigeons had eaten whatever food she may or may not have tossed in earlier that week, and they were also likely waiting for the pup to die, since pigeons and other birds can and do scavenge dead animals.
The woman - not finding a sympathetic ear regarding the 'howling' she'd endured all week, left - and Stacy climbed back over the fence with the pup in her arms. After giving the homeless man a nice allowance for lunch, she got into her truck with the pup and headed straight back to the store. Five minutes later, I heard a knock and when I opened the door, I was shocked by the sight. A rail thin, bloody, wounded white and brown pup - bald in the face from what would later be diagnosed as mange - lay limp against her chest. His observant eyes were the only clue that he was really alive. Stacy, somewhere between furious and concerned handed the pup over to me and immediately called animal control, telling them to meet her outside our store so they could follow her to a house that may contain untold numbers of abandoned animals, including dozens of cats and possibly some dogs.
We laid the pup down in our back lounge/kitchen area, and filled an empty bowl with water. At first he just looked at it. We gave him some on his nose, and then he began to drink just a little He'd drink a few licks, then lay his head down for a bit, then drink some more... and rest. This went on and on until the animal rescue people arrived and then Stacy took them to the abandoned house. I continued to monitor the too quiet pup and gently petted his head. His temperature felt through the roof and then I noticed a lot of black dots on him. I ran my hand over his back and neck. Fleas, and worse yet, swollen ticks bulged under his chin, in on his back, belly, around his neck, and even in his ears...I think his golden green eyes were the one thing that gave me hope. But still, he'd just look at me, and lay his head back down.
Stacy came back, having told the rescue people that the pup was staying with us. They had ruled out any more pups being on the property but had to call for more help in getting the cats out of there. Stacy - having done all she could now placed her attention back on the pup. Before I could tell her not to, she picked him up and held him close to comfort him. I explained the black dots were fleas and ticks and she put him back down (glaring at me as she found a few 'critters' had already gotten onto her shirt) Together we pulled what we could from the youngster, but it was evident, if he lived, he'd need something effective to kill the parasites. It was also evident that despite his listless condition, he had to have food. He appeared physically starved. Stacy ran to the 99c store near our studio to get some food for him, and I - while she was gone - coaxed two tiny meatballs from a pot luck we'd had into him but he was very weak. (Grandma's method)
He wasn't interested in any food she'd purchased other than the meatballs and those didn't stay down long - not a good sign. He was too sick to recover on his own. It was time to call the vet.
Stacy managed to reach her vet who agreed to wait at his office for her to bring him in as an emergency. The vet later told her that the pup would not have lasted another four hours in that heat, and that when an animal that debilitated - shrieked that strongly for help, it was the 'last ditch' of survival effort. He'd not had an ounce of strength left in him the moment Stacy picked him up.
That was day one for that pup. The vet got more fluids into him, some antibiotics, recommended homeopathic tick dip - if he survived the week.
Stacy already had 4 rescue dogs. Number 5 wasn't an option, but we agreed he had to have a chance at least to live before any decisions were made.
Over the next several days, due to his terrible health and condition, Stacy kept the pup with us daily at Crown Music and at night on a blanket in her cooled garage (away from the healthy dogs). Here at Crown, he'd lay next to the couch in our cool quiet back room area, next to water and food -- eating a bit more each day. For days however, his tail never wagged, he didn't respond to coaxing either, but those beautiful eyes kept watching us.
(I also continued to smuggle real meat to him - risking the upset gut in favor of getting him past his depleted state- and he DID hold it down plus he seem more interested when he saw me going into the fridge next to where he laid).
His bald facial skin and body areas- went from a nasty raw flesh pink, to a less inflamed color of pink, and after a couple of homeopathic flea/tick dips, the fleas and ticks disappeared. His x shaped cuts from the barbed wire also developed healing scabs. He watched us more and more, and on occasion would walk into the front showroom of the store. He also would let himself be led outside the front door to go potty, but he was terrified of going out the back door of the store - too close I think, to his former prison only a hundred yards or so away. He also was afraid of most adult men.
Finally one day - after spending yet another morning in the back lounge of the store, he wandered out and his tail began to wag slightly. Always hanging low - but it still was a wag. His ears also move forward. The next vet visit.. the vet - cautious - decided he might make it after all. And Stacy dubbed him Rosco.
With the problem of likely 'death' receding, a second problem arrived. It was evident that "Rosco" was a pit bull mix. It was also evident by his serious gaze that Rosco wasn't a good name. He became Rocco - and it fit. He was serious looking, and shy but anxious to please, and he was trying to be a good citizen, even in his shy state.
Sadly - however - No adoption shelter wanted him, and even customers - once they saw him - cautioned us that he would be dangerous - possibly vicious - once grown. Even though he was house trained and behaving well, all attempts to find him a home failed. The minute they heard pit mix or saw the shape of his head and mouth, they stepped back with concern. In the interim, his appetite was on the increase, and the mange was getting smaller. His coat was getting shinier, and the scars were healing faster and faster. He also started carrying around a toy rope - and got significantly taller in the next few weeks. And some of our guys did their best to help the pup learn to trust men again. Rich Cabral really worked with him at the store and Stacy's husband Joe did at home. And soon, Rocco would race to the door to see Rich, and then more and more of our clients - men and women both. And as Rocco's fear of humans ebbed, so did our clients and friends fear of the dreaded pit mixes - but still not enough to take Rocco home.
Finally one day, Joe and Stacy decided that Rocco didn't need a home. He would have one at their place and at Crown. Rocco - also had become an organ music lover - and loved coming to work with Stacy, so he was then dubbed our store greeter. Rocco had found his way 'home'. Today, he is one of the most beautiful dogs most people have ever seen. His eyes, still that golden green look into yours as he 'gently' takes a cookie or biscuit from your hand.
Rocco's physical scars are gone. But some of his psychological ones remain. If someone rushes him, he moves away from them quickly. If someone rushes toward Stacy, he tries to be brave and place himself between the threat and Stacy, but he's shaking as he does this. And the vet has decided that Rocco isn't a full blooded pit bull. He's an American Bully. (watch the movie "Return To Me to see a Rocco look alike - an American Bully) The breed is a pit mix of sorts, part pit bull, and part American bulldog, the bullies are taller, leaner, with a less formidable mouth.
Rocco isn't a fighter by the way - preferring to avoid harsh conflict with animals and people alike. His cat and dog family at home test his metal and Rocco politely declines any challenges. We pondered this until one day Stacy speculated that Rocco must have looked in a mirror .. and after seen how handsome he turned out - said to himself. "I'm too good looking to be a fighting boy!"
And he is!
Thank you all for helping make Rocco a good citizen - and being gentle with him.
Rocco's birthday is celebrated in Mid September. This - his first birthday - is being celebrated with an everyone welcome pizza party at Crown Music on Sept. 10th at 1:00. Rocco's wish list includes Milk Bones and things that squeak.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROCCO"
Rocco the Birthday Boy.
Please support your local animal shelter - and please remember Rocco's Amazing Story.
Written by Marilynne Rapp at Crown Music