Secondhand Pups

Those of you that live in the Livingston, TX, area, please help the Cleveland Texas Pound Pup Volunteers and Networking. We don’t have a pound locally that allows volunteers, but the Cleveland pound allows folks to help. They’re a great organization!

🌲Message our page through messenger and include your phone number to volunteer Monday - Thursday this week at the pound. 🧝‍♀️fill your heart with dog joy 💕🐾

For Saturday and Sunday volunteering, please sign up at the link in the bottom of our post 🙏🏻

Come volunteer at the city of Cleveland, Texas pound Saturdays at 9am and Sundays at 2pm. Sign up at the link below, sign up dates that work for you🐾 We also need weekday volunteers at 4pm, message our page through messenger with your phone number to be added to our weekday volunteer text message 🙏🏻

For more information about volunteering weekday early evenings, please message our page through messenger and include your phone number. And for more information about fostering and adopting please message our page through messenger 🐾





Use this link for Dec dates please > https://www.signupgenius.com/go/10C0548A4A92CABFFC70-60052702-volunteers

This dog waited 198 days. He was allowed to live in the shelter for 198 days before he was adopted. That wouldn’t happen at the Livingston, TX, holding facility. Evidently, the
powers-that-be planned to euthanize 22 dogs as soon as the ACO returned to work. Another deception by LPD.

They were all saved, thanks to Angelica InRescue. If you’d like to help them with boarding these 22 souls that were saved, please contact her page. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.

For 198 days, Charlie waited.
He did not bark for attention. He did not jump. He sat there, eyes softly searching, heart silently hoping.
Every day, families arrived and left. They smiled at the puppies. They cooed at the little ones. What about Charlie? He was consistently "too big," "too shy," or "just not the right fit."
He watched them all leave—one by one—and with each farewell that wasn't his, his spark faded.
He stopped rushing to the front of the kennel.
He stopped dreaming aloud.
Instead, he snuggled into the same corner, on the same old blanket, clutching a glimmer of hope like it was a secret only he knew about.

And then, on day 198, she arrived.
She responded not with enthusiasm or clamor, but with calm and a softness in her eyes that indicated understanding. She strolled passed every cage, every lovely, waving tail, until she came across his.
She didn't ask any questions.
She bent down, looked into his sleepy eyes, and murmured, "Hey, buddy..." I see you. "Let us go home."
Charlie did not move at first. He was terrified of believing it. However, when the kennel door opened and the leash was softly clipped on, he followed. He felt a glimmer of hope that he hadn't felt in months: maybe. Just maybe.

The automobile journey was silent. He sat next to her, unaware of what this meant. But halfway down the highway, she leaned over and touched his face in her hand, tenderly and affectionately, as if he were already hers.
That's when his tail shifted.
Only once. Then again.
Then his entire body relaxed into her.
Because, for the first time in 198 days, Charlie was seen.
He was not "too much."
He was picked.
And this ride? It wasn't limited to a single house.
It was to the point of being overlooked.
The end of the stillness.
Finally, the wait is over.
A sense of belonging is a universal desire.
Someone to trust.
A reason to wag again.
He's not just heading home.
He finally has one.