How a Dog Named Max Helped Me Understand Homeless Pet Owners

A true story by Shannon Schwartz

I live in a small town in rural East Texas. When I lived in a suburb of a large nearby city, I had no idea there were so many stray and abandoned dogs. I guess people who live in suburban areas are more sheltered from what goes on in the country. People dump dogs out here, and a lot of them don't really care about what happens to them. If 'Old Blue' bounces out of the back of their pickup truck, they don't even realize it. If they do, maybe they'll stop, but they probably won't go to the vet.

My husband and I moved out here six years ago. We had one dog. We were shocked by all the homeless animals running around, and we decided to do something about it. I started volunteering full-time at a local no-kill shelter. When they were full, we took in as many as we could, while understanding our limits and not becoming collectors. We spend thousands of dollars annually in vet bills, and we are still finding dogs and trying to negotiate and bribe their way into the best shelters. My husband says I have "dog radar." If there's a dog wandering on a highway, I never miss it. I'm the person who begs to pet your dog when you take him out in public. I can always spot a dog.

So it's no surprise when I saw two people with their little Rottweiler puppy sitting on the curb at our nearby general store. They were a young couple that looked to be in their late teens or early twenties. They had two backpacks and a big laundry bag, and the man was holding a sign that said, "Going to Corsicana." Because I can't see a dog and not want to love on it (especially a puppy!), I approached the people. Their dog's name was Max, and they were trying to get to the nearby town of Corsicana. They said they wanted to find a campground or some place to stay while they found work. I have to admit I was in shock. I had never really talked to homeless people before. It never occurred to me that they would have pets. Without committing to the people, I ran back to our car to ask my husband if we could please take Max and his people to Corsicana, which is about 40 miles from where we were. He obviously thought I was insane. "We are not picking up homeless hitchhikers," was his response. By this time, he was immune to my tearful pleas of, "But they have a dog!" His opinion was that we do enough to help dogs on a daily basis. Some other person could help this small homeless family.

In a move that to this day infuriates my husband when he recalls it, I went back over to Max and his people and told them I would be back to take them to Corsicana after I dropped off my husband. What can I say? I'm stubborn to no end when it comes to dogs, and I can tell you with certainty that I would have completely ignored these people had they not had little Max.

When my husband and I arrived at our house, I told him I forgot to buy something at the store. He didn't notice the dog bowl, water bowl, and bag of food that I grabbed to take with me. I went back for Max and his people. I bought them each a soft drink and fed, watered, and walked Max. I asked them what they had been feeding Max. They said that they bought him dog food when they could, but he ate whatever they did. The girl was terribly skinny, and she said that she had been living off of Max's scraps. Knowing from experience how much puppies eat, I asked them how often they ate. They said once a day. It was obvious that Max wasn't getting the nutrition he needed, but he was very loved and seemed to be a normal, happy, floppy puppy. Imagine someone so hungry feeding her dog before she allowed herself to eat. The young couple and Max got into the car, and we headed to Corsicana.

On the way, I have to admit that I bombarded them with questions. After all, it was my first encounter with homeless people where I actually interacted with them, and I was curious. They had traveled from Florida to Texas, where the man had family. They were making their way down to see if his family was still alive, as they'd had no contact. They planned to ask for help once they reached San Antonio, but they were in no hurry. They seemed to like the freedom of traveling, and they didn't seem that worried about where they would get their next meal.

Max changed all of that. The last people who helped them let the couple stay in their barn. They bred all kinds of puppies that they took to a big flea market to sell. The couple said the pups were neglected and mistreated, so they snuck off in the middle of the night with Max, who they thought they could provide a better life. Because they had actually stolen Max, they wouldn't tell me where his real owner lived. I had mixed feelings. I don't think it's right to steal a dog, but with my rescue background, I understand wanting to help mistreated animals. It was amazing to me that people who had no idea how they would be able to eat that night would think of the welfare of a puppy and take on that responsibility.

The man was clearly worried about taking proper care of the dog, and it seemed to be a sore spot between the two. He felt the pressure of settling somewhere and finding a job to support his young girlfriend and Max. This, I think, is the point when I knew that I wasn't going to simply drop off the couple and their dog at another store. We went to a grocery store in Corsicana where I took them on a small shopping spree.

We bought food, soap, shampoo, a collar, a leash, and of course, dog food. We then found a nearby hotel that accepted dogs and I paid in advance for a week for them to stay. I don't think my husband knows about that, but I guess he will when he reads this.

I was still very worried about Max. They had no idea if he had been vaccinated, and he was about three months old. In Texas, we have to give heartworm prevention year round, and he would soon be at the age where it was a concern. I asked them what they would do, and they said they didn't know. I think it was more their age and inexperience than the fact that they were homeless. They just didn't think about those things before they decided to add Max to their family. I begged the young girl to let me find an actual home for Max. She burst into tears and told me, "He's all I have." She clearly loved the puppy, and I'm sure he brightened many days that would otherwise be bleak and hopeless.

The next day, I picked up the couple (and Max) and we headed to my vet, where Max was wormed and vaccinated. He was covered in fleas, so I bought them a 6-month supply of Frontline and Heartgard, and told them when to start the heartworm prevention. Since they had no permanent address, we just added Max to my vet account. My vet was concerned, and he, too, asked the young couple if they would like him to help find a nice home for Max where he would be spoiled rotten. The man said that he had begged his girlfriend several times. Her response was that she would beg or steal to make sure she took proper care of Max.

At this point, I had spent a tidy sum on Max and his people. I just couldn't do any more, and my husband was already furious. When I dropped them off at their hotel, I wished them luck and said goodbye. I came back home to a three-hour lecture on how I could have been raped and murdered picking up people I didn't know. He was right, of course. .But they had a dog!

I often wonder what became of the young couple and their puppy. I wonder how many others were more inclined to help them because of Max. I asked how they would carry the giant bag of dog food I bought them, and the man simply said he'd find a way.

Three months later, I received a call from my vet. It seems the Corsicana pound had picked up a Rottie running loose and his tag had my vet's name on it. I went straight to the Corsicana Animal Shelter to find a skinny (but still friendly), great big Rottie pup who came to me when I called him Max. Unlike a lot of rural animal shelters, the people at this pound were great. They offered to help me find him a home, but my first instinct was to take him straight to my vet. After all, I had a houseful of dogs that I didn't want to contaminate.

When we got to the vet, the receptionist fell in love instantly when I taught Max to sit in the waiting room. He was obviously brilliant, and she wanted him. After his check-up (he needed to put on a few pounds, but he was otherwise fine), we took Max to her house to introduce him to her other dog. They got along beautifully. The next day, Max was transferred to her vet account, and she tells me every time I see her how smart and lovable he is.

I often wonder about the circumstances surrounding the decision the homeless people made to let Max go. They were obviously attached to him. Perhaps it just hit them one day that they couldn't care for him. Maybe they couldn't get rides with such a large dog. Maybe something happened to them. I'm not sure, but I believe that it was the immense love the girl had for her dog that tipped the scales. I believe that she knew that he would be better off in a more stable environment. Maybe if they stayed in one place, it would have been easier for them and they would still have Max. I'm not sure that I think homeless people can provide the necessary care for pets, but I saw the sacrifice this couple made for their dog. Maybe Max would have been sold at that flea market to someone who would have used him in dog fights (or worse). Having a homeless owner is certainly better than a stray trying to stay alive alone on the streets.

Luckily, my story has a happy ending. Max is a pampered pooch, and I didn't have any problems with the homeless couple. I did get some insight into being homeless. I understand a little about what it would be like to still have to care for my furry children without any stability. I guess it could happen to any of us. What would you do?