Rusty’s story is one of cruelty.
He was approximately 6-months-old,
badly beaten, and discovered in someone’s backyard.
He had been hit on the head with a shovel, and
left to die. By the time I received him, I knew
he wasn’t going to survive. I called every
emergency veterinarian clinic in the area seeking
treatment for him, but none would take him without a wildlife permit–
I explained that I had a wildlife
permit, but then they just made up other excuses.
Realizing that the only thing I could do was make
him comfortable, that’s what I did. I created a
comfy bed in my room for him, played peaceful
music constantly, and sat by his side until he
passed away. I know he appreciated not having to
die in the hot sun, in his abuser’s backyard, and
all alone. I love you Rusty and you’ll always be
remembered.
Love,
Rusty |
Elizabeth |