From Unwanted to Unforgettable: The Remarkable Journey of a Dog Named Casey
“On Tuesday night, we found out that our neighbor had returned his 11-month-old “Dalmatian” to the shelter because he was frustrated with the dog’s behavior. By Wednesday, I called both local shelters, but neither had him. That evening, I talked to the neighbor, who gave me his original adoption papers, but the receipt with the updated info—so I could take him—was missing. On Thursday, the shelter finally admitted the dog was there but wouldn’t let me see him until the next day.
Why was I so determined to save this dog? The previous Friday, he had shown up in the rain, sniffing around my garbage. When I stepped onto the porch, he ran over and did a perfect “sit” at my feet, looking up at me with big eyes. He had a collar but no tags and smelled really bad. I leashed him on the porch and went inside to make a sign, hoping to find his owner.
A little while later, I heard loud banging on my screen door—he had broken his collar to follow me! I had to leave for work, so I woke my husband and asked him to give the dog a bath and keep an eye on him. That day, the dog played happily with our two dogs, Toby and Megan.
That evening, a neighbor helped me find his owner, who complained about the dog’s bad behavior—like rolling in poop, escaping his leash, and making messes. The poor dog looked so sad while he was being yelled at and called “Spots.”
I offered to share training videos and help, but we didn’t hear anything back—until Tuesday, when the owner returned the videos and told my husband he had taken Spots back to the shelter. At just 11 months old, this dog was now looking for his third home.
He had been so great with us and had formed a special bond with Toby, our smaller dog. I knew he deserved better, so I decided to get him out of the shelter—even if it meant finding him a new home myself.
On Friday, I was finally allowed to visit him. After a strange delay—where he had to “prove” he could handle being in a cage by pooping in one—I was taken to the meeting room at 3 PM.
The moment he saw me, he squealed, ran up, and hugged me, burying his face in my neck. He remembered me! Then something amazing happened. I called, “Spots, come!”—but he didn’t listen. When I said, “Casey, come!” he turned, ran over, and sat perfectly at my feet. That was the name I had used a week earlier, and he had claimed it as his own.
That day, Casey became part of our family. For nine wonderful years, he filled our home with love, laughter, and fun. He and Toby had a special routine of howling together every evening—until the day Casey passed away from a brain tumor at age 9. After that, Toby never howled again.
Casey’s time with us was too short, but he made a huge impact. He was the dog no one wanted, but he became the dog we could never forget.”
Sometimes, the ones who need love the most become our greatest treasures. Never underestimate the power of a second chance.
