SAVE A LIFE
In classical astrology the 11th house is referred to as the "House of Good Spirit". The 11th house is the house of friends and brings allies and the strength of a collective stand. As the house of hopes and dreams, this 11th house organization seeks to offer our animal friends all these things: hope for the new day, the dream of a loving home, and friends to stand by their side. At 11th House Rescue they are not alone.
11th House Rescue is a 501c3 certified non-profit founded and run by Ali Lund, a medium specializing in animal communication. The rescue was started as a way to fill the need that she saw for a compassion-based organization offering specialized nutrition and alternative (as well as allopathic) healing.
A balanced approach to rescue, making use of all available tools, in conjunction with love and understanding for the individual: that is our vision.
Get To Know An 11th House Rescue Friend
Leo came to us after being dropped at a shelter with the request that he be euthanized because he was old. And he was old, and his legs were riddled with sores, and he'd never lived in a house. He came into rescue having known very little in the way of love. We were reasonably certain that he would be a hospice case but we thought that whatever time he had left he should be allowed to enjoy.
Leo flourished with us. His skin issues disappeared, he house trained like a champion and oh-my-gosh was he in love with the real food diet that we provide. He came with us on walks, often times making it 2.5 miles at a time -- no small feat for a senior citizen with no previous history of exercise -- and on the days he was too sore to walk he rode in the back of the golf cart wearing a big goofy smile.
Each night before bed we took short walks around the yard, that being the only time he'd do his business, and only if his person was in attendance. He was loathe to let humans out of his sight after so many years of loneliness, so we kept him company while he pooped.
Five months after Leo came to us, he woke up one morning partially paralyzed and we had to say goodbye. We took him out onto the front lawn and sat with him while we waited for the vet to come. He ate sandwiches and we said goodbye under the kind of blue sky that makes you glad to have lived.
At the moment there are no events planned, but if you have any ideas for, or would like to help with, fundraising PLEASE contact us!
Right now we are working to cultivate foster homes and funds as we can only help as many animals as we have the space and money for. So that means in order to expand our reach Ali will be personally taking less dogs and cats so she can concentrate on the above stated goals. If you or someone you know would like to foster or volunteer (Sheba would love walks) please contact us!
Help us grow love!
In Loving Memory
April 11, 2019
Bruce was a geriatric old black and tan hound mutt who weighed in at 35 lbs. He was a spit fire. I can only imagine what he was like in his younger days as he was older than dirt when we met and still raring to go. Seriously guys, so old. This little old man had to have been the product of a lot of neglect because he knew a whole lot of nothing, unless you count getting incredibly excited at dinner time as a talent. Which I do. He was incredibly gifted.
Here's what we knew for sure. Bruce was picked up as a stray in Utah. They thought he was dying as he was skin and bones. He was brought to the shelter and given a bath and some food.
Well it turns out that he was not, in fact, dying. He was just really hungry. 11th House Rescue of Dillon, MT found out he was going to be euthanized due to over-crowding in the shelter and the rest, as they say, is history.
Bruce was never potty trained, he did not know how to sit, stay or come. He was almost completely deaf and maybe just a little bit near sighed. He was also balding a bit (on his bum), as old men are wont to do (I suppose old men typically bald at the other end but Bruce was an old man like no other and he refused to be bound by the rules of nature, or anyone else for that matter).
He had only moderate garbage breath and did not know how to properly kick a hind leg when his bum was scratched right. Instead of waggling a leg he danced back and forth and had what appeared to be an epileptic seizure of the hind end only. Once he'd wound himself up good and proper he’d take off running, leaving you scratching thin air. As I said before, Bruce was bound by no man's rules and as such he would have his butt scratched his own way.
Bruce also did not know how to chew a bone -- presumably due to having never been offered such meaty goodness before. We remedied that, though. He left us an accomplished bone connoisseur. Burying them was his specialty.
And holy cow was he DIRTY. I gave him baths but his choice of sleeping arrangements rendered bathing null and void. He was the proud owner of a grade A, top notch, insulated doggie house (seriously, it weighed a ton) complete with luxury bedding. He slept in the dirt. Bruce was an asshole -- but one must respect his laissez-faire asshole-itude. Living by no man's rules was a dirty job.
Here's what Bruce did well; being Bruce.
Every now and again someone walks into your life, someone unexpected but welcome all the same, and they teach you things that you never knew you needed to learn. Old Brucie was that for me. He taught me to better work with others, because sometimes people are who they are, and it isn’t always easy, and you don’t always love every piece of it, but that doesn’t detract from the beauty of the whole. Brucie was a beautiful little old man. He never expected others to change and it never occurred to him to change himself. He was Bruce. Little, old, dirty, fierce and so so loving. To watch him limp across the yard to say hello to me was enough to bring a tear. He didn’t feel the pain of whatever old injury left him with a gimp in his shoulder… all he felt was love for his favorite woman; bringer of food and bones, picker of poo, giver of butt scratches. He never wasted time giving much thought to the pain because it was secondary to the love.
Brucie left us today -- because even indestructible old men don’t last forever. He came to us for short-term hospice care, and even that he did his own way because it took him two years to die. And for that I’m so very grateful. He knew I still had things to learn and that he was just the old man to teach me. Those 2 years feel like a lifetime. We all love you and you will be missed. Thank you for the love and for the lessons, for the new depths of understanding that you brought to my life, my friend. Bless you on your next adventure, wherever it takes you. And, of course, rest in peace.