Mid-Atlantic German Shepherd Rescue Heroes (410)644-7763
	(A Registered 501(c)3 Non-Profit Organization)
	Serving the Maryland, DC, and Northern Virginia areas

Of Bobbies and Angels

One of our own, Bob Binau, has recently gone to the Rainbow Bridge to be with his special friend
It is truly an amazing coincidence that the two gentlemen we honor here are both named Bob...

Bob and everybody
(fosters Sasha, Harley and Chance,
along with Bob and Susan's own dogs in the foreground)

The following account was submitted by one of our rescue members in remembrance of Bob Binau:

Bob Binau and Susan fostered a dog from the local shelter. Susan thinks the dog had been taken from a drug house, and

may have been fed drugs. It had extreme separation anxiety. Since it had not been wormed yet, they crated it in

the basement away from the family pets. It was scared and cried a lot, so Bob took a blanket downstairs and slept

on the floor with the dog to keep it company.

The same dog finally was allowed upstairs with the family pets after it was wormed and vaccinated...well it wasn't

able to sleep in the bedroom - maybe the family dogs wouldn't let it in. It was scared and afraid to be alone, and

would cry. So Bob slept on the living room sofa each night, with his legs curled up, and the foster dog at his feet.

He did it for a few months until the dog was adopted.

That's the kind of heart Bob had, and the kind of sensitivity and patience he had for homeless animals. We really

need so many more like that.

Bob and Sammy
Missing you, Bob!

From a burlap bag to a bona fide "Angel"

An animal advocate friend from Washington State sent us the following saga of two angels, and we though it so touching as to warrant addition to our web site:

This is Bobby Walker's German Shepherd Dog. Angel was rescued and
adopted, saved from a terribly abusive home when she was on Death's
door. Read Bobby's touching account of how he fell in love with Angel
and came to be her life-long companion. A copy of his story is posted
below, as well as where originally posted:
The German Shepherd Dog Bulletin Board,
(Go to BB Topic: Stories, Humor, Anecdotes)
Bobby can be reached at guns@structurex.net
and a web page has been set up at
http://www.geocities.com/babysistw2/angel.html

NOTE: The final picture is a terribly grotesque and sad sight. It
was what she looked like when found and rescued.

Bobby's First Posting at the GSD BB: [Date of rescue approx. Nov. '98]

"Two months ago an article appeared in The Lake Charles American Press. It was front page. I
discontinued the paper years ago. Had it not been for a lady friend reading the article I probably would
not have known about it. But, knowing how I felt about dogs, she called and read this to me. At the top
of the article was this picture of what was once a beautiful German Shepherd female, approximately 4
years old. The story related her plight. She was owned by a drug dealer who was wanted on several
attempted murder charges as well as myriad related crimes. This drug dealer, upon questioning,
admitted he didn't care a damn about dogs. He had acquired this Shepherd in some sort of drug deal
and just chained her up to this post and left her out there so that she would give a warning bark if
someone approached. A tip to the local Sheriff's Department informed them this subject had returned
to the mobile home where he resided from time to time. Both law enforcement agencies converged on
the location and arrested the man without incident. While looking over the property one of the
Deputies apparently spotted in the distance what appeared to be an old burlap bag tied at one end with a
chain. Closer examination revealed what was, in fact, not a burlap bag but this terribly neglected and
emaciated dog.

"It was later determined she was an 80-87 pound animal at one time past. Now, however, when
transported to the Downtown Animal Hospital and laid on a scale she tipped the scales at 32 pounds.
She was minutes away from death at the moment she was rescued. It was determined she had not been
fed in 4 to 6 weeks. Her liquid came from a scooped out indention in the bare earth. At the time of
rescue there was a handful of mud in the cistern. She was carried, chain and all, to the hospital. It was
impossible to remove the chain due to the fact the flesh around her neck had grown over the chain in
places. Later the chain was surgically removed.

"Upon arrival at D.A.H., she was immediately placed on I.V. fluids since she was too weak to chew
even a morsel of wet bread. She was so pitifully mal -nourished she would remain on nothing but I.V.
fluids for two weeks. I was at her side initially two days after her arrival and several times a week
thereafter. When I first saw her and knelt down by her kennel to speak to her, her only sign of
recognition was a faint movement of her tail. I began crying so deeply some of the staff came in to the
room and helped me to a nearby chair. Angel and I became friends. The newspaper article had such an
impact on the public that money was coming in to the Animal Hospital from places even outside the
parish. Children wrote letters to her. Other people delivered blankets, chew bones, get well cards and
all sorts of gifts too numerous to mention. The Doctor's Staff was overwhelmed stating that they had
never witnessed such a profound outpouring of public sentiment and love in their tenure as Vets. As it
turned out, enough money was donated to cover her entire stay at the hospital, her heart worm
treatment, all shots and a case of Science Diet food.

"They named her Angel. Angel began to respond to the treatment. Finally one day she stood on all four
legs, wobbled then fell. Wasn't ready yet. Subsequent examination revealed a MASSIVE case of heart
worms. Along about that time they also discovered Angel had a severe infection deep inside BOTH ear
canals. It would seem she should have already BEEN dead several times over. But, Angel wanted to
live!! And LIVE SHE DID! By now my interest in Angel had deepened into a strong emotional bond.
One which I treasured. I loved on her each time I would visit. I petted her. I cooed in her stinky old
ears and stroked her broken, thin frame. Her hair came off in great handsful. The Doctor told me this
was a natural manifestation of any human or animal who had gone through extreme trauma. Huge
open sores appeared on each shoulder and hip joint. The bone was visible. I asked why. They informed
me that there was so little flesh between the joint and the skin that the bones just broke through,
tearing large gaping holes. More pain for Angel. But as I would weep over her pain racked body she
would gaze up at me with those large soulful eyes, laboriously breathing and communicate to me that
she appreciated and loved me. She never howled nor murmured because of the anguish and pain which
assailed her every moment. She had been hurt, neglected, beaten and starved since she came into this
world. To her, pain was just a way of life and something to be tolerated. It was the way it should be.
Apparently no one, man, woman nor child, had ever lovingly caressed her, cradled her head in their
lap and told her what a sweet dog she was. My attention to her was a new experience. And she adored
it! She was responding to my love. She was getting well. Yes, she was going to LIVE!!

"One day I was prompted to inquire what lay in store for Angel assuming she recovered. The Doctor
informed me she would be put up for adoption. The Humane Shelter would be in charge of placing her.
I made some calls and found out how to throw my hat into the ring and "get in line" .The Animal
Shelter mailed an application to me. They told me by telephone to not be too discouraged if I weren't
chosen in view of the fact there were over 2 dozen applicants already. (But what they didn't know was
that I had already asked the ONE who made Angel to please give her to me.) heheheheheheheh...IT
WAS DECIDED BEFORE I SENT IN THE APPLICATION!!!! The paper work was just a formality.
Sure enough, the lady called me immediately upon opening my application. She had it unfolded before
her when she called and informed me I had been chosen as Angel's daddy. Yes!! You guessed it. This
240 pound man who has fought his way out of more bar rooms than can be remembered broke down
AGAIN!! I wept openly with joy. My heart was bursting with gratitude.

"Angel weighed 52 pounds the day I brought her home. I took her back eight days later and she
weighed 63. It was then they told me they were going to have to address the heart worm problem and
gave me a date to bring her back to the hospital. (Last Thursday). The Doctors spoke guardedly of the
prognosis and advised me the procedure would be tricky. I had her there first thing that morning.
They administered 4 major doses of Arsenic (2 each day) Thursday & Friday. I picked her up
Saturday morning and brought her back home. Saturday night it seemed Angel was barely alive. I
called the Vet and was instructed to bring her immediately to the hospital. Upon arrival the Doctor
gave her a shot which offset whatever problem Angel was having. It seems the heart worms head
immediately for the lungs as they begin to feel the effects of the poison. It is in the lungs that they die.
Eventually they are absorbed and will exit the body through excrement. The treatment itself rarely is
cause for concern. It is the post treatment period when death will occur. There is a highly critical
time frame of approximately 6 weeks following the Arsenic treatment when the animal can die in a
matter of minutes if they become too warm or too excited. Therefore it is vital I keep Angel quiet, cool
and immobile for at least a month, allowing her outside only long enough to relieve herself. At any
rate, the Doctor called yesterday and told me Angel had passed the first crisis point and that I could
come and get her. She is now home. She is laid out on two thick soft rugs with her food and water at
the tip of her wet nose. I need only walk into the gun room and she struggles to her feet, tail wagging
and beautiful eyes searching for a movement of either hand to give her a soft stroke on her head.
Angel adores me, Sid.

"Several people have mentioned to me in passing what a "fine man I am for taking on such a
responsibility and how fortunate this dog is.". I am quick to tell them that I, Bobby Walker, am the
lucky one. Because not a moment passes that I am not blessed beyond words as I look upon what was
once a defeated, heartbroken and shattered life, now, ever so slowly emerging into a fine animal. I will
see her completely healed some day. She will stand tall and proud, shoulders squared, all physical
scars long since obscured by a thick lavish coat of black, brown and tan hair and all emotional scars
will have been completely smothered by human love because a man who happened into her tortured life
refused to give up on her."

Bobby's 2nd Posting on the GSD BB:

"My initial story on Angel is quite incomplete. Lest anyone draw the wrong picture let me give you the
current version. The first account took place a year ago. Angel is now 83 pounds. She does what she
wants, when she wants, sleeps with me, either walks with me or follows at my heels.
Angel welcomes everyone who comes into my shop. Her disposition is faultless and her countenance
is majestic. Her one physical flaw is her deformed left ear. During the months and months of the
unattended ear infection she continually clawed at her ear until the cartelage broke down.
As long as I live, she will never wear a collar nor be kept outside."

Bobby's latest Posting on the GSD BB: (11 January, 2000)

"Hi GSD Gang! Just a note to keep Angel before you. Please know that she is doing FINE! I suspect I am
going to have to trim her diet, however. I took her to the vet yesterday for ..oh....you know....just a
"check-up". Nothing at all wrong with her. I just want the medical people to keep her under scrutiny for
another 6 months. The doc. keeps tellimg me there is nothing at all wrong with her and that I am
spending $$ for nothing. With 3 other dogs the annual vet bill is pretty healthy as it is.
Angel has begun "groaning". When she lies down and stretches out she will give out with this
low-pitched, deep-in-the-throat, single breath groan. I have decided it is the canine version of the
sound some people make when they crawl into the king size after a long day. I do it myself. Flat on my
back with arms reaching to the headboard and feet streched as far south as possible I have this sort
of primal moan/groan thing I do. MAN!! It feels so great. It feels almost as good as sneezing. But, I
suspect Angel is doing that too. I don't know if she remembers her life of horror and occassionally
compares that to her present surrondings. If this is possible then I know well what she is saying when
she groans. "OH!!! This is so MUCH better".

"I gotta tell you what happened. As some of you know, I am a Gunsmith, Repairman, Refinisher, etc. I
have my shop located right here in my home. One day shortly after Angel had begun to feel a little of
her strength returning she tippy-toed into my work shop. I was sitting with my back to her, mentally
immersed in the project which lay before me and completely oblivious to anything else. She walked up
behind me, reared up on hind legs and put one paw on each of my shoulders. It so startled me that I
jumped, yelled and spun around on my stool all at the same time. This dislodged her paws from my
shoulders so that they landed in my lap when I faced her. Again, she put her paws up on my shoulders,
this time putting us eye-to-eye with each other, her nose a scant inch or two from mine. With those
beautiful brown eyes she gazed directly into mine, never blinking nor shifting her line of sight. In
retrospect it couldn't have lasted for more than 10 seconds although at the time it seemed like a full
minute. We were motionless and transfixed. The rest of anything did not exist to either of us. As lucid
as a southern summer moon was the fact Angel was communicating something to me. In my heart, she
said: "Thank you for all of this. You have shown me a life I never knew existed. I love you!" Well, I said
to her: "I love you too Angel". Immediately, she stepped back and dropped her front paws first to my
lap, then the floor, turned and lumbered off to the den. I made the mistake of wasting this account on
a gun customer one day. He just guffawed and told me I was imagining too much. You people are the
only others I have mentioned this to. There is something sacred about a dog/human relationship.
Things often happen between them which, if told to another, will seem like utter hogwash. But nobody
in the world will ever convince me my Angel and I didn't communicate that day. I am 65 years of age,
well traveled and well educated; an accomplished musician and have a degree in Mechanical Design. I
am no dummy and will not buy into anything unless I believe in it. Dogs DO think, love, appreciate,
hurt, know lonliness and despair, appreciate a good meal, covet a stroke and kind word from their
master and, above all, know how to tell you if you are tuned in."

Last modified by Brian on July 16, 2001

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