In February, I was helping put on a retreat out in the country. I was headed into town to buy groceries and saw a forlorn figure sitting in the middle of the rural road. I jammed on the brakes and went back to coax him to the side. He came to me. He was a basset mix and had no collar. I knew the area and didn’t recognize him, so I put him in the car.

I got my groceries and went back to welcome the people coming on retreat. I’d asked the people at the office if anyone knew the hound; nobody did. Said hound spent the weekend with us and came home with me. A trip to the vet’s determined he had a name—Jackson—and a phone number but they would not release the info. They called and left a message. Nobody called back. The vet office called a few more times and no response. A week later some teenagers where I’d found Jackson said he’d been dumped.

Great news! Because by now we were in love with Jackson. Bad news: we’re retired, on a modest income, and already had a little Spaniel that was stretching our budget. We paid for all the initial vaccinations, but when his blood work revealed heartworm and we were presented with an estimate of $1,100.00 we about fainted.

We were still stewing about what to do when I saw a little news story about Emancipet in the neighborhood newsletter. I called and they said they could do Jackson’s treatment for about a third of what the vet asked. Plus, the protocol was exactly the same as the vet’s, so Jackson wasn’t shortchanged in any way.

He was under treatment within two days and is just now finishing his last week of confinement before I buy him a tux front and a bow tie and we’re going to dazzle the neighborhood on our first walk in ten weeks.

We love this dog, and we love Emancipet. We are so grateful for your wonderful work.