The ASPCA’s Battered Puppy Placed In Our Care

If you’re a 10-pound teddy bear kind of puppy, survival and welfare depend upon loving parents. After a thorough probing of our credentials, this guy was placed in our care. My wife, Toni, was a top breeder and exhibitor of standard  and toy poodles with plenty of Best-In-Shows in her column. 

Our new charge had been battered by his past owner, a woman who had flung him off a Central Park bridge. He was saved by New York’s finest. We renamed him Elijah. His hospital stay for two months and multiple surgeries repaired his many injuries. 

Elijah took a swift look around our bedroom and decided he had himself a good deal. Finally, he sleeps in our bed, sandwiched between myself and Toni. If I reach out to touch my wife, I’d get a warning growl not to do any more. Elijah gets along with our 3 toys and our very friendly standard poodle. Our Sasha believes he was put with us for play round-the-clock. 

In Elijah’s recent rehabilitation, the ASPCA played a hands on, most benevolent role in rehabilitation of our guy. It took months. My experience with this institution dates back decades. Goldman Sachs, their investment advisor, had chosen us as their money manager. It was not exactly a bucolic experience. 

Goldman whipped us over performance numbers, however good. We, in turn, would pound the table and tell the others that the ASPCA overhead expenses were too high compared with their revenues. ASPCA would fight back. Goldie became the peacemaker in this standoff. There were no animals in this picture, just Boardroom muscle flexors. 

My own experience with dogs and the ASPCA dates back to when I was nine years old. Kids living in Mount Airy, Croton-on-Hudson used Kaplan pond as their swimming hole. 

Later on, I managed part of Jack Kaplan‘s stock portfolio. A bunch of us, 10-year olds, frolicked.  A hound dog we named Wanda, would jump in the pond between us. Wanda would plunge off the lake's retaining wall to stay in the action. 

One afternoon, Wanda followed me home. My mother took one look at this stray and told me Wanda couldn’t stay. Mom called the ASPCA next morning. They came with a long leash and led her away. In such hard times, late 1930’s, the ASPCA was unable to carry strays. Nowadays, ASPCA protocol is loving and serious. They placed our Elijah in New York’s Animal Medical Center and footed the bill for a 2 month stay. 

I never forgave my mother for her harsh edict. Her response was she couldn’t afford to feed a dog. 

Ever since, dogs, then dressage horses have filled my years. Elijah could be my ultimate animal relationship.  After all, he’s pushing 14 months, but I’m 93.