09/02/2026
There are some dogs whose stories need to be told. Mitch is one of them.
For most of his life, Mitch was painted in darkness. He was labeled dangerous. He had allegations against him. He had bitten people. He and a four-month-old puppy named Franny became involved in a terrible incident, and from that point forward, there were people who believed Mitch’s life should simply end.
But there was so much more to Mitch than what was written on a piece of paper.
Mitch came from an unstable, loud and abusive environment. The humans who were supposed to teach him how to live in this world instead gave him very little chance to succeed.
Six and a half years ago, attorneys fighting for Mitch and Franny believed there was something worth saving. We believed it too, and Make A Difference Rescue stepped forward.
We knew his history. We respected it. We didn’t pretend it didn’t exist.
We gave Mitch something different.
Consistency. Structure. Exercise. Patience. Respect.
And most of all, love.
What happened next is the part of Mitch’s story I wish everyone could have seen.
He blossomed.
In
six years in our care, we never had an incident with Mitch. Not one.
He learned to trust us, and we learned to understand him. He loved his blankets. He loved his kennel. He loved going outside and strolling around his yard. As he got older, he even let us put pajamas on him. On his bad days, the girls would sit with him and hand-feed him.
Mitch wasn’t merely housed by us.
He was loved by us.
Keeping our promise to him wasn’t easy.
There were court hearings, attorneys, appeals, Animal Control and battles with the city. There were consequences for standing behind Mitch, and our rescue paid a very high price.
At one point, every dog had to be removed from our facility.
Mitch went with us.
We never left him behind.
We never threw him under the bus because saving him became difficult or expensive. Even when people questioned why we continued fighting for a dog with his history, we kept going.
Because we knew Mitch.
And through everything happening around him, Mitch simply continued being Mitch.
He loved us. He trusted us. And for more than six years, he proved that sometimes a dog’s past tells you where he came from — not necessarily who he is.
As Mitch grew older, cancer came. We treated him. When he developed intestinal problems, we made sure he received his medication every single day. We kept him vaccinated, comfortable, healthy and happy. He had his routine, his people and his place in this rescue.
And we were still fighting for him.
Then his cancer came back in a way we couldn’t fight.
Mitch developed a tumor on his spleen and was bleeding internally.
The day before, he had walked, played and eaten. The following day, he became very sick.
After all the years we spent fighting to keep Mitch alive, we had one final promise to keep: we would not allow him to suffer.
Mitch had only a few hours of discomfort. We were beside him. He had his blanket. He was being petted and loved, and he left this world very peacefully.
His kennel is empty. And it hurts.
For years, so many people wanted Mitch gone.
Now the place where he finally belonged feels unbearably empty without him.
I chose this picture of Mitch for a reason. For so much of his life, people painted him in darkness. But that was the farthest thing from the dog we came to know.
Mitch had an enormous amount of love to give. He simply needed humans who showed him a different way to live.
Every dog in our sanctuary program has a story worth telling, but Mitch’s story may be one of the most important.
His breed worked against him.
His past worked against him.
His humans failed him.
But none of those things were the end of his story.
Love changed the rest of it.
We paid a high price for standing behind Mitch, but if you asked me whether his life was worth fighting for, my answer would still be yes.
Every court appearance.
Every attorney.
Every move.
Every difficult day.
Every single year.
Worth it.
Because in the end, Mitch was never a case number to us.
He was never just a “dangerous dog.”
He was Mitch.
And for six years, he was ours.
Run free, sweet boy. This time there is no court, no case, no label and nobody left to fight.
Just peace.
We love you, Mitch. And we will miss you more than words can say.
