06/13/2026
When you're in rescue, you deal with a lot of loss.
Every loss hurts, whether it's a dog that's been here a couple of days, a couple of weeks, or especially the ones that have been here longer.
But Leia's loss was exceptional.
She stands out for so many reasons.
The first is that Leia was part of the very first litter of puppies we ever pulled from a shelter.
Our rescue officially started on July 1, 2019. At that point, we were brand new. We had only taken in one rescue dog prior to Leia, her mama Peyton, and her nine siblings.
One day I was scrolling Facebook and saw a plea from Humane Society of South Mississippi looking for a rescue for a mama dog and her ten puppies.
Ten puppies is a lot.
Especially for a brand-new rescue.
Especially for your first shelter pull.
But there was something about Peyton.
She was so skinny. So tired. So defeated-looking.
I just knew we had to help.
Jeff told me we weren't ready. I told him, "We've been in rescue since July. It's November 13th. There's no time like the present."
So we gathered our 501(c)(3) paperwork, got in the car, and drove to Gulfport.
I'll never forget that day.
I walked into the shelter and said, "I want to pull the mama and her litter of ten."
They asked us questions, reviewed our paperwork, and approved us.
Then they brought the dogs out.
The puppies were all piled into a little rolling cart that reminded me of a hotel laundry hamper. Peyton walked beside them with her tail held high, her chest puffed out, and the proudest look on her face.
She looked so proud of her babies.
And she looked so happy to be leaving.
We brought them home to our property in Poplarville. At the time, we had an old building that the previous owners had used to house a hot tub. We had converted it into a dog area.
There weren't any kennels in it yet. It was just one open room.
We set Peyton up with a whelping area, a memory foam mattress topper, blankets, food, water, and a plush dog bed of her own. Jeff took her on walks several times a day to give her a break from the puppies.
The puppies had been born in the shelter on November 1, 2019.
We brought them home on November 13.
Within days, they started getting sick.
Respiratory infections.
Vet visits.
Antibiotics.
Ten tiny puppies needing medications multiple times a day.
We did everything we could, but they weren't improving. A second vet visit was not helpful. They ruled out distemper, upped the medication dose, and sent us on our way.
Then one night, while Jeff and I were sitting on the porch, we heard one of the puppies making a distressed bark.
I ran over.
It was Beefy.
He was gasping for air.
We immediately loaded him into the car and drove about an hour to the emergency veterinarian. It was around midnight when we arrived.
They examined him and told us he had a severe respiratory infection and might not survive. They said another litter had come in from the shelter with this same condition and none of those puppies made it.
They asked us to bring the rest of the litter so they could check all of them.
So we drove back home, loaded all nine remaining puppies into the car, and brought them in too.
After examining them, the emergency vet decided that five of the ten puppies needed to stay hospitalized.
The other five came back home with us.
The hospitalized puppies remained there for three days.
The veterinary staff saved them, but when they came home, they were all severely underweight because the nursing babies were only given canned food. And they weren't really ready for that.
Because they had been away from Peyton for so long, she rejected them.
We were very new at rescue and didn't know how to safely reintroduce them, so to avoid risking their safety, I took over.
Bottle feeding.
Syringe feeding.
Medications around the clock.
Nebulizer treatments with albuterol.
Every few hours, day and night.
And Leia was the weakest of them all.
When she came home from the emergency vet, she was completely emaciated.
I honestly didn't think she was going to make it.
The other puppies gradually regained their strength. They started eating puppy mash and acting like normal puppies again.
Leia wasn't there yet.
She was still so weak that I had to syringe feed her.
Every day felt like a battle.
Then one morning I was getting breakfast ready.
I had puppy mash set out.
Formula dishes ready.
Wee-wee pads down.
I opened the gate so the puppies could come out and eat.
And there was Leia.
Tiny little Leia.
She hopped out of her enclosure all by herself.
And she started eating on her own.
I don't know that I have ever cried happy tears so hard.
She was the last of the ten puppies.
The last one I was worried about.
The last one I wasn't sure would survive.
When she finished eating, I picked her up and held her for the longest time.
I remember hugging her and crying because for the first time, I thought she might actually be okay.
From that day forward, Leia was my dog.
The other puppies played rough, and for whatever reason, they always seemed to pick on her a little more than the others.
Whenever she got tired of being pushed around, she would come running straight to me.
She would stand up beside me until I picked her up.
Then she'd curl up in my lap, fall asleep, and take a nap.
Every single day.
By the time the puppies were old enough for adoption, I knew I was in trouble.
I loved every one of them.
I had poured every ounce of myself into keeping them alive.
But Leia was different.
As the litter got smaller and puppies began leaving for their forever homes, I looked at Jeff and said, "We have to keep her."
Thankfully, we made the right decision.
What we didn't know at the time was that three of the ten puppies had congenital kidney disease.
We didn't discover it until they were just a few months old.
Bloodwork before their spay and neuter surgeries started coming back abnormal.
Leia's kidney values were among the worst.
Her sister Violet passed away when she was only a year old.
Her brother Beefy passed away when he was two.
Both lost their battles with the same disease.
So from the very beginning, I never really knew how much time I would have with Leia.
If I'm being honest, I'm a little surprised I got as much time as I did.
But I am grateful for every single day.
Leia was one of the best dogs I've ever known.
She was so smart.
She taught herself how to work the ice dispenser on our refrigerator because she loved ice cubes so much. She would stand up, put her paw on the lever, and dispense ice for herself.
She also figured out how to open our front porch door in Poplarville by pushing the handle down and pulling backward at the same time.
How many dogs can figure that out?
That was Leia.
Always thinking. Watching. Learning.
But more than anything, she loved her people.
And she loved me.
The bond we formed when she was that tiny, sick puppy never went away.
So watching her these last few days has been incredibly difficult.
Her kidneys finally began to fail.
Her kidney values skyrocketed.
She became anemic because her body stopped producing enough red blood cells.
Three days ago she was still running around the yard.
She was slower.
She slept more.
She had become picky about her food.
But if you didn't know her, you might never have realized she was sick.
She hid it well.
Then, over the last two days, everything changed.
She declined rapidly.
This morning she didn't want to eat.
Her eyes had that sunken look.
The look that tells you a body is tired.
Her breathing became more labored.
She would go outside, but mostly she would just stand there.
She was trying.
But she was struggling.
And I knew.
It's Friday.
I didn't want her to spend an entire weekend fighting a battle she could no longer win.
I didn't want her final days to be filled with suffering simply because I wasn't ready to say goodbye.
The truth is, I don't think I ever would have been ready.
So I called Dr. Natalie and asked if she could come to the farm.
Around five o'clock this evening, she arrived.
The lights were low.
A candle was lit.
The house was quiet.
The other dogs were outside.
And I held Leia in my arms.
Just like I did when she was a tiny puppy.
Just like I did when she finally ate that first meal.
Just like I did every time she needed comfort.
Only this time was the last time.
I held her as she left me.
I held her as she left this earth.
I held her as she took her final breath.
And a piece of me left with her.
Some dogs come into your life for a reason.
Some dogs change you.
Some dogs become part of who you are.
Leia was one of those dogs.
She was there at the very beginning of this rescue.
She was one of the puppies who taught me what it truly means to fight for a life.
She was my shadow.
My survivor.
My little miracle.
And tonight my heart is broken.
I am so thankful that she chose me all those years ago.
And I would choose her again every single time.
Run free, sweet Leia.
You were loved beyond measure.
And I will never be the same.
