Please light a candle for alumna Bailey (formerly BaeBae). She left for the Rainbow Bridge, but still holds on to her family’s hearts.
Her momma writes: I hope Bailey’s story can be shared, and I hope it helps other girls, like Bailey, find their happy furever homes.
Bailey came to our home on March 25, 2023, not long enough ago. She was 7 years old and just getting her freedom from too many long, hard years as a puppy mill mom.
She was filthy dirty, a little scared, and so open to possibilities. We were her foster family and ours was her first home, her first yard, her first bed, and her first time being loved.
Bailey went to all the adoption events and put on her best face, but it’s hard for an old gal to find someone willing to give a little time instead of a lot. So she stayed with us.
In August 2023, we adopted Bailey and she moved across the country with us to Washington. And she loved it. The cool weather, the giant yard, the family of her own.
But then her world started to get smaller and smaller. Bailey’s eyes had gone untreated for so many years so she was going blind.
By October, she could only see about 5 feet. By December, she was afraid to wander in the yard because she would get lost, unable to find her way back to the house. She became our shadow. Knowing that we could be her guide, she was safe and still happy.
Then her world got smaller. In January, we found a lump and learned that Bailey had fast progressing breast cancer. I’ve read that the likelihood of a dog getting breast cancer goes from 1% to 26% if not spayed before 2 years old, and it doubles the chance of other types of cancer. That could mean that roughly 30% of all puppy mill moms die of cancer, with 25% of those having breast cancer.
But still, every day, Bailey was happy and full of love. This week, we said “goodbye” to our sweet girl.
But here’s the thing. We are a dog family. They are our people. We love dogs and they have loved us. Bailey was the best of the best; one of the sweetest, calmest, most love-giving creatures I have ever encountered.
What I can never understand is how a dog can be treated so terribly for so long and come out of it with such love and kindness still in her. In her place, I think I would hate humans, unable to forgive and forget the cruel life I was forced to live for most of my days.
But she loved anyways.
Bailey is an exercise in forgiveness. She found joy and peace in every moment, even when those moments went dark or came with pain. To the very last moment, she loved.
Yes, she was old, and blind, and didn’t get to stay with us long. But we will never regret adopting her. She gave more than she received in that short 11 months and 1 day. And we loved her.
If you can adopt an old, dirty, blind, neglected senior dog, do it. You will only have to give a little. They will give you more.
Rest now, sweet Bailey. Your work here is done.
