On our way to work, we saw him.
A stray dog lying near the road, his head badly rotting.
We didn’t hesitate. We pulled over immediately.
Tom turned the car around when we realized how serious it was.
Children stood at the bus stop. Cars swerved around him. Not a single person stopped.
I couldn’t understand how someone could ignore this. It broke my heart.
He slipped through an apartment gate and disappeared.
All day long we searched for him.
That evening, we finally found our angel.
Hidden in a closed space behind the apartments, right where we lost him in the morning.
We almost walked past.
Then we noticed a small opening and shined a flashlight inside.
As we stepped closer, he suddenly walked out.
He tried to run, but we blocked the exit and gently set a trap.
That’s when we saw it.
A shoelace tight around his body, c.u ŧting deep into his skin.
Shoelaces do not belong on dogs.
Someone h.u ŕt him. Someone left him to s.u ƒfer in silence.
We rushed him to the vet, praying it wasn’t too late.
Every second felt endless.
Gus is now at Vergi 24/7.
As if the shoelace wasn’t enough, our sweet boy had been s.h σt repeatedly with a p.e łlet g.u ח.
His body was full of p.e łlets.
Those white dots on the X-ray— all embedded inside him.
I cannot imagine the p.a ìn this dog endured.
Gus was transferred to Texas A&M Small Animal Clinic to see a soft-tissue specialist.
They were waiting for him.
Ready to give him the best care possible.
Seeing his head in person fills you with h.o ŕror
and deep s.a đness.
How is he still al.i ∨e?
For the first time in so long, Gus slept with little p.a ìn.
Strong pain medication eased him. Antibiotics began fighting infection.
IV fluids helped his dehydrated body.
Gus made it through surgery and rested under heavy pain control.
The goal was to remove scar tissue around his neck, but he began losing too much b.l σod.
The surgeon stopped to save his life.
A b.l σod transfusion followed. They would wait until he was strong enough.
Doctors believe Gus is only ten months old.
Just a baby.
We think the shoelace was tied around his neck when he was tiny and abandoned.
As he grew, it tightened.
Cutting deeper. With no one helping.
Now, Gus is surrounded by warmth.
Cuddles. Gentle hands. Love.
His life before was fear and p.a ìn.
Never knowing who would h.u ŕt him next.
But now, everyone he meets is kind.
And he is learning what a good life feels like.
Laser therapy and massage are helping him heal.
It was a long, emotional day for Gus and his Houston K-911 Rescue family.
Gus left the hospital— free at last.
He said goodbye to his incredible doctor and the student who cared for him,
thanking them with gentle hugs.
For the first time, his neck didn’t burn with p.a ìn.
More surgery was still ahead, but Gus was grateful to be alive and loved.
He knows now that night in the crate was the moment his life changed forever.
Today, Gus enjoys simple joys.
Good food. Soft beds. Belly rubs. Playtime.
His tail never stops wagging.
His w.o ∪nds have healed. His spirit is strong.
Once broken and alone, Gus now lives surrounded by love.
Every step of his recovery was a victory.
Every wag of his tail tells his story.
Gus found his forever.
And he reminds us all what love, compassion, and resilience can do.
➕
