Ariel had been living in the wilds of the St. Francis Woods district of San Francisco and despite the many calls from residents and the many times that Animal Control Officers attempted to catch her, she outsmarted them every time.

In January 2006, five officers decided that it was time for her to have a better life and went out again. In a desperate attempt to escape from them, she bolted all the way down Sloat Blvd., across Ocean Beach and straight into the sea. She then spent twenty-five minutes fighting huge waves and rip currents to avoid all the officers who were lined up in the surf praying that she wouldn't drown. By a stroke of luck, a surfer approached in his wet suit and offered to swim out and round her up and back onto dry land.

About fifty feet from the shore, the surfer managed to get close enough to throw a leash around her neck and swim back with her. Every officer exhaled a huge sigh of relief and welcomed their sea dog into Animal Care and Control's care.

She has been living at the shelter ever since, being socialized by the GADAB volunteers, the officers, and kennel attendants. While she is still shy and nervous with strangers, she has formed bonds with many staff members and volunteers. We are looking for that special someone out there for Ariel. You might be a temporary foster parent who understands dogs and can improve on the work we've already done with her to make her a good canine member of our society, or you might be Ariel's forever home. Ariel is now in foster with Grateful Dogs Rescue 587-1121.

Frankie was a brave little five-month old American Pit Bull Terrier mix (likely black lab) puppy who came to GADAB after his owner was seen hitting him. Despite being beaten nearly senseless the day he arrived, Frankie proved to be a resilient fellow and showed no signs of fear around people. He loves greeting new friends (and old ones) with kisses and absolutely adores getting his belly rubbed. Frankie is a smart little guy, too. He already knew how to sit and lay down on command and learned how to high five on his second day. Over the next few weeks, volunteers worked with Frankie on his leash manners and spent time handling him - touching his paws and mouth a lot so he'd get used to it ­ and teaching him not to jump up when he greeted people. A month to the day after he arrived, Frankie passed his temperament test with flying colors and has been put up for adoption. Currently Frankie is in the available section, going to doggie play group, and awaiting his forever home. His A# is 211757. This medium sized guy is black with a big white spot on his chest.

Adoption Pending! On October 25, 2005 a black and tan Chihuahua was rushed to the emergency pet hospital. His face was horribly swollen. A rubberband had been tightly wound around his little muzzle, cutting deeply into the skin. This was Pacino. He would undergo surgery, removing not only the embedded rubber band, but the resulting dead tissue. Animal Control Officers had found him before the infection reached the point of no return. He had been wandering the city streets aimlessly, in excruciating pain and starving.

After all he had been through, Pacino still showed a love for human attention. He didn't seem to have any manners, or know any commands. But time would show that he could learn - and fast! As volunteers began to work with him, Pacino expressed a profound love for treats, perhaps due to his background. This would prove to be the doorway into Pepino's talent for agility.

Just days into his stay at ACC and working with GADAB, Pacino began to tackle the agility course. He jumped, teeter tottered, went through tunnels and hoops. He had found his calling. Not only was agility proving to be a breeze for Pacino, but he was developing a large vocabulary of commands. Sit, down, stay, hi five, shake - the volunteers were having so much fun with the little performer.

As his wound healed, it was evident that a scar would forever remain. But that was all that was left of Pacino's horrifying past. In early December, 2005, the delightful Pacino was adopted from custody by a local rescue group and placed into a foster home to await his forever home. He can be reached at 415.587.1121.

In November, 2001, San Francisco Animal Care & Control sent two officers to check on a complaint regarding a dog. On site, they found a skeletal Siberian Husky mix in a small room without food or water. Her name was Maggie. In the shelter her black, tarry stool, and thin, greasy coat gave away that she had been starved. She hid in the back of her kennel, and didn't move or respond to humans.

The Give a Dog a Bone volunteers approached Maggie with the patience and skill essential when dealing with abused dogs. Staying low to the ground, they sat outside her kennel and talked gently to her, tossing her bits of hot dog. After two weeks, she was confident enough with the volunteers to take little trips around the facility. Maggie was afraid of strangers, but also of stairs, elevators, phones, people with sunglasses or in uniform; things she had never seen before. She thrived during dog play sessions, though, and loved to be groomed.

Over time, Maggie developed into the playful and affectionate dog she should have been from the outset. Still distressed at being in the shelter-her kennel possibly too similar to her previous situation-it was the best outcome imaginable when she was adopted by a GADAB volunteer, Anne. To begin with, Anne recalls, Maggie displayed all the telltale signs of an abused dog: hiding under tables, dropping onto her back with her tail tucked when approached, or she jumped away and refused to eat if Anne made any movement after setting down the food bowl. She has since learned that beatings are a thing of the past. "When we are out now," Anne says, "she rubs herself against people's legs like a cat."

As a remnant of her torturous past, Maggie will always have stomach problems. But she is happy, well-fed, and safe-a treasured companion and friend. These days, her greatest worry is where she has put her favorite blue rope toy.

To put it bluntly, Smoosh was kind of a little jerk when he came to GADAB. An adorable-looking 7-month old pug, Smoosh joined us when his owner went to jail. It soon became very clear that he was very used to getting his own way and, in his mind, the world and all people in it were there for him. Putting a collar on was a true challenge and, once out in the yard, he was only interested in playing catch as long as he didn't have to bring the ball back. All attempts to handle him were met with frantic squirming and mouthing. As basic rules and routines were added to his daily life, Smoosh gradually found out that he was not the center of the universe. He learned to stop and wait at doors and not to pull on his leash; even discovering that retrieving was fun and rewarding. He began to tolerate being handled, stroked and cradled for short periods of time, and eventually responded to touch with soft eye contact and happy body wiggles. Smoosh got his big break when a pug lover, ready for a challenge, came to the shelter and fell in love with him. He's now happily ensconced in a loving home taking obedience classes in his spare time.

Sugar was a two-year old Jack Russell Terrier mix abandoned by her owner. Starved for affection, Sugar quickly showed a love for human contact - especially getting her ears scratched while sitting in laps. At first she was very shy and unsure of herself - tucking her tail on walks in the park and barking nervously in her kennel ­ but as she interacted more and more with volunteers, Sugar began coming out of her shell. She showed a penchant for agility training early on and quickly learned how to climb a ramp and jump through a hula hoop.

Soon, Sugar was going on walks outside the shelter and getting used to traffic, noises and people. The tucked tail and nervous barking disappeared. Two and a half weeks after she arrived, Sugar graduated to the shelter's available dog section. Two days later she was adopted.

- Mark Rogers
Senior Volunteer