This dog collapsed outside a neighborhood.
Her body sagged from hunger and disease. Residents brought food and water, but her needs were far greater. She was too weak to stand, her frail frame crawling with ticks that drained the last of her strength.
No one had seen her before. To me, it seemed clear—she was likely a victim of backyard breeding, discarded like trash when she was no longer useful.
Some people see dogs as objects. To be used. To be thrown away. To be forgotten.
But not everyone.
A kind Samaritan posted her on TikTok, desperate for help. Within an hour, our volunteer Lynette had her in the car. And it’s no exaggeration—Stevie would not have survived another day without that chain of compassion.
When she arrived, she was a heartbreaking sight. Pale gums. Trembling limbs. Just sixteen pounds when a healthy two-year-old should weigh twice as much. Her ribs poked through her skin. She had lost most of her blood to parasites. Her body was in full collapse.
Tests confirmed the worst:
- Severe dehydration.
- Critical anemia with a hematocrit of just 5%.
- Two deadly tick-borne diseases.
- A dangerous heartworm infection.
Every part of her fragile body was under attack.
She needed blood transfusions. She needed fluids. She needed warmth—because even her body temperature had dropped too low to sustain life.
That night, the veterinary team stayed awake, fighting for her. They used warm blankets, heating pads, anything to stabilize her. They chose not to risk standard parasite treatments, which would overwhelm her system. Instead, they began with Frontline spray, a gentler approach, to start killing ticks without breaking her.
Through it all, Stevie remained calm. Gentle. Patient. As if she understood this was her only chance. For the first time in her short, brutal life, she was safe. Surrounded by love, not cruelty.
She received her first transfusion. Her numbers improved. For the first time, her body had a chance to fight back.
The next day, she was eating on her own. A miracle. Then came her first bath—warm water, gentle hands, washing away not just filth but years of neglect. She wasn’t just cooperative—she was sweet. Her spirit, fragile but radiant, began to shine through.
But the road was far from easy.
Her blood counts dropped again, dangerously low. She needed another transfusion. And then another. Each time, we held our breath, praying her tiny frame could endure.
And then… hope. Her levels began to rise on their own. Slowly, steadily, her body began producing new red cells. It was a turning point.
After weeks of intensive care, Dr. Shane Daigle finally said the words we longed to hear: Stevie could go to foster.
It was official. She was stable enough to leave the hospital.
Erika Rix and her husband opened their home and their hearts to her. When Stevie stepped into that house, she hesitated for just a moment—then wagged her tail, greeting Erika as if she knew: This is love. This is safety.
For a dog who may never have been inside a home before, her joy was overwhelming. She curled up on soft blankets, leaned into kind hands, and claimed her place in a family.
And here’s the miracle:
Medically, Stevie shouldn’t have survived. A PCV of 6% is nearly incompatible with life. By all logic, she should not be here. But she is. She’s walking. She’s wagging her tail. She’s full of quiet joy.
Stevie is proof that life is not measured by numbers alone. With love, determination, and relentless care, even the most fragile soul can defy the odds.
Her past was cruelty. Her present is healing. Her future is love.
Stevie’s story reminds us why we rescue. Why we fight through exhaustion, why we stay up through the night, why we spend every last dollar on vet bills. Because life is precious. Because every soul deserves a chance.
And because sometimes, when the world says “impossible”, a little dog named Stevie says “watch me.”
