When we at Dumaguete Animal Sanctuary first saw the video, our hearts broke.
The dog in the footage was in a state no living being should ever endure. His lower right leg had been intentionally hacked off. Not an accident, not a twist of fate, but the deliberate cruelty of someone who wanted him to suffer.
We searched for him many times, following leads, but he was nowhere to be found. Each day that passed, the fear grew heavier—was he still alive? Had his suffering finally claimed him?
And then, one day, we found him. What we saw nearly undid us. He was lying there, motionless, as though he had surrendered to fate. His eyes were vacant, his body broken. It was as if he had already accepted death.
Neighbors told us that when he searched for food, people had thrown stones at him. His body bore the evidence—open wounds, holes in his skin from the assaults. He was a dog who had known only cruelty. And yet, through it all, he had tried to survive.
We named him Matty.
At the vet, the reality became clear. His leg could not be saved. The tissue was dead, infection creeping deeper by the day. But Matty was too weak for surgery. He had lost so much blood, his red blood cell and hemoglobin levels dangerously low. His survival was uncertain.
So we did the only thing we could: we surrounded him with love. We bathed him, comforted him, fed him carefully, and whispered promises that he was safe now. “Hold on, Matty. Life can be better. Just hold on.”
Day 10: Blood tests confirmed our fears—severe anemia and infection. The vet warned us: his survival was still not guaranteed. Surgery was necessary to save him, but his body might not endure it yet. We faced a terrible dilemma: delay the surgery and risk infection spreading, or go ahead too soon and risk losing him on the table. All we could do was strengthen him as best we could, day by day, while preparing for the inevitable.
Day 15: Matty looked bewildered, as if he didn’t understand why he still lived, why people now cared. His eyes held sadness, but also a fragile glimmer of trust. We wished he could know what we knew—that his life was going to change, that pain would not define him forever.
Day 20: He began to show progress. He ate with more appetite, stood with more strength, and wagged his tail for the first time. That small motion was enough to bring us to tears.
Day 22: His bloodwork had improved, though not as much as we’d hoped. His leg, however, grew worse each day, the necrosis spreading. There was no more time. Surgery was scheduled for Day 24. We asked everyone to send their healing thoughts, to lift him up with prayers and positivity.
Day 24: At 2 p.m., Matty was wheeled into surgery. Our hearts pounded as hours ticked by. Finally, the vet emerged: the amputation had been successful. Matty was alive.
The days that followed were nothing short of miraculous. On Day 26, Matty devoured two full cans of food, his appetite surging back. Soon he was out and about, hopping around on three legs with surprising speed.
Day 32: His wounds were healing beautifully. His fur shone, his eyes sparkled. He looked like a different dog—handsome, alert, and full of life.
Day 34: We began the search for his forever home. Matty deserved the best—someone who would never let him suffer again.
Day 40: “Here’s Matty!” we exclaimed in joy, showing off the playful, affectionate boy he had become. By Day 52, he was unrecognizable from the broken soul we had found weeks earlier. He bounded happily, his tail wagging, his face alight with joy.
Day 60: It was bittersweet. Our last few days with Matty had come. He was preparing to leave for his forever home.
Day 65: We put him on the boat. Our hearts ached with the goodbye, but our tears were mixed with gratitude. He had made it. He had been saved.
Day 82: Updates came—Matty was thriving with his adopter, a kind man named Blake. Their bond was immediate. Blake showered him with love, exercise, and companionship. Matty, in turn, gave back everything he had: affection, trust, and a heart so full of gratitude it radiated from his every look.
For a dog once mutilated and stoned, Matty’s capacity for love was astonishing. He had every reason to hate humanity. Instead, he forgave, embraced, and loved more deeply than most.
Day 95: He grew stronger each day. With regular walks and exercise, his three-legged stride became confident and steady.
One year later: Matty had grown into a big, beautiful boy. His coat gleamed, his eyes shone, and his joy was uncontainable. To see him bounding through the yard, tail wagging, was to witness a miracle.
From a dying dog on a dusty roadside to a cherished companion in a forever home—Matty’s journey is proof that love heals.
He is more than a survivor. He is a reminder that even in the face of cruelty, kindness can prevail. That every life, no matter how broken, is worth saving.
Matty’s story is not just about rescue. It’s about resilience. It’s about transformation. It’s about the power of compassion to turn despair into hope.
And to all who followed his journey, who donated, prayed, or simply cared—Matty is living proof of what you made possible.
