I saw him in an online shelter photo; he was a Big Stray Dog on the Hit List.  Alabama countryside – impossibly far from everything metro – certainly me, in San Antonio, Texas.  The surprising outcomes borne from a mission to rescue “Woofie the PilotsNPaws Dog” extend from scores of offers to help, and form friendships and future rescue teams with PNP pilots; across the Southern United States; even into Europe.

He had just 24 hours left.  Woofie was locked up in a kill shelter; I knew the place and knew his score; my Grandfather used to live nearby.  Was it possible to save the hairy pooch and bring him to my home in South Central Texas?  Late winter was underway, with weather media personalities harking “storm of the century” type travel conditions and warnings in regions all over the map.  Woofie would have to travel clear across the country. It’s early February.  Very early February.  Enter PilotsNPaws.org.  Never say never.  There is nothing the people and pilots associated with this rescue group won’t do to help if it means pulling a dog’s bacon out of the fire (or any other animal, as the case may be). It turns out even if they won’t be involved in flying, they’ll be cheering you on, deeply invested in the rescue.  Woofie’s plight brought together 15 people, gave the dog life – and wings, and formed additional new rescue avenues that will lead to bigger Pilots N Paws rescue numbers.

Europe is interested; specifically, the maker of Pipistrel motorizied gliders.  PNP Florida pilot Greg Lawrence, or “Deafhawk”, got involved with the Woofie venture immediately – an example, he said, of a dog that could be flown to safety at less cost than traditionally used private planes.   Greg uses Pipistrels to prowl doggie death rows seeking potential service dog candidates; he pulls them and trains them.   He figures with the advantages provided through less expensive aircraft than traditional small planes, fewer operational costs and less stringent FAA flying certification, more animals can and will be saved using these LSA’s.  More pilots and those to become pilots will join Pilots N Paws.  Pipistrel is pushing the “Woofie Saved by PNP!” story on its website, Facebook page, and through journalistic/aviation publication contacts in Europe.   It mentions interest in establishing a PNP Donations link through the idea of using their cost-effective aircraft as another new ideal way to transport pets in need.

But – back in the Lone Star State, I could see getting Woofie off death row and all the way over to Texas was clearly a long shot.  Nothing was known about him other than he was a frightened mass of 75 pounds of quivering Irish Wolfhound mix.  Death was on the menu;  he knew it.  I made the call to the shelter out in the Alabama countryside feeling more impossibility than “can-do”.  “He’s a Fine Boy”, said the man who answered the shelter phone; “good on a leash and gets along real well with the other dogs.  But he’s terrified of the barking here; he’s shut down unless we get him to a quiet area; there’s little chance he’ll be adopted when he is as frightened as this”.  They sent me additional photos – I found myself falling in love as I eyeballed the pooch posing large – trying to hide and look invisible – next to a 6 foot 4 inch tall man.  His eyes positively screamed terror.  Every description in talking with shelter personnel had him sounding like a clever, sweet dog.  He was clear across the nation.  And then I remembered PilotsNPaws.

I pitched the idea on the PNP website with every bit of hope I had.  A few lookers; no takers.  I wasn’t sure if the idea itself would fly – I wasn’t a rescue facility, the dog wasn’t a tripod, special needs, a basket of puppies in danger, a medical candidate; he was just a dog; a fine dog, and a Big Dog at that.  75 pounds of hairy dog.  I wanted him with all my heart and soul.  I’d been looking for a long time for the “right dog”.  What on earth possessed me to decide THIS DOG was THE DOG from a couple of photos remains beyond me.  Who on earth would want to stick an enormous hairy dog like that in their lovely private plane?  I decided we might have a better chance at this if I were to email area pilots directly and ask for their help.  And they answered in droves, with offers to help of all kinds.

PNP Pipistrel pilot Greg Lawrence in Florida was the first to contact me; he wanted to fetch that Fido and fly him all the way across the country in one of those fabulous Pipistrel fuel-sipping/money-saving motorized gliders.  Aircraft availability that week became an issue, but Greg stayed in daily contact urging me to stick with it – he believed the mission would come together.  And then I heard from the very dedicated and focused pilot Bob Shuey in Albertville, Alabama, nearer Woofie.

“I will fly that dog to Mississippi (but)… I am going to be honest with you, this distance is a tough one to coordinate”, offered Bob.  I insisted I was in this thing from nose to tail tip.  Bob dove in to do some research; offering Landlubber Me a little education about what was involved – distances, costs, what was reasonable; what was not.  Possible handover points.  And the weather.  It was early February.  The nation was gripped in sheets of ice and snow, but we were working the South.  There might be a chance.

Monday arrived and I begged the shelter to give me another day to try to set up flights.  I heard from another pilot near Huntsville, Caroline Hodges; if she wasn’t flying the dog, then she offered to fetch him – (those pathetic terrified eyeballs had worked their magic on her too) – a full hour’s drive away after a long day at work – and house him until flight legs were sorted out.  She’d never done a foster rescue before, but drove out to get Woofie, wrapped her arms around the frightened dog, and took him home while we attempted to sort out the remaining flight legs to Texas.

Alabama Pilot Caroline Hodges Snags Woofie from the Shelter.

How caring are PNP Pilots?  The collar Woofie had on at the shelter had mysteriously disappeared.  Caroline grabbed the collar and leash she’d saved from her beloved dog Millie that had passed on some time ago.  “It’ll bring him luck and love”,  she said, and it did.

Communication from PNP pilots offering help in many different ways became a full time job.  Buddy Pickett called from down near the Gulf Coast; he offered to network Woofie’s needs.  Through his efforts, I began getting calls from people all over Alabama, including rescue group experts.  I received advice on reliable and safe alternative ground transports in case winter flight legs through PNP weren’t possible.   Everyone stayed in touch.  Everyone cheered us on.  Everyone had faith in their fellow PNP Pilots, and Woofie was fast becoming the heartthrob of everyone who saw his photo or knew we were “stuck”.  Busted flat in Mississippi.  Waitin’ on a plane.

Gut-wrenching nothing for a few days.  I hit the Ride Board making updates a few times hoping to move that mutt from Mississippi to just a little closer to Texas.  The clock kept ticking, yet more acts of giving wormed their way into the stream of positive flight.

If Bob was to fly Woofie out of Alabama Saturday morning, he needed the pooch Thursday night and would have to take him to work Friday.  Rising well ahead of the sun for that dog, he and Caroline both got up drove distance again for a dog hand off.  Woofie also went home with Bob that night – a home filled with children, dogs, kitties, and a half bobcat; Woofie was the only unknown element.  Bob’s wife declared him “a gem”, and when you consider the amount of fur that was falling off that dog because of stress, you have to give a big old PNP tip of the hat to the entire family – if the vacuum doesn’t blow up in the next few weeks I’ll be surprised.  Another “beyond the call of duty” feat for the dog who just a day ago had absolutely no hope.  Bob’s girls fell in love with him; everyone wanted Woofie to stay.  Again.  A charming dog desperate for a new pack, but a smart one too – he knew a good loving place when he was in it.

PNP Pilot Bob Shuey:  Woofie Takes a Selfie!

Still stuck in Mississippi, Greg suggested I “try a Texas pilot; savin’ dogs seems like a cowboy thing to do”.  Houston pilot Wayne Rabalais must have heard him.   It seems Everything Truly IS Bigger In Texas”.  Wayne called from Houston, offering to  “go get that dog in Mississippi and bring him back to Houston”.  This guy’s gotta be John Wayne!    How is it possible one pilot would fly a good chunk across the country to get and bring back home ONE dog?  Not a passel o’ puppies; not a plane crammed with headline-making scores of dogs, dogs in dire medical circumstances – just a dog?  Just a big, hairy dog?

Pilots Caroline, Bob and I were ecstatic; it’s no small thing to look into the eyes of a petrified pooch and offer to fly him to safety, but a mission like this has a lot of unknowns that have to come together – wings in the dead of winter.  Overnight miracles in the form of tens of thousands of animal rescues happen because of PilotsNPaws.  But not enough people know about PNP.  Now I had something with which to blab incessantly about.  One shocking act of giving after another. That is, if the weather held out.  The PNP email train lit up like fireworks again with the news.

We could only pray a nice weather window forecasted to hold – on the one day the flights were being planned on a Saturday – did.  I made arrangements to drive to Houston to meet the plane – then suddenly – more calls and emails started rolling in again.  Offers to fly Woofie from Houston to the San Antonio area; most involved Sunday and all involved offers to again house the dog at pilot’s HOMES for the night ahead of the flight.  Incredible.  Woofie was becoming the poster dog for PilotsNPaws.  As if flying 750 miles round trip to catch and fetch Woofie wasn’t enough, Wayne also offered to overnight Woofie at his Houston home if it would help us in his travel home.

11th hour Friday; Bob is flying Woofie out of Alabama first thing in the morning.  Bill Kinsinger in Oklahoma calls. He would be on a Coonhound saving mission Saturday, flying all over Texas picking up and dropping off dogs in peril. If the schedule worked, he’d like to meet Wayne Rabalais and toss Woofie aboard his plane to bring him from Houston to New Braunfels.  I sat in shock.  I wanted to meet Wayne, the 750-mile Cowboy Pilot,  but it’d probably be better for the stressed out flying-all-day dog to just get home that night and start to settle in.  A now 20-minute car ride had to beat a several hours long additional land haul for a dog that’d never been on a plane before The Big Day.  I accepted with delight, wondering that it’d now be a 20 minute trip to fetch the hairy Fido rather than several hours in the car.

Departure Day: Woofie Gets Wings; Bob Shuey, daughter Faith and Woofie; 6500 Feet.

Woofie-Day came.  On Saturday, in stages, no fewer than a dozen PNP related folks watched the progress of Woofie’s flights unfold on Flightaware.com.  “MAGNIFICENT!”, proclaimed Bob; “Best dog I have ever flown!…No whining, yapping, barking, barfing, freaking out – nothing!  He put his head down on my daughter’s lap and went to sleep”.   Bob says Woofie was so great both at home and onboard he’d considered sending me his “neurotic mutt” and keeping Woofie for himself.  But he lands with the Woof at John Bell Williams Airport, just west of Jackson, and waits for Houston pilot Wayne Rabalais.

Bob Shuey Passes Woofie to Houston Pilot Wayne Rabalais near Jackson, Mississippi.

Wayne makes the ridiculously long round trip returning with the 75 pound Wolfie in one smooth story; no kennel cage again – he sat with a helper in the back seat and once again went to sleep. The fur dropping, of course, another matter; it’s my belief every pilot in the venture will find souvenir Woofie hair through at least the next year.  750 miles of a journey for just one dog ended, Wayne waited in Houston for Bill’s arrival.   And then it came together. They loaded Woofie on Bill’s plane – and he was airborne again. After ten days of working just to get the pooch and then transport him, Woofie was really coming home!

The New Braunfels airport just outside San Antonio metro area was still and quiet; only one man came through the main hallway.  I heard some radio chatter – something about landing in three minutes and having three dogs aboard.  Did that pilot say DOGS?  Is this really My Dog about to materialize out of the clear blue sky?  It was an electric moment;  days of hustling and hoping; PNP pilots working their tails off to make this thing happen – and now – it IS about to happen.

We walked outside.  We saw a speck!  There was no sound.  It was a Cirrus SR22 soaring almost invisible way out in the distance.  It looked like a sparrow up there.  I wondered that a Wolfhound could possibly be aboard something so small and quiet.  It swooped out; it swooped back and down it came.  A tiny bird with absolutely no sound and the end of the afternoon sun sparkling on everything; soft breezes, full sunshine.  Songbirds tweeted.  So much for winter; we caught the weather window.  “Meant to be”, I remembered Bob telling me.  The plane dropped down to the runway like a feather.

I didn’t know for sure My Dog was on that plane, but I felt it – so I jumped and whooped and made an entirely embarrassing spectacle of myself, and nothing could now happen fast enough, and the plane turned, the plane stopped;  the hatch was opened and Pilot Bill said “It was a pretty good flight”, and I RAN to the window and I SAW HIM THEN; ears all perked looking out the window; holding his own despite the confusion of flight.  “WOOFIE!”  I screamed; “WOOFIE, YOU ARE HOME!”  Another hatch opened and out spilled a couple of dogs destined for a rescue group. Still in the netting, all legs, elbows and knees, was Woofie.  I untangled him, snapped on a leash and down he came.  Woofie Makes Texas!

Oklahoma Pilot Bill Kinsinger unloads a planeload of dogs in New Braunfels, Texas.  Woofie meets his Mom.

This story isn’t just about Woofie, who, by the way, is doing very well.  He’s dining on roasted meats and boiled bone broth; mashed potatoes and chopped greens and a dash of calcium and omega oils for the hair loss (which is, admittedly, getting better and he IS gaining weight).  It isn’t about the distance; as Bob noted, “Not many dogs go this far. Coordinating three pilots and having the weather clear all the way is quite unusual.  It means that it was meant to be.”

It isn’t just about more than 15 Pilots N Paws Pilots or ground help, or co-pilots, or the other dogs that made it safely to safety that day.  It isn’t just about my 14 year old highway dog Violet that adores the ground Woofie walks on, and it isn’t about laughing at the two of them playing until coffee comes out of my nose.  It isn’t even just about the friendships made and respect for PNP people so deep you could plow till the cows (or dogs) come home.  It’s about new opportunities that will happen because OF the experience – new opportunities and lives that will be saved because of new missions begun.

The Pipistrel manufacturer in Slovinia has begun making PNP a part of their raison d’etre.  Helping PilotsNPaws by spreading the word across Europe on their website and through their contacts.  But the bottom line – and start of everything good, new, fresh and hopeful – is PilotsNPaws.org.  I would like to say thank you – to and for – each and every one of us.

To Caroline Hodges, Bob Shuey, Wayne Rabalais, Bill Kinsinger, Greg Lawrence, Buddy Pickett, and so many more who followed Woofie’s story and progress – you thought you were a large part of a mission to save an unknown death row mutt and get him to his forever home.  And you were.  But there’s much more borne of your involvement that bred so much positive energy it’s taken on new life in new directions.  A new movement underway to use a different type of wings to find future service dogs in the same circumstances as Woofie.  Even more opportunities daily for me to do PilotsNPaws public relations whenever I am asked about the Woof and afforded the chance to do the “Do you know about PNP?” tap dance.   A future of life, less limitations, and dare I say more coffee to come out of the noses of laughing future owners watching their dogs play?  Owners who don’t even yet see it coming.  Because when they play and are happy, a dog is a dog is a dog.  A dog is bright, and joyful, and in the moment.  Even the unknown strays with terror in their eyes.  Let’s go save some more! ☺

Kimberly James is a journalist and Public Relations professional living in San Antonio, Texas.  She’s been listed for a few years on the PNP website as an area ground volunteer.  She rarely gets a call to help, and would like to get more.  She’s learned something of great import – PNP pilots often get hungry on these vital missions; hungry with few food options.  She’d like to bring a sandwich to you.  Kimberly can be reached through KimberlyJames@msn.com