by

Copper Rules: Life Lessons From a Beloved Soulmate Pet

Copper Rules: What would Copper do? Enjoy the change of seasons!

by Raquel Bruno

I started writing Copper Rules when we lost our beautiful Chocolate Lab Mix, Copper, in June. He was that perfect blend of elder statesman and big brother to all of the fosters we watched over, and then eventually to our children. He was my shadow in every way imaginable from sitting at my feet during morning coffee on the patio to laying by my side as my pregnant belly grew. He had an important role to fill, and he did it unconditionally with great purpose and determination. Dogs are known for their love and loyalty, but Copper was different. His depth of soul was felt by everyone who entered his world, and he made sure that everyone felt welcome in his space.

Since then, I have thought deeply about the lessons he instilled within us and even in the ether, he sends his messages daily through feathers, birds and thought transmissions. Copper Rules came to me as a whisper, almost as if he was telling me a secret in my ear. Today as I write this, Fall has begun to show itself with a dip in temperature as well as a transition from greenery to Copper’s coat color, which are highlighted in the trees as the leaves complete their life cycle—just as Copper did. I am reminded that Copper loved the change of seasons. He loved summer, because he could lounge in the shallow water of the ocean or place his Scooby-Doo like body in a tiny kiddie pool but he loved the change into a cooler temperature because of his heavy coat. We live near woods and when he was still able, he relished the idea of long walks on a forest blanket of yellow, red, and orange crunchy leaves under his paws, and taking in aromatic scents of the earth. It brought him life and vital energy. As with any of our four-legged furry family members, in the summer, walks are reduced due to potential heat exhaustion and being that Copper was more than 100 pounds, we made sure not to overtax him. With Fall, he had the freedom to roam for as long as his body allowed him to. It also served many more benefits for the humans in his life as well: a chance to spend quality time together, explore new areas, take in life as it unfolds, and marvel at the beauty this planet provides—a pastime that all family members can enjoy together.

The other seasons were just as enjoyable to Copper. He would bury his snout deep into a snow bank to catch an animal scent and leap up into snowflakes as they cascaded down on his nose in the Winter. He would chase butterflies and take in the aroma of new grass, gardens and flowers in the Spring. He would sunbathe (even during his last final days) and luxuriate in the pleasure of a shallow wave in the Summer. But I think the greatest thing that Copper would want to convey is to find the beauty in each and every moment—a passing of time, if you will, while having gratitude for what each season brings to us. Some of us love the heat, and some of us, love the cold—but the sentiment stays the same. Enjoying each nuance of the beauty each season provides nourishes us. Spending quality time together in each of those seasons is truly what mattered to Copper.

So, Copper wants to know: How will you enjoy your change of the seasons? Will you try a new baking recipe? Will you invent a new holiday just to spend time with family and friends? Will you go for that walk in a park you have never before explored? Will you truly look for the beauty in each moment the seasons provide?

Copper wants to know!

Raquel Bruno is a TV & Film Producer who runs Drive Entertainment Group & Thrive with Drive. When she isn’t producing or life-coaching, she spends her time raising her two beautiful kids with her husband, writing Copper Rules, DJ’ing, and now training their new addition: a lab/border collie mix her family adopted from North Shore Animal League: the very same place they adopted Copper.

A Voice Like Frank Sinatra’s
by

A Voice Like Frank Sinatra’s

Why they named me Frank Sinatra, I am not sure.  The neighbors laugh every time they say the name.  From what I understand, Frank was a singer, and they named me because of my voice.  I wouldn’t say it’s mellifluous, like the birds that live at the borders of our pasture, but to my ears the intake breath sound of Hee and outflow breath sound of Haw have a nice, solid sound, like large farm machinery scraping across the floorboards of the barn.  I like that.  It makes me less lonely for my kin.

I do have a friend.  He’s a horse who shares the pasture and barn with me.  His name is Fred.  No last name.  Wherever he goes, I follow.  Mostly he doesn’t mind, but sometimes he swings around toward me with flattened ears, so I back up a few paces.  A little later, when he’s not paying attention, I sidle up and stand near him.  I’m quite a bit shorter than Fred, but I feel that my being near him somehow adds to my stature.

We came here from different places—here being this roomy pasture with a barn, and a man and woman who live in the stone house.  Fred traded hands many times.  He made friends at the first few places, but with each subsequent trade he kept more and more to himself.  He told me, What’s the use in making friends when humans can decide at any time to send you somewhere else?  Horses have no choice.  We’re compliant, and we withstand all sorts of things.  But that doesn’t mean that our hearts are resilient.

Fred came here five years ago.  I don’t think he or I are going anywhere.  That’s the feeling I get from our people, and I’ve overheard them talking about letting us live out our days here.  Still, Fred keeps himself a little apart from me, just in case.  Once in a while, Fred touches my neck with his nose and I bow my head in gratitude.

The man and woman take him on trail rides now and then.  Sometimes I go along, led by a long rope.  I like the change of view and I’m happy not to have all that saddle and gear strapped to me.  We go down to the end of the pasture, out through the gate, across the cool stream, and up into the woods.

Unlike Fred, I wasn’t so much as bought and sold as shunted from one place to another.  Children at one barn rode me a few times before becoming bored with me, so I went to another place where men in straw hats and suspenders and women in long, dark dresses worked me hard. I pulled some contraption across a field, back and forth, back and forth.  I wasn’t fast or strong enough to suit them, and more than once they lashed my back harder than necessary to get their point across.  I strained and tried and sweated, but it was never good enough for them.  They believe that animals were put on earth by god for their use.  Never once did they touch me with kindness.  I closed my mind to it, but I never got used to it.

Eventually they stopped working me and brought in a broader, stouter donkey that pulled whatever they strapped to him.  In the pasture, though, he always stood with his head hanging low, his eyes half-closed.

I was sold at auction to the man and woman I live with now.  They coaxed me into the trailer and then out of the trailer, down the ramp, and into a pasture of tall, sweet grasses.

I kept waiting for things to unravel—for the food to become meager, for a command to pull something far too heavy, but it never happened.  Gradually I came to trust them.

Sometimes at night the man and woman sit on their porch playing wooden stringed instruments.  The woman sings.  Her voice is like a wisp of wind spiraling up into the sky.  Sometimes I’m inspired to sing along with her.  When I do, Fred stands nearby and listens attentively to the sound of our voices in harmony and the kind laughter of the man.

-UntoldAnimalStories.org – We tell animals’ stories, sometimes from their perspectives.  Gentle in our approach rather than shocking, we invite connection, compassion and, from that, action.  We also provide tips on what you can do to help animals, and we seek new action ideas, as well as animal and rescue stories, from you….  Please contact us at untoldanimalstories@gmail.com or via our contact page.

by

Michael & Cheeky the Squirrel

Cheeky the squirrel jumped into the truck then, realizing what she’d done, dashed out.  She stopped a stood a few feet away, curling her forepaws to her chest and gathering herself.  Michael shook his head.  He rummaged around in his glove box, found a bag of old, unshelled peanuts, and held one out to her.  Cheeky stood on his foot and took the peanut gently from his hand.

He hadn’t seen her in a year since he’d moved to a different part of town.

Michael had first seen her on the roof outside the kitchen window, peering in at him.  He slid up the screen a fraction of an inch and pushed a walnut through the crack.  She snatched it and ran off, jumping from the rooftop and the locust tree in one graceful arc.

The next day she came again, and the next.  Each morning she waited, squinting in through the glass’s reflection, for him to notice and feed her.  On snowy days, she hopped from one foot to another to keep from freezing.

By spring she abandoned the rooftop and waited instead on the rail by the front door, somehow knowing each day when he left.

On summer mornings Michael sat in the garden drinking his coffee.  He held the newspaper with one hand and dangled unshelled peanuts for Cheeky with the other.  She slipped them from his fingers with exquisite gentleness.

When he was getting ready to move across town, he worried about her.  Would she have enough food?  On walks in the neighborhood Michael counted the nut-producing trees and judged the distance to the trickling stream.

On the morning he packed the last of the boxes into his truck, he waited for Cheeky to arrive, but she never came.  Maybe she was watching him from somewhere.

Michael  thought about her from time to time.  The day he returned to the neighborhood to visit a friend, he closed the door of his truck, leaned against it, and looked around.  He saw her coming toward him, stopping and looking, then advancing.  He swears they were both smiling at each other.

•photo by Cherie Damron

by

Sheba’s Transformation: From Fear to Friendship

by Robert Leardi, MD

I have loved dogs all of my life, but because my parents wouldn’t allow one in the house, I had to wait until I was out of the house and married before getting one. Since then, many dogs have been in my life, and all but one have been shelter dogs.

The one non-shelter dog was a retired show dog—a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. She was a beautiful 10-year-old, extremely affectionate dog who, like all the dogs in my life, quickly bonded with me. After three months, she suddenly collapsed and died.

Afterward, my daughters began sending me photos of dogs from local shelters. One that caught my eye was a mixed-breed rescue named Sheba, thought to be under six years of age. She reminded me of my first dog, Prince, a Springer Spaniel mix who bonded with me instantly and seemed always to know want I wanted him to do without being asked. He also knew when I was coming home, although my arrival times varied. When we walked, he was at my side, never needing a leash.

Sheba’s adoption records showed that she had been seized by authorities in West Virginia “from a bad situation.” Like so many rescue dogs from the South, she was transported to the North for adoption. I adopted her in June 2023 through a local rescue, Hinde Animal Rescue in Media, PA.

Sheba

Sheba bonded with me quickly, but her mistreatment caused her to be terrorized by almost everything and everyone else. When I stopped to talk with neighbors on our daily walks she would whimper and pull away. Traffic frightened her, as did anything sudden or different. With me, Sheba was calm. I felt honored to be trusted by her and sought ways to expand her sense of safe. A dog psychologist evaluated her but was unable to help her beyond prescribing Fluoxetine, which had to be halved due to side effects.

The elements of time and loving patience seem to have helped the most. It’s been two years since I adopted Sheba, and she now sits or lies down patiently when I talk to neighbors, and her fear of traffic has passed. She is a low-energy, calm dog who loves to walk slowly, doesn’t pull, and walks with a slack leash. She refuses to play fetch, and when I throw a ball for her, it is I who has to retrieve it. Sheba smiles when she looks at me and has become the love of my life. She has become the companion that she is because she lives in a consistently loving environment. I suspect I have derived as much comfort from living with her as she has from living with me.

A tribute to all the dogs that have been in my life.

by

Gracie’s Journey: From Abandonment to Family

Gracie the cat found our way to us when my daughters were young. She had been thrown from a moving car and landed, limping, in the front yard of a kind couple who cared for her. They couldn’t take her in because they’re inside cat was quite territorial and wouldn’t allow it. And so they sought a home for the ginger-colored cat, and through a friend of a friend, she came to us. 

When she entered our house, Gracie was respectful. She moved gently and silently, her body and pace relaxed. She observed people and animals before doing anything. Our resident cat was unthreatened and curious about her. Our rescue pit bull befriended her immediately, and he frequently showed his affection by slurping her face. Gracie tolerated it, squinted against it, shook off the spit, and then gazed fondly at the dog.

Gracie connected deeply with my younger daughter and allowed all the things that young girls do with cats: dressing her up in doll’s clothing, pushing her around in a pram, draping her over her shoulder and wandering through the house.

Gracie had an understanding of things. One example is this—she always slept with my younger daughter, but the one and only night she changed her routine was when our beloved pit died. That night, Gracie divided her time between all of us, lending her gentle presence and snuggling against us in our beds before moving to the next person.

I love this picture of her. The backdrop is a twilight snowfall. Gracie sat for a long time, gazing outward at the evening. When she turned around, she looked me in the eye, blinked slowly, jumped down, and sauntered through the house.

by

Five ways to tell a puppy is from a puppy mill

from Humane World blog
Puppy for sale at pet store.

Date: June 2, 2025

Author: Kathleen Summers

Every year, an estimated 2.1 million puppies are sold from roughly 10,000 puppy mills across the United States. In these massive breeding facilities, nearly 500,000 dogs are kept solely for the purpose of breeding. Many of them will be killed or discarded when they become too old to breed, never knowing what a loving home feels like. We are changing this: Earlier this year, our fight to end puppy mill cruelty reached a milestone worth celebrating: 500 localities across the U.S. have banned the sale of puppy mill puppies in pet shops. Kathleen Summers, outreach and research director for our Stop Puppy Mills campaign, was the very first full-time staff member at Humane World for Animals focused solely on stopping puppy mills. Summers has spent 19 years working to expose and shut down puppy mills. Here, she discusses five signs that a dog is from a puppy mill. Share these tips with your family and friends to spare them the heartache of ending up with a dog whose puppy mill past casts a long shadow over their lives.

“We noticed she had a runny nose, but the pet store said it was just a cold.”

“The puppy slept the whole way home, but we thought that meant she was just a laid-back dog.”

“We weren’t able to meet the puppy’s mother because the breeder said their house was hard to find and met us at the gas station instead.”

These are the kinds of messages we receive from families who become heartbroken and stressed when the seemingly perfect puppy they bought from a pet store, online or a questionable breeder turns out to have serious health problems. When we receive these types of complaints, buyers often add that when they look back, they realize there were red flags. A love of animals and an enthusiasm about the idea of bringing a puppy home can lead people to overlook signs that puppies or their mothers are not healthy, that conditions are not ideal, or that a seller is not being transparent. This is the exploitative business model of puppy mills and the pet stores that sell puppy mill dogs—obscuring the truth of how dismal puppy mills are while capitalizing on people’s natural love for animals.

Our puppy mills team has been collecting complaints from the public for 20 years. The warning signs we hear about most often are the following:

  1. The puppy seems unwell or overly tired. If a puppy has a runny nose or seems lethargic, the pet store or breeder may describe them as “having a cold.” But puppies should be clean, alert and lively. While puppies do nap a lot, they should not seem drowsy or lethargic all the time, should not be coughing or sneezing, and should have clear eyes, ears and nose. Puppies should also be a minimum of 8 weeks old before offered for sale.
  2. Something doesn’t smell right. Literally. A puppy (and their mother) should look and smell clean. If they have been living in poor conditions, they may smell or look dirty or even show signs of fleas. That being said, anyone can give a puppy a bath, so you should also see for yourself exactly where the puppies and parents have been living. It should be in a clean and spacious location, not in stacked cages.
  3. The puppy doesn’t have veterinary documents. A list of vaccinations provided by the seller is not enough. A puppy should come with paperwork on veterinary letterhead, and that paperwork should include the dates and lot numbers of all vaccinations given, as well as information on the puppy’s wellness examination and deworming schedule. Otherwise, you have no way of knowing if the dog received the right vaccinations at the right time, or at the correct dosage and intervals.
  4. You aren’t sure where the puppy has been. If a breeder offers to meet you in a parking lot or other third-party location, that’s a red flag. Responsible breeders will be proud to let you see where the puppies and their parent(s) spend their time. This is also why we caution against purchasing a puppy from a pet store or online. Puppy mills hide behind these third-party sellers or fancy websites.
  5. The puppy’s mother seems to be afraid of you. Responsible breeders should allow you to meet the parents of a puppy—at a minimum, the mother. The mother dog should be friendly, clean, alert and happy to see you. A mother dog who seems afraid, lethargic or aggressive may be maladapted because she’s been living in poor conditions.

Our investigations into pet stores that sell puppies from puppy mills show time and again that these dogs suffer because they do not receive appropriate attention, socialization or veterinary care. 

https://www.humaneworld.org/en/media/oembed?url=https%3A//www.youtube.com/shorts/MXNTUVYXztg&max_width=0&max_height=0&hash=jzj06KJ99a6BcvcQnyBShTD4fLzWZ0hiKBJY2ZgkKnM

The best way to avoid supporting the puppy mill industry is to adopt a dog from an animal shelter or reputable rescue group instead. If you’re seeking to add a puppy to your family, there’s no shortage: Of the 2.9 million dogs who entered shelters and rescue organizations in the U.S. last year, 29% were puppies. You’ll not only be giving a home to a pup who needs one, but you’ll be keeping your hard-earned money out of the pockets of puppy mills. Learn more.

Kathleen Summers, outreach and research director for the Stop Puppy Mills campaign at Humane World for Animals, holding Peanut the dog.

Kathleen Summers is outreach and research director for the Stop Puppy Mills campaign at Humane World for Animals.

by

Shelter Struck by Two Missiles; Pets Need Evacuation

This week, our friends at 12 Guardian, a rescue organization, were struck by 2 missiles, devastating their building where pets had been staged in advance of a planned evacuation. Miraculously, not a single animal or person was hurt in this attack. All of the pets will be examined by a veterinarian to ensure they didn’t receive concussions, as they were directly under the blasts.

Brave volunteers continue to risk their lives to save innocent animals from the front lines. Hundreds of animals- both owned and stray – are being rescued each week. Many families refuse to evacuate without their pets, while others are forced to leave animals behind in the care of local volunteers. Abandoned and injured animals are also being recovered by dedicated teams operating under extremely difficult and dangerous conditions. 

We’re supporting local evacuation teams working across eastern, southern, and northern Ukraine. These volunteer-led groups play a critical role in transporting civilians -often elderly individuals, people with limited mobility, or families with children- as well as assisting with the evacuation and care of animals. 

To add to regular pet food support, we are now providing 150 plastic dog kennels and 150 plastic cat carriers to evacuation teams and shelters in key regions. These resources ensure both pets and rescued strays can be moved safely and humanely. 

Give now and help fund these efforts. https://theanimalrescuesite.com/products/96167-crisis-in-ukraine-fundraiser-gtgm?variant=39691659411531

by

The Kingfisher’s Flight

The pond’s edge is glassy, the middle wind-rippled.  From the birch tree I peer into the water.  Pondweeds corkscrew up to the surface, blooming tiny flowers.  Lily pads open themselves to the sky.  I wait.

On the far shore a beaver slaps her tail.  The woods creatures pause and look, then return to foraging.  I wait.

Sun and shadow move across the far hill and meadow grasses sway.  High summer has passed and the earth exhales toward autumn.  I wait.

As the sun sinks toward the horizon, ephemeral insects dip and dance above the water.  A flicker of silver rises toward the pond’s surface.  I lean into the wind and dive.  As the fish spirals out of the water, shedding sun-glinting droplets, I intercept it.  Then I spread my wings and fly, hearing the whoosh, whoosh of my wings in the wind.

–

UntoldAnimalStories.org is a nonprofit organization that seeks to invite small acts of kindness toward animals.

We welcome guest bloggers.  If you’re interested, please contact us at untoldanimalstories@gmail.com or via our contact page.

by

How to Tell the Difference Between a Lost Cat and a Feral Cat & What to Do to Help

Of the approximate 135 million pets in the US, about 1/3 of them go missing, and 80%+ (45 million) of those cats and dogs are never found. 

When people see a cat outside, it’s not uncommon to assume that a cat is feral rather than lost.  It can be difficult initially to tell the difference between a lost cat and a feral cat, because both are likely to be wary), but here are some tips that can help you to tell the difference.

Lost/stray cat:

  • Might meow—feral cats do not meow at humans
  • May be skittish initially but may come to tolerate being approached or might seek out human help/contact
  • May hang out near houses, because of the familiarity
  • Might be friendly, as the cat has socialized with humans at some point.
  • Is alone (feral cats can be part of a community of feral cats)
  • The fur may appear dirty or ungroomed
  • Is diurnal (out during the day—because of adopting human schedules)
  • Has a collar or microchip

Feral cat:

  • Does not meow at humans
  • Is hypervigilant
  • Is skittish and not friendly and/or takes a long time to become trusting
  • Are more likely to be nocturnal or crepuscular (active at dawn and dusk).
  • May have the ear tip clipped

What to do for a lost cat:

  • Provide water and food
  • Provide cold weather shelter (cats were originally desert animals, and they do not do well in frigid weather)
  • If the cat is friendly, try to lure it inside so that the local animal shelter can pick it up or you can take it to the shelter (or to your vet)
  • Check for missing cats and advertise “found cat”: Put up signs, call the local shelter and vets, and check lost listing and advertise online at https://www.pawboost.com/, https://nextdoor.com
  • Assess whether it is sick or injured; if so, call your local animal shelter for help

What to do for a feral cat:

  • Life is rough for feral cats—they typically die within two years. Consider providing water and food
  • Provide shelter; cats were originally desert animals and do fare well in cold weather. Here’s how: https://wagwalking.com/wellness/how-to-build-a-cat-friendly-shelter-for-feral-cats
  • Consider TNR (trap, neuter, release) if the cat seems healthy (if not, trapping and euthanasia is kinder
  • Assess whether it is sick or injured; if so, call your local animal shelter for help

Sources:

https://wagwalking.com/wellness/how-to-tell-the-difference-between-a-feral-and-a-stray-cat

US Missing Pet Epidemic and Euthanasia Statistics: Facts/Figures:

by

Sweet Story of the Runaway Pony

https://www.cnn.com/2025/05/15/us/video/pennsylvania-pony-police-officer-rescue-adoption-btc?utm_source=cnn_5+Good+Things+5%2F17%2F2025&utm_medium=email&bt_ee=s9Eqr2mJtMfxaob3occnw7gDcUCoGok5B57h0v%2FHyRT9wINSlGcejfK2c1raFo5%2B&bt_ts=1747483456936