We're always looking for dedicated volunteers, who make rescue possible. We hate to turn away any dog that really needs us. Volunteering is a great way to get more involved in the organization, learn more about the Springer breed, or just feel great knowing you've helped a deserving dog find a forever home. Foster homes, transportation, making phone calls, and participating in fundraising and awareness events are just a few of the ways you can volunteer. To learn more about being a volunteer, please fill out a Volunteer Application or a Foster Application on our site, and we'll get back to you as soon as we can.

Kirby's Story

The story below was written by one of our foster moms who also writes a column for her local newspaper. Below is the column she wrote when her foster dog, Kirby passed away.

Kirby was surrendered to New England English Springer Spaniel Rescue in September of 2008. He was 14 years old. His family disowned him as they did not want to care for an elderly dog anymore. What is even more disturbing is that their reason had nothing to do with the expenses associated with caring for Kirby; no one in the family, including a 14 year old son, who grew up with Kirby, wanted to bother with him anymore.

Being a member of New England English Springer Spaniel Rescue, I was asked to foster Kirby. At the time, I had just flunked “Fostering 101” by adopting my second foster dog, a beautiful, sweet, playful, 20 month old black and white Springer named Bella. With the addition of Bella, I now owned four Springers plus did specialized boarding and daycare in my business profession so how could I continue fostering? Easy. I made a commitment to New England English Springer Spaniel Rescue to be a foster home knowing I might flunk Fostering 101 and end up adopting one of the fosters in my care so it was clear what the answer was.

On Wednesday, September 17, 2008, Kirby was transported by another NEESSR member to the Cumberland Farms on Route 16 in Uxbridge where I met Kirby for the first time. Kirby was a field bred Springer so he was mostly white with black spots and he was BIG. Not big as in overweight, just big in size comparison to the breed standard. He was one of the biggest Springers I had ever seen besides Calvin, one of my favorite grooming customers.

Soon after Kirby arrived home with me, it became apparent that he had issues. He was not receptive to the affection bestowed upon him by my other Springers and made it quite clear that he wasn’t fond of members of his own species. Nor was he particularly fond of cats and would only tolerate them from a distance. The other animals on my little farm – chickens, rabbits, birds, horse, ferrets, and goats – he was indifferent to.

Besides behavioral issues, Kirby had medical issues as well. He dripped urine like a continuous iv drip. He would bark relentlessly at night requesting to go out. As time went on, the barking got more and more frequent to the point where no one could sleep. An extensive physical consisting of various tests at Tufts suggested that he may have brain tumor which was causing his constant urine drip and odd behavior.

Despite his issues, Kirby was just an elderly dog who craved human companionship and love. Time passed by with no interested potential adopters for Kirby. Kirby became part of my family. He was loved no more, no less than my other Springers. He became more tolerable of the cats and although he never cared for my other Springers, Trixie and Cody, he seemed to secretly like Bella and Lily, my two youngest Springers.

July 3, 2009, Kirby suffered a debilitating stroke that left him with a head tilt and sideways gait. He started losing weight and losing ground. It was becoming difficult for him to maintain his balance. At night, his barking became more and more relentless and demanding. Kirby’s quality of life was quickly diminishing. It was apparent that soon a decision would have to be made – a decision I wanted to avoid at all costs but knew I would probably have to face in the near future.

Soon, Kirby could barely walk, was urinating and defecating on himself, and was unable to enjoy life as a result. When he was unable to get up and ended up defecating or urinating on himself, he knew it and would bark furiously to call my attention to clean up the mess. I contacted my vet and made an appointment for him to be evaluated on July 27th. It was agreed that it was time to let Kirby go. For the most part, I had been lucky as my most of my past dogs had grown very elderly and had passed away in their sleep. I only had one prior dog, my beloved 17 year old Patches, who refused to cooperate and pass in her sleep. Patches was the first dog I had ever had to arrange to make that fateful trip to the Rainbow Bridge. After that experience, I decided, if I ever had to make a decision like that again, I would arrange for the vet to come to the house and allow my dog to pass in the comfort of familiar surroundings. Well, six years later, here I was facing that decision once again. My vet agreed to come to my house on Wednesday morning, July 29th and send Kirby on his way journey home.

Kirby spent that last morning attempting to follow me around the barnyard as I fed and watered the chickens, horse, goats and rabbits. Kirby had always enjoyed running around the barnyard as I did chores. Course, he couldn’t run anymore and was having difficulty even walking without falling down. Soon, he was tired and fell for the last time, unable to get up despite his determination to do so. I carried him over to a blanket I had laid on the ground and he watched me as I finished my chores from there. He also had grilled steak for breakfast as we waited for my vet to arrive.

Soon, it was time to say goodbye……The end was peaceful, Kirby passed quietly in the comfort of my arms in his beloved barnyard surrounded by the sounds and scents he was most familiar with. In life, Kirby had tried my patience like no other ever had. The washer and dryer spent more time washing Kirby’s soiled bedding than my own clothes. Countless nights Kirby would bark, I would get up, let him out, go back to bed, my head barely hitting the pillow, when the barking would begin again…the pattern would continue all night. Yes, I did get frustrated, however, one look into those eyes and all was forgiven. After all, Kirby was only a dog. He didn’t know that his barking would result in my lack of sleep and decrease my ability to function. He wasn’t barking to torment me (although, I must admit, some nights I could have sworn he was). All he knew was that I was the person who loved him and cared for him….I was the person he could count on to fulfill his every need – especially his need to go. Although Kirby was a foster dog, he WAS a beloved member of our family that will never be forgotten and will live in our hearts forever.

Rest in peace, Dear Kirby – I’ll see you someday at the Rainbow Bridge.

Michelle