Dogs would never abandon their humans – even when they get old. Sadly, the same cannot be said of humans when it comes to senior pets.
Thankfully there are superheroes, also known as animal rescuers, who take in the unwanted dogs and give them the love and care they deserve.
Rochelle Steffen is the founder of Mac’s Mission, a special needs dog rescue based in Jackson, Missouri. The small nonprofit rescues dogs nationwide that would otherwise be euthanized. Many are neonatal puppies with cleft palates or hydrocephalus as well as senior dogs like Lindt.

The 14-year-old dog was surrendered to a shelter by her owner who stated she couldn’t keep her because she was moving to an apartment. The senior dog is beyond heartbroken and frightened by her new surroundings.
Mac’s Mission took her in and renamed her Lindt – she was previously called Butterscotch. Rochelle posted a video of Lindt on TikTok that brought many to tears. She wrote, “Lindt is so shut down. She is 14 and has just been ripped away from everything she’s EVER known. You should really get a plan in place for your dog.”
Countless people took to the comments to say that they would never abandon their dog. Sadly, this happens far too often. Rochelle replied by saying, “This woman said the same thing and now she’s moving into an apartment. She also severely neglected this dog.”
Lindt arrived with overgrown nails, covered in flea, and a large tumor hanging off her stomach. She had her nails trimmed, received a warm bath, and had surgery to remove the tumor. The rescue posted, “This is what you guys help support. This is the 20th dog we have rescued in just a few days. And we can’t rescue anymore until we win $1 million, adopt some of these out, or foster some of these out. Thank you for letting us save this precious girl and she will be available for adoption when she is finished getting vetted.”
Lindt’s sad story has touched the hearts of many dog lovers. Several commented that they have a plan in place in case something should happen to them to ensure their dog is cared for and doesn’t end up at a shelter.
One dog owner wrote, “I literally have a plan played out in my will for my pup — including who she should go to, how to pay for it, who needs to visit, etc — she’s my child.”
Another suggested people should start assigning godparents to their dogs.

Lindt deserves to live her golden years in a loving home. People near and far are encouraged to adopt as the rescue only asks that people come to the shelter to finalize the adoption. They will happily set up meet and greets but only with approved adopters as they are not open to the public. Anyone interested in adopting can fill out their online application here.
Mac’s Mission’s federally trademarked slogan “i am pitbull strong” refers the rescue dog named Mac who inspired the rescue. Rochelle adopted the pit bull on April 11, 2011 and had ten glorious years with him before he crossed the Rainbow Bridge. “His superhero legacy will live forever in the ripple effect of this special needs rescue,” wrote Rochelle.
Check out all the dogs up for adoption and consider opening your heart and home to a senior or special needs dog.
INTERESTING FOR YOU
Four Years after My Husband Went Missing, a Dog Brought Me the Jacket He Was Wearing on the Day He Disappeared

Maggie had finally accepted that her husband had vanished on a solo trip four years prior. Maggie felt a surge of hope as their ancient family dog unexpectedly appeared, holding her husband’s faded jacket in its mouth. She followed the dog into the forest, motivated by something beyond reason, and discovered a truth beyond her wildest dreams.
I recall the day Jason departed like it was yesterday. He’d been fighting a bad attitude for months, yet this morning he appeared almost calm. He informed me he wanted a day alone in the mountains with Scout, our beloved black Labrador. Our children, too young to understand, were content simply watching their father scratch Scout’s ears, his first smile in weeks breaking across his face.
“Are you sure you don’t want company?” I inquired as I carried our toddler son, Benny, while our four-year-old daughter, Emily, squeezed my leg.
But he never returned.
The hunt began as soon as he failed to return that night. Friends, neighbors, and search teams explored the forest, shouting out his name, their voices echoing in the vast woods. Weeks passed, and everyone began to look at me with a horrible combination of sympathy and helplessness. After months, they proclaimed him legally de:ad, which I had no choice but to accept, though I was never completely at peace with it.
Life continued on. Jason’s hiking boots remained by the door, and his coffee mug, which had a chip on the rim, was never moved. When the kids asked about him, I’d tell them stories and do my best to keep his memory alive.

Then, on a calm Saturday, as I lay on a blanket watching the kids play in the backyard, I observed movement in the bushes. It was a thin, scruffy dog with a matted and muddy coat. At first, I did not recognize him. But then my heart skipped a beat. It was Scout. After all these years, here he stood, old and fragile but unmistakable.
“Scout?” I whispered, and as if in response, he took a step closer, a familiar green jacket dangling from his mouth—Jason’s favorite hiking jacket. I barely had time to process before Scout turned and started trotting toward the trees. Driven by a mix of hope and fear, I told the kids to stay put and followed.
Through the winding paths, over damp leaves and under low-hanging branches, Scout kept leading me deeper into the forest. And just as the sun began to dip below the trees, we came upon a small, weathered cabin nestled into the woods, almost camouflaged against the thick trunks and greenery.
Inside, moving around as if he’d never left, was Jason.
His hair was long and knotted, with a scruffy beard covering his face, and he appeared to be at ease in his alone. But he wasn’t alone—a woman stood alongside him, close and comfortable, as if they had a life together. My pulse hammered as I grasped the scope of Jason’s secret life.
I pushed open the door, and the creak startled both of them. Jason’s eyes widened, his face a mixture of amazement and acceptance.
“Maggie…” he murmured, his voice too calm and nonchalant.

“Jason,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I looked to the woman next to him, then back at him. “What is this?” I asked, unable to believe what I was seeing.
His response dashed any hope I had left: “I found something real here, something I couldn’t have back there.” He looked to the woman next him and said, “Sarah and I have built a simple, meaningful life.”
His words felt prepared and hollow. Every reason he offered only fueled my sense of betrayal. I’d been grieving him for years, raising our children alone, convinced that he was no longer with us. And now, here he was, rationalizing a full abandonment that had ruined the life we had created.
Without saying another word, I turned and walked away. The guy I had loved, the father of my children, was a ghost I no longer recognized.

The next morning, I sat across from a lawyer, feeling stronger than I had ever been. “I want a divorce,” I replied, “and I want support for our children.”
That day, I let go of the life I’d been holding onto. I realized that Jason had chosen one route, but I had to construct my own, one based on love, honesty, and stability. I would shield my children from a world full with false promises, and I would never look back.
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