On a chilly, rainy day, NYPD Officer Michael Pascale became a hero in more ways than one when he crossed paths with a little black dog named Joey. As he patrolled a public park in his squad car, he couldn’t ignore the sight of Joey, huddled amid discarded needles and broken beer bottles.
Joey was in a dire situation, tethered to a fence by a sturdy chain around his neck, drenched from the rain, shivering, and clearly abandoned. The pitiful look in Joey’s eyes tugged at Officer Pascale’s heartstrings, and he knew he had to take action.
“The first thing that sprang to me was that I needed to get him out of here,” Pascale shared with The Dodo. What followed was a heartwarming story of rescue and adoption that would change both their lives forever.
Officer Pascale wasted no time. He took Joey to the Animal Care Centers of NYC shelter in Brooklyn, and as he dried the grateful pup with a towel, a special bond began to form between them. To Pascale, Joey was not just an animal; he saw a soul in need.
“I don’t see an animal,” Pascale emphasized. “I notice a soul. And that is not something I avoid.” He texted a photo of the forlorn pup to his wife, who didn’t hesitate to respond, “Bring him home!” The couple was ready to adopt Joey, with just one obstacle in their way.
The Animal Care Centers informed Officer Pascale that Joey had to undergo a mandatory 72-hour stray hold. This waiting period ensures that even neglected or mistreated animals have a chance to be reunited with their owners. Despite their eagerness to adopt Joey, Pascale and his wife understood the importance of this waiting period.
During those long 72 hours, Officer Pascale visited Joey every day, forming an even stronger connection with the sweet dog. Finally, when the stray hold was lifted, Pascale fulfilled his promise to Joey, adopting him and vowing to protect him from cruelty and neglect.
Joey’s transition from a cold, wet stray to a beloved family member was complete as he showered Pascale with grateful kisses. They returned home to begin a new chapter in their lives together.
Today, Joey enjoys exploring New York City with his dad and snuggling on the couch with his mom. Officer Pascale notes that Joey has become quite the “Mama’s Boy.” While Joey may not be perfect—he occasionally rummages through the garbage and still dislikes going outside in the rain—he is content and cherished.
In the end, all Joey ever truly desired was a loving home, and thanks to Officer Pascale’s compassion, he found that and more. Joey’s heartwarming journey reminds us of the incredible bond that can form between humans and animals and the transformative power of kindness and rescue.
The pet I’ll never forget: Ella the puppy threw up on me, snubbed me and after 10 years decided to love me
Mum, Dad, my brother Michael: everyone in the family got more affection from our ridgeback-staffie cross. And guess whose bed she used to poo on…
I think the tone was set when Ella threw up over me on the way back from the Dogs Trust. She was three months old, rolling around on the back seat between me and my twin brother, Michael (we’d just turned seven), and wasn’t enjoying her first trip in a car. She could have been sick anywhere – over the seat, over the floor – but for some reason she decided to climb on to me first.
It was the start of a beautiful but strangely one-sided friendship. Ella, a ridgeback-staffie cross, was the perfect dog: playful, energetic, naughty and tolerant. She would let us poke and prod her without complaint, turn her ears inside-out or dress her up in T-shirts or the thick woollen poncho my Greek Cypriot grandma knitted her for the British winter. And she was endlessly loving, at least to the other members of the family. Me? Too often it was as if I didn’t exist. If Michael and I were sitting on the sofa, she’d bound up to him. If I came home after a day out with my dad, he was the one she’d jump at. If I tried to take her for a walk by myself, she’d drag her feet and insist that I fetch my brother.
To add insult to injury, about once a year she would do a poo in the house. Not just anywhere, though: she’d climb the stairs to my room and leave it in a neat pile on top of my bed.
I can’t pretend I wasn’t offended by Ella’s attitude – I loved her just as much as anyone. But it took me a while to realise that in her eyes we were both bitches fighting for our place in the pack. I read that dogs are 98.8% wolf, even yappy little chihuahuas. Ella was a definite she-wolf and my mother (she who opened the tin of dog food every night) was the undisputed alpha female. Ella could handle that fact, but she didn’t want to be the omega female. That was me.
Working out the reasons for Ella’s lack of sisterhood, understanding that her indifference was atavistic and not just casual, didn’t make me any less jealous of my brother, who always took great pleasure in the fact that Ella seemed to prefer him. But I resigned myself to the situation. And then one day (happy ending, anyone?) everything changed. I must have been 16 or 17, we’d been away for a fortnight in France, and when we got back it was me she ran up to first, whining and twisting with pleasure at seeing me again. After that it was like all those years of competition had never happened. We were best friends for ever, or at least for the couple of years she had left. Ella finally loved me.
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