This story also hits home with me (as I'm sure it does all animal lovers).
I have a cat named "Elliot", he's two years old and I've had him since he was a couple months old. He was living in my ex-girlfriend's car engine when he was a month or two old, and despite her efforts to lure him inside he was ultimately too skittish. Eventually, one night a thunderstorm was coming (this all occurred during late-June of 2016) and he, seemingly instinctively sensing the storm, wandered onto her front porch and she managed to get him in.
I saw him a day or two later, he was skin and bones, had an infected eye, and looked like he was dying to me; I wasn't sure he'd make it. But with food, a climate-controlled home and a lot of TLC he made it. By the time my ex and I separated I was paying for the cost of his care and he was living in my apartment, so I kept him (and would've put up a helluva fight had she protested -- fortunately she didn't).
We're best buds nows. He responds with a chorus of 'meows' to the phrase "who's hungry?" and "who wants a treat?". He turns his head at the call of his name, and will follow me from room-to-room much like a dog. He's the only cat I've ever met in my life who's more attached to people than places, and who is so socially engaged and dependent. I feel really lucky to have him.
When I read stories like this it cuts really deep. Just takes a little empathy and compassion to imagine if that dog was one of my own and the level of pain I'd feel. Not to mention a general level of compassion for an innocent animal suffering like that. They give us the truest and most unadulterated form of unconditional love we can possibly know.
Sending my thoughts and well-wishes to the Mayo family tonight. Just brutal, especially for his kids.
Below are a couple pictures of Elliot. The first was a few days after his rescue, the latter was taken in November of last year.
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