The good guys thread

[momcat]

Good for you, Mom!!! A perfect response! Your little Quinn is absolutely adorable and I'm sure he's as sweet as he looks. I wish him only the best things life has to offer, he deserves nothing less.
I was a child support & paternity specialist for 31 years and at one time covered consent conferences in Family Court to establish paternity. One hearing involved the legal establishment of paternity for a beautiful baby girl with Downs Syndrome. When asked, the guy denied the baby was his; when asked why he thought he wasn't the father this creep glared at the sleeping baby and said with a tinge of disgust, "I couldn't make something like that." The hearing officer & I sent the case straight to the judge. And Judge Callahan was not at all kind to him - the Judge literally went up one side of him and down the other. Don't know if this guy actually had an attitude adjustment when the Judge was done with him.

[kuhio98]

Man leaves $1,000 tip for dog's surgery

Good people, not to mention good tippers, do exist. Christina Summitt knows that for sure now after what happened Saturday night.

The paw-print tattoo on Summitt's wrist often leads to conversations with strangers about her love of animals; she's a volunteer with a pit bull rescue group and spends lots of time finding homes for animals of all kinds.

While tending bar at the Holiday Inn in Clinton, New Jersey, Summitt got to chatting with a friendly couple before the night got busy. The man asked her if she had dogs of her own; she confided that her "baby," a Great Dane-black Labrador mix named Tucker, was at the veterinary hospital after having emergency surgery hours earlier after he swallowed a hard plastic ball. She was worried about him.

The man said something about surgery being expensive. She confided the estimate was around $2,700, but she would do whatever she had to do for the dog, whom she adopted in 2011. Summitt, 37, works three jobs -- full-time as a chef at the hotel, Saturdays as a bartender, and as a food prep worker two days a week at a deli in her town. Her husband works full-time and Summitt has three stepchildren.

The couple ordered drinks and dinner at the bar. When it was time to close out their $80 tab, the man filled out the receipt with a tip -- for $1,000.

Summitt said she started shaking and crying. She showed the bill to her sister, who tends bar with her, to make sure she was seeing three zeros after the 1.

"I went back over and said 'Sir, I cannot accept this, what is this for, why would you do this?'" she said. He told her to put it toward Tucker's medical costs.

"I just stood there in shock. I walked around and hugged this couple. They said, 'We'll be praying for Tucker.'"

Hotel manager Michelle Satanik told CNN she followed up with her comptroller and also tracked down the customer this week to verify that the gesture was legitimate. CNN has attempted to contact the generous tipper through Summitt, who kept his name anonymous for his privacy.

"Apparently this man does this quite frequently. Just a really nice guy and humanitarian," Satanik said. "I have never ever seen a $1,000 tip like that."

Summitt shared the story on Facebook and CNN iReport with a photo of the credit card slip and a picture of Tucker being held by her 16-year-old stepson before they left the dog at the hospital for surgery. A Facebook page she follows called "Why Bartenders and Servers Hate People" reposted the story on Easter Sunday with this caption: "This is a place for us to vent but every so often, especially on holidays, we have to be thankful for the amazing customers that are out there."

Summitt says she's since gotten messages of support from all over the world.

"I would also love nothing more than to publicly thank this couple in front of the world. I've never seen a random act give so many people so much hope," she wrote.

Tucker is recovering at home.

[kuhio98]

Woman Returns Locket Containing Dead Sister’s Remains

SACRAMENTO-

A woman who lost her sister to the flu virus in January, lost a memento of her sibling recently, devastating her all over again.

Bianca’s sister, Andrea Godina, was staying in South Korea when she got the flu, and died from the virus in January.

Since then, Bianca has worn a silver locket, containing some of her sister’s remains.

She lost the necklace in the parking lot of a Sacramento Jamba Juice.

A stranger found it, realized it probably had significance to someone, and posted a picture of it on Facebook.

The photo and plea was re-shared and spread on social media, even getting a mention on the FOX40 morning news.

After the broadcast Wednesday, calls came pouring in about whom the necklace may belong to.

Later that night, FOX40 was there as the necklace was returned to the sister.

Bianca was moved to tears as she placed the locket back on.

[mon]

He is a perfect little boy. Don't listen to anyone who says different.

[kuhio98]

Puppy rescuer takes dogs on 4,200-mile odyssey to loving arms

he crowd shuffles from foot to foot, heads down, counting the minutes before they have to say goodbye.

“I love you buddy,” a man whispers, cradling a small bundle of fur. “Have a good trip.” In a large gathering, he stands alone with his thoughts.

This is a familiar scene in Lafayette, La. Every other week, people bring abandoned pets they have rescued to a parking lot and wait for a truck that will take the dogs not just to a better life, but to life itself.

Susan Willard points to a puff of exhaust: “The dog savior.” A rumble from the distance is punctuated by the drumbeat of thumping tails.

A huge tractor trailer belches to a stop. Out pops a small man with a big smile. “Hi, everyone! You excited?”

“Yeah!” the crowd choruses.

He grins, “I’m Greg.”

Twice a month, Greg Mahle hugs his wife and son goodbye and leaves his home in Zanesville, Ohio. He drives to Houston; Lafayette, La.; Birmingham, Ala.; Altoona, Pa., and north to New England before returning home, a 4,200-mile trip. All along the way he picks up strays once destined to die.

In Birmingham he is greeted by a voice so Southern, it could cook grits. “Black Jack is going to New York,” a woman laughs, holding up the pet she saved. “He’s going to be a Yankee!”

Mahle takes the pup into his arms and nuzzles him. “All right, Black Jack! You ready for a ride? It’s going to be fun.”

This remarkable odyssey links volunteers who rescue unwanted dogs with families who offer loving homes. "Who are you waiting for?” Mahle asks a tearful couple in New England.

“Daisy.”

“Here she is. Right into your arms. Thank you for saving a life."

Mahle is as constant as the need. He's made this trip every other week for nearly a decade. That's more than a million miles. Imagine driving around the world 42 times.

Some nights, you can see those miles on his face. "It's OK,” Mahle mumbles wearily. “It's all good.”

To succeed, he has to count on more than his fingers. An army of volunteers show up at each stop to help walk and feed 74 dogs. Susan Willard sighs and says, “He is a doggie savior. That’s why we come.”

Mahle charges so little for his service, it barely pays the bills. Some weeks it doesn't. But he likes the world he’s created: “I'm happy in it.”

It's a world where a chocolate-colored dog named Nigel can keep a single mom and her 5-year-old daughter close even while Christine Davies was deployed with the National Guard in Kuwait.

Christine and her daughter, Lylia, fell in love with Nigel's face online. It gave Lylia something to talk about besides her absent mom.

"We'd talk about how excited we were,” Davies says, “all the things we were gonna buy for him. All the places we were gonna take him."

Nigel is part pit bull, part black Lab. Out of all the dogs in the world, why pick him?

Lylia touches her face. “He’s got brown eyes just like mine.” Then she strokes her hair: “Same color, too.”

Mahle saves thousands of dogs, but every year, backyard breeders produce millions more than they can sell. Most are abandoned. Some shelters in the South are so swamped with strays, nine out of 10 of those dogs are killed — to make room for more.

That’s what keeps the puppy rescuer on his endless road. Mahle doesn't just haul dogs to loving homes; he lives with them along the way. Throughout the trip he sleeps on a small mattress in the trailer, cuddling the little ones to keep them calm.

Before the dogs greet their new families, "I'm going to make sure they're happy,” Mahle says. “I'm going to make sure they're bouncy. I'm going to make sure they're clean.”

That's a lesson he learned running a restaurant, in another life. "When the dog comes out of the truck,” he says, “I want it to be just like a plate coming to your table." A feast of happiness.

Back home, Mahle's wife, Adellia, admits: “It's hard, you know. Single mom status every week!" But she was once a waitress in his restaurant and knows what it takes to deliver smiles.

When Mahle pulls into Putnam, Conn., after five days on the road, he takes Lylia Davies by the hand. They peer into his darkened trailer. “Nigel’s wagging his tail for you."

Lylia begins to hop. “Nigel! Nigel!" she squeals.

Mahle disappears into the darkness and emerges with the dog in his arms, stopping to whisper in Nigel’s ear: "This is forever after, man. Let's do it!"

The dog bounds into Lylia’s waiting arms. Licks her face.

"He loves me,” Lylia cries. “He loves me!" Her mom, who has had more than her share of sadness recently, dabs at a tear of joy.

"Lylia’s going to remember Nigel when she's 80,” Mahle says. “She won't remember me; she won't remember all this. But she will remember Nigel. And Nigel will have taught her something."

To surrender a dream leaves life as it is — and not as it could be.

[kuhio98]

Matthew Nalywaiko Helps Hundreds of Single Working Moms With Much-Needed Repairs

Sometimes a broken down car or leaky faucet are just added stressors in the lives of already struggling single working mothers. But Matthew Nalywaiko is doing something about that – times more than a hundred.

His organization, Serve A Little, has helped more than 200 women, including those whose husbands are away serving in the military, by matching volunteer handymen, mechanics and construction workers to complete "honey-do" projects like minor home and car repairs.

"The name, Serve A Little, comes from the idea that you don't have to do much to make a major impact in someone's life," Nalywaiko says. "It might only take a few hours for a mechanic to fix the car or for someone to fix the door in a house, but for that person it can mean the world."

For Nalywaiko, 32, of Sonoma, Calif., giving back has been life changing. A severe case of dyslexia, coupled with ADD, had him wondering if he would ever have a purpose in life.

"I could barely read, so I couldn't imagine how I was going to make a living or find someone who would want to marry me or accomplish anything," says the high-energy Nalywaiko, a videographer.

But he did just that. He managed to get a job in construction after graduation, "building million-dollar staircases in multimillion dollar homes," and married Amanda, a social worker.

Then in 2009 he launched Serve A Little.

"We all have the ability to impact somebody's life," Nalywaiko says. "It's just a matter of looking outside your own world and realizing there are needs right next door."

Helping single working moms, including those trying to get an education, is something Nalywaiko says has an immediate positive impact.

"It's not a population that gets a lot of respect," says Amy Ethington, a Santa Rosa College student advisor who refers student single moms in need of assistance to the Serve A Little program. "And here is Matthew giving them respect for what they're trying to accomplish."

Nalywaiko doesn't just help out his own community. He discovered a Haitian village of about 10,000 where more than a dozen kids had drowned trying to cross the treacherous river to attend a school nearby. Nalywaiko has raised money through 80 for Haiti, an effort connected to Serve A Little, to build a closer school, using local labor and materials to boost the the economy.

"Children shouldn't have to die just to get an education," Nalywaiko says.

[kuhio98]

My Four-Legged Guardian Angel
By Gayle Trent

Had you seen Duke, it isn’t likely you’d have called him an angel. In fact, not even I called him “angel.” I called him “my baby.” Duke was a St. Bernard, a gift to me from my parents on my tenth birthday.

I arrived home from school that day and was immediately sent to the garage. And there he was, quite an armful already, but I gleefully picked him up and buried my face in his neck.

Early on, I taught Duke to rub noses with me. This kept me from getting drooly dog kisses, and it was our own special way of showing affection. When Duke was relegated to a doghouse in the backyard, I’d slip outside to sing him to sleep at night. We had a special relationship. He was “my dog”; I was “his girl.”

One summer night after Duke was fully grown, I went out to refill his water bowl. I retrieved the bowl and filled it at an outside spigot. “There you go, baby,” I said, putting the bowl on the ground in front of him.

I hugged him around the neck, and he growled. Taken aback and more than a little hurt, I went to stand beside his house. “You might growl at other people, mister,” I said, as he was extremely protective of me and had been known to growl at others,“but you do not growl at me.”

My lecture was silenced when Duke came to me, jumped up and placed a massive paw at either side of my waist. He emitted another low, menacing growl. I was unable to move, and my dog’s behavior was beginning to frighten me. He was my best friend, my guardian. Was he going to turn on me now? I noticed that his face was turned away from me and that he was staring toward the road that ran in front of our house.

As I watched in the direction of Duke’s gaze, I spotted a man emerge from the shadows and walk down the road. Duke held me against the side of his doghouse until the man was gone. When he was satisfied that there was no longer a threat, he touched his nose to mine and let me go. As he thirstily drank from his water bowl, I hugged him and thanked him for his continued protection.