Rambo: A Life Cut Short

By Liz Belilovskaya
Editor’s note: We would’ve loved to have Rambo in The “Monsters” section but sadly, Liz does not have any picture of him so we decided to honor him by telling his story on the blog instead.

I met Rambo by accident.

A little while back, I was employed at a children’s gymnasium where I managed an afterschool problem and supervised birthday parties. On a particularly hot summer day the temperature inside the gym became intolerable. Our air conditioning happened to be busted at the time, so I decided to open the doors to the parking lot on the side of the building; it was closed to the public and used by employees of the various businesses that shared it.

The kids remained inside – yes, they were supervised – as I ventured outside by myself. I heard a noise that seemed to be coming from the yard. Thinking it might be a raccoon, I inched a little closer trying not to startle it. To my surprise, instead of a raccoon I found a huge animal cage. As I inspected it, a large but friendly dog appeared our off the little house situated within.

This was Rambo, a Rottweiler/pit-bull mix. The chain leash hanging around his neck was hitting the metal bars as he happily ran back and forth inside the cage. He was clearly excited to have company and seemed desperate for attention. As I had kids waiting for me, I went back inside, but I knew that those eyes would bring me back.

Eventually, Rambo and I became very good friends. It turned out that he was my boss’s dog, but because she had cats when she found him on the streets, he lived in the lot. Although he was fed daily, he was walked only occasionally. My boss was an older lady who lacked the energy to give him proper exercise. But Rambo was a social dog and needed more than a feeding schedule, so I decided that I would take care of that part.

Rambo and I jogged, played, ate, and hung out together. He was the best part about my job, and the kids grew very fond of him as well. I loved him very much.

Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. We soon learned that the company next-door was expanding, and since the parking lot was their property, they wanted the cage gone so that they could use it as their commercial space. I started looking for a home for him. I had rescued four cats a few months prior and couldn’t take Rambo in myself.

It was a truly disappointing search. People couldn’t, wouldn’t believe that a mix like Rambo could be as affectionate as he really was, so the poor animal was regularly rejected. I cried a lot during those months, uncertain of his future. Then, it seemed, there was silver lining. My boss’s son said he would take him.

Three months after Rambo moved in with his new owners, I requested to see him. This is when the guy admitted to giving Rambo to a pound (or a shelter). He would not tell me which. I never saw Rambo again, and I still don’t really know what happened to him.

He was a truly beautiful dog, both inside and out. Everything about him was trusting, kind, and pure. I cannot imagine, understand, or accept what happened to him. He never bit, attacked, or hurt anyone. His only fault is that he barked, but that’s what dogs do, we can’t really hold this against him.


About Liz Belilovskaya:

Professional dog lover, cat hoarder and animal rights advocate. I’m a mix of super Soviet ethnicities and believe the day should start at the crack of noon. I am also a cancer buttkicker as the community manager of I Had Cancer—social support network for cancer fighters, survivor and supporters.