Dorothy Dodenhoff

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@Jolie_Miller09 Absolutely support it

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

https://t.co/A4cEawc9bo

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@Evelyn001d Most definitely.

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@RedLineReportt Absolutely I support it.

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@RedEagleUpdates Hell no!

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

https://t.co/rF5tdD2fkS

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

https://t.co/FFAII5DtRz

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

https://t.co/NdKZWRIsIv

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

https://t.co/Qw48S5hEtM

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@Evelyn001d Absolutely.

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

https://t.co/hjkFiKNEkQ

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@realJohnJohnJr Go back to where you came from. You are not welcome here.

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@TrustDML Barbarians. Do disgusting. 😢

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

https://t.co/5Dloq6bDDT

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

https://t.co/I4W1W0GODV

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@ExMuslimAz Barbarians

[FeelGoodThoughts @feelgoodtale]

On Wednesday in Alabama, a Walker County Sheriff's Office Deputy came across a man walking down the road with an oxygen tank and learned he is a Disabled American Veteran trying to walk/hitchhike from the Jasper area to Huntsville for a Dr. Appointment he was told he could not miss. With no way to get there, he said he started walking.

The deputy acted quickly and escorted the Gulf War Veteran to the Cullman County line where a Cullman Sheriff Deputy picked him up.

The deputy then transported him to the Morgan County Line where a Morgan County Sheriff Deputy took over and met a Madison County Sheriff Office Deputy in Huntsville who finished the trip and took the man to his appointment.

After an overnight stay, we were happy to do it all again today..... in reverse to help get the man back home. We are thankful for our Veterans and were honored to play a small role in supporting this man who gave a great deal for our country!” 🇺🇸 ❤️

Credit: Morgan County Sheriff's Office

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@itsrosesm Bye bye

[Dorothy Dodenhoff @dodenhoff_d]

@kimberley11209 Absolutely

[FeelGoodThoughts @feelgoodtale]

WARNING: You may want a dog after reading this🥹❤️

They threw him from the back of a truck like he was nothing.

It was evening when the skinny, diseased little dog staggered into my driveway. His fur was falling out from severe mange, his skin was bleeding, and the smell of infection clung to him like death itself. Ear mites. Worms. Open sores. He looked like a creature the world had already given up on. I had two tiny Yorkies at home and I was terrified he would infect them, so I kept him outside the fence. But somehow, despite being weak and starving, he slipped under the gate and crawled beneath my shop building. I asked my partner to get rid of him while I went to dance class that night.

But when I came home, everything had changed.

My partner looked at me and quietly said, “I fed him. He’s actually a really nice dog.” From that moment on, the dog followed me everywhere. Not because he was trained. Not because he had to. But because somewhere deep inside, he had already decided I was his person.

A few days later, I was moving my horses back into the pasture when one bolted toward the wrong gate. Before I could react, that broken little stray sprang into action. He circled around me, cut the horse off perfectly, and herded every horse through the correct gates like he had been doing ranch work his entire life. When he finished, he stopped, sat down near the last gate, and looked at me with those quiet eyes as if asking, “Did I do good?” That was the moment my heart gave in. I walked back to the house and told my partner, “We’re saving this dog.”

I named him Solo.

For four long months, we treated his mange, healed his bleeding skin, cleared the worms from his stomach, and cleaned the mites from his ears. Underneath all the pain was a beautiful Australian cattle dog and shepherd mix who had probably never known kindness before. The vet guessed he was only five or six months old. Just a baby. Yet somehow, despite everything humans had done to him, he still trusted us completely.

And then one day, Solo repaid that love with his life.

My neighbor owned aggressive pit bulls. One broke into my fenced yard and attacked me. I still remember the terror of feeling teeth sink into my body. But before it could do worse, Solo launched himself at the dog and fought it off. Later, animal control put that dog down. My partner bought me an ax handle afterward and told me to keep it nearby in case the dogs returned.

A month later, they did.

Two pit bulls charged me in my own pasture. I screamed, and from somewhere across the property, Solo came running like a bullet. He threw himself into a fight he had no chance of winning — not because he was fearless, but because I was in danger. While he battled them, I grabbed the ax handle and fought beside him until the dogs finally fled.

They nearly killed him that day.

The vet bills for both of us were enormous, but the sheriff looked me in the eyes afterward and said, “If that dog hadn’t been here, you probably wouldn’t be alive.”

Solo was only fifty-five pounds. He didn’t bark much. He wasn’t intimidating. But heaven help anything that tried to hurt the people he loved.

We had him for seventeen years.

Seventeen years of loyalty. Seventeen years of silent companionship. Seventeen years of a dog who never forgot that someone once chose to save him instead of turning away. In 2019, Solo crossed the rainbow bridge, and even now, years later, not a single day passes without me missing him.

People say dogs don’t understand rescue.

But I believe they do.

Because every time Solo looked at me, every time he walked beside me on mountain trails, every time he put himself between me and danger, it felt like he was saying the same thing over and over again:

“You saved me… so I’ll spend my whole life saving you too.”