RESCUE ME

THE PATRON SAINTS OF LOST-CAUSE CANINES

A STRAY WANDERING THE STREETS OF EAST DALLAS TENDS TO ATTRACT ATTENTION.

Reuniting lost dogs and owners is a familiar process around here, expedited by microchips and social media.

Our frequent favorable experiences with doggie drifters make it easy to forget nightmarish scenarios playing out across town, where sections of southern Dallas are riddled with sick, dying and grossly at-risk animals whose chances at happiness hover around zero.

But once you know about what’s going on, “it keeps you up at night,” says White Rock area resident Marina Tarashevska, for whom Dallas’ oft overlooked canine perdition is all consuming.

A year ago, this petite, raven-haired Ukrainian native gave up her part-time marketing job to concentrate on her militant, in-the-trenches animal activism.

“It isn’t something I can do a little,” she says. “Once you know, once you start, you can only focus 100 percent.”

Her public Facebook page contains graphic evidence of a horrific problem, one image after another of mangy, frightened, mutilated animals or, worse, their carcasses, bones and skulls.

“People have gotten offended. They tell me they don’t want to see dead dogs in their feed. But we have gotten more and more rescuers by showing what is really going on,” says Tarashevska, who adds that even when she lived in Detroit, a city whose stray dog problem was reported by Atlantic magazine and other national media, she did not see circumstances as distressing as those in Dallas. (That is in part because winters in Detroit kill much of the stray population, she notes.)

She understands images of dogs injured by cars or puppies left to die in tightly knotted bags are tough to see. It is easier on the psyche, not to mention the social life, to forget southern Dallas, where she suspects the loose dog and dog-dumping crisis is an extension of deeper societal problems. Southern Dallas is contending with some 8,700 loose dogs, according to a recent Boston Consulting Group study for Dallas Animal Services. The problem goes mostly unseen by residents north of I-30 (where there is not a significant number of loose dogs).

Once she understood the degree of suffering — which required no studies, just a visit to the impacted area — she dedicated her life to saving abandoned animals.

As she utilized social media to garner attention, thousands offered support — and there are countless ways one can help, she assures.

Tarashevska’s level of commitment means long, hot or freezing days salvaging dogs from perilous places. It involves exposure to nervously gnashing teeth, contagious skin conditions, angry pet owners and, sometimes, biting criticism. Vacations, dinners out, clean carpets, general sanity and regular sleep all are part of a past life.

“But there are a lot of us,” she says. “There are so many people helping, and that is what keeps you optimistic.”

Hundreds of Dallas residents joined Tarashevska in her crusade to save animals citywide, and many others do similar work independently or through one of hundreds of animal-rescue organizations in the Dallas-Fort Worth area.

If the following stories of sacrifice and salvation — not to mention the irresistible images of healed, happy pups prepping for their forever homes — move you, see the “Ways to Help” boxes on pages 35 and 38.

By the time of publication, we hope, many of our featured fosters will have been adopted, but never will there be a shortage of amazing animals waiting for a new best friend.