In 2024, my life changed dramatically when my rent was raised beyond what I could afford. My dog and I found a new place, hoping for stability, but after a work trip, we returned to find our home flooded from leaking pipes. The property management company told us we had to leave for repairs, which were supposed to take a couple of weeks but ended up stretching into months. With nowhere to go and no one to stay with, I searched for dog-friendly hotels and motels, moving from city to city across Southern California. The longer we stayed in motels, the more my savings dwindled, and I couldn’t work without a permanent address.

As the repairs dragged on, I realized I wouldn’t be able to afford the rent even if we could return. Finding a new place was tough, especially with my dog being a 60-pound pitbull, but I was lucky to finally secure a home in February 2025. I was relieved, thinking things would get better, but despite hundreds of job applications, I struggled to find work at 63 and 64 years old. After nine months, I finally got a low-paying delivery job, but most of my earnings go toward gas. My dog, who is now 10, has had skin cancer for several years and needs surgeries from time to time—she needs one now. She is my world, and it breaks my heart not to be able to help her.

Now, I am running out of resources to pay rent and fear eviction. I am 64, not in great physical condition, and have been injured on the job three times. I care mainly about my dog—she is my child, my everything. Any help you can give would mean the world to us and help keep us together, safe, and healthy.