Yeti’s Surgery Fundraiser

This is Yeti. And this is our desperate plea to save him—again.

We rescued Yeti from the euthanasia list the week before Thanksgiving. We weren’t planning to take in another dog. We told ourselves we were full. That we’d wait until after the holidays. But then… we saw his eyes.

They were wide and quiet and full of sorrow. The kind of eyes that have already known heartbreak, but still—somehow—hold onto hope.

We said yes to Yeti, thinking we were signing up for a neuter and a routine knee surgery.

We had no idea what was coming.

Yeti came down with kennel cough. Antibiotics were prescribed. But the meds made him vomit—and he aspirated into both lungs. Suddenly, we weren’t treating a knee… we were fighting to keep him alive.

He landed in the ICU, struggling to breathe. He couldn’t eat. His body began to shut down. Two weeks after discharge, he crashed again. Another ICU stay. Severe aspiration pneumonia. We truly didn’t know if he’d survive.

But Yeti kept fighting.

Then, just as he started to recover, he fell off the couch. The fall caused a partial torsion—his organs shifted and he went into shock. It triggered yet another ICU stay, and a clotting disorder was discovered.

Yeti has been to hell and back. He’s endured more in a few months than most dogs will in a lifetime.

And yet… he’s never stopped being gentle.

He’s never lost that quiet spark of hope. The one that made us stop in our tracks the first time we saw him. The one that still says, “Please don’t give up on me.”

Today, Yeti is stable. He’s silly and sweet and soft in every way. He follows us everywhere, melts into the couch during storms, and patiently waits his turn for treats. His tongue hangs out of his mouth now because so many of his teeth had to be removed from old trauma—but he doesn’t care. He just wants to be close to someone who loves him.

But here’s the part that breaks our hearts—he’s still in pain.

Yeti has two torn cruciate ligaments. Without surgery, every step hurts. Both knees need TPLO surgery—each one over $4,000. We’re looking at $8,000+ just to give him the pain-free life he deserves.

We’ve already maxed ourselves out saving him—ICU stays, specialists, medications, diagnostics… it’s added up fast (more than $25,000 spent on Yeti’s medical costs so far!). But how can we look into those eyes and tell him we can’t afford to fix his legs?

We are begging you—please help us.

Please help Yeti finish the fight he started when he chose to survive.

Every dollar brings us one step closer. Every share could be the one that changes everything. If you’ve ever loved a dog, please—we need you now.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for seeing Yeti. Thank you for believing he’s worth saving.

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You can make a difference by donating today to Dog Squad.

Dog Squad is a registered 501(c)(3) nonprofit based in Greenville, South Carolina. We are a shelterless organization, meaning every dog in our care lives in a loving foster home—not in a shelter or facility. We receive no government funding and are entirely powered by the generosity of our community. Every life we save is made possible by people like you.