Welcome! This is where we share adoption stories, upcoming events, and updates from the rescue. We’re an all-volunteer team that’s been finding loving homes for Labradors, Lab-mixes, and their friends since 2007 — grab a cup of coffee and see what’s new.
Some dogs come to us with stories that are difficult to imagine. Tara is one of them.
Before Tara became a Labradors and Friends dog, she survived something we may never fully understand.
She was found trapped in a water trough in the backyard of an abandoned home. No one knows how she got there. No one knows how long she had been struggling.
We only know that when someone finally found her, only her head was above the water.
Found With Only Her Head Above Water
A neighbor spotted Tara and called Animal Control. She was removed from the property and taken to Riverside Shelter.
She had survived the water trough, but her ordeal wasn’t over.
Tara entered the shelter on June 22. Frightened and unsure, she found herself in another unfamiliar place, surrounded by noise, strangers, and everything that comes with life in a shelter.
And Then She Waited
Tara spent more than two months at the shelter waiting for someone to choose her.
But the frightened, shut-down dog people saw in the shelter wasn’t necessarily who Tara was. Fear had taken over, and the longer she remained there, the harder it became for her to show anyone the dog hiding underneath it.
Eventually, Tara was red-listed and scheduled to lose her life.
August 28 was supposed to be Tara’s last day.
Instead, it became the day everything changed.
The Day Everything Changed
Tara had already survived more than anyone should have asked of her. Now she needed someone to give her the one thing she couldn’t give herself:
A way out.
On August 28, Labradors and Friends said yes to Tara.
The dog who had survived being trapped in a water trough, spent more than two months waiting in a shelter, and was now out of time was finally leaving.
But rescue doesn’t magically erase everything that came before it. Tara didn’t walk out of the shelter suddenly understanding that she was safe.
She was still frightened. Still unsure. Still trying to make sense of a world that hadn’t given her many reasons to trust it.
And that’s okay.
We weren’t going to ask Tara to suddenly understand that everything had changed.
We were simply going to give her time.
Time Is Exactly What She Gets
Time to decompress. Time to learn that people can be kind. Time to discover that gentle hands don’t have to be frightening. And most importantly, time to realize that no one is giving up on her.
Tara is currently in boarding, where our dedicated walking volunteers are spending time with her every day. They’re giving her consistency, patience, and positive experiences while she begins to adjust to life outside the shelter.
For Tara, rescue isn’t about rushing toward the next milestone. It’s about giving her the safety and space to move forward when she’s ready.
Tara doesn’t know she’s safe yet. But we do. And we’ll give her all the time she needs to figure it out.
Tara’s Story Is Just Beginning
We don’t yet know who Tara will become as she learns she’s safe. That’s something she gets to show us in her own time.
What we do know is that she won’t have to figure it out alone.
This is Chapter One of Tara’s story. And for the first time, what’s ahead of her is filled with possibility.
He entered the shelter system as a young dog, and at just 1 year and 11 months old today, Jesse has spent a huge part of his young life growing up behind kennel doors.
He waited through changing seasons, a transfer between shelters, and hundreds of nights without a home of his own.
On August 29, 2026, the waiting finally ended.
Jesse was free.
473 Days of Waiting
esse arrived at Coachella Valley Animal Campus as a stray on May 14, 2025. On December 30, 2025, he was transferred to Riverside Main, where the waiting continued.
Today, Jesse is listed as just 1 year and 11 months old. Think about that for a moment: 473 days in the shelter system for a dog who hasn’t even celebrated his second birthday.
The shelter wasn’t simply somewhere Jesse stayed while waiting for a family. For much of his young life, it was the only world he knew.
As the months passed, shelter life took its toll. Jesse became increasingly overwhelmed, frightened, and shut down. And as a young black dog—dogs who can too easily be overlooked—he continued to wait while the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months.
Somewhere underneath all that fear was the young dog Jesse should have had the chance to be. He just needed someone to give him that chance.
Then Everything Changed
After 473 days, Jesse was running out of time.
He had been placed on the euthanasia list for Wednesday.
We knew we wanted to help him, but wanting to save a dog and being able to save one are two very different things. For Jesse to leave the shelter, he needed somewhere safe to go. He needed a foster.
And then, someone said yes.
With a foster home waiting for him, Labradors and Friends could say yes too.
Jesse was going to be safe.
The Freedom Ride
On August 29, 2026, Jesse walked out of the shelter and into the beginning of a completely different life.
For the first time in 473 days, there was no kennel waiting for him at the end of the day. No shelter noise. No more wondering whether anyone was coming for him.
Jesse didn’t know it yet, but he had just been given something incredibly important:
Time.
Time to decompress. Time to feel safe. Time to learn what a home feels like. Time to discover that people can be kind. Time to finally be a dog.
For a young dog who has spent so much of his life in the shelter system, those ordinary things aren’t ordinary at all. Jesse now gets to experience a world that most dogs his age have known all along.
The Road to Adoption Begins
Jesse’s Freedom Ride wasn’t the end of his rescue story. It was Chapter One.
After spending so much of his young life in the shelter system, Jesse doesn’t need anyone to rush him toward what’s next. He needs time to decompress, settle into his foster home, and begin discovering who he is outside of a kennel.
There will be new sounds, new routines, and new experiences. He’ll learn what it means to have a soft place to sleep, people he can trust, and a home where he can finally exhale.
And we’ll get to learn about Jesse, too — what makes him happy, what makes him feel safe, what kind of home will help him thrive, and who this young dog becomes when fear no longer has to define his days.
Jesse gets to set the pace now.
When he’s ready, we’ll help him take the next step on his road to adoption. Until then, he gets something he waited 473 days to have:
A chance to simply be a dog.
Follow Jesse’s Journey
Jesse’s story is still being written, and we’ll be sharing updates as he settles into foster care, builds confidence, and continues his road to adoption.
For now, we’re celebrating the moment everything changed:
473 days waiting. Not yet two years old. And finally, free. 🖤🐾
Jesse is safe today because a foster stepped up when he needed one. Every foster home gives us the opportunity to say yes to another dog waiting for a second chance.
Lilo’s story with Labradors and Friends began after her life suddenly changed. She had originally come to the United States from Germany with her family, but when it was time for them to return, they couldn’t take her with them.
Lilo was surrendered and needed somewhere to land.
Thankfully, people stepped up.
A wonderful foster opened her home to Lilo, and a trainer who quickly saw just how smart this girl was began working with her. Lilo soaked it all up, learning an impressive list of commands and showing everyone what a bright, special dog she was.
Then Lilo moved into an LAF foster home, where it didn’t take long for her foster mom to fall completely in love with her, too. ❤️
For the next few weeks, Lilo got to simply be part of a family while we waited for the right one to find her.
And then they did.
A family looking for a Giant Schnauzer sibling for their dog, Vader, came across Lilo and thought she might be the one.
There was only one problem.
They lived six hours away.
That didn’t stop them.
They made the drive to meet her—and after a 12-hour round trip, they headed home with a new member of the family. 🐾❤️
And looking at the pictures now, we’d say it was worth every mile.
Lilo didn’t just get a home. She got a whole pack. 🖤🐾
Today, Lilo has Vader, canine friends to pile up with, a home filled with young kids, and a 3-year-old who is completely in love with her.
After having her world turned upside down and being left behind once, Lilo will never have to wonder where she belongs again.
She is home. She is loved. And she has a family—and a pack—to call her own.
Happy Tail, sweet girl. You found exactly where you belong. ❤️
There’s nothing quite like a LAF Bingo Night! Our last event brought together friends, supporters, plenty of laughs, and a little friendly competition—all while helping dogs in need. If you missed the fun, take a peek at what Bingo Night is all about… and then come join us for the next one!
Missed This One? Join Us for the Next Bingo Night!
Ready to get in on the fun? Join us for our next LAF Bingo Night for prizes, laughs, great food, and another chance to help dogs in need. Bring your friends, come early for dinner, and make a night of it!
Wednesday, November 4, 2026 Bingo: 6:00–8:30 PM Join us at 5:00 PM for an early dinner Baran Mediterranean Restaurant & Bar 5645 E. La Palma Ave #170, Anaheim, CA 92807
A force, a fighter, a magical unicorn—and forever my Bear.
In April 2010, a plea went out from South Central Animal Shelter in Los Angeles for a 10-week-old puppy who couldn’t use his rear legs.
The moment I saw the plea, I knew I had to go get him.
My sister and I drove to Los Angeles and pulled this fuzzy little puppy who was somehow still absolutely full of energy. The moment I saw him, I knew his name.
“You are Fozzie Bear.”
And Fozzie he became.
We had no idea what was wrong with him. The shelter had taken X-rays of his rear legs, but nothing obvious explained why this little puppy couldn’t walk. I hoped with everything I had that it wasn’t something serious.
An MRI gave us the answer we didn’t want.
Fozzie had a badly damaged vertebra near his shoulder blades that was compressing his spinal cord. His spinal cord wasn’t severed, but it had suffered significant compression and damage.
At only about 12 weeks old, Fozzie underwent major spinal surgery—a dorsal decompression laminectomy—to relieve the pressure on his spinal cord.
Afterward, my little Bear was miserable.
He couldn’t walk. He couldn’t move the way a puppy should. And for perhaps the only time in his life, Fozzie seemed defeated.
Watching his spirit disappear broke my heart.
But it didn’t last.
He Had Work to Do
Over the next year, Fozzie and I learned an entirely new way of life.
There was physical therapy. Swimming. Laser therapy. Massage. Range-of-motion exercises. Controlled walking. And endless hours of helping his body and brain relearn how to work together.
Fozzie worked incredibly hard.
Slowly, he began to stand.
Then he began to move.
His right rear leg would cross over the other one and trip him. Sometimes his legs seemed to go every direction except the one he intended.
He would fall.
And then he’d get back up.
Again.
And again.
You could almost see his brain working to make those legs move.
And move he did.
There were people who helped tremendously during those early months, and Fozzie had a village around him. Two of the people who helped with his rehabilitation believed he might be better off with someone who had more time and financial resources than I did. I even let one of them keep him for several days at a time because I wanted Fozzie to have every possible chance.
For a while, I wondered whether loving him meant I should let him go.
But every time Fozzie saw me, I saw the answer.
I was his person, and he was my Bear.
I might not have had everything someone else could offer him, but there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to give him the life he deserved.
I made him a promise.
I would never give him up, and I would never give up on him.
And I didn’t.
Then Fozzie Became Fozzie
Fozzie didn’t simply learn to walk.
Fozzie learned to LIVE.
He was tenacious. Happy. Goofy. Bossy. Stubborn. Naughty. And completely spoiled rotten.
He wanted to be top dog, and somehow all the other dogs seemed to agree that this slightly wobbly little dictator could have the job.
The legs we’d once prayed he would be able to use became one of his favorite ways to express his displeasure.
If Fozzie wasn’t getting his way?
STOMP.
If he’d decided he’d done quite enough swimming during physical therapy?
STOMP. STOMP.
Apparently, after working that hard to make his legs function, Fozzie felt entitled to use them to lodge formal complaints.
And while he learned to walk again, perfectly straight lines were never really Fozzie’s thing.
When he got really excited, he’d start moving sideways. Sometimes he’d get SO excited that he’d also start spontaneously peeing—while still moving sideways—which meant the pee went flying everywhere.
At the time, I would get so frustrated with him for doing it all over the house.
Today?
I’d give almost anything to have him do it one more time.
That was Fozzie.
My spoiled rotten lil Bear.
A Life He Fought For
Fozzie loved car rides, walks, romps, and trips to the beach.
He tolerated swimming—which was understandable considering how much of it he’d been forced to do for rehabilitation. 😂
Massage and laser therapy were much more to his liking.
And he loved Maya, his physical therapist.
Fozzie continued seeing Maya on and off throughout his life because keeping that body moving required work. He never stopped working at it.
He also had Donnie.
Donnie and Fozzie were puppies together. While Fozzie was fighting to walk again, Donnie was fighting his own battle with distemper. Somehow those two little survivors found themselves growing up side by side.
Fozzie’s physical challenges never defined his life.
If anything, they seemed to make him more determined to squeeze every possible bit of fun out of it.
Nothing got him down for long. There was always somewhere to go, something to investigate, somebody to boss around—or possibly some cream cheese to acquire.
Fozzie was a force.
And somehow, at the same time, he was my magical unicorn.
The Little Bear Who Started Something Bigger
Fozzie changed more than my life.
Fozzie was the beginning of Labradors and Friends’ Paw Up! Fund for medical dogs.
His journey showed us what could happen when a dog with a complicated and expensive medical condition was given the resources, time, treatment, and people needed to fight alongside him.
People helped Fozzie get back on his feet.
And because of Fozzie, we created a way to help the next medical dog who needed someone to believe they could get back on theirs.
Over the years, Paw Up! would help LAF say yes to dogs who needed surgeries, specialists, rehabilitation, and medical care they might otherwise never have received.
My little Bear’s fight became part of something much bigger than either of us could have imagined when I drove to South Central to pick up a fuzzy 10-week-old puppy who couldn’t walk.
That is Fozzie’s legacy.
One Fight We Couldn’t Win
During COVID, one night Fozzie was lying in his bed looking at me.
Just staring.
I knew something wasn’t right.
I hadn’t seen that look since he was a baby after his spinal surgery, when he had been so miserable and defeated.
I gave him some love and told him it was time for bed.
The next morning, Fozzie wouldn’t eat breakfast.
As I was getting dressed to take him to the veterinarian, he collapsed.
We rushed to the emergency hospital, where they discovered a bleeding mass on his spleen.
Before anyone even told me what it meant, I knew.
After everything Fozzie and I had fought together, my fighter finally had something we couldn’t fight.
Because it was during COVID, I couldn’t even say goodbye to him inside the hospital.
We were under a white tent with the sound of cars and road noise around us. It wasn’t how I would ever have chosen to say goodbye to my Bear, but the veterinary team did everything they could to make an impossible moment gentle.
Fozzie looked at me.
And just as I had known all those years earlier that he belonged with me, I knew what he was telling me now.
It was time.
I held him.
I told him I loved him.
And I told him it would be okay—just as I had done so many times throughout his life.
Except this time, it was the last time.
And my heart has never been quite the same.
Forever My Bear
There are still moments when I walk into a room and think I see him.
Sometimes I can almost see him playing.
For a split second, my Bear is there.
Then I realize it’s a memory.
But what memories he left me.
It wasn’t a perfect life. But it was a good life, and it was a loved life.
I have never known another dog with Fozzie’s will, spirit, and absolute zest for life. He taught me more than I could ever have taught him.
He taught me how to be strong.
He taught me how to overcome.
He taught me to find joy even when life is hard.
And perhaps most importantly, Fozzie taught me that no matter what life throws at you, you should always stay just a little bit naughty—in a good way.
He was a 10-week-old puppy who couldn’t walk.
He became a dog who helped inspire a medical fund that would give other dogs their chance.
But to me, he was simply Fozzie.
Foz the Bear.
My tenacious little Foz.
My spoiled rotten lil Bear.
There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for him, except give him up or give up on him.
And I never did.
If love could have kept him alive forever, he would still be here.
