Kurt Russell, Me, & 85th Street

The Journey of Kurt Russell and RESCUES ON85th

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This is the true story of how Kurt Russell, myself, and this mission began on 85th Street, in South Eastlake, Alabama. Our neighborhoods should be places we take pride in—places where we build connected communities filled with lasting memories. But not all memories are pleasant. Every day, I walk my dogs along 85th Street, and all too often, I encounter stray dogs, abandoned by owners who no longer want them. Some are even tossed from cars to avoid paying shelter surrender fees. The cruelty doesn't end there. The stench of death lingers along the streets—animals starved to death, their rib cages visible, flies circling their lifeless bodies. One rainy day, I found a dog that had passed away, and the sight haunted me. I couldn’t bear the thought of this soul being taken to a landfill like trash, discarded alongside the refuse of life.

Determined to understand what happened to these animals, I visited landfills and animal control facilities. What I saw forever changed me. In the shelters, some dogs desperately squeezed their noses through the gates, longing for a human touch. Others cried out, hoping to be taken home, while many had already given up—heads lowered, waiting for the end. Euthanasia became their sentence, not for any fault of their own, but because there was simply no space or no one willing to open their home. They understand death—they smell it, they sense it in the air, no matter how much we try to hide it. You can see it in their eyes.

I had helped raise litters before, but as time passed, life’s demands took over, and my desire to make a difference faded—until the day I met him. Kurt Russell.

Walking down 85th Street, I saw a trash can rolling, with a scraggly tail sticking out. The dog stopped, stared, followed, and then stopped again. A woman in a car honked her horn, and he cautiously followed her at a distance. I hurried home with my dog but couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to help him. I rushed back, determined to find him. I had no money and nothing fancy to offer, but I had love and a place where he would be safe.

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That’s when everything changed. I reached out for help—begged, even—until five local superheroes (veterinarians and businesses) and a community of 25 others rallied together to save him. They donated grooming services, vaccinations, food, and supplies, giving him a chance. His fur was matted, filthy, and tangled with leaves and thistles. After four baths, I finally saw his true colors—literally. My son overheard me sweet-talking to this new dog and peeked into the bathroom. “Mom, I know that’s not another dog,” he said, amused. When I explained the situation, he said, “Name him Kurt Russell.” And so, the name stuck.

Kurt Russell went from a street dog to a well-groomed, healthy pup with his own bed, food, and toys. He was finally able to relax, his eyes slowly closing after what must have been days or weeks of being on high alert, just trying to survive. That night, he curled up under me—a gesture of trust I will never forget. As I listened to his snores, I couldn’t help but wonder how many other “Kurt Russell's” are out there, struggling to survive.

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When I found deceased animals, I tried to take them to pet funeral homes to provide a proper burial before the city could take them away. This became the turning point. I knew I had to do more, and that’s when RESCUES ON85th was born. It’s been a long and difficult road, but one filled with purpose. I envisioned a place where every lost or abandoned animal could find shelter, love, and a second chance.

With time, the community began to join in. Groomers, veterinarians, and even businesses that make wheelchairs for animals with mobility issues stepped up. We are still working on finding consistent food donations and other resources, but we continue to spread awareness and educate people about the humane treatment of animals. Now, we even have a mascot—a shepherd named Manny, who helps raise awareness and collect supplies. We’re working on creating a cat mascot named Mittens.

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I volunteer my time at RESCUES ON85th, asking for nothing in return—not a cent. I do this because these animals deserve a voice. They deserve to be remembered, not discarded. They deserve the chance to live in loving, permanent homes. Walking a mile in someone’s *paws* is just like walking a mile in someone’s *shoes*. RESCUES ON85th stands for that change—for compassion, dignity, and life.

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