By Beth Rosen

Since her story first appeared on www.hsus.org almost two weeks ago, I have kept in touch with Fallon Mack. She gave me updates on the well-being of Peanut and Max at their foster home in Arkansas. Mack always mentioned her hope of soon finding Cali.

Though heartbroken by the uncertainty of Cali's well-being, I could tell that Mack was slowly putting the horror of Hurricane Katrina behind her. She has since moved to northern California, a place she always dreamed of living (Cali is named after California), and began her new job at a time-share company. She's started looking for an apartment.

Today, at 4 p.m. I repeated my now-ritual search for Cali on www.Petfinder.com, after a colleague told me that many more pictures were live. As I scanned the pictures of the lost Chihuahua terrier mixes found near the home of Fallon's grandfather, Abrahm Causey, where Cali was left, I did not find any image with Cali's distinctive white belly and white tail on a tan body.

If Cali had not been rescued, it seemed unlikely that she would have survived. She had had nothing to eat since September 2. I called Mack and left her a message to look on the website as more pictures were posted.

At around 4:30 p.m., Mack returned my call. I figured she wanted to tell me that she had not found Cali on www.Petfinder.com. On the contrary, Mack said that her little Chihuahua had been found; in the home where she was left.

Much to my amazement, the plucky little dog had survived. When Causey returned to his home yesterday (the first time he was allowed back since he was forced to evacuate in early September), he saw something dart through the decaying and mildewed debris of the house to the stairs. He followed, and in the bathroom, behind the toilet, he found Cali, reduced to skin and bones.

This little dog, who had not eaten in four weeks, who was living in squalor without interaction with any other living creature, had survived enormous odds.

Over the last few weeks, I am awed, not only by the enduring will to live of these animals, but also by the people affected by the hurricanes, the people I've had the honor of coming to know. Despite losing nearly everything, moving to a strange new city, and starting a new job, Mack never lost hope, remaining optimistic and strong.

When all of her “babies” are with her again in California, she is throwing a party in Cali’s honor. I've been invited, and I only wish I could be there to help celebrate with Mack, Max, Peanut, and especially Cali.     

Beth Rosen is the manager of planning and evaluation at The HSUS.