From Rescue Dog to Inspiration
That’s my Cindy Loo — she picked that name herself, but that’s a story for another day. She’s the reason this business exists. Cindy was a shelter dog, rescued from the streets of Trenton, NJ by Trenton Animal Shelter. She’s sweet, she’s beautiful, and like anyone who’s spent time in a shelter, she’s been through some things. Her medical issues and that gorgeous black coat make her especially vulnerable in the heat and humidity — and she’s really not a fan of the cold, either.
She’s otherwise a healthy, active dog who needs plenty of exercise. But when the weather cuts her walks short, she gets frustrated — and that frustration shows up as behavioral issues. I needed a way to get my girl through a New Jersey winter and a New Jersey summer without either one holding her back.
Then I saw a reel about a mobile dog gym, and my heart melted — the same way it did the first time I looked into Cindy Loo’s eyes. As I watched more videos of dogs with orthopedic issues, senior dogs, even a blind dog, all getting to walk or jog safely in a mobile gym, I found myself in tears. I knew right then this was the answer — not just for Cindy, but for so many dogs like her.
From that moment on, bringing a mobile dog gym to life was the only thing I wanted to do.
Zoomies2Go Van Conversion
How Cindy Loo Chose Her Own Name
I went to the Yardley kennels, where the Trenton Animal Shelter houses its overflow dogs, to see a couple of other dogs there. I wasn’t planning to look at Cindy because her name at the kennel was Bella, and I didn’t want to confuse Bingo with another dog named Bella.
The dogs I wanted to see were either already adopted, at another location, or were very muscular bully breeds that were simply too big and strong for my wife to feel comfortable handling.
The staff member at the kennel said, “We have another dog that fits what you’re looking for.” She brought out Bella, the dog who would become Cindy Loo.
She was the perfect size, around 40 pounds. Small enough to pick up in an emergency, but big enough to hold her own with Bingo.
We decided she was the one. We would just have to change her name.
I asked my Facebook friends for name suggestions. There were several good ideas, but many of them were the names of my aunts who had passed away.
The day came when we brought her home. I was sitting on an ottoman beneath a bookcase in our living room. On the shelf behind me were the ashes of my parents and a couple of other pets who had passed away.
Cindy came and sat in front of me. She looked at the shelf and then looked back at me. I continued to pet her. She did it again: looked at the shelf, then looked at me.
I told her, “That’s my mom and dad. That’s our cat, Tigger, who came with the house, and our other dog, Bella. That’s why we have to change your name. We don’t want to confuse Bingo.”
She seemed to understand and went to lie down.
The next day, we were sitting in that same spot in front of the bookcase, and I started asking her, still Bella at that point, how she felt about various names.
I went through a couple of names and got no response. When I asked about the name Daisy, I heard my aunt’s voice in my head say, “Don’t be naming a dog after me.” That made me smile. I miss my Aunt Daisy.
She didn’t respond.
Then I asked about Gladys, another aunt. I heard her voice say, “Don’t be naming a dog after me either.”
Again, no response.
Before I could ask about the name Lily, I heard my mom’s voice say, “Name her Cindy.”
That was the name of a dog my brothers had when I was a baby, the dog they never took care of like they promised, and the reason I was always denied getting a dog. Mom didn’t want to have to take care of another one.
One of my favorite characters in Dr. Seuss stories is Cindy Loo Woo, a warm, caring, empathetic and courageous child. With the holiday season having just passed, I had seen several versions of her around that time.
I asked, “How about the name Cindy Loo?”
She finally responded by licking my chin a couple of times.
Since she had sat stone-faced through all the other names, I knew that was a definite positive response.
And from that day on, she has been Cindy Loo, a warm, caring, empathetic and courageous dog.
