Kim Kavin's first encounter with Blue--
"He seemed shell-shocked--as any baby would be after riding five hundred miles in a cage in an RV in the middle of the night--but he let me hold him, and he gave me a kiss, and he looked up at me with big brown eyes that said, 'Trust me, I'm a survivor.' "

"It was there [at my veterinarian] that I'd get my first real insights into the place where he'd started his journey, along with my first inkling that something about his situation had been horribly, horribly wrong."

"I paused for a moment, trying to digest what she'd just told me.
" 'I'm sorry, ' I said, shocked . . . 'Would . . . you . .. please . . . say that again?'
" 'Ninety-two percent, ' she said. 'They kill almost all of them. We pulled him out at the last minute. He was headed for the gas chamber.' "

(front flap)
When journalist Kim Kavin decided to adopt a puppy, she went to her computer, clicked on an online photo, and submitted an application. She had no idea that the adorable brindle puppy--advertised as healthy and available near her New Jersey home--was a last-minute rescue from a gas-chamber shelter in North Carolina. Kavin quickly saw that Blue was happy and friendly, but his manner indicated that he'd endured some unknown ordeal. Curious, she traced Blue's history all the way back to a long, dismal row of cages where, at the time of his rescue, he 72 hours to live.

Little Boy Blue is the true, shocking exposé that describes a brutal ongoing reality that prevails in many of America's taxpayer-funded shelters. But it's also the inspiring story of a grass-roots canine rescue network of dedicated animal lovers whose continuing efforts are saving countless dogs from unwarranted death.

(back flap)
Kim Kavin is a widely published award-winning journalist and a volunteer worker dedicated to fostering puppies who have been saved from high-kill shelters, but who have not yet been adopted. She lives in Long Valley, NJ, where her hobbies include cooking, wine tasting, and hiking local park trails with her dog Blue.