April changed everything.
And you had something to do with it.
This month: a new record, 862 bracelets. A pack of 15 dogs. A spay/neuter partnership. And new stories about our furry friends to share with you.
What April taught us.
We didn't see it coming like this. Not at this scale, not this fast. April was the month when everything we'd been building since January started to look like something big. Orders exploded. The work on the ground kept up. And what we found on the dirt roads of northern Mauritius this month changed the way we see what's next.
But before we tell you about April, there's something we need to talk about.
A lot of you read this letter without having ordered yet. That's okay. We're building something here, and trust has to be earned, one month at a time. So this DogsLetter is for everyone. The loyal customers who've been here since January. And the ones still watching, still doubting, still wondering if this is real.
It's real. And April is the most concrete proof we've had since the very beginning.
8,620 meals. Your record month.
In January, there were 48 of you = 480 meals. In February, 76 bracelets = 760 meals. In March, we'd eased off = 32 bracelets, 320 meals. In April: 862 bracelets = 8,620 meals funded in Mauritius!
Every bracelet sold in April meant 10 meals landing in a bowl set down on a dirt road, in the north of the island, at sunset. Not a promise. A fact.
If you don't have a bracelet yet, now's the time to be part of this.
FREE shipping on 3+ bracelets · 1 bracelet = 10 meals funded in Mauritius
The trunk that never really empties.
Since April, there's always a bag of kibble in the scooter's trunk.
It's not organized. It's not planned. It's become a reflex. We're eating at the beach and see two dogs by the side of the road — we stop. We drive past the store and there's one waiting in the heat under a car — we stop. We head home at night on a road we don't usually take and run into one we've never seen — we stop.
The official runs, the bowls, the rounds — that's one thing. But what changed in April is that feeding became constant. Not a mission. A way of life.
Not a single dog we came across this month left hungry.
Gratte-Gratte's pack. It's grown.
Remember Gratte-Gratte? We introduced him to you in March. A skinny dog, super affectionate, surprisingly trusting for a stray. Back then, he was with two or three others. In April, we found the same crew — but there aren't two or three of them anymore. There are fifteen.
Gratte-Gratte's pack. Fifteen dogs. Same road, every evening.
The pack has its codes. Its ranks. Its leaders and its shy ones. Some show up the second we cut the engine, tails wagging, noses already reaching for our hands. Others hang back, ten meters away, watching. We leave them a bowl off to the side. We step away. They wait until we've turned our backs.
Gratte-Gratte is at the heart of it all. A pack leader in his own way — not through force, through trust. He sits next to us while we set down the bowls, like it's normal, like we've always been there.
And then there's her. A female, hanging back. We realized she'd given birth. We didn't see her puppies. She's not doing well.
Her. We don't know her name yet. We don't know where her puppies are.
She always hangs back. Always at the same distance. Not aggressive — terrified. There's a difference, and you learn it by spending time on the ground. An aggressive dog, you can feel it. He warns you. She just disappears. She fades away. As if she learned long ago that the best thing to do is not to exist too loudly. We realized she'd given birth recently. Belly still swollen, teats visible. But no puppies. We searched. We came back several times, looked around, in the bushes, under the cars parked along the road. Nothing. We don't know what happened to her litter. We'd rather not think about it too much.
The Piou Piou. The brother who changed.
Remember the Piou Piou — the fearful mom and her two puppies we'd been taming since March? This month, one of the two brothers took over. He eats first. He growls. He takes up all the space. The other one backs off. So does the mom.
The two brothers. One takes over. The other waits.
It's not his personality. It's not meanness. It's hunger. It's the street. It's what growing up with no safety net does to a dog, with no certainty there'll be something to eat tonight.
The brother who growls doesn't know yet that he has someone in his corner. He'll learn.
Bandit. There's something we need to tell you.
We didn't see him in March. We didn't see him in April either. We went back to his spot several times. Same neighborhood, same road. Nothing. We know he sometimes hung around the beaches and hotels up north. We hope someone put a bowl down for him there.
Bandit was the first. The one who started it all. The blow from the stick, the howl, and the certainty that we couldn't just watch anymore without doing something. Feedogs was born that day.
Bandit. The first. The one who started it all.
If he's gone, he leaves with that. And with knowing that for months, every evening we came through his neighborhood, there was a bowl waiting for him.
That's why we do what we do.
Not just for the stories that end well. For all the stories.
Shop Feedogs bracelets1 bracelet = 10 meals funded · FREE shipping on 3+
Louspoir. The partnership we've been teasing since March.
We got in touch with Sandra Pennucci, from the association Louspoir — a French organization that operates in Mauritius and works on spay/neuter for stray dogs.
Feeding is essential. But it's not enough. The female from the big pack just gave birth. The Piou Piou puppies are growing up on the street. And without spay/neuter, it all repeats itself, generation after generation.
Spay/neuter in Mauritius is complicated. Vets are few and far between. So are resources. But it's the only path to something that truly changes things in the long run.
What we're doing in practice: we share our on-the-ground information with them. Every pack we know, every road we cover, the number of dogs, their habits. Louspoir can use that data to plan their interventions.
The trust we've earned with these dogs by feeding them night after night — that's what it's for too. We can get close to them. We know their codes. And for a team coming in to spay and neuter, that's priceless. Every meal handed out since January wasn't just a meal. It was a step toward something bigger.
You're part of this. Whether you've ordered or not.
A bracelet on your wrist.
10 meals funded for them.
Gratte-Gratte. The Piou Piou. The female from the big pack. Bandit, wherever he is.
Shop Feedogs braceletsFREE shipping on 3+ bracelets · Every order counts.
Thank you.
In January, there were 48 of you. Today, we've passed 1,000 bracelets.
And some of you have never ordered. You've been reading since the start. Following, watching, still doubting a little.
That's okay. We've built this trust month after month, with real numbers, real photos, real stories. We're not asking you to take our word for it. We're just asking you to believe enough to give it a try.
They were abandoned. They have no one.
Except you.
The Feedogs team, from northern Mauritius.
A bracelet on your wrist.
10 meals funded for them.
Every order directly feeds the dogs we tell you about.
Shop Feedogs braceletsFREE shipping on 3+ bracelets · Every order counts.