There are personal stories behind the hard numbers of Nevada’s nation-leading home foreclosure rate: of families flummoxed by subprime loans; of couples who bought champagne dream-homes with Kool-Aid finances; of homeowners tricked into signing unscrupulous leases; of kids forced to live in cars because their parents didn’t understand the nuances of interest-only mortgages.

Cats rescued by the Heaven Can Wait Sanctuary wait for adoption at PetSmart on Fort Apache and Tropicana

Then there are stories like Milo’s. He was tethered to a rusting steel chain when he was found in the backyard of a million-dollar home. The chain stretched just far enough for him to reach the grass where, with dogged determination, he clawed a shallow hole that served as sleeping quarters at night. Surviving the day was another story. At the right time of the day, he could find shade. When the sun moved but so, he was baked—not enough give in the chain to allow him to fully escape the glare. Before neighbors found him and fed him, who knows how long he went without food. So they kept feeding him, hoping against hope the former owner would return for him.

“The resident that had lived there had six dogs originally. When she moved out, after letting the place fall apart, she took all of the little dogs with her and left Milo [who’s a Rottweiler mix] in the backyard,” reports Jacqulyn Richey, the bouncy-voiced real estate agent who rescued him. “Milo was chained on a short chain, with no shelter from the hot sun and nothing to lay on. To say he was filthy is like saying that Las Vegas gets a little warm in the summer. We managed to get the chain unattached from his neck and coaxed him into the van. Once he was free of the house, he started to warm up to us. After he got to our house, it was apparent that he was never allowed inside before. Now, several days later, he is getting the hang of things, and he enjoyed his bath immensely. He’s doing well now.”

Milo’s now on the waiting list for Pups on Parole, in which female inmates at the Jean Correctional Center socialize abandoned dogs. He’s one of the lucky ones, one of the dozens of pets—dogs, a giant pig, a 10-foot boa constrictor, even some flying squirrels (she’s allergic to cats)—Richey has rescued from foreclosed homes over the past 25 years.

Only now, she’s busier than ever. Every week, it seems, Realtors call her about abandoned pets. They don’t want to get involved because it’s not their bag, so she becomes the Pet Rescuer. By the time Richey gets to the animals, many are weak and scared. Milo viciously growled at his saviors. Twice, Richey says, rescued dogs had to be put to sleep for biting and unsociable behavior.

Bob Keasler teases a cat

Saving all the orphaned pets would be a Sisyphean task. Too many foreclosures—one filing for every 166 households, highest in the nation; May saw a total of 5,235 foreclosure filings, according to the RealtyTrac research firm—make it difficult. Who knows how many animals are never found—either they escape or perish.

When you’re about to lose your house, Harold Vosko says, emotional ties to pets get cut pretty quickly—it’s either them or you.

“They may have a 50-pound dog, but the apartment doesn’t allow 50-pound dogs, only 25-pound dogs,” says Vosko, co-owner of the Heaven Can Wait Sanctuary, whose motto is “Where homeless animals get a second chance.” “Or if they do allow 50-pound dogs, they charge more, which is a problem because if they could afford to pay more for the dog, they probably wouldn’t be getting kicked out of their home.”

Other times, Vosko says, owners are leery of contacting adoption shelters because they’ve mistreated their pets. He’s seen dogs with burn marks—owners used them to douse cigarettes. More troublesome, says Vosko, are animals that haven’t been spayed or neutered. Cats have mated with strays, producing litters—abandonment leading to overpopulation.

Amy Puhl (right) and her nephew Christian Greene look at the pets for adoption

“Last year, we spayed and neutered 7,000 animals that would have otherwise produced 70,000 new animals,” Vosko says. “We’ve seen this in rich neighborhoods and poor neighborhoods. But it’s more pronounced among the poor because often they don’t have $200 or $300 to spay and neuter each pet.”

Rosie is a German Shepherd who lived in a mobile home park. One night, in the moonlit darkness, his owners vanished, throwing Rosie out. Abandoned and homeless, Rosie survived off the kindness of neighbors who fed him and provided water. In helping Rosie, Vosko says, the neighbors actually enabled him—he had food, water and some companionship. They should’ve immediately called an adoption shelter.

“They were unwitting accomplices,” Vosko says, “to a problem that’s bigger than people think.”