When people question the value of Susan Marino's work, she tells the story of a 2-year-old boy she cared for many years ago when she was still a young nurse. Sean had spina bifida and had already endured 10 surgeries, including a tracheotomy and a colostomy. He was paralyzed and his misshapen spine was crushing his lungs.

"One day while we were eating breakfast I said, 'Poor Sean. He will never be able to do the things so many other children can.' Before I even had the words out of my mouth his mother looked at me with daggers in her eyes.

'How dare you! If that is the way you feel you have no business taking care of my son. Sean is like no other, he is unique and special and as long as you are comparing him to others you will not see him and his ability.'

"This was a tough lesson to learn," Marino said in a recent e-mail interview. "But it is one that has stayed with me, and the concept of this lesson is the foundation on which I run Angel's Gate."

After working as a registered nurse for more than 20 years, Marino went on to found a hospice in New York state for animals with special needs. People thought she was crazy, she said. But now, 18 years later, other professionals look to her as a pioneer in the field of hospice care for nonhuman animals. She believes Angel's Gate has received the support it has because she has stayed true to its mission: caring for "the misfits and the cast-offs of our society."

Marino is now a certified canine rehabilitator, a licensed veterinary technician, and a licensed wildlife rehabilitator. The hospice is home to 400 animals—dogs, cats, parrots, ponies, ducks, pigeons, geese and chickens. Many require physical therapy or nursing care, according to its official website. "They may have cancer, liver or kidney disease, paralysis, blindness, deafness, diabetes, neurological or seizure disorders, orthopedic or geriatric problems," the site states. Some are terminally ill.

Its newest arrival is a Korean dog named Jang Gun who was abandoned at a clinic after veterinarians tried unsuccessfully to reverse his paralysis.

The eight-year-old golden cocker spaniel couldn't get up one day and his family had waited a week to get medical attention for him. He was overweight and two protruding disks were pressing against his spinal cord, said Dr. Choi Jae Hyek, head vet at Dr. Pet Animal Medical Center in Seoul. Dr. Choi believes it's possible that Jang Gun would be able to walk if he'd had surgery right away.

Sarah Wolfgang, 16, describes Jang Gun as the sweetest, nicest dog she's ever met.

Wolfgang has been rescuing animals for about two years. She's saved about a dozen dogs from the local pound by guiding visitors to its out-of-the-way location two hours north of the city—the facility houses 300 to 500 animals at any given time and has a 60 percent kill rate. She's also fostered several dogs herself. Now she volunteers at Dr. Pet, where she works with the vets to place homeless animals in good homes. Wolfgang noticed that Jang Gun was there week after week, but thought he was a client's dog.

"At first I didn't think too much of him," she said. "But once I found out that he was paraplegic and homeless, it just kind of hit me."

Despite her building's strict no-pets policy, Wolfgang took Jang Gun home and gave him the nickname Wheels.

"The week I had him for we slept together all the time," Wolfgang said. "Sometimes I would just lay there and stare, stare at his face and wonder, who the hell would give you up?"

Wheels will never be able to use his back legs or control his bladder and bowels. The staff at Dr. Pet had already tried two wheelchairs, but he couldn't use them: Six months in a cage and constant contact with the metal had resulted in badly infected bedsores, and the poorly fitting wheelchairs irritated them further. He required frequent diaper changes and surgery to close the sores. He desperately needed a foster parent who could cope with his medical needs.

Annie Perrin offered to help. Perrin worked at the U.S. military base in Seoul as a physical therapist for children with special needs and had cared for many sick and injured animals. Her past foster animals included a paralyzed Yorkshire terrier and a sweet little mixed-breed dog recovering from an amputation.

"Wound care and rehab is my thing," Perrin said. "That is why I pick the dogs that have injuries."

Perrin changed Wheels' name back to Jang Gun because he knew and responded to it. Jang Gun loved attention and loved to be brushed, she said. When he lived with her, she changed his bandages at least twice a day and changed his diaper about six times a day. He always sat patiently when she changed his diaper and his bandages. Dr. Kwon Dae Hyun, who performed surgery to close the sores, praised her diligent follow-up care.

"Wherever you are, he is," Perrin said of Jang Gun. "If you sit on the floor, he climbs right up on your lap. If you are sitting on the couch, he paws at you to pick him up so he can sit beside you. He does not appear to know that he cannot walk."

But Perrin was scheduled to leave Korea at the beginning of February and Jang Gun had nowhere to go. It was Australian volunteer Tim Vasudeva who paid for Jang Gun's medical care and successfully arranged placement at Angel's Gate.

Jang Gun left Korea on a Saturday morning in early February and will live at Angel's Gate for the rest of his life.

"He is a very happy and playful dog and was in great spirits," Marino said the day after he landed. "Bedsores take a long time to heal. They will be tended to daily. When he arrived he was hungry—he was served a big bowl of food. We serve a raw food diet here at Angel's Gate and he seems to really like it. For his first night here he slept in a crib with a memory foam mattress. This morning he met his new family."

Jang Gun lives in Marino's home with about 80 other dogs. He was accepted right away and has the run of the house, she said. He can go outside through a doggy door whenever he wants.

"Jang Gun is a delightful dog and gets along with everyone," Marino said. "He behaved today like he had been here forever."

Some critics may question the use of funds to fly an animal overseas and ask whether the publicity paints a negative picture of local rescuers. Marino's answer is simple.

"Jang Gun had a need and we could provide for that need," she said. "Wheels came from a country that does not offer the services that Angel's Gate can offer. Many people in the U.S. who have cancer go to Europe to receive treatments that they could never get here in the U.S."

The day after he arrived, Jang Gun was measured for a custom wheelchair.

"He gets around just fine on his two legs in the house," said Marino, "but he will need the wheelchair to get around outside and the chair will also give his bedsores a chance to heal."

Marino understands that some people will disapprove of her choice to spend money on wheelchairs and surgeries and artificial limbs for animals. Some of these critics, she counters, spend money on fancy cars and alcohol and cigarettes. She's also been asked why, when she has the skills to care for human children, she would choose to care for animals. But there are many groups taking care of children and healthy animals, she explained.

"When I started Angel's Gate 18 years ago, it was to catch the animals that were falling through the cracks—the ones that no one wanted because they had physical disabilities."

She believes society has a long way to go in terms of attitudes toward animals with special needs, but said more people are choosing to care for their companions when they become sick or disabled.

"Angel's Gate offers guidance and inspiration to professionals and other organizations working in hospice care and with special-needs animals," Marino said.