To reach the HoPe Veterinary Center in West LA on Sunday, Mary Czerepuszko took a bus from Skid Row with her dog, Precious, whom she adopted a year and a half ago when the dog’s previous owners were arrested for drug dealing.

Gregory Gaston brought his dog Stitch from their camper in Santa Monica. Robe Allen and his dog Matanuska hitched a ride with a friend from Venice.

All came to the VCA West Los Angeles Animal Hospital’s Imaging Center, which once a month is transformed into HoPe Veterinary Center’s free clinic for homeless pets (HoPe).

HoPe has been offering the monthly clinics since July. On Sunday, about 45 animals were treated at the clinic, half of them for the first time. Many of the clients came from Venice and Santa Monica, where the center advertised its services.

The volunteer doctors diagnosed ailments, took blood tests, removed abscesses and performed 12 surgeries to spay and neuter the pets. The plaintive whines of dogs recovering from their surgeries could be heard throughout the office.

People also want their pets to get shots and be fixed so they could receive the necessary paperwork to register them with the City of Los Angeles.

Dr. Tina Owen founded the clinic specifically to give some relief to the local homeless population. She said for many homeless people, the emotional connection with their pets may be the only one they have.

Czerepuszko (pronounced “chair-poosh-ko”) said after the people in the tent next door were arrested for drug dealing, she saw their dog Precious sitting alone on a sidewalk. That’s when Czerepuszko took her in. “We’ve just kinda been each other’s companion,” she said.

Czerepuszko brought Precious to the clinic because she was shedding fur and scratching more than usual. It turned out the cocker spaniel-dachshund mix is extremely sensitive to flea bites; a HoPe doctor prescribed Precious flea medication and volunteers gave Czerepuszko a bag of dog goodies, including a toy, blanket, treats and dry food.

Robe Allen's dog is literally a life-saver. Matanuska, an English Staffordshire terrier-black lab mix, has been trained to sense when one of Allen’s periodic seizures is about to come on. When Matanuska senses one, about 10 to 15 minutes before it happens, he will first insistently bump his nose against Allen; next, he pulls at Allen’s clothes; finally, the usually quiet Matanuska begins barking.

Allen heeds Matanuska’s warnings by lying down. The dog then lies against his back, “to keep me from rolling back or asphyxiating on my tongue,” Allen said.

At Sunday’s clinic, Matanuska got his three-year shots. Allen said about 90 percent of the money he makes selling Catholic rosaries on the Venice boardwalk goes toward feeding Matauska.

“I try to keep him as healthy as possible. His health determines my health,” Allen said.

Gregory Gaston brought Stitch, a Rottweiler and red-nosed pit bull mix, to HoPe because she hit her head, resulting in a blister on her ear that kept filling with blood. As Dr. David Bruyette prepared to inject a steroid into her ear to keep the fluid from forming, Gaston held Stitch’s head tight to keep her still. “Make sure I got her teeth away from you,” he explained to Bruyette, who laughed and replied, “I appreciate it.”

Gaston lives in a 20-foot camper in Santa Monica with Stitch, another dog, two cats, and his girlfriend. He estimates the living space for them all is about 15 feet by 8 feet. “It’s pretty tight living quarters,” he said.

He has a temporary job as a telemarketer but is hopeful that talks to be a personal assistant to a film producer will bear fruit and that in another few months his brood could move to a bigger location.

One reason Gaston and his girlfriend haven’t sought an apartment is because many won’t allow pets, or animals of Stitch’s size. “I had this dog when I was homeless, so I have to give her up just to have an apartment? That doesn’t seem fair to her,” he said.

HoPe Veterinary Center wants to continue helping the pets of the homeless, but funding is a perpetual problem. While the organization is all-volunteer and gets in-kind donations such as VCA Animal Hospital lending its Animal Imaging Center, each monthly clinic still costs about $10,000 to pay for medicine and supplies.

Still, that isn’t even the most expensive part of running HoPe. The emergency operations and hospitalizations that happen in between the monthly clinics cost anywhere from $2,500 to $8,000 for each procedure, bringing HoPe’s total yearly cost to about $250,000.

“We’re not anywhere near that at this point,” said Susan Lawrence, one of HoPe’s board of directors. “Now we’re greatly in need of donations. We’re coming to end of the money that we do have.”

HoPe's next clinic will be Feb. 20 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. at 1827 Pontius Ave. in West Los Angeles.