I’ve realized that there is a correlation between how many dogs are in our house and the amount of stress in my life.
I’m pretty sure the stress brings the dogs, not the other way around. I tend to pile on the animals when I’m feeling stressed or uncertain. Their needs, their affection, the immediacy of their presence is calming for me.
Yes, the world feels upside down right now, but Continue reading Combatting Quarantine Stress with Foster Dogs
This is a long-overdue post to catch you up on Daisy’s Diary of a Rescue.
Truly, I did not imagine I would still be writing this Diary almost six months later. But maybe that’s the piece of rescue that is hardest – they are all good dogs, but some require a little more of us than others.
Sometimes you rescue a dog from a shelter, imagining it’s shiny new future now that it is ‘out’, but Continue reading Diary of a Rescue: Month Six
We have a very special guest with us this week. (As if four dogs wasn’t enough!)
Oreo and I go way back to the day I met him in a shelter in North Carolina, where he’d been living on and off for over a year. He’d been adopted out twice, but neither adopter chose to neuter him or bring him inside, so he ran off (as unneutered male dogs are want to do) and Animal Control returned him to the shelter each time.
There was something special about Oreo—the way he looked at us, the way he leaned into his kennel fence desperate for your touch, and how he’d hold your hand through the fence.
It was a long and winding road from that day Continue reading Our Special Visitor
One week later and Bugs is a part of the family.
Watching me work
Taking up a lot of room in the kitchen
Playing in Deer Creek
watching AKC Agility finals with Frankie
Ian calls him Continue reading A Week in the Life of this Foster Mom
Without Oreo the house feels empty.
In fact, after he left on Saturday with his new family, Frankie spent the rest of the morning looking for his pal. He ran up and down the stairs and wanted to go out in the playyard to look and then back in the house to make the rounds again. It was a good thing we had Sip for a Cause on our calendar that night to distract all of us.
Some dogs are just special. Not that I haven’t loved every dog I’ve fostered, but some of them burrow a little deeper into your heart.
I saw something on Facebook about the pain you endure as a foster mom yesterday. It said – Continue reading The Tears Are More Than Worth It
Frankie has another new puppy – only this puppy is ten pounds bigger and at least ten times more trouble than little Zander.
Hops is a gangly, sweet, goofy boy who somehow already seems bigger than when he got here on Saturday. He’s forty pounds, but his feet are so big he looks like he’s wearing galoshes, so I’d say that even though he’s six months old, he’s far from finished growing.
He routinely runs into things and can’t get his long legs out of his own way. He’s labeled a lab mix, but looks like he was put together with spare parts from a handful of breeds possibly including shepherd.
He’s in that awkward adolescence phase, tripping over himself, with a loose discombobulated swagger that makes me smile and think of teenagers trying (and failing) to look cool.
Nothing on the counters is safe. Yesterday he polished off the cream cheese, sampled the newspaper, and [insert frustrated shriek and several curse words] broke Continue reading The Difference Ten Pounds (and Two Months) Make
Our house is very quiet sans Gala.
Not that she was necessarily a noisy dog. Without her, though, the energy level has dropped.
Or maybe it’s the unrelenting gray, rainy weather.
Or maybe it’s because Frankie is out of sorts ever since his neuter and dew claw removal on Tuesday.
Or maybe it’s just me, missing Gala.
There is no need to Continue reading A New Normal in this Foster Home
Hi blog readers!
I’m traveling in England and Cyprus this week, but I thought I’d share a few of the best moments of the blog this year.
Of course Fruitcake takes the cake (so to speak).
Here’s a post explaining his Swimmer Puppy Syndrome.
And here are a few pictures of Fruitcake (now Brodie) from his adopter, showing a very different dog nearly a year later. Continue reading Best of the Blog
Traveling with two puppies took me back to the days of traveling with my toddlers. We had to pack their beds, playpen, toys, food, snacks, extra jackets (it was gonna be cold), stuff to entertain them in the car, and plenty of supplies for cleaning up after them. Once the car was loaded, we buckled Buford and Frankie into the backseat and set off for Virginia to celebrate our anniversary hiking, wine-tasting, and relaxing.
The boys traveled well for the two-hour trip, cuddled together and mostly sleeping. Every time I turned around to check on them, they’d morphed into a new formation. Continue reading Travel Adventures
Gala has lost all hope.
I know that sounds horrible, but that’s the only way I can describe it. Up until now, she’s done really well with her forced confinement. (To catch anyone up on why she is in a crate 24/7 except for short potty walks – Gala has multiple fractures in her jaw after being kicked by a horse. You can read the awful story here.)
Personally, if I was forced to be still and quiet for a month and everyone was taking care of all my needs, giving me a comfy bed on which to rest, and stopping by frequently for visits, I think I just might enjoy it (except the endless streaming of Parks & Rec, that might make me feel as Gala does). All that lounging and catching up on my reading and eating fancy food someone else prepared and cleaned up – what’s not to like?
I didn’t think for one minute think Gala would enjoy or even be able to endure this, but for the first two weeks she surprised me.
She was sad, but resigned. She was happy when any of us crawled in her crate with her (it’s big enough for all of us).
When we took her out for walks, she was happy to get out, and slammed her cone into everyone looking for attention. She went back into her crate reluctantly and waited for her next walk or visit. She slurped up her gruel and watched what was happening around her intently. She seemed to sense this was ‘only for now’ and soon enough she would be back living amongst us.
But now after three weeks, she has changed. It is as if she’s given up. Continue reading Forced Stillness Takes a Toll on the Soul