My heart is so broken.
Shattered. In pieces.
I don’t remember a hurt like this—it’s everywhere, in every thought, every breath. My eyes are slits and my nose is raw and sore and the tears just keep coming and coming til it doesn’t seem possible I have more, and then I do.
I’m making myself move—fold the laundry, clean the counter, weigh the puppies and worm them, walk Thelma, pull a few weeds, put shoes in their cubbies, anything so that I don’t just sit and sob, which is all I’ve been doing for days. I can’t eat and I’ve had so much tea, I have the shakes. I can’t talk because it comes out a squeak and if anyone says anything nice to me I fall apart. If you’ve called or messaged me and I haven’t answered, I apologize.
I’ve canceled every puppy visit, moved the party we were supposed to host. I am hunkered down, doing only the things I can, which is nothing that requires my heart or my brain because my heart is in a million pieces and my brain is doing all it can to keep me upright.
I have had to make the most impossible decision. Maybe the most painful of my life. And, while some of you will argue with me, there truly wasn’t a choice.
On Thursday, Frankie attacked my daughter. Continue reading The Most Impossible Decision
Maybe you’ve had too many puppies funnel through your home when you have to schedule ‘puppy socialization’ into your day and beg your kid to play with them. My two older kids were home briefly before taking off for more exciting destinations and neither of them even went in the puppy pen while they were here.
Ian’s a great photographer, so I keep bugging him to take their picture, anything to give them a little attention. (If you want to follow his 365 project on Instagram, look him up at iachterberg_photo – he posted the BEST picture of Gracie yesterday and sooner or later the puppies will turn up I’m sure.)
Having failed at getting Ian to take the puppies’ photos and running up against the deadline for them to go out to the Puppy Waiting List (the people who are approved and get first dibs), I decided to Continue reading You Know You’ve Fostered Too Many Puppies When…
I’m big on food. I love to eat and spend a lot of time thinking about, growing, planning, and preparing food.
This time of year, the asparagus is coming in by the hour and we eat it at nearly every meal. The rhubarb is up, so there’s pressure to do something with it besides the same old thing (strawberry-rhubarb pie). This year I discovered a recipe for lemon-rhubarb scones that is delicious (but if you know a good rhubarb recipe, I’m all ears). The baby lettuce is filling up the garden and always in danger of being trampled by Frankie and Flannery as they wrestle and chase. Up next are strawberries, snap peas, kale, and a plethora of herbs.
I also spend a lot of time thinking about, planning, and feeding dogs. It is Continue reading Feeding Lots of Dogs at Once
It would be very easy to keep Flannery. I’d love to foster fail and make her a permanent part of our pack.
Undoubtably, she fits in here just fine. Continue reading Flannery, Flannery, Flannery—what will we do with Flannery?
When I started this diary, I thought it would go for about ten, maybe twelve weeks. I figured eight or ten weeks until the puppies went home and then another week or two after that for the adorable mama I saw in the photos to be adopted. As you all know, nothing went according to plan. And now, here we are at just over twelve weeks and Continue reading Diary of a Rescue Weeks Eleven and Twelve: This has gone on Long Enough
Sitting down to write this morning, I’m debating with myself how much I should tell you. There are times during this fostering experience when the difficulties stretch my commitment thin as tinsel and I am certain it will snap.
I don’t blame the dogs or OPH or even the wrongness of the necessity of the work we do. I occasionally blame my husband, because Continue reading Foster Dog Overwhelm: Saving Dogs Even When Your House (and heart) are Full
The natural instincts of animals are remarkable. Spending so many of my hours with animals in the course of a lifetime, I’ve come to respect this, but I’ve also come to wonder at length about human instinct and whether we are compelled to follow it the way animals do, but that is decidedly a topic for another post.
A week ago today, I had just finished a post about Thelma’s arrival and the happenings in this foster house, when Continue reading A Mama’s Instinct