My next foster dog arrives tonight, a pregnant shepherd mix from South Carolina named Daisy.
I plan to chronicle her journey in realtime on my Facebook writer page. If you’re not on Facebook, I will collect those entries and publish them weekly on this blog.
Word of warning: there are no guarantees here. This is a shelter dog with no history, so while I hope there’s a happy ending coming, that may not be the case. Mama dogs who land in shelters have often not had any kind of prenatal care, may be undernourished, riddled with worms, and definitely not talking about who the baby daddy is. My most recent mama dog had a near textbook delivery, while the one before that was tragic. I want to be honest about this business of rescuing dogs and will share with you the story, no matter the outcome.
I find myself yelling these words again and again these days. Hula Hoop is no longer the quiet, calm, exhausted, worm-addled, nursing mama dog. Now, she is full-on puppy.
In the past week, she’s eaten my running gloves (luckily they went right through – eww, definitely shopping for a new pair), devoured the faux-fur edge of one of my slippers, continued the assault on my dog-walking shoes begun by John Jacob (see picture), and Continue reading Hey, That’s Enough, Settle Down!
Just about the time I get tired of so much poop so many kisses, the puppies take off for their forever homes. All eight have forever families waiting to adopt them this weekend. If all goes as planned, I’ll be scrubbing out an empty puppy pen by Sunday afternoon.
The puppies had quite a few final adventures this week. They were visited and loved upon by a group of girl scouts on Sunday afternoon. It was a win-win. The pups were helping the girls fulfill some badge requirements, and the girls were helping to wear out the pups in preparation for their microchipping.
For some reason, this current litter is not flying off the shelves like litters past.
It could be the time of year or the fact that OPH has a slew of cute adoptable puppies on the site right now, but I’m thinking it might be their label.
SIDEBAR: I hate labels. They are restrictive and offensive and many, many times plain wrong. They conjure up assumptions which inevitably lead to judgment and disappointment. I am not just talking about dogs here.
The fabulous adoption coordinator for this litter, Kassie, messaged me after several interviews to tell me that “People want them to be bigger than they are.”
ANOTHER SIDEBAR: Adoption Coordinators (ACs) are the fabulous volunteers who do final interviews and match adopters up with dogs. They are critical to OPH’s ability to save dogs. Without them we would not be able to save nearly as many or process adoptions nearly as fast. AND we need more AC’s. So, if you’ve ever wondered how you can help save dogs from the comfort of your home (and computer and phone), HERE IT IS! Find out more here.
So, I’ve made a decision. And the puppies have been very helpful in my decision-making process.
All kinds of people have been visiting, trooping into our house, sitting on a couch or floor with a puppy in their lap. For me, a solitary writer, this is a welcome break. The puppies also love it and need the socialization.
But the dogs in this house find visitors stressful. I had hoped that Oreo’s calm happy state would rub off on Frankie and Gracie, but it seems to be the reverse. As more people come to visit, Oreo is more stressed. He’s been a perfect gentleman, but it’s clear he would prefer a quieter home.
I think if the other two didn’t react to a new car in the driveway as a potential terrorist attack, he wouldn’t raise an eyebrow. Unlike my other two, I’m pretty sure Oreo would adjust to this if I asked him too, but I don’t want to ask him to.
Over the weekend, Nick posted a Beware of Dog sign on our driveway.
He did it in response to the fact that two of our neighbors were burglarized, but he also did it because legally it’s a good idea. You should be aware of my dogs.
It’s a sign we should have posted long ago since Lucy bit the UPS guy and Gracie tried to bite the Fed Ex man (and bit me instead when I stepped between them). And now Frankie Continue reading Beware of Dog/s?