It feels weird not to have a foster dog. That’s what this has come down to—my normal is extra temporary dogs running underfoot. Yes, Gala is still here, but as of today, she’s officially been here six months, so she’s less of a foster dog and more of a long-term boarder.
I’m torn about asking for a new foster dog. The only dogs I can take with Gala around are puppies, but I’m traveling a fair amount this month and asking my family to take care of Gracie, Gala, Frankie, and a few random puppies who poop, might be pushing it.
And yet….I really want to be doing something. Continue reading Dog-hearted People
Ninety-five dogs later…..I’ve finally found the one.
It’s not that I haven’t loved the ninety-four that came before him, but this guy seems to belong here. As my husband would say, “He ticks all the boxes.”
He’s a boy.
He’s got very short hair.
He’s a Catahoula (swoon).
He’s very mellow and unflappable.
He’s not gonna be huge.
He’s friendly, but not in-your-face.
He’s not a whiner. He’s happy for my attention, but doesn’t demand it.
He’s happy to play with siblings, but also happy to play with his toys.
Maybe it’s the fact that he’s grown up with five sisters, but this Continue reading Foster Fail
Yang is a solo puppy now, although she’s been trying out the role all week.
Last Friday, she discovered she could jump the puppy fence in the puppy room. Ever since the night we put them in there and she stood on her hind legs and peered over the top of the fence, everyone has wondered why she hasn’t jumped out. It wouldn’t be a great feat.
I suppose she had no motivation to jump because she didn’t know us or our scary house, she only knew her stubby sister who couldn’t jump the fence, so she was sticking with her.
After Yang jumped the fence and then celebrated by unloading as many shoes as possible from the shoe cubbies across the hall from the puppy room, I installed our tallest fence.
Five minutes later Continue reading Yang, the Clever One, Goes Solo
Gala has broken the record.
Longest foster dog we’ve ever had.
At nearly five months here, Gala easily surpassed Whoopi, Ginger, and Carla, our other longest fosters.
She’s also the dog with fewest applications. (Currently that would be zero applications.)
In the past five months, she’s only had four interested potential adopters. All changed their minds. None ever met her in person. Continue reading Record Breaking Dog
Now that Gala is back in working order, she’s making up for lost time.
Her jaw has recovered so fully, that she’s been able to destroy a dog toy we’ve had for over two years (a friend sent it to us after our very first foster chewed through our house), several beanie babies (how these missed the goodwill pile is beyond me – I’ll be vacuuming up those tiny beans for weeks), tennis balls, pencils, and anything that Gracie touches (she most especially wants Gracie’s stuffed fox and we’ve all had to rescue it from the clutches of Jaws several times now).
Despite the relentless heat, we’re back to running, walking fast, hiking in the woods, and visiting the fox holes in the field above our pasture. Thanks to the loan of an Easy Walk Harness, we’re even more under-control.
Unless the Blue Heron is in the creek and then nothing stops her. Gala is a serious bird dog. This is one of the reasons I think she might make a good frisbee dog – she’s always looking up. Sometimes we scare up a flock of finches that hang out at my neighbor’s barn and she will leap vertically in the air, certain she could catch one if I’d just let go of that pesky leash. Gala is great company. There is certainly never a dull moment.
Gala sits on the bed behind my desk as I work, always ready to distract:
Gala does eventually settle, but she finds reading on the couch just a bit too boring: Continue reading She’s BACK…..(+how YOU can rescue dogs with paintings and wine!)
First, the good news – Gala is muzzle and cone free!
Her jaw has ‘knit itself back together’ as the doctor put it. She’s cleared for all activities – running, playing, even eating regular dog food!
The transformation was instantaneous. On the drive down to see Dr. Walker, she stood nervously behind me in the back seat. The last time we took this trip, she had a crate to ride in, but my big crate didn’t fit in the only car available for me to use and she refused to stay in the ‘way back’ where she would have been more comfortable. She fretted and I worried she would hurt her jaw being jostled around back there, but eventually she fell asleep as close to me as allowed. (I promise I took this picture while stopped at a light and not driving!) Continue reading Starting Over (Again)
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