I’m pretty sure my neighbors know what kind of dogs we have squirreled away in our foster cottage.
Rufus and Bug sing lovely songs periodically that make me smile. I’m not even sure what gets them started or what they are singing about. The serenades rarely last long and sometimes happen shortly after I’ve left them, but sometimes two hours later.
I know that first hand, as does anyone in the rescue world. It’s part and parcel to the whole rescue mentality – you want to help and you can easily over-extend. You can’t bear for animals to suffer.
And sadly, lately, that proclivity to take on more and more has led to rescues turning into hoarding cases.
Two different situations came through my world this weekend that I could do nothing about, but a local wannabe rescuer’s overwhelm did spill into my world, or to be exact, my not-quite-finished foster cottage.
I’ve put off this post, not because I didn’t think it was going to work, but because I didn’t want to put undue pressure on anyone. This one really felt meant to be, but until I got first reports, I thought it best to stay mum.
Moose was adopted! I’m super excited that this special boy is going to get the life he deserves.
Our latest foster, Moose, is on a diet. I can’t remember ever having a foster dog who seriously needed to lose weight. Moose needs to lose about 20% of his weight. He arrived weighing close to 95 pounds and really should be closer to 75.
No problem, right? Since we control what he eats and how much he exercises. (I’ve always thought I’d love to go to a diet camp where someone controlled all that for me.)
And we are controlling how much he eats – measuring his food (only a high quality, grain-free dry food) and serving it with a vitamin and probiotics.
After three weeks with Moose, I’ve learned a few things about our big boy (who lost five pounds and is now only 87 pounds!).
Moose has no idea that he is enormous. He never uses his muscle or size to break in or out of places. Initially, we put him in our ‘tiger crate’, the giant steel dog crate we purchased after a previous foster broke out of (and in the processed destroyed) two large wire crates.
Moose wasn’t crate-trained when he arrived, so it seemed like the safest place to put him, knowing that at 92 pounds, he could easily force the wire crate open if he wanted to. This week I transitioned him into a regular crate and he’s never challenged it, even when left alone overnight.
She’s no longer living on a chain (yay), but she is confined to one room much of her day. She can see the other dogs, hang out with our foster cat, and watch the activity out her window, but she’d much prefer to be with a person.
Abby is a people-dog. She loves people – all kinds, all sizes, all attitudes. She isn’t discouraged by her predicament, but I am.