We’re headed to the beach THIS Saturday which is so totally awesome. An entire week with two of my favorite families and most, possibly all, of my kids. Yay. No stalls to muck or weeds to pull.
Here’s the problem: I still have two foster dogs.
Two foster dogs who are very dear to my heart. What to do. What to do. At first I panicked and considered having our house/horse sitter take care of them, but then I realized that was crazy and unrealistic because only a crazy person like me is happy to deal with a 75-pound bloodhound AND an over-the-top enthusiastic dog like Ginger AND a snarly, grumpy, poop-rolling personal dog AT THE SAME TIME. I couldn’t ask this of my very nice college-age house sitter who I’ve hired to care for the horses and water the plants.
So, I started begging and I managed to find two babysitters for Whoopi who will tag team the extended week, but Gingersnap is headed to boarding at this point. Which breaks my heart. But hopefully, not hers.
Many of my foster dogs have come and gone quickly. So quickly, that we barely got to scratch the surface of their personalities. This is not the case with my two current dogs whom I think may still be with us at Christmas.
Not because they are bad dogs – quite the contrary, but here’s the complications involved with either of them finding a forever family quickly….
First, take Whoopi.
Considering her kingdom
She’s a hit at events. Even a non-dog lover easily proclaims, “Look at the bloodhound!” They’ve all seen them on TV and in the movies, because what screams redneck, hillbilly, sidekick as loud as a bloodhound?
I took Whoopi to the Petapalooza on Sunday and she was wonderful.
Here she is posing with the Mary Kay lady in the next booth (“Mary Kay is so powerful it can even take on these kinds of wrinkles!”) Continue reading “Last Ones Picked…”→
Hound dogs drool, but you probably knew that. I did, too. But did you know that when the drool starts to reach the floor, that’s the cue to do the shake?
What’s the shake, you ask?
It’s when the hound dog flings her head back and forth, batting herself with her mile-long ears, her face literally smacking her face, and flinging dog drool over anyone in the vicinity.
To be fair, Whoopi really only seriously drools when she drinks water. So, we’ve taken to watering her on the porch. Better for all of us because who wants to step her bare foot in a slippery pile of dog drool? (trust me on this one)
Hound dogs also bay. Like seriously loud. Ian says that when Whoopi is really barking he can feel it in his chest.
Ian and Whoopi have been spending a lot of time together. This is because he is the only person in the house large enough and strong enough to walk Whoopi on our property without great personal risk. (Ian is only 13, but he is 6 foot, 180 pounds of shot-put tossing muscle.)
As I’ve explained before, we live on a hill. Six acres of lovely countryside, but not a level spot of ground anywhere. Walking up the hill with Whoopi is nice. She is a sturdy tow-rope and it’s fairly easy going. Walking back down is another story. Once she has momentum on her side, I’m a goner. I stumble/run/ski along behind her like some kind of looney-tunes character, yelling “whoa” and pulling with both arms.
Walking both ever-enthusiastic Ginger (who is still here!) and Whoopi together is a silly idea.
I know this and yet this morning in a momentary loss of sanity, I decided that I’d take them both for a three mile jaunt up the road and back. Continue reading “Hound Dog Workout for One”→
We had friends over for dinner and drinks on Saturday. Food was fabulous, wine was flowing, kids were enjoying themselves (always iffy when we’re talking about teenagers thrown together for the sake of their parents’ social life). Gingersnap greeted them in her you-are-the-most-exciting-guests-we’ve-ever-had way. She eventually settled down and observed us from her perch on my favorite lounge chair, but I let it slide because GS barely sheds (a VERY nice change after a run of hairy black labs at this house).
It was all going swimmingly until someone commented on the fact that GS was a pit bull. I don’t think it was meant as a slight, but I took it as one. I said, “She’s listed as lab mix” on the website.
“I’d bet that dog is 90% pit bull,” my guest replied.
I didn’t think too much of it, but then I did. So what if she’s a pit bull? Is that a really bad thing?
All the next day while I gardened, I thought about my own feelings about pit bulls. Not Gingersnap, but pit bulls. I don’t know anything about pit bulls. Not really. When I hear the term, I think ‘fighting dog’. I suppose my feelings about them are influenced by the bad associations. I know when we toured a few shelters before we decided to foster, I was astounded at the number of pit bulls. I didn’t want one, but it wasn’t because of some personal experience, it was simply their bad rap.
Gingersnap is the first pit bull I’ve come to know and love. And I mean love. She reminds me of my most beloved dog, Lucy, who was a foxhound and not the least bit pit. But she adored me as Ginger does. She was nothing but love, like Ginger is. And she always had a big smile for me, just like Ginger.
(This is where the picture of Ginger’s dog smile is supposed to be, but every time I try to capture it, it comes out blurry because she is in motion racing towards me. No Mona Lisa is this pup. The one below is the sort of forced smile that kids give just so they can get it over with – in this one, Ginger is much too preoccupied with a cat crossing the hillside.)
I really like the Facebook feature, Memories. If you aren’t familiar with it – Facebook randomly sends you private posts with pictures from posts you made on the same date in history.
Recently, this picture came up –
It’s from a year ago when we were still relatively new to fostering. Since our foster dog, Carla, had become part of the family, we’d agreed to babysit two other foster dogs for another OPH foster who was going away for the weekend. She could have put them in boarding but both dogs were sort of special needs. Hitch was incredibly shy and prone to running away (something we got to experience first-hand when one of our teens left a door open -twice! I got a lot exercise that weekend…) and Kylie who was…well Kylie was a little like our current foster Gingersnap – super sweet and VERY active, and maybe a wee-bit manic. It turned out to be a fun weekend and the first time we’d ever had four dogs in the house at once.
Now four doesn’t seem so crazy. In fact, as we watched our merry band of four last night, I said, “I like our little herd,” and Nick said, “Me, too.”
This week was supposed to be our dog-free week, but you know me. What’s the point of a week without a dog?
All nine puppies are safely set in their forever homes where reports abound that they are LOVED and ADORED and also that they are very SMART puppies a few of which are susceptible to car sickness (just like their mom).
Schuyler is having her spay operation today and then on Thursday she will go home with her forever family.
[And right here, I must do a SHOUT OUT to CAPE HORN VET in Red Lion for the excellent care and discounted rates they offer OPH for our foster dogs’ necessary medical treatments. Schuyler is my third dog I’ve taken for her spay surgery and I’m always impressed at the professional care and the friendly people. They definitely don’t treat us like discount clients.]
After Schuyler goes home, we were supposed to have four days with no dogs (except Gracie, who does count, we’ve been over that….).
No dogs would be a good thing because this weekend Nick and I are joining my brother and his wife for the annual event – Carapalooza! And before you think that there is a festival all about me – let me explain. Each May we travel to our beloved Shenandoah Valley and attend a fabulous Wine and Craft festival in Front Royal, VA. Sometimes other couples join us, sometimes it’s just us. My little brother named it Carapalooza because it almost always falls on my birthday weekend. My sister-in-law even had a sign made – I know it’s a bit over the top. (But it does make a girl feel special)
Anyway – this weekend is Carapalooza, so no dogs would be a good thing. Except I can’t say no to some dogs. Especially foster dogs who have had three foster homes in 10 weeks and no adopters because they simply have too much happy to be contained. This is Gingersnap: Continue reading “What’s a Week without a Dog?”→
I’m wrung out. Physically, emotionally, mentally…. just done. The last week was a whirlwind of activity and stress in my life – both good and bad.
My second novel released; my daughter competed in the County Distinguished Young Women program; my oldest returned from his first year in college; my youngest sustained a concussion in a soccer game; I received some tough news; Mother’s Day happened; five puppies were adopted; the dog warden was rumored to be stopping by for an inspection; and, perhaps the hardest part of the week – it was gray, rainy, and cold EVERY DAY. Gray days get to me. They make it very hard to slap on a smile and put up with the daily messes and stresses.
But, I’m grateful for the sunshine on Sunday and grateful that I still have four puppies to snuggle. In fact, despite their messes, having the puppies around during this stressful week made all the difference. They got me through. Schuyler helped some days, but she was definitely picking up on my stress level and her chewing went in to overtime – she destroyed my sandals, assorted plastic containers (left on the counter), and Ian’s football.
Still, this week has underlined what I already know – the presence of animals is critical for my survival. How about you?
Maybe you’ve thought about fostering but aren’t sure you’re ready. Let me tell you something – you’re never ready. None of us are.
Luckily, the dogs are pretty understanding and more than patient with us. We offer them stability, food, safe shelter, medical treatment, and most of all – love. That’s five things they may have never experienced in their lives.
And here’s what they offer in return –
Unconditional and many times overly enthusiastic love. And this can’t be overstated. Time and again, I’ve been overwhelmed by the affection and devotion my foster dogs shower on me often within hours of their arrival. It does seem they are grateful even if the experts might dispute that dogs understand the concept of gratitude.
Ian being ‘loved on’ in the puppy pen
A chance to make a difference not only in a dog’s life, but in the lives of its adopters. Helping people is healing. I’ve discovered that when I am most down, the quickest way to get happy is to focus on others. Fostering dogs offers plenty of opportunity to touch the lives of others – both canine and human.
Exercise! There have been more than a few mornings, this winter in particular, when I didn’t want to go for a walk or run, but many of those days I had a foster dog in residence who needed a walk or run. Fostering could very well be an excellent fitness plan for anyone.
Entertainment! Welcoming new dogs into your home on a regular basis means you’ll have a steady stream of entertainment. The antics, quirks, silliness, and fun vary with every dog. It’s also been one of the few things our family can do together. While some members are more enthusiastic than others, I’m pretty sure they’re all glad we do it – even my daughter who doesn’t always appreciate their messy affections.
A whole new network of friends who quickly become like family. Other OPHers who also foster or volunteer are quick to reach out with help and support whether it’s showing up to help you give your first vaccine, drop off additional supplies, offer suggestions for how to handle housetraining issues, or simply cheer you on. Being welcomed into the OPH family is a huge benefit I never considered when I was making my decision to foster, but it’s probably one of the reasons I can’t ever imagine quitting.
I can hear you now, coming up with all your excuses, so let me address a few of the most common-
1)I don’t know what I’m doing. True, you don’t. But you’ll learn soon enough. I was pretty nervous about giving vaccines to my first puppies. And I wondered, how can this organization simply tell me to watch a youtube video, hand me the syringe and expect me to stick it into a squirming puppy? To be fair, I’m sure if I’d said, “Hey, needles make me squeamish- I can’t do this,” someone would have shown up on my doorstep and done it for me. But I was the one who chose to do puppies. I could have stuck with dogs and avoided the needles all together.
Watching the video and then putting on my big-girl panties and actually giving the vaccines turned out to be no big deal. I COULD do it. This past weekend, I gave ten shots (all the puppies plus Schuyler), ten bordatella intranasal vaccines, and ten heartworm pills. My husband helped hold the puppies and we did all of that in about 15 minutes. No biggie, piggie (as my dear friend Lisa says).
OPH has more resources – both on paper, online, and in person, plus conference calls and near-constant online support – than anyone could possibly need. No, you may not know what you’re doing, but OPH does and you will too, soon enough.
2)What if I get a difficult dog? OPH does a pretty good job of screening dogs and doesn’t knowingly bring in aggressive dogs. That said, if you foster enough dogs you’re going to run into an issue eventually. We’ve fostered 43 dogs (holy moly and that’s in barely 15 months!), and with no exceptions I could have easily kept every one of them.
The toughest to deal with was Hadley because she was the most traumatized and Foo Foo, who about drove me crazy with her inability to understand the concept of peeing outside.
Carla couldn’t stay off the beds and John Coffey escaped a time or two. But other than the damage to the living room carpet before we installed a baby gate to keep new fosters in the kitchen until they’ve earned their house privileges, our home is more or less unscathed. I can’t say the same for too many pairs of shoes and personal items that were not put away where they belong and there is not a stuffed animal left stuffed anywhere in the house.
I know that more challenging dogs are on our horizon, but I also know that this organization will not abandon me or any dog, so I am ready.
3)I might get stuck with a dog long term. We’ve been more than amazed that all of our dogs have been adopted pretty quickly. Carla stayed the longest (4 months), but she was a tough placement since she was a five-year-old, 75-pound coonhound with a quirky personality. (We all still miss Carla.) Our shortest foster was Tweety, who stayed with us just barely 24 hours. I picked her up from boarding one day and she was gone the next.
So, no, you won’t get stuck with a dog unless you choose to foster-fail and that will all be on you. I’ve learned it’s a very common thing amongst OPH fosters. So far, we are resisting, but it is a conscious decision every single time. We came oh-so-close to keeping Frank, but in the end he got a great forever family and I get regular updates of his happiness.
4)It will cost money. I will tell you that it won’t, but then it might. We’ve spent plenty of our own money, but we’ve done so willingly. Nearly everything we need is supplied through OPH and donations, but sometimes it’s just easier to go grab a few items ourselves. Mostly I remember to save receipts for the tax write-off, but in the end, sure, we spend some money. But who doesn’t spend money on something they love?
5)I work full-time and the dog will be alone all day. I’m lucky because I work from home and many of my fosters can hang out with me as I work. Their company is welcome. But I know plenty of people who foster through OPH and crate their foster dog during the hours they are away.
At first I thought – poor dogs, but then it was pointed out to me that dogs sleep 20 hours or more a day. (This must be where the term ‘lucky dog’ comes from!) My personal dog chooses to spend a good portion of time every day in her crate.
We never close her in unless someone is visiting (she is still learning how to NOT jump on the people she likes and NOT bite the people she’s afraid of), and still she chooses to sleep in her open crate probably pretty close to 20 hours a day. So, no, working full-time out of the house doesn’t mean you can’t foster dogs.
Ready to get involved? Fostering is a great gig. It’s such a privilege to be part of the journey of these amazing dogs. There are quite literally hundreds of dogs headed our way this summer. Consider opening your home and your heart to a foster dog. It’s awesome, messy, fun, and occasionally stressful, but the bottom line is you will get so much more than you will ever give.
Click here to get more information or apply to foster.
Every day reveals another layer of Schuyler. She’s no longer Mama dog – as we’d taken to calling her when she arrived with her brood of nine pups. Now she’s Schuyler or Sky. Her mothering duties are over and she’s even beginning to regain her girlish figure.
She’s ready to be a dog instead of a mama. This means she tearing up toys/stuffed animals/pens/pencils/egg cartons (plus the eggs inside them – who left that on that counter???). She is not just a chewer; she is a destroyer. So far, the saving grace has been KONG toys – she can’t make a dent in them and is happy to gnaw away for hours in her efforts.
When we are asked her breed, I always say “dog” because other than her kind-of-lab-like appearance there hasn’t been anything to suggest a particular breed. Lab mix is the default breed for rescue dogs with short, dark hair and a medium-large size. We’ve had lots of ‘lab mixes’ and they’ve covered a range of personalities and sizes. I’m not suggesting she isn’t lab, but I could easily agree she’s nearly any breed you want to suggest. She’s a classic mutt. I happen to love mutts, so I see that as just one more of her many attributes.
All of that said, I’m beginning to think there could be some kind of border collie/shepherd in her, short hair and all. I have two pieces of evidence to suggest this.
First, she is devoted. I’ve read/heard that working dogs tend to fixate on one person and give their complete attention/devotion/affection to that person.
Schuyler loves me. Nevermind that Nick spends more time with her than any of the other dogs we’ve fostered, and suggests almost daily that we should keep her (we won’t). Schuyler likes him very much, even giving off a little squeal when she sees him pull in the driveway. She likes Ian, too, greeting him with happy wags when he appears. She even likes Addie, who takes loud offense at Schuyler’s friendly, snuffly nose.
But she has chosen me.
When I work in the kitchen, I can feel her eyes following my every move. When I go outside, I have to lock the door because she quickly figured out how to work the lever handle door so she could let herself out to follow me. While I do barn work or garden work, she waits at the kitchen door, watching, vigilant. If she catches sight of me, her excitement spills over. Here’s a video of Schuyler reacting to spotting me moving around outside: Continue reading “Introducing….Schuyler!”→
Puppies aren’t a tough crowd. Kind of like toddlers. In fact, many days I feel the same way I did when I had toddlers and preschoolers underfoot and needed to keep them out of trouble. Other than your constant love and attention, they really just need an empty box or something messy like play-doh (or the stuffing from that animal they just ripped apart). Here’s ten ideas I’ve gleaned from my repertoire of puppy entertaining:
Novelty is good. The pups love new things. That said, I have to qualify the definition of new things as “something they haven’t seen for a few days.” Novelty is relative with this crew. And new things can also be items like an empty paper towel roll (see video), the tag on a towel, the spray bottle I set down for a minute, or the stink bug who happened into the wrong puppy pen.
The box is always better.I remember plenty of Christmases when we thought we’d found the perfect Santa gift, only to have the recipient tear the gift from its box and then have more fun with the empty box. The puppies are big fans of cardboard and happily crush boxes for me in preparation for the recycling bin. Their favorite plaything BY FAR is an under-the-bed-box. Whenever I place it in the pen, they react as if it’s Christmas morning – big eyes, yips, major excitement. It’s still their favorite play toy and they can spend entire mornings shoving each other in and out of it. Eliza and Angelica seem to win the space most often, but as soon as it’s deserted Peggy and Alexander will claim it for nap time.
Mess is inevitable with every good time. When the pups start tearing around their pen in one of their wild games of race-around-and-body-slam-each-other, I know I better be ready for the clean up. I know that in the course of this craziness, someone will poop and then EVERYONE will run through it. And all that physical effort means many of them will also pee and then during the next tussle, most of them will roll right through the waters. Unlike my teenagers, puppies have no qualms about puppy poo/pee.
Change in scenery works wonders. I broke down and purchased another puppy pen so that we could set up a semi-permanent playyard outside for the crew. It’s a bit of a process carting all nine of them outside and up the hill to a relatively level spot in the grass, but once they’re all out there it’s party time. And the best part – no clean up!
This week my pups went from “on hold” to “available for adoption.” Of course, they can’t go home for 2 more weeks, but this is the beginning of the end for me.
The hardest part was writing up a little “blurb” on each for the website. They are all cute. They are all wonderful. They are all the best one. I would keep every single one of them. Truly. But we aren’t running a dog farm, here, despite what the cats tell the neighbors.
How do I write nine different descriptions of these little butterballs I’ve come to love, despite the enormous amounts of poop produced hourly?
Not easy. Because, take Peggy. Is she shy? That makes her sound less attractive. She’s careful, is what I wrote. When the other pups rush me each time I enter their pen, she hangs back. Is she scared, or is she just smart? She knows I will get to her. She knows that after I have greeted all the others who simply can’t wait as she can, I’ll reach for her. And I’ll pick her up and snuggle her under my chin, away from the flailing mob beneath.
What kind of dogs these pups become, will mostly be determined by their adopters. They need love, that’s the easy part, because who doesn’t love a puppy? But they also need careful, consistent training. And boundaries. And good food fed regularly. And plenty of exercise, socialization, snuggles.
Every one of them could be the best dog ever. All it takes is lots and lots and lots of time and intentional training.
Nick petitioned to keep Lafayette – tossing out names like Target, Targette (French pronunciation), Spot, Spanky, the list goes on. He is a great pup. He has a wonderful sense of humor and could easily be voted most popular in the puppy yearbook. I entertained the idea through one bottle of wine on a gorgeous evening, but later decided, that, no, I don’t have time for a puppy. And if I’ve learned anything from my sweet dog, Gracie, it’s that I am not a good puppy trainer. No puppies in my near future. Maybe once the kids are launched (and don’t come back).
and 
and 
But other than the damage to the living room carpet before we installed a baby gate to keep new fosters in the kitchen until they’ve earned their house privileges, our home is more or less unscathed. I can’t say the same for too many pairs of shoes and personal items that were not put away where they belong and there is not a stuffed animal left stuffed anywhere in the house.
Every day reveals another layer of Schuyler. She’s no longer Mama dog – as we’d taken to calling her when she arrived with her brood of nine pups. Now she’s Schuyler or Sky. Her mothering duties are over and she’s even beginning to regain her girlish figure.
Another Good Dog™ 