Tag: dog rescue

Bambi, dog rescue, foster dogs, fostering, Gingersnap, Lucy, oph

Our Present Pack of Pups

Cara Achterberg

My trusty co-pilot and helper (read: the only kid without a driver’s license or a job this summer) and I met the Lucy train in Hagerstown last Wednesday and picked up our latest charge. She’d been riding shot-gun for the last leg with a very nice person named Terri. When I opened the hatch of my SUV, she hopped right in, settled in the crate we’d brought and went to sleep. Obviously, she wouldn’t be a high-maintenance guest.

This poor pup has been through it—I can’t say exactly what, but she is riddled with scars, the worst one being a permanent necklace from where a collar was embedded and/or she was left chained up for a long period. Despite all that, she is a happy, friendly, easy-going girl. The resilience of dogs is something to behold.

Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to be pregnant. As exciting as that would have been, the last thing this sweet girl needs is puppies. Her skin is inflamed and hot and covered in some form of eczema that requires us to keep a cone on her 24/7 so she won’t chew herself bloody. It’s a testimony to her good nature that she handles her misery so well. She scratches at the cone trying to get to her neck and chest, where the rash is worst. She chews at her side, biting the plastic cone that prevents her from a reaching her itchy skin. It may not help, but maybe the effort brings a mental relief. I remember scratching at my riding helmet covering my itchy head when I was in the middle of a competition or lesson. It’s psychological; you feel like you’re doing something. I would shake my head, too, which I’ve seen Lucy doing.

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If you’ve ever had poison ivy or hives covering your entire body, you might have some sense of what this pup is going through. The urge to itch is all-consuming and yet—she can’t reach it. She’s headed to the vet on Wednesday to confirm that she isn’t pregnant and hopefully get a prescription for some serious drugs to help her out. The vets that examined her before she came north diagnosed a flea allergy. While there are no fleas on this girl now (I’ve given her enough oatmeal baths to verify that), I would assume at some point she was infested with them. Continue reading “Our Present Pack of Pups” →

Chuggy Alabaster, fosterdogs, oph, Pigweed

Meet the Real Chuggy Alabaster

Cara Achterberg

DSC_2160Fiona, the puppy formerly known as Pigweed, took off for her forever home. Chuggy (and the rest of us) are missing her. Minutes before her adopters arrived, she and Chuggy had one last King/Queen of the Frank Bed battle and I captured it for posterity. My phone is clogged with these videos because every time I witnessed them I wanted to share them with the world, but despite my best intentions and most likely, because of my limited technical abilities, they remain trapped on my phone. You’ll have to stop by if you want to watch any others.

Life got much easier this morning. As cute as they are, Pigweed and the rest of the puppies were a LOT of work. Chuggy is not. He is a delightful and gracious house guest. I’m afraid the puppies have been upstaging him during his time here, so let me properly introduce him.

First off, Chuggy Alabaster has more expressions than your average dog. Sometimes he can look at you like he knows exactly what you’re thinking, and once more, he agrees with you. Continue reading “Meet the Real Chuggy Alabaster” →

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Can I Have Just a Word with Adopters?

Cara Achterberg

When I get an email from the adopters of one of my dogs it always makes my day. I don’t know if after I’ve fostered hundreds, I’ll still feel the same way. So far we’ve fostered fourteen dogs & puppies. I still wonder and worry about all of them. And hearing they are doing well and are loved never ceases to plant a smile on my face that lasts for hours. I share the news with my husband and children and patient friends who indulge me as I regale the latest tale of my foster furbaby.

DSC_7920Galina was our first and will always hold a special place in my heart. I can still picture her sweet little self snoring on the futon beside my desk. She had such energy and taught us quickly how destructive a foster dog can be – especially a beagle!

DSC_8233And adorable Wheat Penny, how could we not love that sweet face. She was our first taste of puppy and what a treat she was. And then came Stich (Symphony) who was easy and fun and adorable. I remember thinking, “How could anyone not want this dog?” Her big smile and her pile of hoarded stash in her crate were a constant source of amusement.11053290_935900013116211_8762747800097371945_o Continue reading “Can I Have Just a Word with Adopters?” →

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They’re Really Lovers, Not Fighters, Honest!

Cara Achterberg

DSC_9994I need to find a way to harness all this dog energy to power my house. Two border collies, the Amazing Frank, and my own over-anxious, awkward personal dog, Gracie, have turned our home into something of a three-ring circus.

Lucky for us the boys are all super good at coming when they are called, so they can have regular romps outside. This is a video of the craziness…

It’s so entertaining that one of my new favorite activities is to retire to the top of our hillside in the evening with a glass of wine and watch the shenanigans. The only problem is, just like boy children, boy dog play can sometimes graduate to boy dog fights.

Usually this happens when somebody (the “senior” member of these musketeers) gets tired and has had enough. Texas, who has endless energy and can outrun all the others, just never quits, but since he is too speedy for Frank to grab him, Tennessee usually ends up on the bottom of the pile. Unlike Texas and Gracie who will both take their licks and slink away, Tenn hangs in there for a moment too long probably protesting with growls that say, “Hey! That wasn’t me! It was him! He did it! He’s the one you want!” but either Frank is color blind and simply sees an annoying black dog or he enjoys kicking a little Tennessee butt on occasion.DSC_0059

There’s only been one serious incident which resulted in a small cut on Tennessee’s face. It’s one more nick on his sweet face that was already covered with tiny tooth sized injuries when he arrived at our house, so I’m guessing he isn’t a stranger to these scuffles. I tended his wound and chastised Frank and kept them apart for a few days, but finally relented. They really, really, really wanted to play. And up until that point, they’d done well together, wrestling for hours without it breaking into bloody battles. Besides, Texas needed some relief as he was limping from one too many top-speed full-body slams with Frank. Continue reading “They’re Really Lovers, Not Fighters, Honest!” →

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Dogs in Need of Rescuing? (or vineyard hopping with the dogs)

Cara Achterberg

This weekend we were in Virginia wine country and decided to do a little winery-hopping. We stopped in Chrysalis Vineyards where OPH will be hosting their big fundraiser Bark, Wag, and Wine this September. It’s a gorgeous place with excellent wines, so we very much hope to attend. (You should, too!)

The day after we visited Chrysalis, we stopped into Barrel Oak Winery whose very name invites dogs (BOW – get it?) BOW was a bit over-the-top-dog-friendly. IMG_1209In fact, on this day they were overrun with Westies. For those of you unfamiliar, these are small wiry-haired white dogs that yap.images

There were Westies everywhere you looked and it made for very intentional foot travel as I didn’t want to step on one.

There were a few dog-sized dogs visiting the winery as well and compared to the somewhat frenetic Westies they seemed like large, lumbering behemoths. I don’t sound like a dog person, do I?  I’m probably exaggerating and maybe it was just that I missed my BIG foster dog of the moment.

Nick and I kept whispering, “We should have brought Carla – she would shut these little guys up with a single booming bark.” Bringing Carla would have been like showing up the mini-bike rally with a tricked out Harley.

Upon further investigation I discovered that it was Westie Rescue day at the winery. Continue reading “Dogs in Need of Rescuing? (or vineyard hopping with the dogs)” →

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Waiting for the Right Home

Cara Achterberg

And just like that, Stitch is gone. DSC_8743I’d be sad, except she’s found the perfect family. She’ll have kids to adore and be adored by, an active mommy, and no cats that are never in the mood to play anyway. This one was easier. I don’t worry about Stitch. I know what a good dog she is. I know she’s sweet and obedient and smart as a whip. Who wouldn’t love her? Especially cute kids like these…stitch

I’m happy for Stitch, so the lump in my throat is a little easier to swallow. What a great dog. What a lucky family. Amy e-mailed me tonight and said they’ve decided to keep the nickname we gave her, Stitch. We’re honored to have named such a stellar pup. Happy trails my little Stitcheroo!

Carla is still here. DSC_8464She may be here for a while. We’re okay with that. I want her to also find her perfect home. She will be harder to place and I’ll definitely worry more for her. She needs this next move to be her last. A dog can only have her heart broken so many times.

Carla will need someone who will give her plenty of exercise, indulge her affinity for soft beds, and not mind the fact that she barks. (And barks.). She has a lot to say.

When I’m slow mixing up breakfast, she swirls around my feet, chastising me excitedly, “Get a move on lady! My granny could whip that up faster than you with one hand tied behind her back!” The sheer volume is stressful and makes it hard for me to focus. Does she get the coconut oil in the morning or the probiotics? No matter, I’m certain she’d eat anything I served. Continue reading “Waiting for the Right Home” →

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Making Yourself at Home

Cara Achterberg

When you first meet someone that you like, you show all your good sides. You’re polite, respectful, careful not to say anything too offensive or expose how much you don’t know about say, football or lawn mowers. But as your relationship solidifies you can cut loose a little. I think that’s what’s happening with Stich (Symphony).

She’s reasonably confident that we aren’t going to kick her to the curb so she’s relaxing and letting her real personality out. A personality that is hysterical. It matches her goofy smile. Somehow the shape of her head and her enormous mouth combine to make her look like she is always grinning – literally ear to ear. She looks cartoon like. You can’t be in a bad mood when you’re hanging out with this dog. She’s just too funny.

DSC_8549I am her chosen person, but she keeps careful note of where everyone else is, rarely does she lie down unless we’re all in the same room. Nick and I have offices on opposite ends of the first floor, so when he works from home she spends her days in the room between us, keeping herself busy accumulating a cache of belongings in her crate (just in case?)

Maybe it’s the fact that she was living on the streets prior to coming here, but she is a hoarder. I was talking with another OPH foster a few weeks ago and listening to the funny story of how their dog, who was also a street dog, was an incredible hoarder, piling up everything she could gather and then nesting upon it. This has been Stitch’s strategy.

DSC_8550She accumulated her stash very quietly. I rarely saw her moving things around, but the shoes in the back of her cage piled up. She didn’t chew them like Galina, she simply gathered them. I applauded this activity because it saved me from nagging children to put their shoes away. Then she began rounding up all the dog toys and loading them into her cage. Next were any abandoned socks, a few random pens, and Ian’s graphing notebook.

Yesterday afternoon I noticed her crate had been cleaned out. There was only the blankets we’d put in there originally, none of her loot. I was the only one home, so I know it wasn’t a child with a sudden case of I’ve-got-to-clean (not that my kids have EVER had this little known condition). I looked in the living room and found Carla’s bed piled with Stitch’s stash. She’d even added two pairs of snow pants she’d pulled out of the Goodwill box in the hallway. Continue reading “Making Yourself at Home” →

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A Stranger in a Strange Land

Cara Achterberg

Bringing a strange dog home isn’t my favorite part of fostering. The first 24 hours, heck the first three days, even first week, the dog is a foreigner in a strange land. She doesn’t know how to act. She doesn’t know the rules. We don’t know what to expect from her. Will she get along? Will she pee all over my house? Can she be trusted? The cats are never happy. The answers are all over the place.

Pretty much each of the dogs we’ve brought home, with the exception of Wheat Penny (who was a puppy and had no expectations, baggage, or attitudes) has seemed like a completely different dog after a few days compared to the dog we brought home from transport.

Symphony is no exception.11090842_935901093116103_4658826510233429709_o

The dog I picked up on Saturday morning was much smaller than we anticipated. She was nervous, unsure, and peed pretty much every few minutes everywhere she went as if she were marking her territory. (It’s also possible she had a urinary tract infection from the long time spent in a crate for travel from South Carolina.)

She growled at Gracie and threatened the cats. She pulled on the leash when I walked her and escaped out of the house twice (she is a door opener which means she is no dumb cookie). She refused her dinner, was silent, wary, watching us. I never saw her sit down – not once – the whole day. She walked from room to room keeping track of everyone. Although she looks more like a Boston Terrier than a Border Collie, I would guess there is some kind of herding dog in there somewhere.

The first night, I went to bed exhausted from taking Symphony outside to pee every fifteen minutes, walking Carla, supervising all the interactions between the dogs, and cleaning up after Symphony’s efforts to establish her presence. Here’s the thoughts that raced through my mind and kept me from sleeping, I can’t do this. What have I gotten myself into? Two foster dogs is too much for me. I am a wimpy foster mommy. How the heck do these people have three and four dogs? They must be nuts. I must be nuts. This is the last dog. Ever. Continue reading “A Stranger in a Strange Land” →

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I’m With the Coonhound

Cara Achterberg

Carla and I have gone running several mornings this week. She is an enthusiastic companion. As she has emerged from her time of mourning, her energy has increased. She continues to challenge me to run faster than my well-worn knees would like to travel. (I use the word ‘run’ loosely, it’s more like a ‘jog.’ I just like to say run because it makes it sound much more impressive.) On steeper spots of my regular run when I might normally be tempted to slow to a walk, I can’t bear to ask it of Carla and push on through, sometimes letting her steady pull propel me forward.

There was a time, early in my running career when men in trucks (there are many here in Pennsyltucky roaming about checking their fence lines or looking for a good fishing hole at the early hour at which I typically hit the roads) would slow and note my progress, sometimes even chatting me up. Those days are past now and the only man in a truck who stops to visit with me on my runs is my hay-guy Kevin and we usually just talk about hay.

This week with Carla by my side, pretty much every pick-up truck, mud-splattered four-wheel drive or vehicle built prior to the 1980s slows as it passes me. They aren’t checking out the middle age woman on my end of the leash, they are all about the gorgeous coonhound on the other.IMG_1128

Continue reading “I’m With the Coonhound” →

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Three Dog Weekend

Cara Achterberg

It’s been a three-dog weekend. Which means that I’ve spent a lot of time on the other end of a leash. This morning I successfully walked “big dog” (new foster Carla) and “little dog” (old foster Wheat Penny) at the same time. We made it just over two miles before Wheat Penny began dive-bombing Carla. Carla was unfazed, ignoring her full body pelts and then simply dragged the varmint along after she grabbed Carla’s leash and attempted to fling her about (effectively flinging herself about instead.) Carla’s got a few pounds on Wheat Penny.IMG_1625

Let me introduce you to Carla. She has a regal way about her, rising above the other dogs snarls and craziness. She is a gorgeous 65+ pound Treeing Walker Coonhound who was surrendered by her owners (previous OPH adopters) after four years. The owners are expecting a fourth baby and Carla became too much for them. As her previous owner put it, “Carla is just existing here, she’s not living.” Here was this enormous hound dog trying to be a suburban pet in a busy household who increasingly had no time for her. I can’t resent these owners for surrendering her, only be glad that they did. Carla deserves a better life and they knew that. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision. Because who could toss out a face like this- Continue reading “Three Dog Weekend” →