Tag: hound dog

dog rescue, Dogs with Issues, foster dogs, fosterdogs, Lucy, oph, puppies, Uncategorized

Second Chances

Cara Sue Achterberg

Now that I’m back to walking (YES! MRI revealed lots of damage, but nothing to stop me from moving forward and continuing to heal on my own!) I’ve had a chance to catch up on my thinking. So much was backlogged in my brain – ideas, worries, dreams, questions, stories. Lucy and I have increased our walk time each day this week and this morning we wandered the back roads for nearly an hour.

I’m still mulling over the book Rescue Road and pondering the enormous challenges to dog rescue in the US (and in the world). I had begun to feel the same way I did when my elementary school science teacher explained how far away Pluto was – it seemed like an insurmountable distance.

My teeny, tiny part in rescuing dogs couldn’t possibly put even the idea of a dent in the problem. Probably my thoughts were colored by my inability to move without pain. But now, the world looks different. I’m ready to get back in the game. I’m ready to save some more dogs.

I’ve had my moments of frustration with Lucy these past few weeks. She has come so far – she’s no longer scratching and her beautiful tri-colored coat is coming back in, her energy levels are rising (and rising!), and her happiness quotient somehow went even higher.

DSC_4390
Here she is playing with the filling for the Frank bed.

My frustration springs from the fact that she is not accustomed to living indoors. It hasn’t been an easy transition. Part of me wants to put her on a line outside. She’d probably be more comfortable. That’s what she’s known. Instead, we keep her in the kitchen and walk her frequently. We reward her when she pees outside and admonish her when she pees inside.

I think she finally understands she shouldn’t pee on our floor, but this morning when she evidently couldn’t hold it a moment longer, she peed on the Frank bed. I was so angry! Why would she do this? Why? Why? Why? I took her outside and then I closed her in her crate. Continue reading “Second Chances” →

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

Our Present Pack of Pups

Cara Sue 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.

DSC_4280

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” →

Uncategorized

Waiting for the Right Home

Cara Sue 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” →

Uncategorized

Mixed Emotions of Foster Dogs and Dog Fosters

Cara Sue Achterberg

DSC_8427After all the exuberant happiness of our last two foster girls, it is quite a different story with Carla. My best guess is that she is mourning. She misses her family. After all, she was with them for four years; it’s a big loss for her.

Every now and again I catch a glimpse of the happy girl that’s buried in there somewhere, but most of her time is spent lying around, looking sad. To be fair, she is a hound and forlorn is the default expression on most hound faces, especially ones with droopy eyes and long ears.

The appetite that we were warned about is not in evidence. She barely eats her meals and refuses all treats. She has yet to attempt to even counter surf (although she has the height and reputation to excel in this sport). When I’m bummed out I don’t eat either, so I get it.

Today she is talking a lot. She gave me some hound mutters when she first woke up and then spent the afternoon standing on the deck barking at the woods – certain there was something afoot in there. Hounds, maybe particularly coonhounds, have a lot to say. Carla was quiet during her first few days, but now she is vocal. Maybe she’s decided we’re worth protecting or maybe she has simply found her voice.

I took her for a run and was delighted to discover that she is an excellent and inspiring running partner. We did the fastest 3 ½ miles I’ve done in months. She was all business, never stopping for her personal business, and only a few times tugging towards an errant squirrel. I truly hope her forever family includes at least one runner.

And maybe a camper or hiker or hunter. She’s all about the woods and most especially, the stream. That’s when I see the real Carla. She lights up and pulls towards the creek when we approach, happily splashing in it as I do my best not be dragged in behind her.IMG_1638

On Monday, Wheat Penny (now Ladki – Hindi for lady) left for the high life as a spoiled only child of a super loving mama. She must have a wind at her back. She is one lucky dog. I spent the day keeping her close, even letting her destroy a pen in honor of her leave-taking. Such a sweet puppy. I will cherish the time we had with her and hope for periodic updates.DSC_8371

At least two people in the last few days have expressed to me how much they wish they could foster, but don’t think they could stand to give up a dog. I’ve thought a lot about that. It does hurt, but for me, it’s a sacrifice worth making so that we can help more dogs. I know there are plenty of great homes out there and people who can love a dog as well or better than me. So I’m willing to be a link between a sad, possibly terminal life in a shelter and a happy forever home even if sometimes that tugs at my heart and leaves a lump in my throat. I don’t have to be everyone’s forever home.

What’s making me re-think this foster idea is Carla. She is almost exactly the dog I’m looking for, the one we spent all those hours visiting shelters in search of. But I don’t want to be a foster fail (foster lingo for a foster mommy who adopts her foster dog). I want to help more dogs. It is very tempting to hold on to Carla. I know we could make her happy here, but I am also certain that there is a forever home out there waiting for her. Someone else looking for a dog just like Carla.

So for as long as we have her, we will love her and nurture her and work very hard to bring out the happy dog I’m certain is there beneath the surface of all her present sadness. Because she is not a young dog (she’s six), she may not be as quick to be adopted. And that’s okay because she is a welcome guest here for as long as she needs us.DSC_8421

Uncategorized

Three Dog Weekend

Cara Sue 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” →

Uncategorized

I’ll Take a Hound Dog Any Day

Cara Sue Achterberg

DSC_7920I love hound dogs. Always have. I think I like them so much because they’re such dogs. They chase rabbits. They follow scents. They’re the kind of dogs that love mud and woods and food. Galina is still puppy enough to chew everything she encounters, but she’s got the hound habits in spades. My daughter says she’s a “cartoon dog” because she does all the classic things dogs do in the funny papers.

Hounds aren’t yappy, but when they do bark – it’s LOUD. That sweet, long bay is music to my ears. Galina’s bays are few and far between, which is probably a good thing. When I was younger I often fox hunted and it was exciting to follow the hounds on horseback. Their steady yips meant they were on the trail and we chased after them over fences and through the woods. But what I loved the most was the sound they made when the fox “went to ground” (went in his hole). The chorus of bays was eerie and at the same time gorgeous.

Hounds do seem to have endless energy, but on the flipside, most hound dogs also love to lounge in the sunshine. Think Rosco P Coltrane and his dog “Flash” on the Dukes of Hazzard. They can sleep for hours and when they wake up they can run for hours.

Hounds are not complicated. There is something so completely honest about a hound dog. And they’re smart. Okay, not poodle-smart, not let me show-you-my-tricks smart or let-me-sneak-the-bag-of-cat-food-I-just-pulled-out-of-the-cabinet-and-eat-it-behind-the-sofa smart. They’re smart enough to know basic expectations. Here’s the food. Time to eat. Here’s the door. Time to run. Here’s the sun spot on the carpet or the porch. Time to sleep. Continue reading “I’ll Take a Hound Dog Any Day” →