Tag: OPH

fosterdogs, oph, Schuyler puppies, Uncategorized

Introducing….Schuyler!

Cara Achterberg

DSC_3351Every 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.

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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!” →

fosterdogs, oph, puppies, Schuyler puppies, Uncategorized

Who Wants a Hamilton Pup?

Cara Achterberg

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).

So, let me take a shot at differentiating these nine glorious bundles of happy – Continue reading “Who Wants a Hamilton Pup?” →

fosterdogs, oph, Schuyler puppies, Uncategorized

Weaning is Not for the Faint of Heart

Cara Achterberg

I’ve been thinking a lot about weaning. Mostly this is because I’ve been helping Schuyler let go of her pups and reclaim her independence, but also because my 16-year-old is straining to wean herself from our cloying care. But, really, isn’t that what raising a parent is all about? Teaching them that you can make it on your own? (As long as you have a cell phone and they’re paying the bills?)

Schuyler’s much better at this weaning process than me. She began weaning her pups at 3-weeks. In dog years, what’s that? Like maybe the equivalent of four months? Kind of standard for the very beginning of weaning a baby, too, I suppose.

The puppies were just over two weeks old, when she began struggling to keep up with their demands for food and they began sharing her bowl of kibble. I wetted the food so they wouldn’t choke on it and once the puppies discovered they could eat solid food they doubled their weight in a week.

As the pups embraced puppy food, Schuyler seemed less enamored of them and preferred to hang with me when given the option. Continue reading “Weaning is Not for the Faint of Heart” →

fosterdogs, oph, puppies, Schuyler puppies

The Similarities between Life with Babies and Life with Puppies

Cara Achterberg

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Caring for these puppies brings back so many memories of caring for my own babies.

For instance, everything looks like a potential choke hazard or a threat to their safety. I worry about them all day long – is it too hot? Too cold? Can that one breathe on the bottom of the pile? Is the water bowl too full – could one fall in it and drown? Was that a sneeze? It’s gotten ridiculous – I’m even examining the fringy edges of the older towels – what if a puppy started eating this loose string and kept going and going….

Sometimes when the puppies sleep, they sleep so hard I worry they’re dead. SPD – Sudden Puppy Death Syndrome – is there such a thing? I don’t know, so I lay a quiet hand on a belly to check if they’re breathing. Lafayette and Peggy sleep so deeply they don’t move, even when other puppies trample them or I lift their heads trying to get a reaction.

And the laundry! Just like when I had babies and toddlers at home, the laundry is endless. Non stop. Towel after towel after rag after blanket. Truly unending.

The sounds are also reminiscent of living with babies – there is crying and whining, but there is also that wonderful snuffly sound they make when they’re nursing. They’re just learning to work their vocal chords and the volume and repertoire is growing daily.

When they chase their own tails and then chew on them, it reminds me of my own babies discovering their toes and being so delighted they had to put their toes in their mouths.

Probably the greatest similarity is that my days now revolve around poop. Continue reading “The Similarities between Life with Babies and Life with Puppies” →

fosterdogs, oph, puppies, Schuyler puppies

Gracie Saves the Day (Night)

Cara Achterberg

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I know I don’t say a lot of positive things on the blog about my personal dog, Gracie. In fact, she is many times the foil in my stories. And for good reason as she is less than welcoming of any foster dog we bring home.

Partly, this is because she is socially awkward – sort of a permanent middle schooler. And partly, this is because she doesn’t have an obedient bone in her body and her mental capabilities can many times be suspect.

Still, she’s very cute. That’s pretty much her saving grace.

Other than that, it’s many times hard to find a redeeming quality in this dog we’ve had for eight years who still rolls in horse manure every chance she gets, spends entire days barking at imaginary dangers in our neighbor’s yard, chases the cats, has never (ever) come when she is called, and threatens to take out the poor UPS guy every week. (She bit the Fed Ex guy, so we don’t see him very often anymore.)

Because of the horse manure-rolling issue, she isn’t allowed on the furniture. As you would expect, this means that her days revolve around finding a way onto the furniture (this despite the fact that she has three dog beds to choose from). To combat this, bedroom doors are kept closed and every piece of furniture in my house is loaded with barricades – boards (expressly kept in the house for this task), upturned cushions, books, even shoes if that’s all I can find. Suffice it to say, our house will never be on a home tour.

She has periodic barking fits aimed at nothing visible to the rest of us (or the foster dogs, some of whom will back her up and others who only look at her like she’s possessed). She will run up and down the steps, circle the living room, racing from door to door and back to us as if she is clearly trying to tell us something. Sometimes when she is on a barking tear, Nick will tease her- “What is it Lassie? Did Johnny fall down the well?”

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Whenever I complain about her, the kids come to her defense. They love her. (Although they rarely want to go track her down in the pouring rain when she’s run through her invisible fence and spent a few hours wallowing in horse poop.)

But Saturday night, Gracie finally redeemed herself. Big time.

It was late, probably close to 3am, when she started barking like the lune she can be. I felt like I had just fallen asleep, having stayed up after midnight waiting to hear the sound of the car in the driveway (driven by my 16-year-old starlet coming home from a cast party 30 minutes away in a nasty storm).

Gracie was barking intensely, racing up and down the stairs between our door and the living room. Continue reading “Gracie Saves the Day (Night)” →

fosterdogs, oph, puppies, Schuyler puppies

Cat has gone to the cats, but Meet the Hamilton Puppies!

Cara Achterberg

“So, now instead of twelve dogs, we only have eleven.”

I’m sure I never imagined I’d utter that remark in my lifetime.

Catalina took off for her forever home today. Of course, it’s only a trial adoption since Heather has cats and Cat has a small cat obsession. We shall see.

I’m hoping it sticks because that will mean she stays local and I can keep tabs on her. I can’t wait to see if she grows into those big, goofy feet.

Cat’s adoption may make it harder for my husband to get his favorite contractor out here ever again. Heather’s other half is Barry who is our go-to guy for all matters involving digging, block laying, paving, or moving anything large. He’s built a rock wall, re-graded our hillside, yanked out a few trees by their roots, addressed our barn flooding issue, and paved our driveway in the past and now he’s back to help us with our garage building project this summer.

Heather met Cat the day she and Barry were here to quote the job. When Heather introduced Cat to Barry, he said, “But we’ve almost gotten rid of the kids….”

He’s a softie, though, so he called only a few hours later and said, “What do we have to do to get this dog?”

Somehow, I doubt he’ll be in a hurry to come out the next time Nick calls him with a job.

It’s a great home though, so here’s hoping Cat can figure out how to live with cats.

Meanwhile, let me introduce you to our newest guests….Momma Schuyler and the cast of Hamilton-

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Schuyler
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Alexander Hamilton

Continue reading “Cat has gone to the cats, but Meet the Hamilton Puppies!” →

fosterdogs, oph, puppies, Uncategorized

When Three is Really Nine It’s Good to have a Solid Marriage

Cara Achterberg

The email said, “Jen just posted a momma and 3 pups on Facebook.”

Mindy knew I was jonesing for some puppies, so I appreciated the heads up. I checked the page and there was a picture of a momma and there were five pictures of individual puppies. I examined them and decided that some of the pictures were just different angles of the same pups.

And the pups were adorable- only two weeks old, their eyes barely open. Like human newborns, unless they’re yours they all do look kind of alike.

And mom even looked a little like Lily.

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I’ll take ‘em, I said. Yay puppies for Easter!

I went for a bike ride with hubby and broke the news. Continue reading “When Three is Really Nine It’s Good to have a Solid Marriage” →

Catalina, Destruction, fosterdogs, oph, puppies

BLM (Black Lab Mix)- the Catchall Breed of Rescue Dogs

Cara Achterberg

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And the dog wheel goes round and round. The only thing consistent is the color of all these dogs – black.

When I turned up at the OPH event in York this past Sunday, it seemed like a bit of a racist event – all black dogs. Well, to be honest, there were a couple brown dogs and even one tiny white (and black!) dog named (appropriately) Sylvester, but they were all on the smaller size, so they were eclipsed by sheer size and number of big, black dogs.

If OPH has a trademark dog is must be “black lab mix.” BLMs are prevalent in the site’s listings on most days. Nothing wrong with a BLM, mind you, I’m just a hound girl myself.

Bernie landed in a stellar forever home on Sunday. She’s got an adorable, like-sized fursister to hang with and two of her very own children! Her new family was super nice and they seemed like a perfect fit. They sent me pictures later in the day that clearly showed Bernie (now Zora) is making herself right at home. Happy for Bern!

With Bernie’s departure, we welcomed our fourth BLM of 2016 on Sunday. Catalina is a skinny (seriously skinny), leggy, long-nosed girl who resembles a German shepherd in her size/shape/nose length, but has the short black coat of a lab. She’s spent the last week in a local boarding facility as there was no room in the foster inn.

When I met Catalina, she was nervously guarding her own personal space at the event – happy to meet people, but snarling at dogs that crowded her. Perhaps a week in boarding, after a month or two in a shelter, had made her a little defensive and suspicious. Being shuffled like a number and lodged with other nervous strangers in noisy unfamiliar quarters would make me touchy, too, so I tried not to judge. Just took her leash and carted her quaking self home. Continue reading “BLM (Black Lab Mix)- the Catchall Breed of Rescue Dogs” →

Berneen, Okeriete, oph

Being the Mama

Cara Achterberg

There’s something about mama dogs.

It’s as if they know something other dogs don’t.

I remember a similar feeling after giving birth to my own first born. The world seemed maybe not so simple, while at the same time it was much clearer to me what matters.

Berneen (or Bernie as we’ve taken to calling her as she is also a bit of a rumpled underdog) has clearly been a mama. Her body would testify to that, but so would her heart.

I picked her up from boarding on Sunday in the rain. She ducked her head as I herded her to my car, but I know now it wasn’t because of the rain. That’s been her way. She’s an incredibly humble dog, always wanting to get out of your way, not claim too much space. She still crumbles to the floor when I reach for her collar to snap the leash on and whimpers in gratitude once it’s clear we’re going for a walk.

She spent the first two days here sleeping. She lay on the Frank bed (covered with a blanket because I worried when she hadn’t peed for hours – although she has yet to have any accidents). She lay with her legs tucked under her so that she resembled a seal. She seemed exhausted, not even raising her head when we moved about the kitchen. I wondered if she was mourning something or someone or if the last months of being a stray and a shelter dog were very hard and finally she was in a safe place where she could sleep.

She’s clearly been someone’s dog before. She’s housebroken and well-mannered. She reminded me of Carla when she first arrived – another heartbroken dog.

Oak was just dying to meet her and when I finally allowed it, he crawled all over her, like the puppy he is. Continue reading “Being the Mama” →

fosterdogs, Meredith, Okeriete, oph, puppies

There’s Always Another Good Dog

Cara Achterberg

Fostering has so much become our way of life that all my kids (and most of their friends) always close the baby gate behind them when they leave the kitchen, even when there’s no dog about. They are careful when they exit/enter the house, looking all around them like soldiers averting land mines. No one wants to chase a foster dog up the hill.

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Visitors don’t bat an eye at the keys hanging out of the front door lock (on the outside) because they know that some of our fosters (Meredith, Tennessee, John Coffey, and Frank) know how to work a lever handle door. Even if you’re only going for a piece of wood for the fire or to throw some scraps to the chickens, LOCK the door behind you.

The stacks of towels, bags of food, and random collars that litter the landscape of our house don’t look so out of place to me anymore. I just dust around them (if I were to dust).

Best of all, there’s no need to explain the random crates, assorted dogs, or that funny smell to anyone who stops by because they know all about my dog habit.

Meredith took off for her forever home on Monday after being a ROCK STAR at the Hanover OPH event. She was a much different dog than the frightened little girl who hid behind me on her first visit to the pet store. Continue reading “There’s Always Another Good Dog” →