Estelle, fostering, oph, puppies

Estelle is a Rock Star Mom

Let me just say that four puppies is much less than twelve. And a 30 pound dog is much easier than a 60 pound dog. Sure, those are generalizations, but I do feel a bit like a marathoner who is running a 5K.

Estelle is a rockstar mom. The puppies are fat and shiny and eleven days old, but Estelle already seems restless. I think in human terms she’s one of those moms who has a hundred Pinterest boards and writes three blogs, while making all homemade baby food and teaching step aerobics.

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She hops in the box, does a quick clean up and lays down to let the pups nurse. And then she hops right back out of the box and takes a tour of the tiny room she’s trapped in, checking under the grow light table and in the buckets under the mudsink. When I toss toys in for her to play with, she inspects them and then carries them into the box and nestles them beside her pups. Then she stands guard by the gate, growling at strangers (which include my children) and barking at her reflection in the front door glass pane or the cats moving around on the porch. Each time Gracie barks Continue reading “Estelle is a Rock Star Mom”

fosterdogs, fostering, oph, puppies

Houdini and Houseguests

It’s normally pretty busy around here, but this weekend the dogs drove us to a new normal. In addition to Edith who was recovering from her spay operation (and still insisting that someone please throw this ball for me!),

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our own darling Gracie (who maxed out on her putting-up-with-guest-dogs limit),

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three puppies (one of which turned out to be a Houdini of sorts and another of which developed exploding diarrhea for about 36 hours),

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we had houseguests who brought their own adorable muppet dog (at my invitation, cause, you know, there’s no such thing as too many dogs….).

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The initial arrival of Chewie (short for Chewbacca), brought a full chorus of welcomes (or warnings) from all five of our canine residents. Gracie was surprisingly more friendly to Chewie than she’s been to the three rascals in the puppy room. (Although, she has stopped snarling at the puppies and now simply pretends they don’t exist, avoiding the room altogether.) Edith was thrilled to welcome five more humans, cozying up to each of them in turn. She now has five more fans. The only evidence of any increased stress for Edith was that she upped her intake of stuffed pumpkins, obliterating five of them while our guests were here. The puppies LOVED Chewie, but he found their enthusiasm a little too much as he is a grown up one-year-old and all.

Lucky for us, everybody who lives here is pretty much immune to the noise and chaos and our friends are easy guests, so it worked. They weren’t the least bit fazed when I told them we’d put a new jumbo pack of earplugs in the guest bath for their use. Sure, sleep was at a premium and I’m not certain anyone (except perhaps my college age son who was home for the weekend and didn’t get out of bed until 3pmish on Saturday) got a restful night’s sleep. Continue reading “Houdini and Houseguests”

fosterdogs, fostering, oph, puppies

Election Results

When I woke last Wednesday morning and the election was finally over, I was devastated. I looked out at the rain and it felt like my best plan of action was to crawl back in bed and not get up for four years.

But then I had another thought.

“Suck it up, Buttercup,” I told myself.

I can handle this. And besides, I’m not always right. It is my greatest hope that I am completely wrong on this one. Now, don’t let that sidetrack you. This is not a political post. That’s just a confession of where I was when I made a crazy decision.

I got out of bed, had some caffeine and changed the notifications on my Facebook (I did put on my big-girl panties, but that doesn’t mean I could stomach the taunting or rejoicing of those for which it was a bright sunny morning).

And then I decided what I really needed was some puppies. That would put everything in perspective for me, or at the very least, it would be a grand distraction and a place to channel my excess emotions. Continue reading “Election Results”

adopters, Dogs with Issues, fosterdogs, fostering, Momma Bear, Nowzad dogs, oph, poop, puppies, returned dogs, Updates

It’s Hard, Every Time (but that’s not the point)

“Isn’t it hard to give them away?”

If you foster dogs, this is a question tossed at you on a regular basis. I hear it so often, that I thought I’d just take a moment to set the record straight.

Yes, it is hard to give them away. Every time. Sometimes it’s harder than others.

For instance, I won’t miss cleaning up after twelve puppies, but I will miss each of these precious pups who I’ve come to know and love. I will miss George’s impish ways and Zora’s constant need for hugs. I will miss Louisa May’s soft, soft coat and the quiet way Eudora leans in to me wanting my attention but not demanding it like the others. I will miss all these pups. Just like I miss all the dogs and puppies that came before them.

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So, yes, it is very hard to give them away. But I know when they arrive at my house that the day is coming when I will watch them leave. I don’t ever think of these dogs as ‘mine.’ I think of the time they have with me as a sort of a grace period. It’s my gift to them- a safe place to get their feet underneath themselves and know love and security so they are ready to go to their forever homes.

In the beginning, fostering for us was about having fun with a new dog, we even flirted with keeping one or another. Continue reading “It’s Hard, Every Time (but that’s not the point)”

Edith Wharton, fosterdogs, fostering, oph, poop, puppies

Puppies Ruin Your Life

After over six weeks with these pups, here’s the thing that is getting to me—there are so many of them. Yes, yes, I know. I knew there were twelve when I picked them up. But back then they were tiny. Their little shiny bodies could be held in one hand.

Having fostered a litter of nine puppies last spring, I really thought that twelve wasn’t that many more.

It’s just that it is.

Twelve is a lot.

Adjustments have to be made. Not just enlarging the pen, but in terms of equipment and strategies. You can’t feed twelve puppies with a couple dog food bowls. There would be a riot and little Georgie might get trampled. So, instead, we use a plastic veggie tray which is large and round with six sections, plus another three section serving tray. (Don’t worry— I probably won’t use either again at our parties!)

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A water bowl also won’t work for twelve puppies, so instead I use a big, tall-sided plastic chip and dip tray, filling the chip area with water so that six or ten puppies can drink all at once. Puppies tend to do everything enmass. (Again – I promise you probably won’t see this dish at our shindigs!) The chip/dip tray works great unless the kennel attendant steps on a side of it. If that happens the room is flooded and the freshly laid puppy pads are soaked. The residents find that to be a fun situation. Continue reading “Puppies Ruin Your Life”

Edith Wharton, fosterdogs, fostering, heartworms, oph, puppies

Pint Size Puppies and Gallon Size Hearts

“They are so much smaller than they look in the pictures!”

This is pretty much what everyone says when meeting the puppies for the first time.

To me, they’re giant poop-filled monsters compared to the little moles they were when they arrived five weeks ago. At that point most of them weighed less than a pound, with tiny George weighing just 10 ounces and Beatrix weighing the most at 1 pound 1 oz. Hemingway is now the biggest puppy. At nearly nine pounds, he’s four pounds bigger than George. According to the lab growth charts he could top out at 82 pounds! That’s a big dog. Whoopi-size.

So, to give you some scale, I took a few pictures of the puppies with random items. I used Virginia in the first two pictures because she is one of the average size puppies. In the third picture (you’ll note my attempt at free advertising in this one), I used Beatrix because in my absence there had been a rumble and she had the least amount of poop on her. Beatrix is one of the largest puppies, generally trading off second place with Zora. Continue reading “Pint Size Puppies and Gallon Size Hearts”

Edith Wharton, fosterdogs, oph, puppies

The Real Poop, I Mean Scoop, on Fostering Puppies

Each time I think about what I should write in this update on Edith and the Dastardly Dozen (or Darling Dozen depending on the moment and the audience), I can’t seem to begin anywhere but with the poop. I’m not trying to scare you or discourage you from fostering puppies yourself, but there truly is no way around the poop. (I know there are several other OPH foster mommies who will back me up on this.)

My first litter of six shocked me with the sheer quantity and variety of ways that puppies can poop. But I survived it and the puppies more than made up for their messes with their sweetness and puppy breath.

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I was ready and knew exactly what I was getting into when I volunteered to take half of Lily’s litter off Chris’ hands last winter. I think that month with just five in the pen was oh-so-manageable.

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When Schuyler’s supposedly three puppies morphed into NINE puppies I was decidedly overwhelmed at times, but again I survived and lived to tell. Plus those Hamilton puppies were something special.

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But, can I just speak frankly here? Continue reading “The Real Poop, I Mean Scoop, on Fostering Puppies”

Edith Wharton, fosterdogs, oph, puppies

Puppy Progress

It’s been a big week for the pupperoos. They are growing and changing, and believe it or not, getting EVEN CUTER.

They have yet to breach the wall, but every day more of them look longingly across it.

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I know it’s only a matter of days (maybe hours) before I walk into the kitchen to find them on the loose. Which is why I’m preparing the puppy room. The puppy room has been empty since spring and in the interim has filled up with all manner of flotsam.

The original use for the puppy room was as a “mud room.” When we renovated our house, we planned to put a large closet with a small sink in our front hall. That way everyone traipsing inside with muddy boots and mitts would have a place to IMMEDIATELY clean up. Best laid plans, you know? Continue reading “Puppy Progress”

Edith Wharton, fostering, puppies, Uncategorized

Expecting

Not much has gone as expected for the past few days. Okay, well, a few things. My husband took off for France. Ian won his soccer game, and Addie got the part she wanted in the school play (of course it wasn’t the part I expected she’d get as she’ll be Blackstache instead of Molly or any other part normally assigned a girl in Peter and the Starcatchers). The tomatoes continue to produce, as do the horses, and now that school has started pretty much no one puts their dishes in the dishwasher. Those things I expected and they happened. Yay, life behaving itself.

What hasn’t gone as expected is most everything having to do with our 50th foster dog.

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I’d painted this lovely romantic picture in my mind of our 50th foster dog, Edith Wharton, giving birth to a handful of puppies in our kitchen as we all watched and were amazed by the miracle. What a great experience for our milestone foster. I was so ready.

I borrowed a really nice handbuilt whelping box from my neighbors (who at this point are probably beginning to wish they lived on a different road as I hit them up for pretty much every dog dilemma I have). We set it up in our kitchen and Nick ran to the hardware store and bought foam pipe insulators to cover the top edges so Edith wouldn’t rub her heavy belly on it when she climbed in. I set down a layer of soft things and puppy pads in preparation.

I looked through my calendar for the next week or so, making sure I could be home if necessary, already preparing my excuses (“Sorry, you’re on the own. Gotta go. There’s a dog giving birth in my kitchen…”)

I read about puppy whelping and even watched a few badly made YouTube videos of it actually happening. I gathered advice from my knowledgeable dog-breeder neighbor and made a list of the supplies I’d need. A box of some of those supplies arrived from OPH (thanks Gina!) and pretty soon I was ALL READY. Edith was due to arrive in less than 24 hours!

And then I checked my email.

Apparently Edith was not made aware of my preparations and my whelping box and she gave birth to the puppies at the shelter that morning.

I was disappointed and a little bit relieved.

Here’s the other unexpected news – Continue reading “Expecting”

adopters, fosterdogs, fostering, Lucy, Oberyn, oph, puppies, Rooney

50th Times the Charm

Our house is much quieter. (for now)

Rooney finally went home with her new forever mom after a long wait. They met over a week ago and fell in love, but we had to wait for Rooney to finish her antibiotics and be 100% healthy so she could go home. Which she did on Friday. And we all miss her. My little brother will be very happy to know Rooney is in the Air Force now! Her mom is one of America’s finest.

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Before she left, she, Lucy, and Obie had a fun week.

Here’s Obie and Lucy sharing a stick:

And here’s Rooney and Obie not sharing a pumpkin: Continue reading “50th Times the Charm”