Almost Home

My ulterior motive.

2010-08-10T21:16:00.000-04:00

I have a confession to make.

When I envisioned fostering a dog through doberman rescue, it did cross my mind that he would be an effective walking partner.

Let me clarify.

I don't live in crime-infested neighborhood by any means, but I do live in a city with a...um...wide variety of neighbors. And if I want to run down to the corner store in the evening, well....I don't. Now, if I take Louie with me, people look at me askance and, generally keep moving. But sometimes, someone will strike up a conversation about how pretty he is and what kind of breed is he and so on. As a reminder, this is Louie:

(He's the gray spotted one--not the orange tiny curled up on the big pillow.)

Let's be honest. Louie isn't intimidating. In fact, he couldn't be less intimidating if I dressed him in a pink tutu and tied ribbons on his ears. He's cute, fluffy, and a huge weenie.

A doberman, though. That's some real muscle. They're big and strong, and this one has crazy bat ears. You don't generally look at them and think, "Man, I bet that one is fun to snuggle." If that's discriminatory, then so be it. You know it's true.

So, on the day we brought Jack home, we hooked him up to the leash and immediately went for a walk. Within five minutes, Jack neared two young men who were walking down the sidewalk. Jack looked at them. They looked at Jack. And then moved into the middle of the street where, obviously, they felt safer.

And I'm okay with that. I mean, I'm all about changing people's perceptions about certain breeds and rescue dogs. That's just part of the job. But a part of me giggles (internally!) when people see Jack and their eyes go wide. Hopefully, logic will dictate that if I, a 30-something shorty-pants female, can walk him easily, he should pose no threat to them. On the other hand, I now have a great bodyguard for those impromptu trips to the corner store.

But, please. Don't tell them that his favorite thing to do is to curl up on his leopard-print pillow. That really detracts from the ferocious persona.

Blackjack

2010-08-09T19:30:00.000-04:00

Since Scoot was adopted shortly before Christmas, I have:

1. moved,
2. started a new job,
3. bought a new house,
4. spent waaaay too much time enjoying the food & beverage options in my new town,
5. and hooked up with doberman rescue.

Dobermans? Really? (I've asked myself this many times.) And yes, crazy though it sounds, I have a dog the size of a small pony sitting in my living room right now.

All we knew about Jack before we met him face-to-face was that he'd been found wandering in a rural area by someone from Brittany Spaniel rescue. He'd demonstrated aggression towards an unneutered male and had exhibited some food aggression. Oh, and his name was Jimmy. Yeah--that's right. Jimmy. To skip ahead a bit, I'll just say that "Jimmy" had a new name by the end of the day.

So, we prepared ourselves. We ordered a muzzle to help us work with the food aggression. We armed ourselves with sneakers (for us!) and a no-slip collar and leash (for him!), and headed up the coast to check out our new foster.

Our plan was to get him home, pick up Louie the Australian Shepherd, and walk them both to death. Louie is a lover and a pest when he wants to play--not the best traits to mix with an aggressive male. The goal was to burn off as much energy as possible.

We started Jack off in a prong collar and quickly found it unnecessary, so we swapped to the no-slip collar and continued on our way. And his opinion of Louie? It seemed to be something along the lines of, "Hm. A dog. Brilliant."

We finally arrived at the house and took them inside, fully expecting a squabble over a toy or a bed or a water bowl. Anything, I guess, but this:

Um...Jack? Aren't you going to growl? Curl your lip? Anything?

Nope.

After a little napping, we decided it was time for a bath.

("We," of course, being the humans.)

Jack was not impressed by this turn of events...

...but since his foster brother got the same treatment, he didn't balk much.

After that traumatic experience, it was time for some petting.

It's a shame Jack is such an aggressive...um...cuddler. Vicious.

To date, Jack has exhibited no aggression, a fondness for food and petting and cats (sorry, cats), and an unbelievable talent for alternating between boundless energy and comatose naptimes. We have vet appointments scheduled for this week and lots more getting-to-know-you time (complete with photoshoots!) lined up for the week. I'll be sure to keep you updated, and in the meantime, if you're interested in a snuggler the size of a small pony, I may have someone here you might like to meet!

Bye, Scoot

2010-08-05T18:46:00.002-04:00

In October 2008, a bedraggled little Australian Shepherd came to my house for a one week visit. Diagnosed with a cocktail of health problems, one week quickly turned into a month. A respiratory infection required antibiotic. One month turned into three when heartworms required life-threatening treatment. Finally, she was given a clean bill of health, but nobody really showed an interest in adopting her. The economy had tanked, and three months slowly slid into a year.

We took photos night and day, coaxing her into the silliest and cutest poses in the hopes of winning the heart of some stranger. We talked her up to our friends, asking anyone and everyone if they were in the market for a dog. We got nothing. Nada.

In the meantime, we kept up with our busy lives. We were in and out of town constantly. Sometimes, the dogs did some traveling, too. Other times, it just made sense to hire a petsitter. And boy, did we love our petsitter. Mary walked the dogs, loved the dogs, fed them, bathed them, trimmed their nails. She sent updates on their well-being and still managed to hold onto her patience when Louie did stupid things. He destroyed a lamp. Whoops. And locked her out of the house. Double-whoops. And when we'd finally come back home, the dogs and cats would look at us like, "What? Did you go somewhere?"

Along came Drew. Drew loved Mary, and Drew fell in love with Scooter, too. Big changes were afoot. He found a new job very far away. He asked Mary to be his wife. She said yes, and they quickly planned a move.

So, Drew and Mary had each other, but there was still the issue of Scooter. Drew loved Scooter with a capital L-U-V. Mary decided that Scoot would be the perfect Christmas present for Drew, so she submitted the adoption application. It took awhile for the application to get where it needed to go, but finally, it was approved! A home visit was scheduled...and then canceled. Scooter's vet found a tumor that needed to be removed.

A surgery was schedule, and the tumor, removed. Benign! Hooray! Long recovery time...BOO! And finally, finally, FINALLY the home visit was rescheduled.

It went well.

Very well.

Yup. I choose you.

As I type this, Scooter is on her way to Ohio. I have no doubt that she spent 14 months with us waiting for Mary and Drew. And if we had to take care of her for 14 months to get her to her perfect home, then it was well worth it.

Merry Christmas, Scoot. And Merry Christmas, Mary & Drew!

I've created a snuggling monster.

2009-04-21T12:23:00.011-04:00

I know you were sitting here all comfy on the couch, but you looked like you needed a dog.

Please let me stay. Puuullllleeeasssee??

It's so comfy, my tongue has forgotten how to work.

Seriously. I'll love you...for like...ever.

And in THIS corner, we have SCOOTER. Let's have a clean fight!

2009-04-18T08:01:00.002-04:00

(Sorry for the grainyness--this was taken with a camera phone.)

Louie is very concerned about the puppy in the computer.

2009-04-15T20:54:00.005-04:00

Louie is very concerned about this Corgi puppy we found on youtube. No, it's not behind the couch. Or between the sofa cushions. Maybe if I crawl in mom's lap, she'll make it all better.

Pizza=Yum

2009-04-14T11:26:00.005-04:00

Scooter was a dream before Louie showed up. Now, they constantly teach each other new ways to get into mischief. This week, they've discovered counter surfing. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, this refers to a dog's desire to search out any available food on the kitchen counter.

My last dog was a pro--he could sniff out food from many rooms away. However, the new house has high, slippery granite countertops. Scooter and Louie, until fairly recently, have been rather blissfully unaware of the treats that sometimes perch just out of their reach.

Yesterday, a foster mom (who shall remain nameless) cooked a delicious pizza topped with artichokes, mushrooms, and cheese. She left said pizza on the countertop to cool. An unknown amount of time later, she returned to the kitchen to find the counter--empty! Foster mom works nights and sometimes does silly things like putting metal in the microwave, so she wondered for a minute if she'd put the leftovers into the refrigerator. No...no, she definitely didn't do that.

After a minute, Scooter slinked back into the kitchen and did her trademark, submissive, I've-been-naughty roll over onto her back. The telltale remnants of pizza were blobbed on the lower cabinets, and Scooter spent the rest of the evening licking up invisible crumbs from that corner of the kitchen. It should go without saying that Louie also participated in this mischief-making. However, he clearly doesn't have the conscience with which Scooter is possessed and would be perfectly happy to steal pizza any day.

This morning, I washed some lettuce and left it out to dry. I don't function on a high level in the mornings, but I'm pretty sure that, when I returned from getting dressed, approximately half of my lettuce was missing. Scooter, conveniently, was resting on the floor immediately below the spot where the lettuce was originally located.

Seriously, guys. Pizza, I understand. But lettuce??

A new adventure

2009-04-13T09:27:00.005-04:00

Louie and Scooter met horses yesterday for the first time. Scooter was veeeryy brave and sniffed one of the horses very respectfully. Her little legs shook, but I was very proud of her.

Louie stared at the animals and then threw up his breakfast. He never would get closer than 3 feet away. Embarrassing.

Needless to say, everyone's pooped after our big exciting weekend. I wish we all got to nap the day away, but somebody has to put food in the bowls.

Yikes! Have we fallen off the face of the earth??

2009-04-02T10:08:00.012-04:00

No! We've been busy (and lazy) and taking lots of pictures (but not posting them) and video (but with the camera turned the wrong way because I'm a poor excuse for a videographer). Meanwhile, we've gotten to know Scooter really well since late-October, so on that note, here are the things I can tell you for sure about this pup.

1. She is the most laid-back dog ever. She's definitely not the wired, go-go-go Australian Shepherd. If it weren't for the fact that she sometimes gets right under your feet, I'd say she'd be great with an older person.

2. Early to bed; late to rise. Scooter puts herself to bed around 8:30 each night. She can usually be found sleeping in a dark, quiet corner of the office. Unless we've taken him on a long run, the young whippersnapper makes it hard to get any peace. The office is the perfect refuge for Miss Sleepyhead.

3. Scooter also answers to "Scoot," "Scooterrooney", "Scooter Poot" (don't ask), and "Scootey".

4. Scooter is great with kids. We've experimented on one particular 5-year-old several times. Scoot doesn't jump or really even "herd." The 5-year-old thinks she's great because Scooter is really easy to boss around. I think Scoot would be a primo addition to a family with children (no babies--she's a big enough baby for any family).

5. Hates the rain. Absolutely, positively. Scooter would prefer not to be home without any humans when that happens, but as long as she's not locked up in the kennel, all is well. That's right--shutting the dogs in the office maintains peace and a clean home while we're gone, but locking Scooter in her kennel when it's raining means possible destruction of the crate. Oh well...

6. Scooter wasn't too sure about other dogs at first, but she's been great with Louie, her foster brother. I have to say, he's a ginormous (oh yeah, that's a real word) pest, and she will let him know when he crosses the line. However, I have to say, she's remarkably tolerant of him. She's also spent some time with a friend's VERY rowdy dogs, one of whom is quite a bit bigger than Scoot. She's not a rough-houser with strange dogs, and in fact, actively tries not to interact with them. She's a little bit of a loner and would prefer to play ball one-on-one with a two-legged type. Scoot and Louie usually have at least one good wrestle a day, though.

7. Scooter was meant to be a bed/couch dog. I have never been one to let my dogs on the furniture. They're furry and they shed. And they have dirty paws. Nevertheless, someone else in the house has other ideas, and I have to say, Scoot has really taken a shine to both the couch and the bed. She is an uber-snuggler. Some nights, she'll come over and lean on my leg while staring up at me longingly. It's hard not to give in once in awhile. Of course, Louie can't be left out, and that usually results in me looking for another place to sit.

8. Scooter loves the car. That's "love" with an L-U-V, too. Loves to go for car rides, is perfectly patient on long trips, stays in the back-back without trying to climb in the front like her little foster brother. In fact, she had a romp around the yard the other day. While I chased after her, she was nabbed by a neighbor when she jumped in his car. She got quite the scolding, but it's hard not to laugh at a dog who will give up freedom for the chance to go for a ride.

9. Scooter loves people more than anything on the face of the earth. Well...and petting. People and petting. Maybe she only likes people because they have hands and can pet. I don't know. She doesn't say. So while Scoot would get along well in a house with another dog or cats or kids or couples, as long as you're at least one single human being (and most of us are), she'll be happy.

(FYI--this is why I usually have to find a new place to sit.)

You must start off every morning with a good wrestle.

2009-02-06T11:19:00.002-05:00

Let's try this again...

2009-01-20T10:59:00.019-05:00

Call me a sucker, but I've adopted a new 10-month-puppy. Meet Louie. The kitties aren't too sure about their new dog brother, but they appreciate his obvious respect for cats and their hissing. Sorry, peeps, but Louie is here to stay and is not available for adoption. I just couldn't resist sharing the photos and the fact that Scootie would be most thrilled to have a doggie brother or sister.

Louie loves food, going outside, constant love and attention, and...well...everything. Every blessed thing that happens during the day elicits unbridled puppy joy.

He loves being underfoot...

...and helps cook dinner.

Scooter harasses him constantly.

I think she's in LUV.

Potential Frisbee Champ

2009-01-19T11:11:00.004-05:00

Recorded live from Charleston, SC, it's Scooter's frisbee debut! This video comes with several caveats:

1. I can't throw.

2. It was windy.

3. This is Scooter's 2nd day playing with a frisbee. Ever.

4. We'd already played for 30 minutes before it occurred to me to video the fun.

SO, without further adieu, I present Scooter, frisbee dog extraordinaire. Or something semi-close to that, anyway.

We've welcomed the new year...

2009-01-04T11:50:00.005-05:00

...and Scooter seems to think there are new rules in the house. I woke up this morning at 6:30 because grumpy tabby had no food in her bowl. She was dancing on me (or, at least, that's what it felt like), and I decided it would be easier to refill the bowl than try to ignore her.

I walked into the living room to find Scooter sleeping peacefully...on the couch. I apologize that I have no pictures, but really--it was 6:30 a.m. She started awake when she realized I was standing there, like a kid who had been busted by her parent in the middle of some gross misbehavior.

"Scooter, down!"

No movement, though. Not a budge.

I approached the couch. She replied with a very submissive rollover. I reached for her collar, and she went absolutely limp. Again, just like the kid who's in the middle of a tantrum, wants to stay in one place while his parent is dragging him out to leave.

And that's what I did. Dragged her right off the couch and baby-gated her in the office. Poor Scooter. She only has wall-to-wall carpeting and a plushy dog bed. Life is rough.

So, we'll chalk this up as one more adorable character trait for Scooter. She would love, love, LOVE to be allowed on the couch and the bed. I think she'd particularly love sleeping with her people. I ere on the side of caution with my foster dogs, though. While I've been known to allow my own dog to sleep with me, I have to imagine some people don't relish the idea of a 40-pound fuzzball snuggled up to them every night. So, until Scooter finds some people who AREN'T opposed to snuggling, she is banished from the bed. And the couch.

Scooter's First Christmas Present (or "Why Scooter isn't allowed to have a lot of squishy toys")

2008-12-22T09:54:00.007-05:00

Scooter's Auntie Robin sent her a special Christmas package!

Among the holiday goodness was this pink, plush, smiling...er...guitar(?).

She was very excited but waited ever-so-patiently for her prize.

She got to work immediately....

...and this is what she produced five minutes later.

Oh, Scooty...it's hard work being such a rotten dog.

Scooter's Letter to Santa

2008-12-08T15:15:00.011-05:00

Dear Santa,

It's been a very exciting year for me. My old family dropped me off at a shelter. A lady came to pick me up after I had been there awhile. We drove a long, long way. Santa, I'm not crazy about cars, but I did my best to behave myself.

Just so you don't deliver my presents to my old place, you should know I'm living with this other lady now. She says she's my foster mom. She's really bossy. All day long, it's "Scooter, don't chase the cats!" and "Scooter, stop eating those fireplace rocks!" But her house is warm, and she gives me plenty of food. She says I'm a little stinky, but she pets me anyway.

Santa, I'm trying my best. I KNOW I'm not supposed to get on the couch, but...well...it makes me taller and I can see more stuff. And I KNOW I'm not supposed to eat the ornaments off the tree, but they look like little toys. Cat food is yum, yum, yum--why can't I have some of that?

I know I'm not perfect, but who is? I'm the sweetest, most loving pup I can be 99% of the time. If that 1% is enough to put me on the naughty list, well...I'll try harder next year.

Love,

Scooter

P.S. My foster mom said I should send my letter anyhow. You know....just in case I've been good enough. I've included photos of my most wished-for presents. Foster mom says I'm probably overestimating your generosity and disposable income but...a girl can dream, right?

P.P.S. When you stop by the house, I'd really like to play with the reindeer for a minute. They look like they'd be good for a romp down the street.

(from left to right) Eco-green dog collars from Harry Barker; Santa Dog toy from Harry Barker; Good dog gift bucket from Harry Barker; Elton the Octopus rope toy from The Modern Dog; Therapy dog treats from Harry Barker

"Good dog" designer bowl from Harry Barker; Holden Designs pet feeders from Design Public; k Studio dog pillow in black from Design Public; William Wegman pet bed by Crypton at Design Public

Happy Thanksgiving! Now, where's that turkey you promised me?

2008-11-27T10:13:00.005-05:00

I hate to break it to you, Scoot, but I'm a vegetarian.

Hope all of you guys are having a great Thanksgiving, turkey or not!

We take a break from our regularly scheduled programming...

2008-11-26T09:11:00.010-05:00

It's the Kitty Half-time Show!

Guinevere has a new halter and leash.

She thinks it's the greatest thing EVER.

I think she would walk outside for hours.

But, eventually, you have to go inside and nap.

The cuteness of the whole thing totally outweighs any embarrassment that I'm walking my cat, outside and on a leash. Also, she now screams at the back door until you hook her up and take her outside. To get any peace at all, we've now resorted to multiple trips outside every day.

A mathematical formula (sort of)

2008-11-24T16:01:00.005-05:00

Dog food + cat food = really bad gas for Scooter.

What can I say? She's sneaky, and she keeps scarfing the forbidden kitty goodness (not to be confused with some other kitty goodness, with which we haven't yet had a problem).

Quote from an innocent bystander: "I had to move myself to another room!"

Playing Catch-Up

2008-11-23T11:28:00.007-05:00

I admit it--I'm a slacker. In actuality, the camera was in a different city from me, so that made updating the blog a little difficult. Let's rewind a bit:

Scooter got fixed--yay! She came home drunk.

I know--pretty pathetic.

She curled up in a ball and, for the most part,

didn't move for the rest of the day.

Scooter played her first game of ball last Saturday.

Turns out, playing ball is pretty fun

(once you figure out how to pick it up with your nonexistent front teeth).

Surprisingly, she actually brings the ball back to you after you throw it.

Whew! Time for a nap!

Vacation!

2008-11-15T09:39:00.005-05:00

Well...sort of a vacation. Scooter is on her first trip to Charleston and has behaved relatively well thus far. If anyone deserves a vacation this week, it's her. The little trip to the Humane Society to get spayed went relatively well. Though she acted drunk for the remainder of the day, she was almost as good as new by morning.

Thursday night (or in the wee hours of Friday morning, I should say), Scooter decided to try her hand at being an escape artist and let herself out of her crate. It wasn't that difficult--only half of the door was latched, so she just slid right out.

So, I bolted awake around 4:30 a.m. to the sound of toenails on the hardwood floor. It took about 20 minutes to get her settled down, and then a thunderstorm passed through. Sigh. She actually did fairly well with that, though. I, however, was worn out by the time my alarm went off at 7 a.m.

Just look at that face. She doesn't look like a trouble-maker, does she?

Beauty Parlor

2008-11-11T15:37:00.004-05:00

I have a pretty high tolerance for "dog stink," but I decided on Sunday that Scooter had passed my threshold. I couldn't seem to find any appropriate doggie shampoo, so I was forced to use a little bottle of Bath & Body Works Coconut Lime Verbena. It was a speedy bath conducted with a garden hose on the front lawn (the indignity!). I have to say, the girl smells pretty spiffy right now. We also had a little trim around the ears, but she got squirmy and...well...only one ear got trimmed. Luckily, her fur is a little fluffy from the volumizing shampoo, so it's not that noticeable.

Scooter must have been pretty exhausted after all that.

She passed out.

She's still alive. I promise.

Next on the "To do" list is a trip to the vet tomorrow. That's right, ladies and gentlemen--Scooter is getting spayed. Woohoo! She may not be happy about it, but I'm overjoyed.

Wish us luck!

Misbehavin'

2008-11-10T12:20:00.008-05:00

One more habit we've failed to break. Scooter likes the couch. Actually, I think she suffers from the common former-outside-dog problem I like to refer to as the "So what? It's just furniture. syndrome." The couch is just another piece of ground, as far as Scooter is concerned. We sit on it, and she wants to sit with us. Why on earth would you not just climb up in someone's lap when there is one readily available?

Because we don't like it. That's why.

It's not that Scooter has muddy paws. She's really pretty clean.

The problem is she wants to lick you do death. Blech.

Torturing Scooter

2008-11-07T14:38:00.005-05:00

I know--it looks like something from a horror flick. There's some debate over the humane-ness of using a prong collar, but after seeing it used successfully on a couple dogs, I have to admit to being a fan.

Scooter is just not great on the leash. Worse than "not great". I think she'd drag me to California and back if I let her. The prong collar, though, slips easily over her head and--as if by magic--makes her a primo companion at the Riverwalk.

There are a few caveats to making this a successful training tool:

1. Fit--You don't want it too loose, and you definitely don't want it too tight. If you're unsure of proper fit, you need to consult a professional.

2. Use--The dog should be able to figure out quickly how to walk with a loose leash. If she begins to pull, one quick, light tug by you should be enough to stop her. In no way is this collar meant to exert a constant pressure or, worse, pinching.

3. Properly trained humans equal a properly trained dog--If you don't know much about obedience training or are working with an unfamiliar dog, I'd recommend you consult a professional. Heck, I think all people should go through obedience training with their dog. Most people are under the impression that the purpose of the class is to train the dog. It's not. It's to train you. People in the Columbia area can try Thoughtful Paws to learn about positive reinforcement training. I took their class three times (slow learner, I guess) and loved it. Other training resources can be found here.

I've got to say, walking Scooter is a WHOLE lot more enjoyable now!

Sad news

2008-11-04T21:17:00.003-05:00

I bet you thought I'd abandoned my animal photos and tales (tails?). I have to admit to being distracted last week and, unfortunately, it's because our household was dealing with an animal disaster.

I would be remiss if I never mentioned the cats in my stories about Scooter. They are as much a part of her daily life as napping and and turkey treats. In particular, Scooter took quite a liking to Todd. I posted photo updates with a Toddy cameo here and here.

Todd was an indoor/outdoor kitty. He was very vocal when he decided he was on the wrong side of the door, and he seemed very happy with his new surroundings. Unfortunately, Toddy went missing last Monday afternoon. We posted fliers and an ad on craigslist. Finally, on Thursday, we discovered Toddy's body in a secluded area near the house. We don't know for sure but suspect that he was attacked by neighborhood dogs.

Todd was the best animal in the house. I can say this with a clear conscience because none of the other three can read. Truly, he was on of the sweetest cats I've ever known. He will be greatly missed.

So that's my update and my excuse for a week of no posts. I'll be back with plenty of photos and stories in no time. Until then, cheers Toddy--you were the cutest (if not the pudgiest) fluffball, and I'll miss your spooning me at night.

Things have just gone crazy around here...

2008-10-23T20:05:00.007-04:00

Maybe it's just the chill in the air and the toastiness of the house, but I really think some sort of sleeping sickness has invaded the place today.

I know--this is a cat. Sorry about that.

Another cat. No, she's not dead.

It's even affected Scooter. Also not dead.

Close-up of the tongue. Ridiculous. Calm down, Scooter.

Report Card: Week 1

2008-10-21T10:01:00.012-04:00

Scooter showed up knowing how to sit on command and already crate-trained. I don't know if we can credit any previous owners for that last one--she could just be that agreeable and eager-to-please. Here are some things Scooter has learned this week that she wasn't exactly clear on at first arrival.

Eating cat food is a no-no.

It's salty, crunchy, delicious, and absolutely forbidden.

Don't lick dishes, particularly clean ones

still sitting in the dishwasher.

And DON'T chase cats, particularly the grumpy tabby.

It's fun to help foster mom cook, but she may accidentally drop

sauteed onions in your fur if you sit to close to the stove.

"Get on your bed!" means get the heck on your bed.

And it's sooooo comfy, why would you not?

Drum roll, please!

2008-10-17T15:07:00.004-04:00

As much as I hate to admit it, I think it's official--the pup has a name. The reason for my reluctance? The name is "Scooter," and it makes her the misfit among most of my other animals, past and present. Loki, Merlin, Guinevere--see a pattern? Even the ones who didn't fall into that category had cute names (Bailey, Sophie). Now, I totally think the name "Scooter" is cute, it's just cuteness on a different level.

Scooter is perking up and...well...she's scooting. She scoots all over the yard on her potty breaks and scoots all over the house in search of a cat to play with. I still wouldn't categorize her as hyper, though, since the scooting only last a brief while before she lets loose a big yawn and has to nap.

NoName vs. the crate

2008-10-16T13:20:00.005-04:00

Crate training can sometimes be a hurdle for rescue dogs. Maybe it reminds them of the shelter--I don't know. However, to say that NoName is "crate trained" really doesn't cut it.

"Crate JOY" might be a better term.

I think this relationship is a little inappropriate.

2008-10-15T13:32:00.006-04:00

NoName and the cat love each other.

They've been hanging out together in the kitchen for hours.

Scandalous!

Introducing No Name #1

2008-10-14T11:50:00.007-04:00

This pup was dropped off at a shelter for being "too hyper". In anticipation of that, we went on a quick run before we even let her into the house. She was so "hyper," that she immediately laid down for a nap...

...on the lamp.

She woke up briefly to eat dinner and taste the kitty...

...and then went right back to bed for another snooze.

Despite her odd choice of comfortable sleeping positions, we think her hyper self will fit in just fine at our house. Stay tuned for her new name--I'll announce it as soon as we come up with something!

Here we go again...

2008-10-09T19:55:00.002-04:00

When I tell people I work with a dog rescue group, I usually first get a look somewhere along the lines of starry admiration. Anyone who has ever owned a pet is appalled by the idea that an animal could be mistreated or abandoned. It's a relief to know that, even in the most pitiful of cases, there is hope for all such animals.

This look of admiration often changes to confusion when I tell them that part of my work includes driving random dogs from Point A to Point B in an effort to get them to a new foster or adoptive home. This means several hours of my weekend can involve driving dogs around the state. Sickly little puppies who need special care? Yup. Super stinky shelter dogs who haven't had a bath in years? Check. Dogs prone to carsickness? Oh yeah.

Another major part of working with rescue dogs is taking care of them until they find their new homes. What?? You thought all animal rescue organizations had fancy shelters that house our little orphans? In a way, I suppose we DO have fancy shelters. They are our own homes, and we are foster families.

It's at this point in the "all-about-dog-rescue" conversation when the person's face may register disbelief. Most of them immediately counter with, "Wow--I couldn't do that." And maybe they couldn't. I've had dogs who were afraid of men, dogs who had no training at all, dogs who wet the floor, dogs with heartworms, and dogs who destroyed parts of my home. I've had a couple dogs I fell madly in love with and cried for days after they were adopted. Truly, fostering has taken me through the highs and lows of dog ownership. It's also been the singularly most rewarding experience of my life. You would be surprised at just what you CAN do to impact the life of a dog and the lives of the people who eventually adopt him.

I became involved in rescuing dogs 6 years ago. Our young dog was hyper to the wildest degree, and having a second dog turned out to be, in most instances, easier than trying to entertain the wild beast on our own. The two dogs would spend the day out in the yard running, wrestling, and generally getting into God-knows-what. We'd finally found a way to come home and relax without needing to immediately burn off the pent-up energy of our own dog.

Bailey was my very first foster dog. I've never had a dog that smelled as bad as when he first arrived from the shelter. He found his forever home in Bristish Columbia.

Sophie was adopted by a couple in Knoxville, TN. She became certified as a therapy dog, did a little agility, and often represents ARPH at different animal-related events.

Next came Paige (easily my favorite, she went to a horse farm in Vermont), Chelsea (didn't like men; only liked me), and Merlin (heartworm positive with a host of behavioral issues, to put it nicely). We loved them all, but changes in my life eventually made it impossible for me to continue taking in foster dogs. Until now.

It's been several years, but the purchase of a new home (oh please don't pee on my floors!) and the proximity of great walking trails make this a prime place for dogs. An email appeared in my inbox last Thursday saying an Australian Shepherd was scheduled to be put to sleep the very next day, and would I consider fostering her. Who can say "no" to that?

She'll be here in two days--foster dog #1 (part 2). She has no name, and all I have are a few crummy photos (it's hard to make a dog look cute in a shelter). Word on the street is she doesn't do well on a leash, but that's not unusual. Here's hoping she has no interest in her three kitty foster siblings!

-L