"Being different is one of the most beautiful things on earth."

First of all, do you remember that family that loved Audrey so much?  Well, they adopted her!  She's doing great with her new people and new doggie brother!  When I saw them with her, I could just tell that they were her future forever home!

It wasn't long after Audrey's adoption that another special Hound mix came into my life.  She wasn't shy like Audrey, but she had recently had her front leg amputated.  She was found as a malnourished stray... dragging her bum leg along... and entertaining four pups of her own.  Paws of Hertford County in Ahoskie, NC took Lucille into their shelter and got her the medical attention she so desperately needed.  Her four puppies were quickly adopted... but Lucille still needed surgery to have her bum leg amputated... and, of course, to be spayed!  In the midst of all of this, Lucille also tested positive for two tick-born illnesses!  Those are a quick fix with some medication... and she was fortunate that she wasn't heart worm positive!

It's kind of funny how Lucille ended up as my foster.  She originally was meant to be a temporary guest while I kept an eye on her incision site after the amputation surgery.  I wasn't even sure if I wanted to keep her as a foster at first!  At first glance, it appeared as if she wasn't going to get along with my other female, Lyla.  Come to find, Lucille doesn't like face to face greetings.  It makes her uncomfortable and defensive.  After all she's been through... can you blame her?  Within the week, she settled in at my house and with my pack.  I even took her to work with me to the vet office and used the healing laser on her incision site.  It healed up wonderfully, and we were able to remove the stitches about 14 days after the surgery.  Lucky for me, I've got amazing bosses and amazing co-workers who are willing to lend their expertise and a helping hand when it comes to my foster dogs!

In the end, we decided not to stress Lucille out by moving her again to a different foster home... and left her with me.  She's doing amazingly well... and does great with my dogs and my cats.  She sleeps contently in her crate while I'm at work and at night when I'm asleep.  Lucille even walks well on a leash!  She doesn't have accidents in the house either!  She's truly been a joy to have.  She's adjusted extremely well to only having three legs.  Honestly, I'm sure the bum leg was a nuisance, and she was happy to get rid of it!

I've had her for almost a month now, and I'm honestly shocked that nobody has adopted her yet.  She's a good dog - a trooper - and super beautiful with her gorgeous eyes and sweet demeanor!  She certainly doesn't let the fact that she has three legs slow her down.  However, I continue to live by the fact that true love will happen when it's meant to.  I know Lucille's forever family is right around the corner...

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."

I'm 10 days shy of 2 months with Audrey, and I'm very happy with the progress she's made!  She's really blossomed into a great dog!  For such a fearful girl, she's been extremely tolerant and sweet.  Audrey sleeps in the bed with me and the other dogs, hangs out on the couch with me, plays great with the dogs out in the yard, and pretty much mimics everything her canine friends do.  They've really taught her a lot!  I'd like to credit myself... but it's my dogs who have done most of the work in teaching her how to be a great companion for a family.

She had a meet-and-greet with a family a couple weeks ago and really surprised me in how well she did.  She was totally out of her element... but wanted so badly to meet these two people.  Audrey would walk into the living room where we were sitting, then dart away.  Rinse and repeat.  Eventually, though, Audrey walked in and lied down and fell asleep next to them.  She wants, so badly, to be a part of the family - but she's just not sure what to expect.  Who knows what happened to her in her youth.  We really have no idea what caused her to be so fearful - whether it was being left alone and the lack of socialization or the possibility of someone hurting her in the past.  But... Audrey is learning... and she has come such a long way in a short amount of time.  That particular family decided against adopting Audrey... simply because she's probably going to take a little extra work.

However, Audrey went to her first adoption event this last Sunday... and a couple people had inquired about her the previous day.  I arrived at Petco a few minutes earlier to let Audrey get settled and walk around the store.  Apart from going to a couple unfamiliar places, Audrey hadn't been anywhere like Petco before.  She walked on a leash and did pretty well walking through the store.  She never ceases to amaze me!  The first family who came in to visit Audrey loved her for who she was.  They weren't concerned with the fact that Audrey wasn't interacting with them.  They understood that she was scared... and took our word that she's totally different in an environment in which she's comfortable.  They put an application in on her and have since set up a meet-and-greet with Audrey.

I know this might sound ridiculous, but I think they might be it.  Audrey has been acting differently since she met them.  She's been more outgoing at home and extremely lovey dovey.  She wants to sleep right next to me... and is constantly going in for kisses from me.  Fingers crossed that these people are Audrey's forever family!  It's nice that some people can see through the shyness and believe that there's a totally different dog in there.  Good people are out there!  I hate to get too excited... because you never know what's going to happen... but we'll see!

"The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say."

Long time, no see.  I've been suffering from writer's block, I suppose, because writing is one of my favorite things to do - especially writing about dogs.  I actually typed a post up a few days ago... and deleted it.  So... here I am...

I totally skipped a chapter of the "Foster Dog Diaries" when I failed to write about Boris, my last foster, and all of my experiences with him.  Perhaps I didn't write because he was one of my most difficult fosters... that happened to come at a time in my life that was fairly new and busy.  You see, around the same time Boris came into my life, I started a new job at vet hospital as a vet assistant/kennel caretaker.  I've never worked at a vet before... so I had a lot to learn!  I STILL have a lot to learn.  But... that's irrelevant.  Boris was a good dog - obedience trained, crate trained, good on a leash, etc.  However, Boris didn't really know how to act around other dogs.  He got on well with Brody and Lyla at first... but he and Jackson butted heads quite often.  I really had to keep an eye on those two.  After a couple weeks, though, Brody and Lyla decided that they didn't really want to tolerate Boris as much as they had at first.  This made life a little bit difficult for all of us.  Lyla's used to having a playmate... and she started to act out when Boris didn't suffice as such.  We stuck it out, though, and Boris eventually found his forever family.  While it was difficult, I'm glad that I was a part of helping him find his perfect family.  He really is a good dog... but Mr. Boris certainly seemed to prefer being an only dog.

Once Boris was adopted, I spent a few weeks without a foster.  Lyla was going crazy without a playmate!  So was I!  But... K9 Justice League had it all planned out.  We were headed down to Paws of Hertford County in North Carolina on January 31st to pull a handful of dogs to bring back home to Virginia for the open foster families of the rescue.  I eagerly awaited the day that I'd meet my new foster!

Of course, I scoured the website day and night to see which dog I might just want to pick.  But... you know how that goes.  You pick one and end up with another!  We made the trip early in the morning and were greeted by the amazing volunteers of PAWS who we have come to know and love.  They are truly amazing people... who work hard and give these animals love when nobody else will.  Talk about a small shelter rising above the rest!  They have done a fantastic job getting the word out about their dogs and cats!  I really adore them.

Once we got to the shelter, we went to work.  My eyes were peeled for my new foster... and Jessica and Tiffany worked hard to pick dogs that matched up well with the available foster families.  Of course, I wanted the dog least likely to be adopted.  There were two shy dogs, Florence and Olivia.  Florence had been in a home for a trial... but do to her extreme shyness, it didn't work out.  I adored both of them from the start... but Florence showed the most potential... so that's who I left with.  We left with a total of 11 dogs.  Ten went into the rescue, and one was transported to a breed rescue.  We renamed my foster dog.  Her name is now Audrey.  The first day was rough.  She was so scared that she would barely move.  While she was petrified, she wasn't aggressive at all.  I could pick her up and pet her... although she really didn't enjoy it!  She curled up in a ball and was like a statue while my three dogs greeted her.  When she came home with me, I don't think she was expecting to be in a house with a whole pack of dogs!  And that's what will save her.  My dogs have already helped her in so many ways... and they are doing their job by showing her that humans give food, affection, and playtime.  It's going to be a long road... but she's already made a lot of progress.  I can't wait to see what the future holds for Audrey's life.

Peace, Love, and Paw Prints

"As we move through life, the force of fate creates events that we only appreciate when we reflect on our existence."

Every now and then, THAT foster dog comes along.  You know?  The one that you just can't stand to let go?  Most people... who have never fostered... are probably thinking that EVERY foster dog is THAT dog.  But when you've fostered... you begin to understand.  Most fosters... you CAN let go... because the need to allow yourself to foster another - to save another life - are much stronger than the need to adopt that most recent addition.  It is when you get the dogs that connect with YOUR dogs that are the hardest to let go.  As a foster mom, I'm often sad about letting them go... but at the same time, I'm so happy that I was able to be a part of their journey in finding their forever homes.  But when my dogs fall head over paws over one of my fosters, it makes me feel terribly sad to let them go.  As human beings, we often think about ourselves - and how bringing a dog into our lives affects us - and how letting them go is such a bittersweet moment.  But what about our own dogs?  How does it affect them?

Each foster dog that enters my home affects my own dogs differently.  As the old man of the family, Jackson takes the longest to warm up to the newcomers.  Brody - well - he wags his tail and introduces himself for a minute... before getting distracted by a toy... inevitably something to fetch... and ends up not caring that much about the newcomer.  Lyla, my foster failure dog, tends to be more interested than anyone.  She throws herself at the newcomer and is more excited than ever!

Well, this time, Lyla fell in love with a foster that I only have for a few days.  His original foster family was going out of town... and needed someone to keep an eye on him.  So here I am.  Brody, Jackson, Lyla... and cats... and all.  Oddly enough, even Jackson doesn't seem to mind Harley.  Brody likes him... and even shares his toys.  Lyla... on the other hand... has fallen in love with him.  They just adore each other!

But... sometimes... life gets in the way of fate.  While all signs point to the fact that Harley belongs in my family... my living situation points elsewhere.  What a shame... because I know for a fact that Lyla is going to miss her "baby" more than anything!

Sometimes... you just have to laugh.

If you’ve ever had a dog before, you know that something is bound to get destroyed at some point.  I can’t even begin to count how many pillows and comforter sets Brody annihilated.  Fortunately for me, while the “little things” have been absolutely chewed up or ripped to pieces, I haven’t lost a couch or the blinds or anything of that extent yet.  But, hey, I am only twenty-five.  I’ve got many years ahead of me... in which I’m sure to acquire one of those problem dogs that gets so freaked out that eating the couch is the only way to make it better.

My biggest loss was when Benji was living with me.  Benji didn’t have a great upbringing, so it only seemed fair that he became anxious when I left him alone in the house with the other dogs.  Due to sheer stupidity, I sometimes forgot to shut the door to my bedroom.  I came home one day to find the power cord to my Mac chewed up into tiny pieces.  Let me also mention that I was struggling to pay for anything at the time... as well as the fact that I’m such an internet addict that the thought of my laptop’s battery dying before the new power cord arrived nearly killed me.  I was irate... but what good would yelling do now?  Oh... and let’s not forget to mention that ANYTHING Mac is pricey!  I immediately ordered a new power cord and crossed my fingers that it would arrive before my laptop died.  I swear that I practically proposed to the UPS delivery man when my new power cord arrived just in the knick of time!  I think I had 17% battery life left... or something close.

On top of that, there were plenty of times the three stooges (Benji, Brody, and Meaty) would just get a little too excited and go crazy on whatever they could find.  I remember coming home one time to find that the dogs had gotten into a  container of powdered chocolate milk... which had been spread so kindly all over the carpet in my bedroom.

I’ve come home countless times to find shredded toilet paper rolls or paper towel rolls.  Brody got into the habit of taking anything I left in the sink out while I was gone.  After going through puppyhood with quite a few puppies, I’ve even noticed some teethmarks in my coffee table.

My three dogs seem to have finally settled into their own.  I leave the house, and they sleep.  There are foster dogs floating in and out, too, but I usually crate them while I’m gone.  I’ve learned to block off the carpeted rooms.  I’ve learned not to leave anything in the sink.  I’ve learned to put everything away... unless I want to come home and pick up the 3 million remnants of whatever it was that left out.  Cords are all out of reach, too!  When you have free-roaming dogs, you learn to adjust.  I’ve come to the realization that dogs are dogs, and you can’t expect them to always be perfect.  Our intelligence level is much higher - though I doubt that often - so it’s kind of our job to either crate the dogs or learn to pick up and keep what you want safe out of reach.

The creation of this entry was sparked by last night’s events.  It’s my “birthday weekend” right now, so the last few days have been pretty busy.  I haven’t spent as much time with the dogs as I normally do.  Apparently yesterday was the tipping point for the dogs.  Not only had I been out late the night before, but I also had to leave for a horse show in the morning on Saturday.  I left around 9:30AM and was gone much longer than I had expected.  I got home at about 5:00PM.  Since I don’t have a job, my dogs really aren’t used to me being gone that long.  I finally returned home and got to spend a mere half hour with the dogs before it was time to leave again.  Since I didn’t have much time... and had to get ready for a party... I decided against feeding them dinner a little early... and just feeding them later.  Little did I know... I wouldn’t be getting home until about 10:30PM.  Poor Bentley had been in his crate nearly all day... and I was sure that my poor dogs were simply starving at that point!  When I finally returned home and opened the door, I was greeted by antsy dogs and a living room FULL of white fluff.  The pillow that I always leave on the couch had been murdered.  It looked like it had snowed in my living room!  That pillow has been sitting on that couch for months, and they’ve never touched it.  But... I suppose that was their way of saying, “Mom, you totally neglected us today.  Not cool.”  Running on a couple hours of sleep in the last 48 hours, the last thing I wanted to do was come home to clean up the innards of my pillow.  All I wanted to do was let the dogs out, feed them, let them out once more, then go the hell to bed!  But that wasn’t the case.

I wasn’t mad, though.  I was more amused by the fact that that seemed to be their way of saying, “TAKE THAT!  You left us all day AND haven’t freakin’ fed us yet!  Mommy’s pillow must die!”  I walked into my house full of cotton snow and simply couldn’t help from laughing.  With dogs, those sorts of things are going to happen every once in a while.  There’s no use in getting mad.  Technically... it’s your fault.  You should have put your stuff away! 

Sometimes... you just have to laugh.

Tied Down

With my impending birthday weekend... in which I’ll be celebrating my 25th year on this earth... I’ve run into a problem.  Well, it’s not that much of a problem for me as it seems to be for others.  Not to mention the quarter life crisis that is sure to come, I feel like I need to discuss something that I hear more often than I’d like to.  That question... phrase... whatever... is: Don’t you hate being tied down by all of those animals?

The blatant answer to that question is... ABSOLUTELY NOT!  “You should really stop fostering...” and “You need to get rid of some of those animals.  You can never do anything...” are the forbidden sentences to cross my path this week.

Yes, having these animal companions in my house does keep me from going places or staying out too long.  Preparing for vacation is almost so stressful that it’s not worth ever leaving.  Let’s not forget to mention that hiring pet-sitters or finding a good place to board is practically as expensive as vacation is.The more I thought about sacrificing vacations and time spent out, the more I realized that I prefer to be “tied down” opposed to having that freedom.  I’m a homebody.  I like coming home to my animals.  I’d much rather spend an evening huddled up on the couch with my dogs than I would out drinking with friends.  It’s not that I don’t love my friends as much as my animals.  That’s not it at all.  I just prefer to relax at home surrounded by my dogs and cats.  Ever since I was a child, I had to have my “quiet time” away from the hustle of life.  I’d spend hours upstairs in the playroom with my animal toys... making them talk to each other and embark on incredible adventures.  I still need my “quiet time” and always have.  That’s just me.

I like going home to tend to my animals.  I’m not angry that I can’t stay out too long or go on vacations.  I have responsibilities to take care of.  While you might think I’m tied down, I feel the opposite.  I’m freer than most of you will ever be.

So for those who understand where I’m coming from, we’ll keep our little secret.  When we say, “I’m sorry, I can’t stay much longer.  I have to get home and feed the dogs...”, I won’t roll my eyes and wonder why you “tie yourself down” with all of those pets.  I get it.  I’m glad that I have dogs... because I love them, and they enrich my life.  But... on top of that... I’m glad I have dogs... because if gives me an excuse to come home, slap on my PJs, and spend some time with the souls that love me most.  

"Peace in ourselves, peace in the world."

Today was a day filled with both happiness and sadness.  As I drove to the K9 Justice League adoption event, I thought about how much I'd miss Lars when he's finally adopted.  Letting your foster dog go is a funny kind of thing.  Your heart feels so many emotions when the day finally comes.  You're sad because you're losing a dog that you've let into your heart for however long.  You're happy because you helped save that dog's life.  You gave that dog a home and the environment he or she needed to have a chance.  YOU made a difference.  What closes the deal for me - what makes letting these dogs go bearable - is the thought that I'll be able to let another dog into my home that needs just as much help as the one before.  All emotions aside, though, the event went well, and Lars had a lot of people interested him - some that fit... and some that simply didn't.  Lars had a good day and seemed to enjoy all of the attention!  How can you NOT love a handsome boy like Lars?!  I'm shocked that he hasn't been adopted yet... simply because Lars is my "dream dog".  Like the rest of you, I can't adopt another dog.  My house is full... and fostering is important to me.  If I could, Lars would have a home with me in a millisecond!  So... I just have to keep holding out for that 'perfect home' for my Brindle Boy Wonder.  Giving him up WILL be hard.  He doesn't make it easy.  Lars is all about snuggling and looking cute!  He's pretty damn hard to resist.

The other kids were excited to see Lars when I got home... but the poor bugger was so tired that he immediately decided to take a nap.  After everyone got their sillies out (excluding Lars), I decided it was about time for Lyla to have a bath since I had some extra time.  She's all about getting dirty!  Lyla likes sunbathing as much as Jackson does.  Maybe even more!  She heads outside and plops herself down in the dirt without a care in the world.  Lyla - well - she's crazy.  She's a Pit/Lab mix with a lot of energy and attitude... though friendly as all with other dogs... and even cats!  She's just hard-headed.  Anyway, it was time to give the princess a bath.  I placed her in the tub, wet her down, shampooed her, and rinsed her off.  Throughout this entire process, Lyla stood like a statue and cooperated for her bath.  After the bath was over... it was time for the blow-dry... which she also showed no resistance to.  It was then that I started to get all emotional and mommy-like.  That was just the beginning.  While Lyla is still wild and obnoxious... I wondered where the heck my insane dog went.  Whether she was flailing around and growling about having her nails trimmed or jumping through the screen to join the neighbor's party at midnight... I just couldn't believe that my little girl was finally starting to grow up.  I was planning on saving an entry like this for Lyla's first birthday... but it seems to have happened a little sooner.



When did my 4-week-old foster puppy become an adult?!  I remember falling in love with her so clearly.  Brody was a year old... plus some.  I had gone through hell with that dog.  The last thing I wanted was another puppy.  But then this little Pit mix puppy came into my life.  She was adorable, loved Brody, Jackson tolerated her, and I found myself spending a lot more time with her than her two sisters.  I loved them all... but there was something about this little lady that drew me to her.  I couldn't imagine letting her go.  I racked my brain over and over and over again.  Can I afford another dog?  Do I really want to go through puppy hood again?  What the heck am I thinking?!  But I truly loved her... and I couldn't imagine separating Lyla from Brody.  So I adopted yet another dog... and strapped myself down to deal with puppy hood again.  Honestly... it was crazy all over again.  I took some time off from fostering to deal with integrating my senior dog, less than two-year-old GSD mix, and my brand new Pit/Lab puppy.  Everything went well... because I believe that these dogs were all meant to be together.  It wasn't terribly long before I was fostering again.  I'm glad that Lyla grew up like that, too, because she was exposed to a lot of different dogs throughout her maturation.  Now... no dog is a stranger.  She loves everyone!

In the midst of my emotionally strange day, I turned the television to a channel in which Marley and Me was on!  That's NEVER a good idea.  I cried through the book.  The movie?  Even more traumatizing!  I was already all teary-eyed about my Lyla growing up... when I started to think about Jackson as I was watching the movie.  I really should have just turned it off!  Jackson is about 8-years-old - as best as we can estimate.  Jackson was the first dog that was really mine.  I rescued him and restored his health.  He was the first dog that I really saved.  When I say that I'll need to be institutionalized when Jackson goes, I'm not lying!  Don't get me started on how I feel while watching Marley and Me.  It involves bawling, hyperventilating, and clutching my hands over my heart - because the thought of losing one of my babies hurts that much - and it's inevitable when your dogs start to get older... or even if some terrible accident happens.  Either way, it's hard to lose these little four-legged friends.

So what's there to say after my night of tears?  Other than the ones who comforted me were my dogs.  My dogs and my foster dogs both sprung into action and licked my tears away.  Seriously... watching Marley and Me had me bawling like a baby!

Anyway, enough of that.  On a more positive note, I'm very happy to say that I met a lot of pro-Pit folks today... including a 69-year-old woman who had a Pit already... and recently adopted one from AC.  Today gave me hope.  I cringe when I have to say a dog is a Pit or a Pit mix... because seeing THAT look - the look that you get from people who don't know anything about the breed - is kind of hard for me to deal with... simply because I just don't get it.  However, I did meet a lot of people who didn't shy away from the word "Pit Bull" today... and that's more than I could ask for.  I only hope that people continue to educate themselves about the breed and spread the love rather than the hate!