numerous updates

Topaz

Ok, so it's been a long while.  Topaz was adopted a while back.  This happened while I was on a 2 week trip for work, which was weird because I never got to say goodbye to him, but I suspect that was best for him, because hopefully he'll forget all about me.  The hardest part is not being able to explain to the dogs that this arrangement was only ever temporary, and I'm not passing them along because I don't love them, but because that was the deal, and that they are going somewhere where they'll get to stay forever.

Coffee

One of the most annoying and angering parts though, is when the dog is adopted and then RETURNED.  This happened with Coffee, who was our next foster after Topaz.  Coffee was sweet as can be, and much lower-maintenance than Topaz, much less demanding and so easy to be with.  From the first day I brought her home, within minutes we were taking a nap together on the couch with her sleeping right on my chest.  She was just really laid back.  Bafflingly, she had been with the rescue for like 2 years already.  I couldn't understand it.  She had some housetraining difficulties, but that's not unusual, and that was really the only problem I could find.

After a few weeks, she was adopted.  After maybe 2 weeks, I got a call from her new adoptive "mom" who seemed a little tentative about things, not very positive, and said Coffee seemed indifferent to her.  As the conversation moved along, I learned that Coffee had been diagnosed with strep.  STREP.

Imagine for a moment that you are a little creature who has just been moved to a new, strange home with a person you don't know, and then you come down with strep.  You are sick, miserable really, in a completely new environment, and you are with a stranger.

So, the lady told me she though maybe she adopted the "wrong dog" and that she might look into "exchanging her for that other gray poodle."  Em.  No.  You seem to have confused adopting a dog with buying a sofa, said I. (In my head.)

Needless to say, Coffee came back to the rescue and that woman was not permitted to adopt another dog.  But then I went on vacation for 2 weeks, so I never saw Coffee when she came back, and the weekend I came back, she got adopted again, this time (itdamnwellbetterbe) forever!  But oh, I miss her sweetness quite a bit.

Transporting

Today, I participated in an across-the-country dog transport run.  4 dogs were traveling from North Carolina to Michigan, from a high kill shelter in the south to a rescue.  I only had to transport them across one leg of the trip, from Dayton to Lima.

They were a wonderful, well-behaved bunch.  Three males had the back seat to themselves.

Tripp, the sleeping guy in the front there, had the right idea.  And soon, everyone else followed his lead.

Up in the front seat next to me was a sweet, parasite-ridden girl who was absolutely fascinated by the windshield wipers.  (Until it was her nap-time too. She was alert and awake most of the time, though.)

This poor girl is carrying around a litter of puppies inside her, in addition to a horrible case of heartworm.  As I stroked her head while I drove across the Ohio countryside, I couldn't stop thinking about how strange pregnancy must be for a dog, who doesn't get to have the knowledge that she's pregnant the way a person does.  It never actually occurred to me before: animals can't really plan, so they're never "expecting." No one explains to them "you are going to have babies."  They just do what they know, follow their instincts, and one day, crazy weird things start happening to their bodies, and they kind of know what to do, and then puppies are coming out of them.

Meanwhile, in this girl's case, worms are crawling around in her blood.  Who knows what kind of horrible discomfort heartworm causes, and she certainly has no knowledge or understanding of that either.

Thinking about it made my heart ache, so I just kept scratching her ears.  She seemed to like that.

Up Next...

Tomorrow I go to pick up 2 little pups out in Nowheresville, Ohio.  More on that soon.

taking a break

Truman (above/left) and Harriet (below/right)

So, lately we've been taking a break from fostering.  I'm not going to pretend that I was happy about this break, but I share a house with others, so their feelings matter.  I'm pretty sure Truman would be happy to have new dogs come into our house every single day.  Harriet appreciated the break, and I think it did her some good, but she did not request it, what with her being a dog and all.

No, my co-human requested we take a break for a little while.  And I wouldn't normally address relationship issues here, but since this was directly related to dog fostering, I will, because I can't imagine it is an uncommon scenario.

It was hard for me to understand why B cared one way or the other about me fostering dogs, because I am the one who takes care of them when they're here, and we already have two dogs who he has no problem caring for, so in my eyes, it's not that big a deal adding another dog. 

But he explained that it was simply the stress of having another dog who isn't as comfortable and adjusted to our home, who may or may not be fully house-trained, who may or may not be afraid of loud noises and sudden movements.  And perhaps writing that just now is the first time I've really grasped why it might be a burden on him even when I'm doing the caretaking.

Regardless of my ability to accept and understand on an intellectual level, however, I had found myself getting increasingly irritable and angry over the past couple weeks, as people asked if we were currently fostering any dogs, and I felt my answer for why we weren't to be slightly unjustifiable.  We can!  And there are plenty of dogs that need foster homes!  Why aren't we fostering? "Because my partner doesn't want to right now" was what it came down to, and that made me a little bit resentful.

So, I told him that today.  I said "intellectually, I totally respect your decision and care about your needs... but emotionally, I'm finding myself feeling increasingly angry about not being able to do something I really care about, and I'm not sure what to do about it."  This was followed up by a really good talk about what he needed from me if we were going to start fostering again, and now, he has kindly agreed to let another dog be a visitor in our house if I am a little more active about minimizing its affect on him as he enters into a potentially more-stressful-than-usual phase in the coming months of work.

As a result, we will hopefully have another foster dog again very soon, and I am thrilled about it! 

At this moment, I am sitting on the couch in the living room with my laptop, B is on his laptop in the recliner, and I am flanked by our two sleeping dogs.  It is quiet and peaceful, and I can totally understand the appeal and comfort of this little family.  But I feel such a sense of purpose from fostering dogs, of bringing another dog who has suffered because of irresponsible people, and helping that dog be comforted in this peaceful environment, even as the foster dog disrupts some of that peacefulness.  I can't wait to meet our next house guest.