This weekend brought happy tails for everyone! Both of our foster dogs, Waffles and Koa, found their forever families. It's nice and quiet at the Bowen house with just our three old geezers. We'll see how long that lasts...I think we're going to shoot for a week off here if possible. Anyhow, we're super happy for Waffles and Koa! They've both got fantastic lives ahead of them.
Waffles and his mommy
Waffles, foot healed and good as new, wound up as an only child. His mom is retired, so he's got all her time and affection all to himself. How nice! He'll love being the star, but hopefully she'll take him to daycare or the dog park every so often so he can get his crazy play on. He does love to socialize. His mom said they'll come in to my store and visit every now and then. I'll be sure and do a pupdate post on him after they come visit so you can hear how he's doing. Waffles is a nervous little guy when he first meets people, but he gave his new mom a face full of kisses right away. How awesome is that? His mom instantly fell in love with him and was moved to tears by his story, gentleness, and affection. Oh, and she's keeping the name "Waffles"! Love it when that happens!
Waffles was sort of a co-foster effort. We pulled him and got his foot on the right track, then traded dogs with another foster family we're good friends with after about three weeks. Anne-Laure and Steed had been fostering a difficult Chihuahua named Mischa for a few months. Mischa hates men and was really having a rough time. We traded Mischa for Waffles to see if the change in scenery / routine would help at all and to give Anne-Laure and Steed a much deserved break. Waffles was a pretty easy dog - always happy, joyful, sweet, and playful. Sometimes you need a morale boost after dealing with a tough case for a while. Waffles gave them just that. Mischa's a story for another day. Anyway, Anne-Laure and Steed did a fantastic job with Waffles. They loved his carefree spirit just as much as we did. They continued helping his foot heal by giving him medicated foot soaks twice each day for a week (no joke...they're troopers) and making sure he took his antibiotics to ward off infection. Before long, his foot looked nearly perfect. We dog-sat Waffles for a few weekends here and there from that point on, but Anne-Laure and Steed remained his primary foster parents. It's been really cool to share the load so to speak with such good friends. Waffles became sort of a joint custody project, giving us all the opportunity to be touched by this sweet little dog's wonderful spirit.
Here's what Anne-Laure has to say about Waffles: "When Waffles first came into our house, he brought his liveliness and energy with him. Being used to Chihuahuas, we were a little unprepared for his athleticism when we left a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table. What would have been out of reach for a Chi definitely wasn't out of reach for the determined Waffle-nator's fast jaws. He ate all the food he could manage to get his paws/nose on. When there's no food around, he chomps on ice cubes after playing with them for a while first. This playful dog puts all his focus into whatever he's doing right right at the very minute he's doing it. If you take him on a car ride, it's his favorite thing ever. But so are walks, play time, belly rubs, cuddle time, dinner time, sleepy time, whatever! He loves it all! When he's content, he gently puts his chin on your arm and lets out a long sigh. He's the easiest, most loving little dog we've been lucky enough to have for a few days. He so wants love. I've never seen him show any sign of dislike toward anyone. One of my friends brought her 15 month old toddler over. She's scared of dogs so we were a little apprehensive, especially because Waffles has a much bigger bark than his size. He approached her very gently and rubbed his head on her, asking to be pet. When she felt safer, he chased her and she chased him back. When she picked up a little branch, he sat a few feet away from her with his eyes begging her to throw it. She didn't, so he very gently pulled the branch from her hand and threw it in the air for himself. He did that a few times, determined to teach her how to play fetch. This special little dog reassured my friend, I think, that dogs and toddlers are not incompatible. His gentleness combined with his puppy-ish love for play and passion for cuddle makes him the perfect dog in my book."
Derpfest!
None of us were able to make the adoption event this past Saturday. Anne-Laure dropped Waffles off at our house Friday night, planning to pick him up after the event on Saturday evening.. We snuggled, played, and enjoyed his company as usual. He's such a fun dog. We gave him a bath and cut his nails in prep for the event so he'd look his best. He'd had zero interest so far, which none of us understood given his endearing personality and extremely goofy cuteness. Saturday morning, I dropped him off at daycare on my way to work. He was transported to the event later that day. When I texted to ask how Waffles did, I nearly jumped out of my skin to hear that he was getting adopted. A lady had been pre-approved to adopt another Jake's Wish dog, but when she came to the event and saw Waffles it was love at first sight. We miss this happy little guy already, but we're so glad he's on to his forever! Best of luck to you, Waffle Cone!
Koa & her new momma!
Koa got the forever family of her dreams! She's got two canine brothers: Kielbasa the pittie and Sausage the Chihuahua. Sounds pretty perfect for her! Kielbasa needed a playmate. I'm sure he and Koa are running and wrestling as I type this. Koa's new people are great with training and consistency. The dogs have to wait for them to say "good morning" as the release phrase for coming out of their crates each morning! Too cute. Once per week, they're all allowed to sleep in bed with the people for a special night of snuggles. I'm so happy for Koa. I don't have as much to say about her happily ever after as I did for Waffles because we only had her for a week, but it's awesome to see this itty bitty happy pittie pup surrounded by love. I'm hoping we'll get photos of her once she's fully grown. If so, I'll be sure to share. Kisses, Koa!
This adorable little girl's name is Koa. She came into Santa Clara County Animal Control as a stray and Jake's Wish couldn't resist her sparkly eyes. Koa is 4 months old, 30 pounds, and just oh so sweet. She has a very mild case of demodectic mange. It's localized to just a couple patches here on her side and feet, so the vets are hopeful it will simply clear up on its own as she matures. All dogs carry demodex mites. Whether they develop mange is a matter of how overrun with the mites they become and how well their immune system is able to battle the mite population. Young dogs that are in stressful situations are more prone to developing a case of mange. It always seems like it's most often pitties that have demodex, but all breeds are equally susceptible. Perhaps it's just because pitties make up a larger percentage of the stray population. Puppies get the mites from their mother as they're born. Not all puppies in a litter may end up with mange, just the ones that have weaker immune systems. Basically, it's more of a sensitivity than anything else. Demodex isn't contagious like scabies (sarcoptic mange is highly contagious...our Bunkin had this when we got him). We saw some seriously horrible mange cases back in Atlanta: dogs with no fur left and their skin reduced to a full-body oozing scab, reeking of decay, dying of secondary infection and organ failure. Koa's will never be like this. You probably won't even notice anything in her photos.
ZzzzzZzzzz
Koa is a super mellow pup, which is of course awesome. Most of the time she just follows us around the house or rests on one of the dog beds in the living room. She knows what antlers and nylabones are for and she'll spend a good while chewing on them while she lounges. When she is feeling playful, she entertains herself by tossing ropes and other toys in the air and chasing them. At most, she'll do a couple gallops across the living room and maybe try to convince Oliver to play with her. That's pretty much it! She does enjoying going to We Dog Care doggy daycare and getting to be a little rowdy with her friends every now and then, but she certainly doesn't need to do that every day. Other than having to potty train and watch out for inappropriate chewing, it doesn't much feel like we have a puppy in the house. Fine by me! She's just a really good girl.
Koa at Hermitage
One of Koa's nicknames is Baby Hippo. She's none too graceful, she guzzles water, weighs a good solid beefcake ton, and makes these ridiculous deep snorting noises when she's excited. In fact, I think she learned to answer to Hippo before Koa, but that's ok. She knows both now. At We Dog, they call her Baby Shark because of her smooth sleek silvery coat and sharp puppy teeth. Every time I go to pick her up from daycare, one of the handlers is always holding her. I get home and wonder why she's not entirely pooped out - it's because all she does at daycare is snuggle with the hoomans! Silly Hippo. Everybody loves her and she loves everybody. She even gets along with cats. This pup is a piece of cake. We took her to Hermitage Brewery with us the other day and people just took turns asking if they could walk her the whole time. It was pretty great. Easy tip for getting dogs adopted: brewery photos. Works every time (knock on wood).
Who you callin' Hippo?!
Other than Zeke and Girl, both of which were super quick cases I did 1,000 years ago before knowing anything about rescue, we've never had a pittie before. Koa is our first. I don't know how we've gotten this deep without ever fostering a pittie, as they're the breed in the most need. Shortly after we moved here, someone said to me, "Oh, but you guys don't do pit bulls though!" and I said "What?!" before I realized we hadn't done one. We've fostered so many dogs that at this point it looked like we actually made an effort to not foster pits. I had to fix that! I'm not great at the whole "you shouldn't care what other people think" thing to begin with, but jeez I can't stand to have folks thinking that about us. We foster everybody and give them all the love they deserve. Just so happened that Jake's Wish needed a place for Miss Hippo, so there ya have it.
Pit bulls: they'll snuggle you to death
Cue crash course in being a pit bull [foster] parent. It hasn't even been a week and I've already had abundant opportunity to receive ignorant comments from folks about my [foster] dog. Within 5 minutes of arriving at the brewery, a lady asked us, "Is that a pit bull?" and then saying "how lucky we are to have gotten her before she was abused". I just smiled begrudgingly and explained that she's just as much of a blank slate as any other puppy. The next day at work, a customer and I were chatting about his teething puppy over nylabones. I laughed and, in an attempt to commiserate with him, mentioned that I've got a pittie puppy at home who likes to run with her mouth open, so I feel his pain about sharp puppy teeth. Instead of understanding the happy goofy puppy image I was going for, the guy looked horrified and warned me to "watch out for that" because "those dogs can turn dangerous fast when they're not raised right". Another WTF moment. My puppy teething is no different than your puppy teething, but because mine's a pit and yours is a lab, I can't talk about mine without incurring a safety lecture. Well, that's stupid. Today I ran across a lady who was absolutely certain Koa couldn't possibly be good with cats, no matter how many times I affirmed that she is. None of this is surprising to me in theory because I know how the story goes, but it's been interesting to experience firsthand. Mind you, Koa is a beautiful, super sweet, affectionate, quiet, well-behaved puppy. If people say stupid garbage like this about her now, I can only imagine what it'll be like when she weighs 50 pounds and loses her derpy baby face.
The struggle is real. My friends who are real pittie parents carry around an extra burden: an added level of accountability that is based solely on the breed of their dog and the ignorant generalizations surrounding it. See, I'm a bad pet parent: Oliver and Bunkin go to the dog park without their rabies tags on their collars sometimes. Just their name tags with my phone number. I know exactly where they are - at home, tucked away in the office filing cabinet. If something happened, I'd have to run home and get them on the way to the shelter / vet / wherever. No big deal, right? **[And yes, I know I really shouldn't do this]** Pittie parents don't have the luxury of being lax or negligent like that. They know their dogs don't go
anywhere without all their tags and licensing, because if something happens, it's going to be their fault. They aren't treated the same as terriers and retrievers. Any dog might react differently in stressful situations than they'd normally act (getting startled, tail stepped on, a jerky dog at the park, etc), but if a pit bull gets scared and bites someone or someone else's pet, there will be a witch hunt. It's a daily fear for pittie parents that their dog gets in a tussle with another dog or person and not only gets blamed, but "proves" the breed stereotype right. It's sort of like waking up every day feeling like you've got to prove yourself. This may be your amazing, beloved, sweet-hearted couch dog, but there's still that nagging fear in the back
of your mind every day that if he ever does anything less than perfect, it's over. It's not just a risk for your one dog that you're worried about, it's the ramifications on all the other amazing bully breeds out there that's truly terrifying. Nobody else has to carry that burden. People know my Chihuahua is a jerk, but they don't just assume all Chis are like that. Unfortunately, pitties are victims of gross generalization. The pit never gets the benefit of the doubt, a second chance, an even shake, or any of that stuff. Just because he's a pit. It's not fair.
It's one of my many doggy hopes that bully breeds someday soon regain their status as America's family dog. My hat goes off to all of you who advocate for these guys. Koa sends hippo kisses to Bruce, Bailey, Thor, Zaxby, Grace, Lacey, Rosie, Tank, and our other often misunderstood friends. Koa's proud to be a pit bull and we're proud to be her foster parents. For more information on adopting Koa, visit www.jakeswishrescue.org
Ok, moving forward after that sad bye bye Herman post. I've got happy stuff to share! Douille, the Sausage King of San Jose (now Dewey, the Slim Stud of San Francisco), is doing fantastically in his forever home. His mom sent me a ton of pictures, videos, and pupdates on him. He's settling in wonderfully since his adoption back in December and enjoying all the family dogs. Here's the latest from Brittany, his mom:
"The little sausage is doing amazing. Everyday more and more of his personality shows. He's been cuddling with me at night under the covers. I bought him these Santa mice cat toys which he absolutely loves! Chester is crazy about him and Dewey is starting to not mind Chester. I'm at my parent's house now. He has been so friendly with their American bull dog and English bulldog. The first thing he did when he saw them was give them kisses. He's been super playful with them! Dewey and the American bull dog (Jake) have been taking turns playing chase. His diet is going well although he does manage to find any little crumb on the floor. Potty training has been good. He's been going outside and using the pee pee pads. I am so in love with him. I adore his beautiful hazel eyes, big ears, and scrunchy nose that goes to the side when he sniffs. My whole family is actually pretty jealous. They've all been asking for their Dewey time. Thank you so much for this amazing gift!"
So that feels pretty great! I can't think of a creature that deserves a happily ever after more than Dewey. That little guy is so full of love and kindness! We miss him around here and are so glad he's thriving with his amazing family. Huge thanks to Brittany for sending and letting me share all these great pictures & videos, too. I'm pretty sure Dewey is our first foster dog to have his very own "good morning" song! Check it out here:
Dewey loves playing with his cousin, English Mastiff Chester. Dewey loves to snuggle, so I knew they'd grow to be good buddies. I'm sure Chester is quite the furry furnace! Here's a short video of Dewey & Chester playing at home:
Brittany's doing a nice job of helping Dewey keep the sausage weight off, too! Now that he's much slimmer and has a buddy to play with all the time, he can really move around. Here he is showing off his speed at the park in his fancy little sweater:
I went to the shelter in early January with a friend to check out a bunch of dogs. We had a list of nine dogs to parse through, one of which I wrote down simply because his intake photo reminded me greatly of Flea. He'd been on the rescue list for days and I paused at his photo every time I scrolled through the pages of faces. "Another male brown Chihuahua, just what every rescue always wants!" - said no one ever. Regardless, I'm sort of the champion of Chihuahuas, so we headed in to see this guy. He sat huddled in the back corner of his kennel, a little brown ball with giant forward-facing eyes and the tiniest face I'd ever seen. He didn't bark or freeze when we approached, but he didn't jump up to greet us either. I scooped him up with his blanket and we took him to the courtyard.
Those eyes!
Please take me with you
Once in the courtyard, the little brown critter just sort of stood on his blanket for a minute and looked at us. I wasn't sure how friendly he'd be. His kennel card said fearful, but he had no other behavioral notes. He was rescue only due to a mild heart murmur and dental tartar. We sat on the ground near him and gave him a few minutes to consider his next move. He decided standing very still was his best option. I reached my hand out and received a small lick in return. He approached my friend, sniffed her leg for a brief moment, then climbed up into her lap. As she gently scratched his head, he melted into oblivion. At one point he looked upward as if thanking the heavens for this moment of serenity. This 4.8 pound stray from King & Story Road caught our hearts with his quiet demeanor and soulful eyes. 15 minutes later, I knew I had to get him out. Thanks, Sara, for bringing him out of his shell.
I pulled Mini Flea under the umbrella of Jake's Wish Dog Rescue later that week and brought him home to foster. Drew and I were a bit nervous because we already had Shiva (the White Shepherd teenager) and this new guy was just so small and vulnerable. Turns out, they did fine together. In fact, little critter did fine with everyone! He fit in seamlessly with our crew; it was like he'd been with us all along. Now, what to name this funny little bug? I was thinking along the lines of typical goofy Chi names like Taco, Mojo, Poquito, etc. Drew, a bit over the whole "what are we going to name the new guy" conversation, busted out with Herman just to annoy me. Herman, really?! He was like yeah, you know, short for hermanito (little brother in Spanish). There was no way I was giving this guy such a humdrum old man name like Herman. Until it stuck. I found myself debating names for the next few hours, but calling him Herman all the while. I thought it was funny that Drew tossed out this ridiculous name and it turned out to be the one we went with. It just fit him. I don't know why. So, he became Herman. Over time, some of his MANY nicknames turned out to be Hermie, Herminator, Hermwise Gamgee, Hermit, Hermit the Not Dog (like Kermit the Frog), German, Germie, Germinator, Germit, Hermanito, Hermano, Herms, Squirmy, and Squirman (because he squirmed around all the time). Points for Drew and his backfired naming strategy. Herman had a name.
Herman, Oliver, & Bunkin
It didn't take me long to fall in love. Herman was simply perfect. A potty trained stray male Chihuahua who wasn't neutered until 6 years old? That exists?! Yes, yes it does. Herman was perfectly potty trained from day 1. He also learned his name on day 1. I think he's quite a bright little critter. His behavior was awesome; he earned free roam of the house almost immediately. We'd leave to go to dinner and food shopping and come back three hours later to find him in the exact same spot as we'd left him: on the living room dog bed in front of the fireplace. That was his spot. It's a gas fireplace, so even when it's off it stays nice and warm because of the pilot light burning. Herman
loved this. He'd roast his little Chihuahua booty all day long if we let him. Did I mention he didn't give a hoot about the other dogs? We had five dogs ranging from Herman's 4 pounds to Shiva the Shepherd's 80 pounds and he fit in seamlessly. He loved cuddling with Oliver, again because of warmth no doubt. Oliver let him climb all over him and snuggle in real good. We even caught him with Bunkin a time or two! Flea, not so much, but that's par for the course. Flea at least tolerated Herman. They shared a dog bed by the fire or a patch of sunlight every now and then. That's pretty generous for Flea. Oh yeah, bonus: Herman is hilarious. He kept us laughing all the time, whether with his crazy angry cat noises, his raspy bark, his back legs that barely touch the ground when he walks, his pre-meal ritual of rolling around on rugs, or his crazy attempts to make a nest inside a bunch of reusable grocery bags. He's a real clown. His quirks are truly endearing. And did I also mention that Herman even fit our crew's dress code? All three of our dogs happen to be brown males. It's an accident, honestly. They look similar enough that it's sort of a small, medium, large motif. Herman filled the XS vacancy. Can you spell sucker? I was in deep.
The fact that Drew also really liked Herman definitely didn't help my resilience. Herman slept perfectly in his crate in the other room the first few nights. Toward the end of week 1, he started howling overnight. We brought his crate in and set it next to our bed at nightstand-level, so he knew we were right there next to him. This worked for a couple nights, then the howling started again. Drew shocked me by immediately suggesting we just let him sleep in the bed with us and our three brown dogs. You've got to understand: Drew is seriously committed to the principle of fosters not sleeping in bed with us. As in no exceptions made, no "just for tonights", no "just while you're out of town", no "just to shut him/her up". It's one of the few hard lines we draw with fosters, for good reasons. We already have three dogs in our bed with us. It may be king-sized, but our sleep quality definitely suffers some nights because of overcrowding and overheating. The last thing we need is more dogs in the bed. There's also the "this is our dogs' special privilege" concept. Our guys put up with so much in the way of fostering. They share their home, their people, their toys, their couch, their everything. They need to know this is THEIR home, that THEY'RE the permanent residents here, and that there are some things that only THEY get to do. Sleeping in bed with us is one of those things. Depending on the foster, it's sometimes the only thing reserved just for them. It's a status thing. Beyond all of that, keeping fosters out of the bed helps keep me from getting that much more attached. Not to mention we have no idea what sort of sleeping habits their future adoptive parents will have. We don't want to ingrain undesirable habits; not everyone wants their dogs to sleep in bed with them, even though I want that for all of my fosters in their forever homes. Needless to say, when Drew just up and suggested Herman sleep in our bed, I was floored. Of course it worked - no more howling or crying in the night. He slept like a perfect angel snuggled in tight between our pillows or alongside Oliver. We were dealing with a pro snuggler.
Three weeks in, I said it out loud. Why don't we just keep Herman? I mean, he's perfect. He fits
in perfectly in every way. Keeping him wouldn't prevent us from continuing to foster - he's only the size of a fat guinea pig for pete's sake! And he gets along with everyone. Half the time I forget he's even around, he's so quiet and low maintenance. He's super sweet, loving, adorable, and brown. I mean hello, what's not to love? He's got Bowen written all over him, right? These were all my arguments for keeping Herman. Drew and I butted heads like mountain rams for a solid week on it. He cited several concerns. 1) Cost. But what cost? He's so small, he hardly eats anything! He's already vetted, he just had a dental, and I know several people who
would dog-sit him happily if we went on vacation. Cost wasn't an issue. 2) Four dogs. Ok, I'm not trying to have four dogs. Definitely not, I'll admit. The San Jose limit is three, so there's that. Plus think about whenever we move back across the country or try to rent another place - it's hard enough with three dogs. Heard, sort of. I mean, would we even have to disclose him? He's practically a guinea pig, like I said! He doesn't count as a fourth dog. 3) Fostering. If we have four dogs, we can only foster one at a time. Five dogs is our crazy limit, especially in our little townhome. We prefer to only have one foster at a time anyway, but it's nice to be able to take in a second if an emergency crops up. We'd lose that luxury, but we could still foster. 4) Flea. Flea is my baby. He is very sensitive. He gets very jealous when I bond with foster Chis. He was noticeably put out about
Herman, especially once he started sleeping in our bed. Keeping Herman would affect me and Flea's relationship, for sure. 5) Foster Fail. The big bad FF. Were we really going to do it on foster #30? And why? Because he's perfect and adorable? Because he's easy? Because why not? Those just didn't seem like good reasons to foster fail. Not now, not this far in. And Drew was right - if we were going to foster fail, shouldn't it be for a dog that wouldn't otherwise get successfully placed? Not on Herman, a dog that could pretty much do fantastically with anyone. We should reserve that space for the truly unadoptable, like Flea for instance. No one else would have taken him. We're like the island of misfits.
I mean, honestly...
After much discord and struggle, we unofficially decided to keep Herman. We took him off of Petfinder and the Jake's Wish website. He stopped going to adoption events. I even took his index card off of my adoptables board at work and filled out the adoption form. But something wasn't right. Keeping Herman was all I dreamed of, all I focused on, all I wanted for the past couple of weeks. Now that I had my way, I couldn't settle on it. I still wrestled with the idea day in and day out, which told me it wasn't right. Of all of Drew's points, #s 4 and 5 resonated with me. I couldn't "betray" Flea, so to speak and I couldn't resign myself to foster failing this far along. Herman, as much as I loved him and as well as he fit in with us, would make someone an amazing companion. I had to let him go. I knew I could do it - I've done it 29 times before - I knew it would hurt like hell, but I knew I could do it. I had to do it. It's what we do.
Got snuggles?
I dutifully began taking Hermit to adoption events again. He went back up on Petfinder and on the JW site. I steeled myself for the inevitable moment when we received a good application. I spent every day with Herman like it was our last. I snuggled him, cuddled him, babied him, and pampered him. Flea could deal temporarily. Hermie protested adoption events. Drew felt bad for him and said it was because he "thought he was home already". That made me feel like a steaming pile of you know what. My emotions were all over the place on this one. I even started to say, "well, if he's had no interest in two weeks' time, then I'm fine with just keeping him after all". Cop out. Looking for an easy way out. There was no easy way out. I was staring at a band aid that needed to be ripped off clean, no way around it. Then the perfect application arrived.
My favorite Herman photo
Saturday night, Drew and I delivered Herman to his forever home in Cupertino. I'm sitting here, deep into a fat glass of wine, and I can't tell you how much it hurts to write this. All of it. To recount my emotional roller coaster of a journey with this little creature, to relive how I fell in love with him, to hash out how I had to let him go. It's a sort of torturous cathartic exercise. My chest is so tight it feels like I'm going to implode, but I know we did the right thing. We fostered a great love and then let it go so it can thrive. His family is great: a mom and dad who are retired and home all the time, a teenage human sister who fell in love with him at first sight, a Rat Terrier canine brother named Max who likes to play, and a feline sibling named Sheba who loves to snuggle with dogs. Honestly, Hermit hit the jackpot.
Hermie rode in my lap as I drove to his new home, seemingly attuned to my distress. I carried him inside, held onto him for a few minutes, then set him down to meet Max. That was the last time I held Herman. Shortly afterward, his human sister scooped him up and he just sat there perfectly content in her arms, as though he'd known her forever. I could tell they had a special bond, one that will grow over the years into a great love. He's usually iffy with new people, but he was completely at ease with her. We signed the paperwork and I excused myself before I lost it. Herman licked my finger on the way out. That was it. Tears came before I walked to the end of Herman's new driveway. It wasn't an easy night. I was ill, but I knew it was right. I know Herman has a wonderful family who loves him tremendously and I know we made the right choice for our family. Flea is already noticeably happier now that he has me "back", all to himself. Our home is quiet, so quiet, with just our three guys. We need the downtime after difficult ones like this. I need to remember how much I have to appreciate, how good my own boys are, and how nice our routine is. As tempting as it is to rebound with a brand new foster, I need a moment to cleanse my palate. Our dogs deserve that, too. I wouldn't be surprised if they feel a little weird after Herman's departure. The truly great ones affect all of us. For me, it's Pickles and Herman. For Drew, it's Cowboy and Shiva. I have to say, it sort of feels good to have this tremendous pain. It reminds me of my humanity and it's a very intense process to go through - I always learn a little more about myself. And I'm always stronger for it in the end. Here's to love, saving lives, and forging ahead. Most of all, here's to Herman's happy tail.
Intake photo showing injured foot and shock collar
Every morning, our shelter's "needs rescue" list is emailed to me and a bunch of other local rescue representatives. Almost a month ago, a little Dachshund mix with an injured paw showed up on the list. He was wearing a shock collar and had the most awful tear stains. Drew said he looked like he'd been crying for days. His eyes stared through his intake photo at me and begged for help. Sometimes you can just see their gentle souls through their eyes. This was one of those dogs. I knew him as SB02, his kennel number. We started calling him "foot dog", which wasn't really much better than SB02. Drew and I went to meet him & we knew we had to have him. I went inside his kennel and sat down next to him to get some better pictures and an idea of his demeanor. Despite all the pain he must have been in, he was so sweet and loving. He hobbled over next to me and laid down while I rubbed his ears. He was so much cuter in person than in his intake photo - young, white and cream colored, super soft, and stretchy like a wiener mix. Oh, and he had the most fantastic overbite I'd ever seen. He reminded me of derp master Tuna of internet fame: http://www.tunameltsmyheart.com/
Waffles in his kennel at the shelter
A few days later, we pulled "foot dog" under Jake's Wish Dog Rescue and brought him home to safety. He hopped out of the shelter like a champ on three legs. Nothing was going to stand in his way - he was heading for the good life now. It was so sad knowing he belonged to someone who bothered to put a shock collar on him, but didn't bother to go looking for him when he ended up in the shelter. A lovely owner, for sure. And no - he's not a barky guy. His foot looked rough, so I bandaged it for the first day we had him in order to keep him from stress licking. This made it worse, so we went open air healing and cone of shame from that point on until it dried up enough to stop oozing. We suspected he'd gotten hit by a car. He had a few other minor scrapes and bruises on his body, but just the bad one on his foot. Fortunately, x-rays showed no broken bones. After our experience with Raven's horrible carpal wound, which was far worse than this guy's, we knew we could get him fixed up no problem. You can read my main post on Raven's story here: http://ohfortheloveofdogs.blogspot.com/2013/10/raven-rough-start-for-sweet-girl.html
Waffles and his derptastic overbite
We needed to come up with a name for "foot dog", so we enlisted the help of Facebook and asked our friends to chime in. One of our friends in Chicago suggested "Waffles". We are from Atlanta where chicken and waffles is sort of a popular thing, however goofy it may seem. We decided to go with Waffles because of his goofy personality. He needed a silly sort of name. Turns out a lot of Californians don't really understand the whole chicken and waffles bit, but oh well. Waffles it is. As with every dog who comes through our house, Waffles has loads of nicknames: Waffy, Waffular, Chicken And, Waffle Taco, and Waffle Cone while he had to wear the cone of shame. I mean, really, how could we resist?
Waffles enjoying the comfy couch
Waffles has the best personality ever. He's so ridiculously excited about life itself - it's contagious. He's happy-go-lucky, wiggly, snuggly, lovey, and just downright aderpable. I love his zest for life and his enthusiasm for everything. He's always happy to see you and he's never met a stranger. He loves other dogs and gets everyone to play. I just love his spirit. He's really a special little guy. Waffles will make a fantastic family dog. He'd love to have kids and other dogs to play with, then snuggle up with the family at night. It's just so wonderful to see him enjoying a comfortable life with the promise of safety and love. He deserves nothing less. Earlier this week, Drew and I traded foster dogs with our rescue friends. Waffles went to their house and we took their foster, Mischa, who needs a change of scenery and extra socialization. Waffles is doing great at their house so far. He's got his favorite spot on the couch all figured out and he's loving their other dogs. I took him to the vet for a foot check up this morning. It's healing really nicely, with the exception of one toe. The nail looks pretty dead and will likely fall off, but that's ok. He's on antibiotics to ward off infection and he gets his foot soaked twice daily in a medicated rinse. How nice...anyhow, you can see how much progress his foot has made in just four short weeks! It's pretty amazing how resilient dogs are and how well they heal. Hopefully that toe improves.
Waffles is bearing weight pretty well on all fours. He still goes to three legs when he runs really fast or if he's feeling lazy, but for the most part I think he'll go back to walking normally once he's completely healed. He should be ready for adoption events in another week or so. Waffles is just such a special little critter. He's going to make someone out there super happy, we know it. He makes us laugh every day with his goofy face and wiggly booty. Then he melts our hearts when he curls up for snuggles in the evening. We're thankful that he gets to have a life beyond the identity of "foot dog" and that he finally knows what love feels like. Stay tuned for more on this low-rider goofball as he continues his journey toward furever! He's listed on Petfinder here if you'd like more adoption information: https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/31509770
Waffles was sort of a co-foster effort. We pulled him and got his foot on the right track, then traded dogs with another foster family we're good friends with after about three weeks. Anne-Laure and Steed had been fostering a difficult Chihuahua named Mischa for a few months. Mischa hates men and was really having a rough time. We traded Mischa for Waffles to see if the change in scenery / routine would help at all and to give Anne-Laure and Steed a much deserved break. Waffles was a pretty easy dog - always happy, joyful, sweet, and playful. Sometimes you need a morale boost after dealing with a tough case for a while. Waffles gave them just that. Mischa's a story for another day. Anyway, Anne-Laure and Steed did a fantastic job with Waffles. They loved his carefree spirit just as much as we did. They continued helping his foot heal by giving him medicated foot soaks twice each day for a week (no joke...they're troopers) and making sure he took his antibiotics to ward off infection. Before long, his foot looked nearly perfect. We dog-sat Waffles for a few weekends here and there from that point on, but Anne-Laure and Steed remained his primary foster parents. It's been really cool to share the load so to speak with such good friends. Waffles became sort of a joint custody project, giving us all the opportunity to be touched by this sweet little dog's wonderful spirit.
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