Another Chapter of the Great Rescue Journey...

I'm writing again! This means two things: 1) I've got stuff to share with you and 2) I've got time to do it! Of course, making time for one thing means cutting back on something else, or in this case all the things. This post is equal parts catharsis and chronology, so bear with me while I bring you up to speed...it's going to be a lengthy one. And before I begin, thanks for listening...it means a lot!

When we moved to California, I had to start from scratch and find a way to insert myself into the rescue scene. As I described in my reflection post about 2014 rescue, I dove head first into the thick of things, gained a lot of experience, and made a bunch of amazing friends along the way. 2015 was messy. As with any field that involves passionate people striving to do big things in the name of change for a common cause, drama and egomania all too often play a nasty role in rescue. The group I poured my soul into during 2014 tore apart at the seams, causing an enormous divide within the rescue community in its wake. Trusted leaders made selfish decisions in furtherance of personal legacies and recognition, spinning webs of lies and destroying reputations along the way without regard for damage done to the cause. I spent most of 2015 trying to recover from the personal hurt and attempts to flay my integrity; I found that fighting the good fight by marching forward with the ever-present need for rescue work was the best way to heal my wounds and affirm my value. Nose to the grindstone, as they say. Rescue never sleeps, never stops, never takes a breath. I showed people who I am and what I care about, which turned out to be a very effective way to gain trust and get good work done. Apparently this approach isn't used as much as it should be. Sincerity is always a breath of fresh air; it's too bad we only ever seem to catch fleeting gasps of it here and there.

Some of my favorites from Unleashed...

Drew and I fostered for a few other groups during the great gap period of 2015 and we had some awesome dogs come through our home, but time and time again I found myself discontent with the group dynamics for one reason or another. I also found it difficult to simply be a foot soldier when I was so used to leading and carrying a bigger role. I struggled to find my place post St. Francis and bounced around quite a bit as a "free agent". Fortunately, I had an awesome little job which I absolutely loved at Unleashed (a boutique concept store owned by Petco) as their Dog & Cat Department Manager. I worked here happily for a bit over two years and enjoyed the meshing of animal welfare between my job and my rescue efforts. Pet nutrition became my major jam and orchestrating our store's relationships with rescue groups for adoption events and fundraising suited my skillset and brought me great joy. Our little store found its way to #1 in the District (and I think the Region) for adoptions during my stint. I even got to organize the Adoption Alley participants at San Jose's annual Christmas in the Park 2015! I took serious pride in my work at Unleashed and my two bosses' support and friendships helped me through the transitional period between what I call St. Francis Round 1 and St. Francis Round 2.

Maddie's Fund foster awareness campaign interview

In March 2015 after spending some time doing courtesy evaluations for various rescue folks, I was asked to join the San Jose Animal Advocates team - four of us (at the time, but later we became six) who walked, slept, ate, breathed, talked, and dreamed rescue triage around the clock. SJAA acts as a liaison between the rescue community and the San Jose shelter, inserting itself into the flurry of deadlines and dates in an attempt to ease the burden on both sides by doing the legwork and heavy lifting of networking. The "needs rescue list" pinged my phone every night around 3-4AM, indicating the latest round of dates and notes on those who needed a little extra help in order to make it out of the shelter. We used our relationships with local groups and rescuers all around the Bay Area to help give these guys voices; we knew which folks to "pitch" which animals to and how to focus our efforts in a perpetual avalanche of deadlines. Review the list, choose candidates, go perform evaluations, take photos and videos for networking, write creative bios for networking, fight the clock, ask for deadline extensions if needed, ask for medical updates, work social media, cash in favors, secure funding when needed, cross your fingers, become heavily emotionally invested, and then either succeed or fail. Save a life or mourn a life. Either way, get over it quickly because the caseload is never just one dog or cat - it's 5, 10, 15, or more at a time. And that clock is always ticking in three day increments. I got to the point where I'd wake up in the middle of the night just before the next NRL came in so I could catch up on messages in order to get a head start on the next day. No alarm clock needed, just the constant need to check my phone and do work that could never wait dragging me out of my slumber each night. I easily put in 40 volunteer hours per week for SJAA in addition to my 40 hour per week job. SJAA is like an around the clock emergency that never allows for breaks, comfort, or a lasting sense of accomplishment. On top of that, we constantly had to sort out difficulties between team members and often between ourselves and the shelter team. Dynamics flew from both sides every day and it wasn't always clear that we were on the same side. It became sort of a "too many cooks in the kitchen" situation. Sure, there was one week in which we secured rescue for twelve dogs who weren't supposed to make it out, but there was also the week immediately preceding where we lost four into whom we'd poured immeasurable effort. I'll never forget the day I assessed 17 dogs in three hours, only to spend three more hours typing up my formal evaluations once I got home. In any case, even for someone as capable of compartmentalizing and embracing a clinical approach to heavily charged tasks as I am, I couldn't sustain the emotional roller coaster of SJAA. I found it hurting my marriage, as I became more married to my inboxes than my husband, more likely to be late to dinner because my evaluations at the shelter ran long, more likely to fall asleep on the couch with my phone in my hand during a movie, more likely to lose myself in the endless flurry of rescue triage and lives in limbo. After 9 months of SJAA trenchwork, I resigned. I quit for myself, for my husband, and for the animals. I had to make sure I didn't burn out completely so that I could continue saving lives longterm. It was an amazing ride, but it was time to rest and switch gears. Turns out I didn't have much time to rest...

St. Francis APS 5k "Run for Rescue" 2016

I'd maintained a working relationship with the President of St. Francis after the "break up" and during my time with SJAA. I'd reached out to her a few times to take in animals we were networking. She lives in Arizona, so the deal was always that I'd manage the dog and its foster home if St. Francis sponsored it. I was amazed by her willingness to work with me after all of the mud-slinging done during the split, but we put our cards on the table and shared our healing processes. I'd never had anything but pleasant dealings with her and she'd never shown me anything but graciousness. When she asked if I'd assume rescue operations for St. Francis and help her rebuild, I needed time to think. It took me a while to process this development and to really consider whether it was something I wanted to do. After SJAA, I felt I needed to run a rescue like I needed a hole in my head - those of you who know me have heard me say this time and time again! And oh my god, I'd have to do cat rescue, too! Hah. But I also really valued the concept of helping restore a community pillar like this group and seeing something good triumph over all the garbage tossed our way. I accepted her offer and began recruiting fosters and rebuilding our animal inventory. I made it my mission to do things differently - I had to in order to show the animal welfare community that St. Francis wasn't the monster under the bed that they'd heard about from a few power hungry egomaniacs who'd lost their way and attempted to burn the barn on their way out. I had to regain everyone's trust on behalf of this organization; I had to make St. Francis rise from the ashes. There's only one way for one girl to do that: get. to. work.

Most of our trusty crew!

Tee up St. Francis Round 2! I spent eight months championing this 44 year old organization's legacy, its present approach, and its future mission. I believed in what I was doing; I believed in this little mini crusade that became my pet project. I was so done with the default desperate ways of rescue; I wanted something more sustainable and more stable that would cause less grief for everyone involved. Working with my friends proved to be the most powerful approach I could've ever cooked up. One by one, the very best of the old St. Francis crew - most of whom are my personal friends - returned to the group wanting to help. It turns out that helping friends make a difference in something you all share passion and respect for is a very powerful thing. And with every animal we helped, with every new or old volunteer we recruited, with every adoption event or fundraiser or volunteer get together we held, we felt that sense of community achievement that so many rescues fail to foster. We made one hell of a team and we saw St. Francis grow in ways it never had before due to the strong ties and great integrity across our volunteer network, our little St. Francis family. We won. We all banded together and enabled St. Francis to shrug off the cloud of disrespect and misuse left behind from 2015 and reclaim its place as a cherished pillar of animal welfare in our community. We all got to glean a great sense of vindication and achievement for ourselves, as well. This felt amazing. Not only did this "project" help me heal, but it helped me build even stronger friendships and hopefully make some lasting impressions for change in the way volunteers are treated across the board. Don't get me wrong, our animal inventory and "numbers" were impressive, but that's only one moving part of the machine. The people - they're the key. When people want to help, it's our job to help them figure out how to help. Folks could do anything with their time, so if they want to give it to you, to your cause, take their hand and graciously show them how to do so. It's not rocket science; treat people with respect and foster constructive contribution. Take the time to high five or publicly recognize or raise a glass when someone does something good. We all need that pat on the back! Rescue isn't about us, but we can't do it if we lose ourselves along the way. Find that balance and help others see it - don't keep it a secret. I am thankful to Caron and humbled by the opportunity to further St. Francis APS; to say it's been a remarkable journey is an understatement. I owe extensive thanks to Kim for her undying support and eagerness to learn all things rescue on such a quick timeline. I am eternally grateful to my friends and rescue peers for the support and camaraderie they've given me throughout this crazy endeavor. I believe St. Francis will always be better for it, because of all of you and the love you brought back to it.

My birthday rolled around and I got an unexpected gift in the mail: an acceptance letter to the Foothill College Veterinary Technology program. Finally. Except I felt nothing upon opening the envelope; I wasn't excited anymore. I'd found so much purpose in the St. Francis project and gained so much more experience than I'd ever imagined; I wasn't keen on giving it all up for something that would throw me back into a state of grueling challenge. Timing is a funny thing; I still very much want to build a career as a vet tech, but not right now. I worked toward acceptance for almost three years and it was weird to say no when the opportunity finally presented. I was happy...I'd found my place. Finally. I signed my name to the line declining my spot in the program and stuck the form in the mail. With great discussion and realization that our West Coast adventure had just come to a transition point, we decided to move back to Atlanta. Just like that, my focus changed. California hadn't kicked my butt after all - it just threw me curve ball after curve ball until my carefully laid plans became an almost unrecognizable tapestry of colorful experiences. I got a new tattoo to symbolize this and to parallel the one I got upon leaving Atlanta. Drew took a new job and I left mine to focus on rescue full time and, incidentally, I've started a small pet sitting business along the way (Wet Noses ATL). 

Count the brown dogs!

So, that's what I've been up to since 2014. The decision to leave St. Francis in the form of a gradual hand-off was difficult, but I managed things long distance for about a month and then found myself ready to let go. I learned so incredibly much during the almost three years we spent in California. The good, the bad, the ugly, the awesome, the inspirational, the humbling, and the challenging. These things make us who we are...I wouldn't change any of it, not even the lessons your own mother hopes you'll never have to learn. I will never stop being a pain in the ass! Never stop questioning the status quo, pondering change, stretching that comfort zone, building new bridges and carefully crossing old creaky ones without looking back, pressing for success, and advocating for what you believe in. Never. Stop. Being. Genuine. I'm still struggling to find my place here in Atlanta rescue again; things are different since we left and I'm having a hard time not running my own circus so to speak, BUT I'm proud to say I've been here before and patience will yield whatever is next. In the meantime, we foster here and there. You know the drill! The time has come for our next adventure...

P.S.: To those of you at the San Jose shelter, at SJAA, and of course to everyone who played a part in St. Francis Round 2, thank you from the depths of my crazy dog lady soul. Much love!

P.P.S.: This one's for all my St. Francis Round 2 critters: Dogs Chowder, Zoe, Holly, Mimi, Pepper, Prince, Annie, Perry, Sabrina, Bonsai, Snoopy, Big Ben, Rango, Dozer, Buttercup, Alfie, Bumble Bee, Dottie, Skipper, Chippy, Charlie Brown, Rascal, Star, Bailey, Shelby, and Zed and cats Arrow, Harper, Sequoia, Brie, KitKat, Skittles, Candy, Gumdrop, Taffy, Charlie, Raven, Rain, River, Daisy, Magnolia, Cosmos, Dora, Diego, Jesse, Jason, Jill, Friday, Professor Pudding, Ivy, Big Boo, Little Boo, Poppy, Monkey, Tiger, Bear, Bunny, Dizzy, Duke, Miles, Nina, Orangie Orange, Gris Gris, Oscar, Simba, Roo, Stevie, Stewie, Skip, Scout, Tommy, and Oreo. I can't name all my SJAA animals, but you're all in my heart forever.

Peppercorn's Plight: A Difficult Rescue Journey Comes to a Difficult End

Pepper, just a week before the end.

This is one of those posts that requires a large glass of wine next to the computer as I type. It's not a happy post, but even the saddest situations often have positive takeaways. If you recall, we last left off with Peppercorn adjusting to being the only dog in his new (third) foster home and doing well with a bit more space. Please, if you've got a few minutes to spare, have a refresh of his full story: http://ohfortheloveofdogs.blogspot.com/2015/04/peppercorns-plight-overcoming.html

Our last moments with Pepper

By way of Peppercorn, I came to know my wonderful rescue friend, Dawn Piazza. Dawn and 

I were both drawn to Pepper while he was at the shelter and we both committed to finding him rescue. Dawn is the one who found Jenna, Pepper's first foster, who made his jailbreak possible. Little Taco, the grey-ish Chi playing with Pepper in one of his shelter videos, is one of Dawn's own dogs she uses to test shelter dogs and help gauge their social skills. Dawn was right there with me on day one of Pepper's journey and we've since saved more dogs together than I can count, both independently and as part of the San Jose Animal Advocates team. Today, Dawn was right there with me on the final day of Peppercorn's journey. Today, together, we let him go.

Enjoying that cheeseburger

Over the past month or so, Pepper's foster dad (Henry) noticed his lymph nodes seemed enlarged. Over the next few weeks, he noticed Pepper seemed to be generally uncomfortable and extremely tired. He lost interest in walks, food, and water. His physical appearance changed; Pepper looked both oddly bloated and emaciated at the same time. He had no muscle tone left, just a bag of creaky bones. The vet cultured Pepper's lymph nodes and discovered that he had terminal Stage IV Lymphoma. Last Thursday, the vet informed us that Peppercorn had 10-30 days left. Just four days later, Henry called me to say he felt Pepper's comfort level had further declined and that we should go ahead and make the difficult decision to let him go. This evening, one week after we received Pepper's diagnosis, I made that painful one-way trip to the vet. After Henry gently kissed his head and said his goodbyes, I drove Pepper to Burger King for a treat. He enjoyed a bacon cheeseburger in the front seat of the car before we went inside for our appointment.

He went peacefully. In fact, Dawn and I think he passed on his own before the cocktail kicked in. His poor little body was so tired, so worn out, and so ready. I honestly believe that today was his day to go. Dawn and I stood by his side the entire time, stroking his back and gently scratching his formerly tattered ears (they healed in time!). In many ways, seeing such a weary creature finally let go and just slip gently out of our world came as a relief. Cancer is a terrible, exhausting, all-consuming monster. I am glad, in a poignantly bittersweet sense, that it took him so quickly.

Peppercorn spent ten months and eight days in foster care, during which time he bounced from Jenna's home to mine and finally to Henry's. To call Pepper a village effort would be an understatement. I remained his foster coordinator the whole time and got to see, unfortunately, that Pepper seemed determined to remain on the wrong side of the "unadoptable" cusp. But we are RESCUE. It doesn't matter. What matters is that Peppercorn had almost a whole year of freedom and love. Although we can't have every case be a "Peppercorn", it is so tremendously important that we take one on every now and then in order to grow in our efforts, to check our motives, to make a difference, and to save a life. So when you wonder why Dawn and I are smiling in the photo with Pepper on his last day of life, it is because he brought us together and together we will save many more lives in his memory.

Thank you to everyone who played a part in Pepper's journey. Jenna & Alyssa M., Dawn, SJAA, Alyssa S., Tina, Heidi & Jake's Wish, Drew, and most of all, thank you to Henry for loving him for seven months without a single hint of impatience or complaint. You may never read this, but I hope you know that you meant the entire world to this little dog and I don't know what we would have done without your commitment.

Pepper & Henry

Pepper: thank you for bringing Dawn into my life. Thank you for reminding me that I can't fix every broken dog. Thank you for keeping me humble. Thank you for the opportunity to grow even more in what I do. Thank you for trusting me and for allowing me to be part of your journey. Now rest, and know you were loved, Peppy. This hard life is behind you.

Ziggy: A Designer Dog in Need of Rescue

I got a call from St. Francis Animal Protection Society one afternoon, saying that they could use my help figuring out a quick solution to a sensitive case. After a couple phone calls and some speed dial networking, I was on standby to receive another foster dog under Jake's Wish Dog Rescue. Without sharing details, here's Ziggy's story. It's a great example of rescue networking and folks working together for animal welfare.

Ziggy came to us from a domestic violence situation. Although Ziggy was never harmed, his human mom had to flee her home and leave him behind. She bravely had a family member reach out to St. Francis APS and put together a plan for Ziggy's rescue. It took almost three weeks to get Ziggy out of his home and into foster with us, and once it happened it was very sudden. I had about an hour's notice before Ziggy was dropped off at my work in his crate, confused and stressed. 2 years old, 15 pounds, unaltered, full of fleas, overgrown nails, and eating grocery store food. Sigh.

This is his "I'm fancy" pose

Oh yeah, Ziggy happens to be a papered Designer Dog! He's a Pugillon - his sire was a Pug and his dam a Papillon. I wish I could share their full names because they're hilarious, but I'm afraid that might shed light on identities. I gave Ziggy a new name along with his fresh start in life. His old name was nowhere near as great as his parents', anyhow. Ziggy is a registered AKC Hybrid. In other words, he fancy. That underbite, that curled tail, that smushed face? Somebody paid big bucks for that mess. I'll admit - part of me took a small thrill in neutering a "designer dog". Hah. So here's this fancy pants breeder dog who came to me in worse shape than a lot of stray mutts I pull from the shelter. Frustrating.

We had some serious work to do with this little dog. He was very loved by his people, but I think when your husband is beating the crap out of you, bathing and training and caring for the dog takes a bit of a backseat. Ziggy was infested with fleas and had a terrible skin infection from scratching constantly. He was absolutely miserable. He also had crazy separation anxiety, no doubt as a result of being in a turbulent home environment for some time and now suddenly ripped away from his people. Barely a moment went by without Ziggy shrieking at the top of his lungs. I couldn't even shut the bathroom door without him losing his mind. The fact that we didn't receive any complaints from neighbors that first week is nothing short of a miracle sent from the dog gods. So, we got to work setting strict boundaries and teaching Ziggy proper manners. He needed to learn his place and figure out what it meant to be in a stable home where rules apply to everyone.

a structured Ziggy = a happy Ziggy

Our second week with Ziggy was much better. He'd gotten neutered and seemed to feel more confident around the house with us. He slept nicely in his crate next to our bed and no longer had a panic attack if I disappeared around the corner for a moment. He picked out some favorite toys and learned which of the dogs in our house enjoyed playing with him. He also learned which dogs didn't enjoy playing with him, which was an important lesson for him to grasp. I grew pretty darn fond of Ziggy while we had him, despite his neuroses. Someone else saw past the quirks and fell in love with his crazy mug...Ziggy was adopted after two weeks with us!

So, rescue isn't restricted to mutts in need. All breeds of dogs end up in shelters, sadly, and/or in need of rescue assistance from time to time. Looking for a specific breed? Get in touch with a local rescue group. They can help do some of the legwork for you. Obviously, we don't get Pugillons in the shelter every day, but as long as you have patience you will find what you're looking for. Hardly a week goes by where I don't see a Golden Retriever or a Boston Terrier or a ShihPoo or a Maltipoo stuck in the shelter. Hard knocks don't discriminate. Ziggy can tell you that firsthand, although he luckily avoided having to go to the shelter. Cheers to Jake's Wish & St. Francis APS for saving a life together!

Peppercorn's Plight: Overcoming Undesirability

Chihuahuas. San Jose is absolutely overrun with them. The "market" is thoroughly saturated. Chis are a dime a dozen out here. Nobody wants them, especially if they're less than perfect. You mark? You bark? You've got a heart murmur? Luxating patella? Bad skin/coat? Allergies? You're less than perfectly socialized? You're a tan/brown male? Forget it. Those are just some of the initial obstacles so many of our Chihuahuas face. Nobody wants any of that. It's easier to find rescue for Chis who weigh four pounds or less; their teeny tiny size ups their desirability factor. It's easier to find rescue for Chis with super cool coloring or some kind of unique feature. When you're plain old tan or brown and look like every other Chi on the street, you get overlooked. It's easier to find rescue for super duper friendly Chis. If you've got half a brain in your head and prefer to warm up to people as you get to know them, you're a disappointment. So why in the world do we work so hard to save these less than desirable Chis that nobody wants and will be a struggle to get adopted? Why do we bother? Peppercorn's story explains it quite well.

Pepper's intake photo

Shelter staff found Peppercorn left in a box with some junky kibble outside the owner surrender door. He came in neutered and already knew how to sit on command, so it seems he belonged to someone at some point. We'll never know if his former owners were the people who left him in the box, or if someone else found him as a stray and turned him in like that. Either way, people failed Pepper somewhere along the line. He was terrified, fear aggressive, and shelter staff were unable to handle him to even find out if he was male or female. He was 938188, "Unknown" of "unknown age" and "unknown sex". This happens a lot, but his intake photo was so pathetic that I had to go check him out.

When I met Peppercorn, he was lying toward the back of his kennel on a blanket, throwing some serious side-eye shade just like in his intake photo. He let us leash him up and trotted out just fine. Once we got in the courtyard, he explored the perimeter and didn't show much interest in either of us. He responded well to treats and took them from me without breaking eye contact - still so distrustful, understandably. I pet him a couple times, but he made it clear that he preferred to keep his distance and sit a few feet from me. When it came time to put him back in his kennel, he flipped his lid and threw a tantrum about being leashed. It wasn't pretty. Still, something about him resonated with me. His eyes? Everyone says it's his eyes. I don't know. I think it's just that I know all too well the likely fate of these guys. That combined with being pretty certain that this was someone's dog at one point. I knew advocating this one wasn't going to be easy - he was a homely, unfriendly, average sized male Chihuahua who had nothing really going for him at all. That sounds awful, but it's the hard truth. I knew I had to break out the big guns and really find a way to pull on people's heartstrings if I wanted a shot at saving this one. And even then, I knew I'd be unlikely to succeed. So, I made the saddest video montage I could possibly manage and we began networking the dickens out of him. We settled on the name "Peppercorn" because he's small, black, and just a tad spicy. You've got to watch his sad video in order to appreciate his situation. I promise, there are happy ones to balance it. Here it is:

I don't usually make videos so sad like that, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It got people's attention. I can't do it like that every time, or it loses its effect. I usually like to make them happy and cute so that folks are more inclined to watch. When everything is sad and hard to watch, people stop paying attention. Fortunately, a little well-timed sadness proved helpful to Pepper. Turns out, Pepper's sad video got over 7,000 views thanks to San Jose Animal Advocates. Now we just needed the right person to see his video and feel moved enough to help us help him. The shelter staff extended his date so many times for me and kept working on socializing him. They made such a huge difference for Pepper - when we finally found someone interested in fostering him, he was practically a different dog thanks to the shelter staff's efforts. Had they not have spent time working with him, I seriously doubt the foster meet & greet would have gone so well. Tina and Alyssa - thank you. The potential foster mom brought her little long-haired Chihuahua (Marshmallow) to the shelter to meet Pepper, along with another "test" dog (Taco) to help break the ice. Check out what a difference the shelter staff made with him and how much he enjoyed meeting the other dogs:

After sleeping on it for a night, Jenna decided to foster Peppercorn. Turns out, even though he wouldn't let her pet him until an hour into our visit, she fell in love with his haunting eyes. Thanks to Jake's Wish Dog Rescue, I pulled him the next day and brought him home with me to get cleaned up. After a shower, a nail trim, and an ear cleaning, Pepper slept like a rock on his first night out of the shelter. We outfitted him with a proper collar and harness and delivered him to Jenna the next day.

We would not have been able to save this dog without Jenna. He had no rescue interest and we had no other foster candidates. He was so out of time it wasn't even funny. I had so little hope of saving him from the get go that I didn't even want to give him a name. Thank you, Georgia, for that. Because Jenna decided to take the plunge, Pepper gets to live.

Jenna has done an amazing job with Pepper so far. Taking on a difficult case like this as a first time foster mom is no small task. She's a rockstar and Pepper is showing so much progress day after day. He absolutely loves his foster brother, Marshmallow, and even adores his human foster sister, Alyssa. Alyssa is a special 12 year old - she has a deep understanding of animals and Pepper is obviously able to pick up on her sensitivity. Alyssa reports that Pepper loves head rubs and neck rubs. She even wrote his Petfinder page biography!

Peppercorn is getting closer to being ready for his forever home every day. He needs to go to a home with at least one other small dog. He values Marshmallow's companionship and draws a great deal of confidence and comfort from his presence. Little Marshy, at 2.8 pounds, is Pepper's role model. How cute is that?! He has brought Pepper out of his shell and helped remind him how to DOG, as we say. Pepper's really blossoming into a good little dog. He's learning to trust his people more each day and his behavior at home is really spot on. He's not a barker - even when his foster mom comes home after a long day at work, Pepper just quietly bounces up and down waiting for her affection. No barking, no crying. He takes his treats gently, eats his food like a champ, goes potty where he's supposed to, and goes straight into his crate at bedtime without hesitation. Don't believe it? See for yourself how far he's come in this video:

See? Told you his foster mom is a rockstar! The only thing Pepper is still working on is trusting people outside of the home. Remember, he's a little spicy as we say, so once he's had enough he lets you know he's done. That's ok though - it's very valuable to have a dog who gives good warnings like that. Growling is Pepper's way of communicating to us that he has had enough social time and would like his space now. That's honestly no different than with people. At home, he can go to his bed or his crate when he needs his space. He's doing a good job with that. When he's at an adoption event, it's a bit tougher for him to cope because there's no break from the action. So, Pepper needs all the help he can get finding a forever home. He needs people who can see past his scared exterior to the endearing little dog that lives beneath the facade. We know that may take some time, longer than most, but that's ok. We will wait as long as needed for Pepper's perfect match to find him. He has the luxury of time now, you see? Time, patience, love, and commitment. Those are so important to success for any dog, but especially for dogs like Pepper who need a little extra. Thank you, Jenna, for giving him these things in preparation for his furever. If you're interested in applying to adopt Pepper, please email info@jakeswishrescue.org for more information. In the meantime, please share this post, his videos, his photos, and his Petfinder page far and wide to help us find his furever home: https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/31950316

So, why do we bother with "undesirable" Chihuahuas like Peppercorn? Because they need our help the most. We worked overtime for Pepper because we knew there was more to him than sadness. He deserves a chance at happiness and comfort just as much as those three pound Chihuahuas, those happy go lucky puppies, those purebred pedigreed show dogs, and every other creature out there. He just needs a little extra help getting there. That's what we do. That's what rescue is all about. If I stop advocating dogs like Peppercorn, I lose a big part of my purpose. Thank you, Jake's Wish, for taking a stand with me and committing to yet another underdog like Peppercorn. Thank you, Jenna, for opening your home to him and working so hard to make him "desirable". His furever will come.

6/6/15 PUPDATE on Peppercorn: Drew

and I are now fostering Pepper. After spending a month with Jenna, he had to come to us when her dog started having health troubles. Pepper is still quite "peppery" (read: temperamental, cranky, particular, and prone to temper tantrums), but he is progressing a bit each day. He still spends most of his time in his crate (of his own volition - it's his comfort zone), but he's starting to come out more and more. His favorite spot is on the arm of the couch next to the sliding glass door where he can nap in the sun and watch hummingbirds drinking from the balcony feeder. He's becoming more open to cuddling and loves blankets. Once in a while, if he's in a good mood, he'll play a round of tug. For Pepper, tug involves a lot of nasty noises and frustration release. He still tries to get the other dogs to play with him, although they aren't interested. We are working on potty training - he still marks if we don't keep an eye on him. Pepper went to the vet last week and got a clean bill of health other than dental tartar. The vet said his ears look ragged because they were chewed up by another animal. Who knows for sure, but the bottom line is that there's nothing we can do to make them look better. They're just a testament to his hard knocks. Anyhow, Pepper isn't ready for adoption just yet, but he is making strides in that direction. We will continue to work on socialization and everyday coping skills in the meantime. It's going to be a challenge to get him adopted. We will need all the help we can get spreading the word about Pepper's plight. Stay tuned for more pupdates on Peppercorn!

8/3/15 UPDATE: After a couple months with us, Peppercorn's behavior seemed to plateau. He wasn't showing much improvement and seemed to be withdrawn all the time. He spent most of his time in his crate (voluntarily) or on a dog bed in a corner with his back toward everyone else. I began to wonder whether he'd do better as an only dog in a quieter home. We do have a lot of dogs and while he did ok with them, I wanted to make sure he had a chance to reach his full potential. He'd become super easy and part of our routine, so no extra bother to us, but he just wasn't becoming more adoptable. Given these observations, we made the decision to "trade" Peppercorn with another foster home in exchange for the two foster Chis that this other foster person had. He's now the only dog in his foster home and enjoys that immensely. When he comes to events and is around other dogs, he has the capacity to behave nicely around them because he's not burnt out from having so many dogs around constantly. His foster dad understands that he's not a snuggler and is completely ok with that. Pepper appreciates the space and respect he's given and they seem to really have a well-balanced relationship. He sleeps at the foot of his foster dad's bed and waits for him by the door when he comes home from work. Pepper prefers human males over females and he definitely seems to do better as an only critter. He needs an adopter who won't mind that he isn't overly affectionate - someone who doesn't want to cuddle much or pick him up and baby talk to him. That's just not his jam. And that's ok. So, I'm really glad he's doing well. It was hard to let him go, but this is definitely a step in the right direction for Peppercorn. Paws crossed we can find someone like his foster dad who is looking to adopt!

Shiva's Journey: From Struggles to Success

It'd been a while since we'd had a shepherd and Drew was itching for another one. It was just before Christmas and Jake's Wish Dog Rescue was in need of a new foster home for one of their dogs: a gorgeous female White Shepherd who needed crate rest for a month. Shiva came into rescue from the San Martin shelter, where she'd been dumped as an owner surrender because she grew bigger than expected. Shiva weighed 78 pounds at 10 months old. That is a BIG girl. She blew breed standards out of the water; a typical White Shepherd female weighs 55-65 pounds full grown. Still, what sort of jackwagon dumps their dog because she grew 15 pounds more than they expected? It's not like she was supposed to be small. Unfortunately, this happens a lot. Anyway, Shiva was adopted from the shelter and then returned the very next day because she didn't get along with the new people's dog right away. 24 hours. I guess they didn't feel like giving it a chance. So, after all of that disappointment early in life, Shiva ended up with Jake's Wish.

Pretty Lady

Back to why Shiva needed crate rest. The vet suspected a slight ACL injury and wanted to see if crate rest would make a difference before considering surgical repair. Her foster mom was about to go out of town, so we agreed to take Shiva (formerly Bella) and do our best to get her leg healed. Crate rest is tough on everyone involved: the dog and the foster parents. You feel guilty for keeping the dog in the crate all the time, even though that's exactly what needs to be done. The dog feels slighted, agitated, and stir crazy after a certain amount of time spent day after day in the cage. Add in the fact that Shiva was a large breed puppy and you can imagine we had our work cut out for us. We'd done our fair share of strict crate rest before for heartworm recovery patients, FHO recovery, and of course for Raven the GSD with her awful carpal wound. None of those dogs were puppies though, so we were a bit nervous about this one.

Raw bone palooza!

The lying tug strategy

The first week wasn't too bad. Jake's Wish stocked us up on raw bones, giant Kongs, dental chews, and all kinds of long lasting goodies to keep Shiva busy while in her crate. Once the novelty of those things began to wear off, we took her for tiny little walks to the end of the street and back in an attempt to burn some energy without straining her leg. I worked on commands with Shiva to exercise her mind - mental stimulation is just as important as physical activity. She learned sit, down, stay, wait, leave it, go to your bed, and other basic rules of the house with ease. When she got crazy, I'd pull up a chair in front of her crate and work with her on these commands for 15 minutes at a time. It helped, but she still had so much restless puppy energy. Going for car rides helped a lot - she loved sticking her head out the window and

Car rides for fresh air

watching the world pass by with the wind in her face. It helped to just get her out of the house for a brief minute without fear of her over-doing it. She also learned how to play tug lying down. When you weigh that much, it's actually a pretty solid strategy. She'd hold onto the rope and just plop down on the ground, letting the other dog try to drag her dead weight across the room. That was entertaining for everyone. In the evenings, we like to gather up the dogs and watch TV as a family for a bit. Normally we wouldn't let a Shepherd up on the couch, as it's a pretty bad habit for such a big dog to develop, but TV time with the family was a good opportunity for Shiva to feel included and get some love without being wound up. So in all of these little ways, we made it work. Slowly but surely, Shiva's leg got stronger.

It wasn't always friendly tug of war and snuggles on the couch. Shiva was really not ok with our dogs when she first arrived. We had flashbacks to Raven, the only dog out of 30 fosters that we weren't able to integrate, and feared Shiva might be the second. It took a lot of work, vigilance, caution, and patience to integrate Shiva with our dogs. We honestly weren't sure it could be done at first, but with time and baby steps we saw her develop into a wonderful dog. She learned how to behave around each of our dogs, learned when enough was enough in terms of play, learned who preferred to be left alone, learned to look out for the little ones underfoot, and learned not to use her giant paws to bat during playtime. We worked on integration for just a little bit every evening so as to not get anybody's nerves frazzled. It's very difficult to overcome negative interactions once they happen, so we wanted to set everyone up for success as much as possible. Before long, Shiva became just another dog in our pack. We are proud of ourselves for that. Drew deserves most of the credit - integration is his magic power. It's amazing to look back to day one at the dog who couldn't control herself at the sight of any of our dogs, then compare that to the snuggly baby girl who lived to play and cuddle with her canine buddies two months later. She became best friends with Kato, the neighbor Shepherd, too. Shepherds can be really tough to integrate, especially with other non-Shepherd dogs, but I'm convinced it helps a ton when you start with a dog who has little life experience as opposed to a dog who already has habits and behaviors ingrained. Raven was 3-4 years old and had been through a lot. Not to say you can't teach an older dog new tricks or work to overcome a difficult past, but it wasn't worth risking safety in that case. Shiva, although she'd had a couple stints in animal control, didn't really seem like she'd been through anything that formed negative associations in her mind. She just needed to learn manners and how to properly behave around others. Overstimulation is much different than aggression or possessiveness - it's much more workable for us. Points for the puppy! We'd make this work yet. Check out the video of Shiva playing gently with another [tiny] Jake's Wish foster dog, Mischa:

Tired Shivers

After a month of crate rest, Shiva's leg didn't bother her anymore. She started going to an awesome doggy daycare each day to burn steam and get more socialization. We Dog Care was a great experience for Shiva. They let Jake's Wish foster dogs attend unlimited daycare for free. This was a lifesaver for us, because we are nowhere near active enough for Shiva's energy needs. She'd come home after a day's worth of play and just flop down exhausted. This improved her relationships with our dogs immensely. She didn't feel the need to harass them for play all the time, so they grew more relaxed around her. We were able to work on obedience with her more effectively when she didn't have so much pent up energy. All in all, the household dynamic finally hit its sweet spot. Then Shiva got sick.

Shiva went from being perfectly fine one day to sick as the proverbial dog the next. She had the worst explosive diarrhea I've ever seen and it just wouldn't stop. She had no energy whatsoever. On top of that, she developed a nasty cold. Her immune system was just demolished by some mystery bug. No parasites, no worms, no idea. She couldn't go to daycare being so sick, which was ok with her for the first few days. Once we got her GI issues under control (still no clue what it was), her cold became an upper respiratory infection. So, antibiotics for that, which upset her stomach again. It was a less than lovely week in our house. Her energy began to return, but she was still snotting green goop and having a hard time breathing clearly. She needed to stay out of daycare for another week, at least. This was a super frustrating period. We'd come so far with Shiva, only to be blindsided by this bout of illness and watch her behavior backslide due to the absence of her energy outlet. Next thing we know, Shiva's limping again. She'd been so sick that she'd hardly moved, so we knew she hadn't injured it. It wasn't the same sort of limp, either. This seemed to be her hip, not her knee. A couple days later, she began limping on her front right leg as well. At first I figured she was sore from compensating for the back leg, but the front just became worse and worse until she just laid in her crate all day. We were flabbergasted. Usually we take them in, see them through whatever illnesses / injuries / issues they have, then send them on their way to happily ever after. We'd done our job just as well as we always do in this case, but we'd hit an unexpected road block that sent us back to square one.

You mean I'll be ok, doc?

It was time for a serious trip to the vet. When her x-rays came back clean, I really began to worry.  I was scared it had to be some sort of autoimmune issue causing this recurring lameness. Multiple limbs, different joints, on and off again. We ran a bunch of blood tests - nothing. It was just so bizarre. In light of all the negative test results, the vet concluded that Shiva was simply suffering from panosteitis: basically retroactive growing pains. The great majority of panosteitis cases present in male German Shepherds between 1-3 years old. Shiva is obviously female, but she is much larger than the typical female Shepherd. Panosteitis involves intense bone inflammation with pain and stiffness that comes and goes as flare-ups. There's nothing to do about it except use an anti-inflammatory during flare-ups. It will go away on its own with time. We breathed a great sigh of relief that Shiva wasn't plagued by some sort of left field autoimmune disease or horrible joint injuries that would destroy her life. She was going to be just fine.

Once we knew Shiva was ok, we could finally carry on with her adoption process. We'd gotten loads of applications for her, but very few of them were good. When you've got a dog who is show-stoppingly gorgeous, not to mention a fairly unusual breed, you can expect to be flooded with applications of the "she's so pretty, I want her!" variety. 9 times out of 10, those applications are as good as garbage. Shepherds are not for everyone. They are a lot of work, cost a lot of money, and require a lot of doggy know-how. We wanted Shiva to go to someone who knew Shepherds - someone we could feel confident knew exactly the sort of commitment Shiva needed. 

Just as Shiva fell ill, we got a winning application. We told the woman we wanted to wait until she was healthy to do a meet and greet. She was perfectly understanding. When we had to tell her Shiva had fallen lame again, we thought for sure she'd take a hike. She didn't! This lady waited patiently while we tested Shiva for everything under the sun. She still wanted her. We were stressed, but we knew if she bailed that it would be ok. We'd wait for the best home for Shiva, whatever it took. Turns out, this lady was the best home for Shiva. She had a male White Shepherd who passed away at 9 years old and knew exactly what she was signing up for by committing to Shiva. Bingo. She's a hiker and she even works from home. Awesome. We couldn't ask for more and we know Shivrar is just so happy with her new mom. 

Shiva was a very interesting challenge for us. Shepherds are always tough for us. We've got small dogs and we're relatively sedentary. We knew all of that already, but Shiva presented a whole extra set of challenges. I'm super proud of us for working through this one and finally ending up with a happy tail. Shiva became such a good, sweet, gentle girl. It was a pleasure to watch her go from an unruly pup to a well-mannered lady. She celebrated her 1st birthday with us on January 30 and I know she'll have several more wonderful years to enjoy life. We're grateful for Jake's Wish, for Shiva's first foster mom, and for We Dog Care. This one took a village, but it was such a rewarding effort. We love you, ShivRAAAAAR! Wag on, Great White Woman!

Shiva & her favorite toy: Mr. Purp

What's left of Mr. Purp

A word on Mr. Purp, the 3 foot long purple caterpillar. This toy was enormous and Shiva loved plush toys, so duh. It was a match made in heaven. Mr. Purp giggled maniacally every time Shiva kill-shook him. It was a bit disturbing. We are still finding pieces of Mr. Purp. He made the ultimate sacrifice and we'll never forget him.

Coco's Story

The next few posts I publish are going to be looking backward all the way to August in an attempt to catch up. I don't want to leave any fosters out! After Buck left for New Mexico, we took in Miss Coco, a cute little diva with a whole lotta attitude. Coco had a ton of nicknames that reflected two sides of her personality: crazy and fussy. Coocoo, Poof, Poofy, Coco Poof, Puff, Coocoo Brain, Coco Loco, Coco Latte, etc. Coco was picked up as a stray by a shelter volunteer near Berryessa & 680. That's a very high-traffic spot. Coco, as beautiful as she is, did not pass the shelter's behavior assessment. This landed her on the needs rescue list, so St. Francis APS stepped in.

Coco came to us after cycling through a couple different foster homes. She proved to be a very tricky girl who needed a lot of socialization work. She looks so cute and innocent, doesn't she? That was the tough thing about Coco. Everyone would approach with their hands stuck out to pet her, assuming that because she was small and fluffy she'd accept their physicality with grace. Not so much. Even after working with Coco for weeks, she'd still bare her teeth and snap at everyone if they got too close.  We were no exception. She could be the sweetest thing, then just snap at the drop of a hat if something rubbed her the wrong way. It became clear that Coco really wanted to be an only dog. She'd pick fight over flight every single time. She was uncomfortable at our house with all of our guys. It was a weird experience watching her just sort of plateau after a while instead of improving. Of course we saw certain improvements while we had her like potty training, leash walking, sleeping quietly through the night, etc, but she never really blossomed. You could just tell she needed something she wasn't getting from us: space.

Coco at the shelter

The cute little fluffy-eared angel became one of our group's toughest dogs to get adopted. It was an exercise in patience and paying very close attention to canine communication. Coco's body language was always very clear: she was uncomfortable, on edge, nervous, and stressed. Almost all the time. She couldn't go to a home with very young children. She needed to be an only dog, yet she wasn't going to make a good "first time" dog due to her issues. She did so poorly at adoption events that we stopped taking her for liability reasons. How the heck were we going to get this dog adopted? Sure, she's cute and can be sweet at home, but she requires everything done on her own terms. Her foster parents, all of us, were the only people she ever let see her lovable side. It was there, trust me. Coco loves to play with toys, runs like the wind, bounces off the furniture, and gets super excited when we come home from work. The challenge was getting her to let others in enough to see that side of her. 

Goofy Coco

Fortunately, one of our rescue friends and fellow foster parents stepped in to help. She wanted to try fostering Coco and see if she did any better at her house. She only has one other dog and her house is much quieter than ours. I was a bit hesitant at first, as I really like to see things through and it felt weird, but we agreed. Coco went to Cathy's house and did quite well. They walked our downtown area with the adopt-me vest on and showed off Coco's good looks at every chance. After about a month with Cathy, Coco found her forever home. She lives with a family that has two older children and no other dogs. She's doing great!

People often asked us what happened to Coco to make her so snippity. For all we know, nothing happened. She wasn't well-socialized, didn't have any people skills, and didn't know how to be a house dog. That may very well be all. A dog who shows fear or poor social skills hasn't necessarily been abused or "gone through something". It may just be a dog who needs time, patience, love, and work in order to learn how to trust. I think this was the case with Coco. 


This is a perfect example of why we should never judge a book by its cover and ALWAYS ask before approaching someone's dog. Just because Coco looked adorable and happy doesn't mean she wanted to be petted by a stranger. You just never know. If you ever see a yellow ribbon attached to a dog's leash, it means they need space and prefer not to be approached. Please be mindful of this and teach your children these lessons, too. Some dogs are friendly from the get-go, but others might take some time to warm up. I'm definitely the latter type of person. Maybe I'll tie a yellow ribbon around my neck...

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