This living teddy bear is Charlie Brown! He's got quite a story behind him: this was his THIRD stint in San Jose animal control. Charlie first arrived as a stray, then was adopted out, then came back a second time as a stray, was adopted again, and came back this third time as a stray yet again. Clearly he's a door darter, although I never once had him try to Houdini out of the backyard or anything like that. CB's background is a classic example of the importance of screening for quality adopters. Just about anyone can walk into the shelter, pay $10, sign a form, and walk right out with a dog. Sure, it could've been a door dart situation that can happen to anyone, or they might not have realized that CB is definitely not a suitable off-leash dog, or any number of potential things you just can't screen for. Oftentimes it isn't the right dog for them, and that's assuming they're even qualified to give a dog a good home at all. Unfortunately these things happen with open adoption policies. So although CB likely would have gone up for adoption again for a third time (he had a fatty mass that was delaying his push-through process), I saw him and his history and decided that he deserved a proper chance at a good life with a controlled outcome rather than yet another roll of the dice. The rest is history! Charlie turned out to be a wonderful dog who is great with everyone; it's just that not everyone makes a great dog owner. He can tell you firsthand! Charles, Brown, CB, Chuck, Mr. Brown - no matter what we called him, he came running with a zest for life! Charlie has an absolutely fantastic personality. Everyone who met him loved him and his whacky little hoarse squawking. Schipperkes often sound like that; we think he is mixed with some Chi or something a bit smaller. He's the spunkiest little guy and super loves to play...especially with laser pointers! We bought him a crazy laser machine and he went utterly bananas over it, so much so that I only let him use it for less than 3 minutes at a time because it drove him that berserk. Check out the video...it's insane.
Irresistible!
Charlie has the most flufftastic fur and such a darling face - everyone said he looked just like a little teddy bear! He sure snuggles like one, too. You could hug him all day long and he'll be your best friend forever. That dog will snuggle anytime, anywhere! Oh, and he is a bit of a food hog...his shelter medical notes actually said that he ate a cheeseburger. I'm not sure when or how, if it was one of the tech's lunches or what, but he swiped a burger at the shelter apparently. Crafty little critter! We actually had another Schipperke mix in the St. Francis foster program at the same time (not living with us, but we watched him a couple times). Skipper is a spitting image of CB, except all black and a little older. The two of them together were hilarious entertainment. They remind me of those old wind up toy hamsters that take a couple jerky moves backward before zinging forward with a great burst of energy! That's pretty much CB's MO. Nutball!
100% Adorable
Charlie spent February through the first part of June with us, even though he was supposed to just be an "overnighter"...whoops. That fell through and we just loved him; he fit in so well, so why make him move if he had no other place to go? I was grateful for the time to enjoy his antics, even though we had a very crowded house at the time (our three, Shrimp & Grits, CB, and the occasional vacation relief foster guest). We couldn't understand why it took so long for him to be adopted, and frankly I still can't figure it out! What matters isn't his past or any of that, but that he ended up with an absolutely wonderful woman named Evelyn as his forever mommy. He goes everywhere with her and truly is her best friend. I love this dog; he is one of my favorites. I'm so glad he gets to be cherished, finally! Happy life, Mr. Brown!
Meet Hope, a gorgeously unique American Staffordshire Terrier mix available for adoption through Fred's Friends Rescue. At one year old, Hope is fully grown at 38 pounds. She's a nice pocket-sized Staffie. She came into animal control back in March as a stray found wandering the streets. See those big, clear, green eyes? They don't work. At all. Turns out, Hope is blind as a bat. She seems to have been born that way. She also has a severe heart condition, pulmonic stenosis, that requires daily medication. Her cardiologist said that with the severity of her condition, Hope may live up to two years or she may live a full life. In other words, who knows. Given her blindness and heart condition, Fred's Friends suspects she is a product of bad breeding. Oddly enough, being blind (and thus relatively slow-going) sort of works in her favor with regard to keeping her heart from exploding.
Hope on her favorite bed
Fred's Friends reached out to us about taking Hope when her previous foster family had to move suddenly. We're good friends with one of their volunteers who knew we'd fostered a blind dog (Buck) before and she thought we'd be a good fit for Hope. Special needs dogs hold a special place in our hearts - it's how we started fostering and it's what we enjoy most. We've gotten away from that for quite some time now, so it's nice to do a special needs case again. So, Hope moved in with us last Sunday. We have a lot of stairs in our house and they have a lot of twists and turns. Hope learned how to go up the stairs on her first day here, no problem. Going downstairs proved to be a bit trickier, but she got the hang of that on day three. Now she goes up and down without any difficulty for every potty break, every meal, and every time she decides to follow us up or down. Just like with Buck, she'll run into something if it's moved out of place. That's to be expected and it just makes us keep things tidier; we are diligent about pushing our chairs in and not leaving things out in the middle of the floor. She knows where all the dog beds are around the house, where the water bowl is, where the stairs are, and where the gates are that block off the stairs. She also knows where the toy basket is and enjoys rooting through it on a regular basis. Hope loves her toys! She piles them up on her dog bed so she doesn't misplace them. Every now and then she'll forget where she put one or another dog will move one and she gets confused about it. It's entertaining. You can practically see the, "Hey, that's not where I left you!" look cross her face when she stumbles over a rogue toy. She likes squeakers, but she also likes bouncy toys because she can hear where they go as they bounce across the wood floor. She loves going for walks, too. We usually take her for a 1-2 mile walk each day, sometimes twice per day. She does well on leash and enjoys the fresh air. Other things Hope loves: cuddles, treats, antlers, meal time, naps, and her people. Emphasis on naps though. She really loves naps.
Who you callin' a goofball?
So yeah, Hope is a pretty easy dog. She's quite mellow and really isn't any different than a "normal" dog with sight. Sure, she'll get spooked by strange or loud noises every now and then and she may run into stuff in new environments, but that's pretty much it. Her blindness doesn't get in her way much at all. She gets really excited when she "finds" us around the house and likes to celebrate by licking the backs of our legs. She likes that our two foster Chihuahuas wear cat collars that have bells on them, so she knows where they are at all times. She goes potty in the yard just like everyone else and abides by "big dog" rules (no couch, no human bed). She knows "sit" and understands "step" for curbs and stairs. She knows what "leave it" means and is learning how to apply it. She has free roam of the house when we're away, along with our two old guys, and does just fine. She's not a troublemaker and she's not a barker. She does make this really cool wookie noise when she wants something! It's sort of her signature yodel. She does it when she wants to play, wants attention, wants to go for a walk, wants to eat, or just wants to be a goofball. It's pretty fantastic. Check out her video and get to hear her wookie yodel for yourself:
Having a blind dog isn't necessarily a greater challenge than having a sighted dog. It's more of an exercise in patience and compassion. It forces you to slow down and consider things more carefully from the dog's perspective. Hope is a great dog. She just needs someone who will treat her like a normal dog and not coddle her excessively because of her disabilities. If an adopter can understand that, they'll get a fantastic companion in return. In our house, all dogs are given boundaries, structure, and equal love. Hope is expected to toe the line just like all the rest and she does. With so many dogs around, newbies figure out their place pretty quickly. Hope needed some extra help learning the ropes up front, but now she's got it down pat. She seems pretty darned happy about it, too. We're sure happy to have her around! Hope is a gem and it is a pleasure to have her as part of our pack for a while. If you'd like to fill out an adoption application for Hope, please follow this link: http://www.fredsfriends.org/adoption-application.html
PUPDATE: Hope was adopted on October 21, 2015 by a wonderful couple! Her new mama works in child development with special needs children, so she was very ready to accept Hope's variety of challenges. Her words: "I work with special needs kids. This shouldn't be much different and if it is, I'm used to a good challenge!". Things were a bit rocky after several months for Hope when the couple learned they had a baby on the way, but they stayed true to their pledge to stand by Hope's side, challenges included, and found ways to make things work for their growing family. We are happy for Hope...she's a special girl who so deserves a loving family!
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!
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
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.
Douille's story very nearly had an entirely different ending. I was sent to the shelter with a list of dogs to look at for rescue. As I walked from kennel to kennel with one of the shelter staff members, I asked her if she had any super tiny Chihuahuas that needed out. It's easier to find rescue for Chis that weigh less than 4 pounds, so I always ask. She thought for a minute, said not really, then showed me this perky brown blob of a Chihuahua that was WAY over the "ultra teeny" mark: 10.4 pounds. Rescue only due to obesity. Picked up as a stray on Branham & Pearl. I must have looked at her like she was nuts because she shrugged, said he's really nice, then took me to the next kennel on the list. I did my assessments for each dog on my list and made my way to the front to say goodbye. She asked me, "What about that chubby brown chi I showed you?" and I told her he didn’t fit my criteria, but I'd ask around. After I got home and wrote up my notes, I thought of chunky chi again. I added a super short blurb to my assessments just mentioning his A#, stuck in a photo of his kennel card, and called it a day.
Love that scrunchy little nose!
The next morning I had an email from my shelter friend asking if I'd come up with anything for chubby brown chi. I realized I'd screwed up - this little dog really mattered to her and I'd missed all the signals. When you work at the shelter, it's really hard to let yourself get attached to any of the animals because it so often doesn't end well. You have to maintain a certain edge, a level of callousness, a protective shell. This particular lady is probably the toughest person they've got working there. She does her job really well and does rescue work on her own time, but she's not exactly warm and fuzzy. I asked her to show me any tiny chis and she casually pointed to the exact opposite of what I'd asked - like it was no big deal. Hello! I didn't even bother to take him out and snap a picture. Fail. All of a sudden, I couldn't get this dog out of my mind. Cue mad rampage of desperate networking for chubby brown chi! Wait, I probably need a better photo than his intake mugshot and I should probably come up with a name other than 920830 or "fat brown chi", huh? Back to the shelter I went to meet the chunk.
Looking trim, Douille!
The shelter lady was super excited that I’d come back to check out her chubby friend. She was talking about him the whole way to his kennel, telling me how he may be overweight and just another Chihuahua, but that he’d wow people with his personality. She was right. We brought him out of his kennel and he was just nothing but happiness and wiggles. He went up to every dog we walked past with a tail wag and kisses, trying to make friends with everyone. His personality certainly won me over and I knew I had to get him out. I snapped some photos, got a video, & got to work.
The handsomest sausage that ever lived
Days went by with no foster or rescue offers for the fat brown chi. I’d extended his date twice and really needed to get him out ASAP. With the help of a rescue friend and Drew’s go-ahead, I pulled him under a cat rescue and brought him home with me. He needed a name, stat. Fat brown chi wasn’t going to net him any adopters. Drew wanted to name him Sausage Cakes, but yeah…so we settled on Douille, short for Andouille sausage because he was so porky. Of course he ended up with a slew of nicknames: Dooers, Doodle, Sausage Cakes, DooDoo Brain, The Chocolate Flab, Sausage Pants, and of course THE Sausage King of San Jose. I created a Facebook page for him, took a photo of him wearing a bow-tie, and started sharing his story like crazy.
Douille out on a walk
First things first: we needed a weight loss plan. Douille weighed 10.4 pounds when he should have weighed more like 6-7. That is a monstrous percentage of his body weight. We started with daily walks. Douille couldn't make it very far at first, like to the end of the block and barely back. We slowly worked our way up to down the block and around the corner. I changed his diet to Blue's Senior Turkey Basics. Turkey is super lean and eliminating grains helps with weight control. I chose a senior formula (for a 3 year old dog) because I wanted Douille to have plenty of joint and heart support while losing weight. Such a dramatic weight loss can be tough on the body. Between the walks, a change in nutrition, and playing with our dogs, Douille began to shed weight. We noticed he had more of a neck, more energy, and breathed easier. His luxating patellae and hip mobility also improved greatly as he continued to lose weight. His "fast mode" as my shelter friend called it was actually kind of fast now! We were making big progress.
The Sausage King of San Jose
We enjoyed having Douille around the house immensely. He was just such a jolly little character and so, so, so sweet. I'd never met such a happy go lucky Chihuahua before! He'd make friends with everyone - people, dogs, cats, anyone. He absolutely loved other dogs, particularly big dogs. He'd run right up to any dog - stranger or not - and just smother them with kisses right off the bat. Stupidly adorable. He became BFF with our Hound/Lab mix, Oliver, and they spent their days romping around like goons. He also enjoyed the heck out of Boomer, another foster we had for a bit. You can see for yourself just how endearing and playful he was in the video below.
My friend at the shelter was absolutely correct: Douille had one of the most winning personalities I've come across in a dog, especially in a Chihuahua! He was dumber than a bag of rocks, but just so adorably loving. Then there's that incredibly kissable overbite, OMG. Love it! He's just a fantastic little critter. Really, truly, genuinely extra special.
Douille with his new family!
After fostering Douille for a month, we got a great adoption application from some folks in San Francisco through Jake's Wish Dog Rescue. They were kind enough to courtesy list Douille on their website and Petfinder so we could spread the word about this cheerful little chunker. The applicants drove down to San Jose on a rainy evening and met me and Douille at my store. They totally fell in love - Douille definitely wowed them with his personality, just as my shelter friend said he would! He snuggled into his new mom's neck right away when she picked him up. He fell asleep there while I helped them pick out some good food and supplies. He seemed right at home with all of them, which put my heart at ease.We placed Douille on the scale in my store before saying goodbye. He weighed 7.4 pounds - three pounds lighter than when we pulled him! That's 30% of his body weight lost in only a month's time, which is a bit faster than I would've liked it to happen, but really great. The vet said his ultimate weight goal should be 6.8 pounds, so I felt good about letting him go to his forever home at this point. He lives in San Francisco with his mom, her two roommates, and the roommates' Mastiff puppy, Chester. Remember how much Douille loves big dogs? I was so excited to send him home with Chester! They can be lazy buddies forever.
Love that overbite!
Before leaving the store, Douille picked out his very own bed. His mom put a bunch of cat beds on the floor and Douille climbed into the most expensive one, naturally. He refused to get out. In fact, they had to carry him to the car in the bed. His mom put her scarf around him and he cozied right up, settling in for the rainy car ride home. His new name is Dewey, same pronunciation as Douille, but easier to spell and no longer an ode to fatty sausage. I think it's perfect. We got an email from Dewey's mom just after Christmas. She said he's doing great so far and fitting in beautifully with the family. When I shared her email and photos with my shelter friend, Douille's #1 advocate, she said the news made her entire year.
Hugging Douille goodbye
Douille was super special and I had a hard time saying goodbye, but the hardest part of all was thinking about how close I came to not saving this little nugget. I so almost missed the boat completely and cost Douille his precious little life. Thank goodness for my shelter friend's heart and for her persistence. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have noticed Douille. I passed over him and he almost paid the ultimate price. That's the thought that made me shed a couple tears, not the goodbye. Douille's story will always be a great reminder to me of how delicate this rescue business really is, how we are the only voices for these guys, how we carry the power to save or end their lives, and how we must never get too busy or jaded that we make such costly oversights. I almost failed Douille, yet all he knows is happiness and love. That's one of so many reasons why I love dogs. Thank you for your love, Douille!
Pet obesity is no laughing matter. Being overweight can severely affect your pet's health. This goes for both dogs and cats. Chunky pets may be cute, but honestly it's not ok. Douille, for example, was suffering from breathing difficulty and mobility challenges. His joints were strained, his heart was working overtime, and he was unadoptable because of it. These are serious issues that shouldn't be taken lightly. Make sure you're feeding your pets a proper diet, following the feeding guidelines on the bag/can (they differ from food to food!), providing adequate exercise opportunity, and attending regular vet check-ups. The Association for Pet Obesity Prevention has two great illustrations that are useful for knowing how your pet's weight stacks up against medical ideals, as well as several other informative resources. Check it out here: http://www.petobesityprevention.org/pet-weight-check/
