Rory's Story

After haircut!

Before haircut...

Rewind to February 2019. It'd been almost a year and a half since Phinneas died and we had about zero interest in fostering since then. I'd fully immersed myself in my new job as a veterinary assistant and had nothing in the way of extra energy outside of work. Drew's travel took a serious uptick and fostering honestly didn't even register as a blip on our radar. Then came Rory.

Rory's story began as a puppy named Ross, when Ruff Dog Rescue found him and his sister abandoned in a metro Atlanta park. Rory got adopted from Ruff Dog at about six months old. His mom loved him dearly and Rory never left her side. Rory received his regular veterinary care from the hospital I worked at, so all my co-workers knew him well. I met Rory in November 2018 under very sad circumstances: his mom had a brain aneurysm and Rory came in to our hospital for emergency boarding while she had surgery. Rory's weekend stay quickly turned into a long-term, indefinite situation; his mom's recovery was not going as planned. After living in our hospital kennel for two weeks, we were able to contact Ruff Dog Rescue and secure a temporary foster home for Rory. He deserved a comfortable home environment for the holidays while waiting for his mom to recover. Not all rescues would have come to Rory's aid like this just because he'd fallen on hard times; there isn't always a space in foster care available or enough resources at hand. Ruff Dog pulled together and made it happen for him - thank you, RDR.

 

Rory sporting a blue mohawk at an event

Those butt pads though...

Unfortunately, Rory's mom's health took a turn for the worse. Three months after surgery, she still required a ventilator and had only just begun to sit up in her bed. She transferred to an acute care facility and Rory was not allowed to visit. His first foster mom needed a reprieve, so Drew and I tagged in to take Rory for a while. As Rory stayed with us in a state of limbo, we all dedicated ourselves to working on his weight problem. At his heaviest, Rory tipped the scales at a morbidly obese 102 pounds. Proper nutrition and adequate exercise made all the difference. While in boarding, Rory lost the first significant chunk of weight just from having structure: this is what you get to eat, when you get to eat it, and how much of it you get to eat, the end. No more people food, no free grazing, and no Big Gulp sized food cup. His first foster mom, Kristen, brought his weight down from the upper eighties to 76 pounds in the three months she had him. Three more months with us brought him all the way down to a svelte 54 pounds, his goal weight. You read that right: 102 to 54 in six months' time. That's 50% of his body weight - HALF OF RORY - chiseled away. Weight loss like this has to be done carefully, slowly, and in a calculated manner in order to be achieved safely. It's a lot of shock on the body to lose that much, and losing too much too quickly can be dangerous for the heart.

Rory's extreme makeover!

Keeping Rory on a low calorie food and constantly adjusting his food calculations as he continued to lose proved key. It's not like we ran marathons or anything - this is simply the difference appropriate feeding makes. I say all of this without judgment; we live in the South where food equals love in many people's minds. We call them "love feeders". All the veterinary consultation in the world sometimes isn't enough to make folks understand that dogs will almost always try to convince us they're starving - they're not. We had clients come in concerned that their obese family lab wasn't finishing his meals. My boss would tell them that he's "pushing away from the table" (i.e., he's full!) and that's him telling you he's had enough. No, you don't need to add gravy to entice him to finish his kibble. Really, he's good. There truly are only two ways an animal gets fat, excepting medical conditions: too much food and too little exercise. It's a straightforward concept, yet companion animal obesity is a pervasive problem we continue to see. Rory wrote the book and earned lovingly rude nicknames from us such as "house hippo" or "the great white whale" or "roropotamus". We actually had to pen him out of the dining room while we ate dinner to keep him from begging at the table!

I remember the first time Rory solicited a game of fetch. He'd never done this before; I threw the rope and he brought it back, giddy to repeat the process. I realized this meant he finally felt physically GOOD. That was a really rewarding moment as a foster mom. From this point on, there was no stopping him. Rory had arrived - and what he'd lost in body weight, BOY, did he make up for in personality! This boy trucked over everything in his path like the proverbial bull in the china shop. He found his voice, too. I'm still not sure what his breed mix is, but I have to think there may be some husky in there with the way he talks! [For the record, I think he is a pit / wheaten mix]. Rory has something to say about everything that goes on during the day. He is a talker, a lover, a people person, a real mush. During the time he spent with us, Rory became my shadow; he followed me around like a fluffy white cloud. Every time I'd have friends over - particularly girls - Rory plopped himself down right in front of them and shamelessly begged for love. He knows no such thing as personal space or too much affection, but now he knows structure and a healthy lifestyle!

After it became clear that Rory's mom was not going to recover to the extent that she'd be able to take him back, we began to look for a new forever home for our scruffy white ward. Rory came to us with zero leash manners, zero dog social skills, and zero understanding of how to act in group settings. Despite our hard work, he just did not show well at adoption events. People's fascination with his unique looks and the emotional pull of his sad story quickly evaporated into horror if another dog approached. Rory became possessive of his admirers, felt socially pressured, and exploded into high-pitched shrieks and off-putting snarls. Instantly, the endearingly quirky Heinz 57 who looked a mutant Jack Russell terrier morphed into a pit-mix scruff dragon who could convince anyone that he'd in fact eaten a whole family of Jackies. Sigh. All the creative marketing in the world, all the volunteer hours spent at events, and all the meet and greets I could muster would not matter an ounce if it wasn't the right fit for Rory...and then my sister spoke up.

 Ashley and Shawn met Rory a handful of times over the spring and summer, both with and without their three dogs: Bubba, Bellatrix LeStrange, and Sirius Black. They both were clearly taken with Rory's goofiness and affectionate nature, but I had no idea how serious they were about him until I'd just about given up hope. They'd fallen hard - and did I mention Rory didn't mind their dogs? Quite the opposite: he actually PLAYED with their dogs and for some reason blended right in like the fourth member of a zany jazz quartet. It hit me: my sister and her pack are exactly Rory's brand of crazy. After a whole lot of real talk and some logistical planning, Drew and I jumped into the car and hand delivered Rory to his new home in Florida. It was a seamless transition and it was right under our noses the whole time. Sometimes when it works, it just works. And that's the conclusion of this former white whale's tale. Happy forever, Rory! You deserve this so much!

Epilogue: We'd never done a foster case quite like this before with regard to the surrounding human element. Rory's former mom transferred to an assisted living facility up north near her family.  I don't want anything I've written here to come across as insensitive toward her circumstances or her love for Rory. Rory's - and his mom's - situation absolutely broke my heart. I can't imagine her sadness, her worry, her fears for him. I grappled with the implications of all of this for some time, hating that life dealt her such a terrible hand. All I can hope is that she knows Rory is happy, healthy, and loved forever.

Double Update: Rory's mom passed away in May; we didn't know until September, after he'd been adopted. I didn't know what to make of this at first, but I quickly chalked it up to Rory's serendipitous fate. Heartbreakingly sad as it may be, Rory's story worked out in the end. I'm so glad we worked proactively to give this guy a chance at a new future. Dogspeed to his former mama, and dogspeed to Rory and his future!

They Say Love is Blind...Meet Hope!

Hope on an adventure at Home Depot

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!

Meet Koa: An Itty Bitty Happy Pittie!

Such sparkly eyes!

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

To learn more about advocacy for misunderstood dog breeds, click here: http://imnotamonster.org/