Phinneas: Happiness in the Now

The Five Foundlings (Phinneas far right)

We cannot save them all. I know - it's a harsh and depressing first sentence, but it's true. Phinneas's story is different from all my others: it doesn't have a happy ending. Friends keep telling me that it isn't fair [when we lose them] and it never is, but this one really isn't fair. Phinneas got caught in death's boomerang; he stared down ill fate with his tiny determination and then rallied against it only for it to swoop back and claim him in the end anyway. Death's boomerang.

Leonard's fleas

So yeah, it's sad and not the typical feel-good plot, but I'm going to tell his story anyway because otherwise he only exists in my memory and I can't allow that. I promise there are glimmers of happiness that shine through the tragedy; I'll do my best to illuminate them. The beginning of Phin's story as we know it is bleak, naturally, as rescues usually are. Perfect Pets Rescue received a phone call saying five chihuahuas had been found abandoned in the closet of a vacant apartment unit without food or water. Huddled together in a flea infested pile, the "five foundlings" survived their nightmarish neglect for who knows how long. PPR took them in and renamed them Mortimer, Rose, Leonard, Blanche, and Phinneas because they all looked like they should have the most classically geriatric names possible. I saw Phin's photo and offered to foster him, as I'm a sucker for projects and his skin clearly needed the most work.

Top: first photo of Phinneas
Bottom: rockin' the PJs

Phinneas came to us completely hairless with lava red skin that was hot and greasy to the touch. I had folks ask if we shaved him this way or if he had mange. The fleas did this to him. It's called flea allergy dermatitis - basically a hyper histamine reaction to flea saliva (read: bites) which in this case irritated Phin's system so much that he "dropped" his coat (severe alopecia). Constant scratching allowed bacteria to penetrate the skin's barrier and cause infection to set in, giving him a nasty odor and open sores. His initial bloodwork looked shockingly clean - I expected much worse given his condition and the stress his tiny little body had endured. He had four teeth, two good looking canines and two horrendous molars in need of extraction. The dental, neuter, and vaccines would have to wait until we got his skin infection and overall inflammation under control. We undertook a heavy duty course of antibiotics for the skin infection and twice weekly medicated baths to knock down the bacteria. I applied some extremely diluted essential oils to topically soothe his inflamed skin and made him wear long-sleeved pajamas to keep from relentlessly scratching. Despite his misery, he craved human affection. He never seemed afraid in our house even with all the other dogs and the foreign surroundings; he just calmly observed everything going on around him and begged for snuggles. I'm mildly ashamed to admit that I donned gloves to touch him and wrapped him in towels as a prerequisite for cuddling for the first week we had him. He was Grade A "yick", but oh so sweet. I lovingly nicknamed him "naked mole rat" and began to get to know the little doggy soul behind the ruined exterior.

As time promoted healing, Phin's personality emerged more each day. He quickly appreciated the space to roam and explored each room of the house with great curiosity. We had a lot of fun watching him observe, learn, and mimic our dogs' daily routine. Before long, he blended right in and moved as one of the pack. All of our fosters go through this period of melding, but to watch Phin acclimate gave me a special joy knowing he came from being stuck in the damp darkness of a waste-ridden closet. This little guy had the spirit of a survivor, a certain quiet bravery about him. I called it #tinydetermination.

A couple weeks passed and his skin began to show signs of healing: scabs. Bruises and scabby patches where he'd scratched himself the worst indicated that his body felt it had sufficient resources to designate toward rejuvenation as opposed to inflammation. A white flag from the immune system; a sign of peace instead of war; light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. They say certain things often get worse before they get better. I'd say Phin's skin was a visual example of this sentiment. He looked like he'd been dragged through gravel and kicked around the ribs, but I found myself smiling at his scabs and bruises because I knew their significance. We cut our medicated baths down to once per week as not to overly dry his healing skin.

Scabby and bruised but on the mend!

Sure enough, little patches of white fuzz began to sprout around his ears and along his back. I couldn't have been more thrilled! We'd added Zyrtec and fish oil to our healing regimen and the benefits showed mightily. This little guy regrew his fur like wildfire. Tufts turned into running strips of down which morphed into full blown patches of FUR. My little naked mole rat was no longer naked! He'd become a handsome little white fuzzball and I couldn't possibly be prouder of his transformation. 

Things were really looking up. Phin spent his days prancing around the house following the sunshine from one warm spot to another. He had his choice of dog beds scattered throughout the house, which he enjoyed thoroughly on days when the sun wasn't shining brightly enough through the windows for him. He danced on his hind legs for treats and dinner along with the others and snuggled on the couch with us in the evenings for TV time. The good life - finally! He was able to get his vaccines in September, gain a whole pound in October, and have his neuter and dental scheduled for mid-November. Adoption would be right around the corner. Phin was doing GREAT. So great! And then he just wasn't.

My little naked mole rat suddenly had terrible back pain, complete loss of appetite, and total lethargy. He hid in his crate around the clock and wanted absolutely nothing to do with human interaction. His entire demeanor shifted. We took him to the emergency vet Sunday night and confirmed the worst: he was in full-blown kidney failure. Kidneys, I've learned, are funny on paper. They show up fine until they're really really not fine. I'll never have all the answers I want: how "not fine" his kidneys were by the time he was rescued from that closet, how "fine" they were before his abandonment, how much his dental disease may have contributed to the problem, whether the happiness and improvement we saw was simply a "rally" or a "surge" like the trajectory of that Newtonian apple destined to plummet. In any case, Phin's kidneys were utterly shot. His temp was 98.6 and the vet said he maybe had one more day in him without hospitalization. Dogs have a very poor chance of bouncing back from kidney failure. Even had we hospitalized Phin for dialysis, his chances of meaningful recovery were decidedly poor at best. I knew looking at the little survivor in my arms that he had zero fight left in him. He was just done. I got mad at myself for thinking the phrase, "he's given up", because that little dog did everything except give up. He survived some sort of terrible neglect, socked death in the jaw, and ultimately looked darn good doing it. But the boomerang - it came back for him. We can't save them all. Even if rescue finances weren't a consideration (they always must be - that's just the reality), it wouldn't have been fair to subject Phinny to what likely still would have been his last couple days hooked up to lines and scared in a hospital. And for what? Only to have to make the call at some point down the road anyway, whether that be two days or two months ahead. No. This is part of the gig: making the painful decisions to avoid suffering. I held Phin in my arms and sang the simplest song I've ever sung as he drifted off, "Night night, Phinny. Night night, Phinny. We love you, Phinny. Night night, Phinny." He went peacefully and quickly, as they usually do when they're already that close to death. Not even a ragged breath. But it wasn't fair. It's just not. And it never is. But we can't save them all.

The happiest photos

My last photo with Phin

I wanted so much more for Phin. He deserved the world's kindest little old lady who would've 

loved nothing more than to snuggle him in her rocking chair until the end of their days together. He had so many snuggles in his imaginary future in my mind. I would've snuggled him more if I'd known I was all he'd ever get. I know how this goes; I know he had three months of "good life" here with us and that I must focus on remembering that. But instead, what kills me is that he only had maybe two weeks of true "feel good" during those three months. Just as everything was looking up, it all came crashing down around us. That's just like life, isn't it? That's 100% why we must find and cherish the happiness in the now. Savor life moment by moment. Remember the details. The "now" is fleeting and is never to be repeated. I've never had a foster dog die on me before, not one that was mine from start to finish. Peppercorn, Brooks, Niko, and Meiko are not forgotten but they weren't mine. I'm always the person holding the hand of the grieving foster parents. I guess it's my turn. I sat at the vet's office with Phin in my arms and tears streaming down my face while thinking, "it's not that it's really any different, it's just that I have to hold my own hand this time". So I held Phin's little hand and I let him go. "Night night, Phinny. We love you, Phinny."

Happy Tail: Cheddar Cheese Man!

Farewell photo

Woohoo, Cheddar found his forever home today! He was one of several JW pups adopted out at the We Dog Care First Birthday Bash this afternoon. I'll be sure to make a post on that soon so everyone can see how awesome WDC is, but for now, we'll focus on Cheddar. I'm thrilled for him to be in a household that's active and playful. Our home is quiet again, this time for a while as we're taking a break for a month due to travel plans. We'll miss Cheddar, but it's awesome knowing he won't be bored anymore and it's nice for our dogs to get some peace and quiet. They really put up with a lot from the crazy red-tailed firefox!

Cheddar & his new family!

Cheese Man hit the jackpot with his new folks. You see, Cheddar is all smiles and wags at home, but as soon as he gets outside of his comfort zone he retreats into a nervous shell. Meeting his adopters at WDC was very scary for him, but they fell head over heels despite his tail-tucked first impression. I'm super grateful that his new people were able to look past the scared little dog they met today and imagine the "real" Cheddar with all of his spunkiness and joy. I am so excited for them to meet that Cheddar once he gets settled in with them at home. Out of all the dogs we've fostered, Cheddar did the most drastic 180 from shelter to home. His personality completely changed. I can't wait for his new family to see that side of him - the cheesy Cheddar who springboards off furniture, grins from ear to ear, rabid dog runs around the living room at 100mph, and entertains nonstop with his antics. Oh, Cheddar also gets a canine sibling out of the deal! His new Husky sister, Banksy, will surely keep him busy wrestling and playing day after day. Paws up for Cheddar and his first day of furever!

Settling in together

Siblings out for a walk

PUPDATE! Cheddar's first day in his furever home went very well. His mom says he and Banksy are well-matched energetically and even insisted on holding Cheddar's leash on their evening walk. They're playing great together and Cheddar is settling in well. Yay, Cheddar! Check out all the pawsome photos of him enjoying Banksy's company.

Playtime!

Happy Tails: Waffles & Koa!

This weekend brought happy tails for everyone! Both of our foster dogs, Waffles and Koa, found their forever families. It's nice and quiet at the Bowen house with just our three old geezers. We'll see how long that lasts...I think we're going to shoot for a week off here if possible. Anyhow, we're super happy for Waffles and Koa! They've both got fantastic lives ahead of them.

Waffles and his mommy

Waffles, foot healed and good as new, wound up as an only child. His mom is retired, so he's got all her time and affection all to himself. How nice! He'll love being the star, but hopefully she'll take him to daycare or the dog park every so often so he can get his crazy play on. He does love to socialize. His mom said they'll come in to my store and visit every now and then. I'll be sure and do a pupdate post on him after they come visit so you can hear how he's doing. Waffles is a nervous little guy when he first meets people, but he gave his new mom a face full of kisses right away. How awesome is that? His mom instantly fell in love with him and was moved to tears by his story, gentleness, and affection. Oh, and she's keeping the name "Waffles"! Love it when that happens! 

Waffles was sort of a co-foster effort. We pulled him and got his foot on the right track, then traded dogs with another foster family we're good friends with after about three weeks. Anne-Laure and Steed had been fostering a difficult Chihuahua named Mischa for a few months. Mischa hates men and was really having a rough time. We traded Mischa for Waffles to see if the change in scenery / routine would help at all and to give Anne-Laure and Steed a much deserved break. Waffles was a pretty easy dog - always happy, joyful, sweet, and playful. Sometimes you need a morale boost after dealing with a tough case for a while. Waffles gave them just that. Mischa's a story for another day. Anyway, Anne-Laure and Steed did a fantastic job with Waffles. They loved his carefree spirit just as much as we did. They continued helping his foot heal by giving him medicated foot soaks twice each day for a week (no joke...they're troopers) and making sure he took his antibiotics to ward off infection. Before long, his foot looked nearly perfect. We dog-sat Waffles for a few weekends here and there from that point on, but Anne-Laure and Steed remained his primary foster parents. It's been really cool to share the load so to speak with such good friends. Waffles became sort of a joint custody project, giving us all the opportunity to be touched by this sweet little dog's wonderful spirit.

Here's what Anne-Laure has to say about Waffles: "When Waffles first came into our house, he brought his liveliness and energy with him. Being used to Chihuahuas, we were a little unprepared for his athleticism when we left a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table. What would have been out of reach for a Chi definitely wasn't out of reach for the determined Waffle-nator's fast jaws. He ate all the food he could manage to get his paws/nose on. When there's no food around, he chomps on ice cubes after playing with them for a while first. This playful dog puts all his focus into whatever he's doing right right at the very minute he's doing it. If you take him on a car ride, it's his favorite thing ever. But so are walks, play time, belly rubs, cuddle time, dinner time, sleepy time, whatever! He loves it all! When he's content, he gently puts his chin on your arm and lets out a long sigh. He's the easiest, most loving little dog we've been lucky enough to have for a few days. He so wants love. I've never seen him show any sign of dislike toward anyone. One of my friends brought her 15 month old toddler over. She's scared of dogs so we were a little apprehensive, especially because Waffles has a much bigger bark than his size. He approached her very gently and rubbed his head on her, asking to be pet. When she felt safer, he chased her and she chased him back. When she picked up a little branch, he sat a few feet away from her with his eyes begging her to throw it. She didn't, so he very gently pulled the branch from her hand and threw it in the air for himself. He did that a few times, determined to teach her how to play fetch. This special little dog reassured my friend, I think, that dogs and toddlers are not incompatible. His gentleness combined with his puppy-ish love for play and passion for cuddle makes him the perfect dog in my book."

Derpfest!

None of us were able to make the adoption event this past Saturday. Anne-Laure dropped Waffles off at our house Friday night, planning to pick him up after the event on Saturday evening.. We snuggled, played, and enjoyed his company as usual. He's such a fun dog. We gave him a bath and cut his nails in prep for the event so he'd look his best. He'd had zero interest so far, which none of us understood given his endearing personality and extremely goofy cuteness. Saturday morning, I dropped him off at daycare on my way to work. He was transported to the event later that day. When I texted to ask how Waffles did, I nearly jumped out of my skin to hear that he was getting adopted. A lady had been pre-approved to adopt another Jake's Wish dog, but when she came to the event and saw Waffles it was love at first sight. We miss this happy little guy already, but we're so glad he's on to his forever! Best of luck to you, Waffle Cone!

Koa & her new momma!

Koa got the forever family of her dreams! She's got two canine brothers: Kielbasa the pittie and Sausage the Chihuahua. Sounds pretty perfect for her! Kielbasa needed a playmate. I'm sure he and Koa are running and wrestling as I type this. Koa's new people are great with training and consistency. The dogs have to wait for them to say "good morning" as the release phrase for coming out of their crates each morning! Too cute. Once per week, they're all allowed to sleep in bed with the people for a special night of snuggles. I'm so happy for Koa. I don't have as much to say about her happily ever after as I did for Waffles because we only had her for a week, but it's awesome to see this itty bitty happy pittie pup surrounded by love. I'm hoping we'll get photos of her once she's fully grown. If so, I'll be sure to share. Kisses, Koa!

Bonus: Waffles photo-bombing Koa in the backyard!

Herman: Letting Love Go

"Mini Flea"

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.

Happy Tail: Lucy!

Everyone loves Lucy!

Ah, the contented relief accompanied by a bittersweet pang that comes along with saying goodbye to a foster. It's a very rewarding feeling, even though it's always tough to give that final backward glance as you leave the dog you cared for in the arms of another. It's a bit sad going through all the photos of Lucy and moving them into archival on our hard drive. People always ask how foster parents do it, how we let them go. We just do it. It's not always easy, but it's part of what you sign up for when you commit to fostering. And you know what, it's really not that bad. Right now, I'm relishing the feeling of accomplishment I have knowing that Lucy's leg is in good shape and that she's in a truly wonderful adoptive family. I'm taking deep breaths and enjoying the peacefulness of my own pack; we have a moment to ourselves for the first time in over a month. This is a special moment - the glow of a job well done and the closing of another chapter.

Lucy has a wonderful home. Her dad is retired, so she'll rarely have to be home alone. Her mom is head over heels in love with her and is super excited to have her own personal snuggle buddy. Lucy also has two canine sisters: Rosie (labradoodle) and Lucy (Rat Terrier). The three girls get along swimmingly and are going to have a blast romping around in the yard together. Lucy's dad keeps an aviary in the backyard and she is fascinated by the birds. Rosie is already excited about showing Lucy how to use the doggy door...she also thinks it's great fun to hide on the inside and ambush Lucy as she enters! She's going to have the greatest life. By the way, Lucy's leg is doing quite well. She's going to continue to gain strength playing with her sisters. She'll be full out running on all fours before long. She's also up to a full 15 pounds, hurray! No more skin and bones. I am so glad for her!

Aside from being our first California foster, Lucy is also our first local adoption. All of our previous fosters went to different states and are mostly scattered up the eastern seaboard. We've never actually met the adopters of any of our fosters until now. It's nice knowing she's just across the valley. Makes me sleep that much easier tonight. I'm a little nervous about how quickly she'll adjust and whether she'll have any separation anxiety, but hey - I just tell myself that if Pickles can do it, anyone can do it! I know she'll be in hog heaven with her sisters, her parents, and their wonderful yard in no time flat. We love this girl a whole lot and we'll certainly miss her. After all she's gone through I'm just so thrilled she finally has the "furever" she deserves. We love you, Lucy! Enjoy the good life, sweet pea.

To learn more about St. Francis Animal Protection Society and how you can help us continue to help animals like Lucy find their furever homes, click here: http://www.stfrancisanimal.org/

The Journey Continues...

Our guys enjoying the new view

This blog isn't about me. It's meant to share all of my dog adventures and the many things Drew and I learn along the way. While I vent and emote through my posts, I always try to be sure the dogs remain my writing focus. Having said that, life just threw Drew and I a pretty serious curve ball that I feel deserves a post of its own. My blog's been quiet lately and I want to explain why. So, if you don't mind reading about me for a little bit, I'll share our latest adventure with you.

We moved from Atlanta to San Jose, California last week. Drew got a job offer in San Francisco just after Christmas. One month later, we sold our Atlanta house, said goodbye to everyone we know, loaded up our three dogs, and pointed the Pathfinder west. It was really fast, really exciting, really scary, and in some ways really sad. We don't know a single soul out here, but it's a totally fresh start for both of us. What does that mean for me? I left law school. I didn't transfer; I'm not taking time off. I'm done. What does any of this have to do with dogs? A whole lot! Let me explain:

1) I am enrolled in Carrington College California's Veterinary Technology program beginning June 2014. I didn't have this kind of opportunity it Atlanta; our nearest vet tech program was an hour away. I am SO tremendously excited about this! Dogs aren't just going to be a hobby for me anymore. They're going to be part of my career. I learned through fostering how much I love helping animals recover from illness and injury, being a dog nurse, paying close attention to things that a lot of people don't have the stomach for, and gaining an animal's trust in a really special way. I started with heartworm treatment and ended with Cap'n Jack's FHO and enucleation recoveries. I can do this. I really want to do this. I am super mega ultra excited to DO THIS! So I left law school in the dust for something I'm truly passionate about: animal care. Of course, being a vet tech involves way more than just dogs. CCC's program encompasses thirteen different species: Cows, snakes, frogs, ferrets, hamsters, guinea pigs, dogs, rabbits, cats, horses, birds, pigs, and mice. I've got a lot to learn!

2) We're going to have to take a hiatus from fostering. We are renting a townhome out here until we figure out all the neighborhoods and decide where we want to replant our roots. Let me tell you, finding a landlord who is ok with three dogs is no small task. Try doing it on a three day house hunting trip, to boot. I'm pretty sure we almost wound up living in a cardboard box under a bridge with our dogs. Anyway, we absolutely love our new neighborhood (Willow Glen, San Jose!) and our townhouse, but we probably should not push the envelope any further by adding a rotating fourth dog to the mix. Maybe after we live here for a year or two I can talk to our landlords and see if they'd be open to the idea, but I'm not comfortable doing it on the DL. Not to mention, this isn't our property. If you roll Cindy Lou Who (December 2012) and Cap'n Jack (January 2014) into 2013, we fostered 22 dogs last year. None of them were destructive, but if something ever happened here I'd be up a creek with the landlord because this isn't my house. While it's heartbreaking to step back from fostering, it's only temporary and it's better to be responsible about it. My dogs need their space while they adjust to our major life change anyway. They're doing great, by the way!

Chrissy, Katharine, & the FODA van

3) We don't know anybody out here. Anybody. I left my entire rescue network behind in Atlanta and the Northeast. I've got to start completely from scratch. How? The same way I did it in Atlanta when I moved there. I submitted my volunteer application to Santa Clara County Animal Care & Control this morning. Volunteering at animal control is the best way to get your finger on the pulse of animal welfare in your locale. It's also a great way to meet fellow animal lovers and give back to your community. Drew and I will be attending the next volunteer orientation on the second Saturday of March. So, we'll go from there. Eventually I'll learn which rescue groups are the best to work with out here, who needs the most help, who I'd like to foster for, etc. For now, we'll focus on walking and socializing the dogs at AC. I'm really curious to see what our AC is like out here...you can be sure I'll post about that. I'll really, truly, from the bottom of my heart miss fostering for transport through FODA for all the wonderful groups up North. You guys rock. I'm heartbroken about leaving you and I don't know how I'll ever possibly find such amazing dog people to work with again.

4) I need a job. My vet tech program doesn't start until June and even then it's only going to take up four evenings per week. I've applied for reception positions at local vet offices and sales positions at a couple of reputable pet supply stores. I'll only be working part-time and it will be nice to either establish a good relationship with a vet office early on or be able to help people find high quality products for their pets. We will see what happens. If I end up going the pet supply route, you can expect many more product plug posts to come!

5) I got a tattoo. What? Haha. I did! I'm going through a really hefty phase of 

change in my life. I wanted to mark it with something personal and special. I always wanted a paw print tattoo, but I never acted on it. (No, Mom, I don't have any others). Well, I finally did it. Two days before we left Atlanta, I grabbed Katharine and got inked. It meant a lot to me that Katharine, a dear rescue friend, tagged along. Here are a few of Katharine's other names: Zaxby the Chicken Wing Dog's mom, Finn the Dog's mom, FODA godmother / transport co-pilot / foster mom extraordinaire, and bringer of lunch to our awesome buddies at DeKalb County Animal Services. Anyway, the paw print is something really special to me. It punctuates my rescue work in Georgia, marks where it all started for me and also the end of that chapter, and commemorates the beginning of my vet tech career. So huge thanks to Katharine for going with me and to Dirk at East Atlanta Tattoo for being gentle. Now I figuratively wear a piece of my heart on my proverbial sleeve.

So, this is where The Great Foster Adventure that started it all stands. See what I meant about all the mixed emotions? It's a lot! It's taken me a while to get around to writing this post, but I'm glad I had the chance today. As always, thanks for reading and stay tuned to see what comes next! This isn't the end, only a new beginning. I have no idea where this crazy dog life is going to take me next!

This post is dedicated to Jamie, Chrissy, Katharine, Melissa, Jacki, Jane, Anna, and Rebecca. Thank you all for being such amazing friends, advocates, and drinking buddies. Paws up for DRDC!

Katie & Suri Head North

Bon voyage, girls!

Today I sent Katie and Suri on transport to See Spot Rescued in New Jersey. They went on the FODA van and we crated them together so they could stay snuggly and (hopefully) less stressed. Mama and Suri have been through so much together...they're such a cute little team! I felt nothing but happiness when I said goodbye to them today. They are the sweetest little things, but I am just so excited for them to take the next step toward furever. I know their lives are going to be filled with so much love, whether they get adopted together or separately. For now, they'll go to a foster home together until

Like mother, like daughter

they get adopted. I'll keep you posted as I find out about their journeys. Paws crossed for safe travels and bright futures for Katie Holmes and Suri Cruise! They deserve nothing but the very best. Good luck, girls!

Please share widely...Katie especially needs help generating adoption interest! I think Suri has a few people interested, but nothing concrete. If you're in the Jersey City area and would like to adopt Katie or Suri, please email SSR and request an application: seespotrescued@gmail.com