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

Pepper, just a week before the end.

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

Our last moments with Pepper

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

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

Enjoying that cheeseburger

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

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

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

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

Pepper & Henry

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

Peppercorn's Plight: Overcoming Undesirability

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

Pepper's intake photo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

6/6/15 PUPDATE on Peppercorn: Drew

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

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

Happy Tail: PICKLES!

Love at first sight!

I cannot believe I am writing this post...Pickles has been adopted! I am so excited, it's stupid. The Pickles Project is finally complete. We sent him to New Jersey yesterday on the FODA transport bus. He arrived safely this morning and is already SO in love with his wonderful new mommies. We had Pickles (now Preston!) for 6 1/2 months. He came so tremendously far during that time. Despite having never met his new mommy before, he let her hug and kiss him right away when he got off the transport bus. No bites! This little dog's journey has not been easy, but he has made me so very proud. Seeing pictures of him all snuggled up and looking perfectly blissful brings peace to my broken heart. I know it will heal with time, but because of all the updates and photos it is already a million times better!

Goodbye, my blatch!

I can't even begin to describe how difficult it was for me to let Pickles go. I became so deeply attached to this little dude. Long-term fostering is not a cake walk. It's trying, emotionally draining, and it hurts so much more when it's time to say goodbye. At first I felt so bad for him, then about 2 months in I think I actually hated him for a couple weeks. He was so difficult and I was convinced he'd never get adopted. Then one day I realized a small part of me didn't want him to go. That small part became my whole heart very quickly. I fell completely in love with his poor little Chihuahua soul. A rescue friend of mine likes to say that the hardest fosters are always the hardest to let go. She's right. Pickles was such a project and I poured so much of my heart into helping him learn how to trust and love. He truly was an exercise in great patience, but it was worth every frustrating second of it. I left the shelter with a terrified, undersocialized, fear aggressive disaster dog and 6 1/2 months later waved goodbye to a bubbly, snuggly, loving companion. Pickles is still not perfect, but what dog ever is? Perfect is boring. What matters is that he's to the point where he can enjoy life with confidence and zeal.

Check out my new sweater!

I'm smiling in my sleep

Pickles's new mommies have been following his Facebook page for four months. They waited for him until he was ready. I am so glad they did and I know Pickles is, too. They are head over heels in love with him. Seeing how happy he looks already on his very first day with his new family erased all the pain I felt letting him go. It was just meant to be. They went shopping for sweaters right away because it's chilly up there and Picky has no fur. They also went for a nice hike in the woods to get to know each other a bit (look how pretty their hike was!). It wore Pickles out, so they went home and took a snuggly nap. I'm so happy that he had such an amazing first day of his furever! I'm also super excited that he lives mega close to his old buddy, Cowboy Cody! Can't wait to see the pictures of their reunion. I will have to post pictorial updates, for sure. HUGE thanks to everyone who shared Pickles's Facebook page, liked his photos, offered me moral support, and of course to Chrissy for personally delivering him to his new moms. 

I miss Pickles a ton. It's sad sitting in my reading chair without him, but I know he has such a love-filled life ahead. I'll always love him. Best of luck to you, my little Blatch, my Blatchy, my Picnic, my Pachelbahn, my Picky, my Packles, my Packle Wackle, my Pickman, my Pickwick, my Picks, my Pickwicky, my Proudly Pugnacious Pickles. You're the best little blatch a girl could ever ask for. Congratulations on finally finding your furever family!

An Update on Pickles

Enjoying a walk in the park

It's been a while since I've written anything about our little dude, Pickles. He's doing very well and becoming more socialized with each passing day. I really see a huge difference in him and it makes me both happy and sad at the same time. I'm beyond thrilled that he's comfortable and confident at home with us and that he's learning to trust. Yet every day, with every little tiny bit of improvement I see, I can't help but feel a little sadness for him, his mysterious past, and others like him. I'll never know if he went through something that made him so fearful and distrusting, or if he just never knew how to properly interact with people. Either way, it's sad. But I'm so glad to see him loosening up a bit.
 

This is so exciting!


We received a few applications for Pickles and we're hoping one of them is successful. I'll admit, I'm completely terrified of how he'll do with a meet & greet if we get that far. But in my efforts to be completely straightforward with everyone about Pickles, I may have sold him a bit short. I've been a broken record telling people about how he bit a rescue lady once, how he will probably bite them until he adjusts to his new life, and that they need to be prepared to handle that without freaking out. While it's important to be frank, the fact is that Pickles hasn't bitten anyone since that incident over 3 months ago. He reacts poorly to strangers, sure, but the bite was a one-time deal. I really don't know that he'll bite again. He's gotten so much better with people coming to the house; he'll bark his face off and be skittish for about 15 minutes, but he'll warm right up as long as no one tries to be his best friend too quickly.

I'm tired!

This got me thinking: why do we expect dogs to be our best friends right away? Why should dogs just automatically trust us? We certainly don't hold people to the same standard; we have to earn other people's trust. I've never gone up to a new person and expected them to be my pal right off the bat. We frown and scowl at each other walking down the street. If a random person came up to me on the street and hugged me, I'd flip out. Why is it such a shock that a dog may be nervous around new people, even fearful, and possibly react negatively if pushed out of his comfort zone too soon? It shouldn't be. Pickles needs time, space, respect, patience, and love. All dogs need that, not just Pickles.

Now I'm hungry!

On a related note, we went for a walk with Pickles and Flea in Grant Park last weekend and encountered some awesome dog manners from other people. One man stopped several feet away and asked if his dog could say hello to ours. Later, a child asked if he could pet them. This made my heart sing! Taking the Chihuahuas for a walk can be stressful...oftentimes there are reaching hands and running feet and curious canines passing by. All of these stimuli can be incredibly challenging for dogs with insecurity issues, like my Flea, and dogs who are still learning how to interact with people, like Pickles. But there were no stressful encounters for us that day because everyone used their dog manners. How refreshing! We had a great time and Pickles got to take some goofy photos for his Facebook page. Paws crossed that I'm not imagining Pickles's improvement and that his meet & greet is a success! We need all the pawsitive thoughts we can get!

Pickles: More Sweet than Sour!

After almost three months of socialization, little Mr. Pickles is ready for his furever home. He still needs continued training and someone who is experienced with Chihuahuas, but he has come leaps and bounds since we brought him home from the shelter.

Pickles does really well when we have friends over. He may still be a little barky at first, but he relaxes after the first 15 minutes or so once he realizes the visitors mean him no harm. Ignoring him completely during this short time helps a lot, as does tossing treats on the floor in his general direction. He was very well behaved for two different house sitters (one male, one female) while we were out of town. CHARM School is helping him a ton: he's learning to be around other people and dogs in a foreign environment without stressing. He even let Anna, our CHARM School trainer, hang onto him for a few minutes while I went inside to get water this morning! Last week, Pickles joined me and some rescue friends for brews on the deck at a local watering hole. He hung out with us for two whole hours! There were other people, children, and dogs at tables next to us; after the first few minutes, he didn't mind much at all. These little social milestones are all SO encouraging! I'm super proud of Pickles and the progress he's made. He's not perfect and still requires patience, but I really think he's ready to move forward.

For a refresher on Pickles's background story, check out my initial blog post about him: http://ohfortheloveofdogs.blogspot.com/2013/03/meet-pickles.html

I know Pickles's perfect match is out there somewhere. If you or someone you know would like a loyal, affectionate, playful little Chihuahua who will make you smile on a daily basis, please email jsmartinez@dekalbcountyga.gov to fill out an adoption application for Pickles. Feel free to find me on Facebook (Aubrey Bowen) or leave any questions in the comment section below this post, too. This little guy is just too much fun! Check out the videos below to see how much he loves playing with his rope and also his adorable little happy Chi dance. Please share far and wide so we can help Pickles find the forever home he deserves!

Pupdate: Pickles's People Progress

Hey guys! I'm super happy and relieved to be writing this post. Pickles is making positive progress with how he reacts to people! We've had two failed meet & greet scenarios due to his fearful reactions toward strangers. Since then, I've realized that I need to step up my game and put some serious effort into helping him build his confidence and develop proper people skills. It's not "good enough" that Pickles is comfortable and loving around me. We're trying to get him adopted here, and that's just not going to happen without some work that results in him trusting people more. It's my job to set him up for success.

Before anyone jumps to any conclusions, Pickles's distrust and fear doesn't necessarily mean he experienced abuse in his past. Maybe he did, but it's more likely he just developed his reactive habits due to lack of proper socialization. It's his way of saying, "HEY YOU! I'M SCARY AND I WILL MESS YOU UP!" because he's scared and doesn't know how else to escape the situation. It's much like a little kid who lacks the skills/maturity to remove himself from a frustrating situation and just hauls off or throws a temper tantrum instead. So, with the help of some incredibly supportive rescue friends, a few brave willing-to-be-guinea-pig friends, and a patient husband, I'm confident that Pickles is on the road to success.

I took Pickles to CHARM School this morning at the shelter. I've mentioned CHARM School in a few previous posts, but it's a bunch of volunteers who get together to help socialize and train shelter dogs so they can be better candidates for successful adoptions. It's led by an awesome trainer who donates her time each week to help these dogs have the best chances of bright futures. We all figured Pickles could use the opportunity to not only work on his basic obedience skills, but to be around different people in a different environment. We kept our distance from the rest of the group and Pickles got a treat every time he saw a person or another dog go by. At the end, a small group of "strangers" practiced tossing treats to Pickles without the added stress of contact so that he could see that people aren't so bad after all. It worked really well. Toward the end, he even "sat" for the strangers when they tossed him treats.

It's just a start, but Pickles had a very positive day today. Nobody lost any fingers! I'm really proud of him and super excited to see him continue to improve over time. I just had to share this encouraging news and take a minute to brag on my little Picky. I'm a proud doggy mommy today! Stay tuned to hear more about his progress and adventures! Also, if you want to see Pickles playing, chasing his tail, and just generally looking super adorable, check out this short video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxKFbbxyUXo

Pickles: Adopt Me!

Pickles is still available for adoption! I just have to share these photos of him. Also, watch the video below to see a short snippet of Pickles's awesome Chihuahua dance! It'll make you smile, I promise. If you need a refresher on Pickles's story, please see my earlier blog posts about him. He's still working on his people manners, but he's learning to trust more and more every day. He LOVES to play, give kisses, and snuggle.

         Pickles is looking for someone who has experience with Chihuahuas and their temperaments.

He also hopes to find a forever home with at least one other dog because he’d like to have a playmate. Pickles is now healthy, crate-trained, and housebroken. He’s really goofy and will keep you entertained for hours. If you’re looking for a fun-loving, super loyal, feisty little lap-dog, Pickles is your guy!

Please share and email jsmartinez@dekalbcountyga.gov if you'd like to apply for Pickles.

¡Ay, Chihuahua!

Hello, play with meee!!

Chihuahuas. Everyone knows I love them and I’m not put off by their often unpredictable personalities.  I will be honest here: I’m a bit hesitant to write this post because I don’t want to harm Pickles’s reputation and chances of adoption, but at the same time I want to stay true to my blog’s purpose. In case I've strayed from the main purpose, I began this blog to share both the joys and the challenges of fostering. I don’t want to abandon that simply for the sake of diplomacy.

I had a tough day yesterday as a foster mom and as a Chihuahua lover. The day began with a super exciting message from an awesome rescue group who wanted to meet Pickles. We jumped in the car and drove to the shelter. Pickles did great with the first two ladies who met him, but my heart sank when he bit the third rescue lady. No physical harm happened; fortunately, the lady wore a heavy leather jacket that protected her skin. Unfortunately, that promptly ended Pickles’s meet and greet.

I smile when I sleep!

I’m writing this to vent my frustration and discouragement, but also to share my love for this little dog and hopefully get people to see what I see: a good, sweet, loving boy who is still learning to trust and is desperate to find someone who understands him. Pickles is not a vicious dog and no one is claiming that he is. I don’t want to seem as though I’m ok with the fact that he bit the rescue lady or making excuses for his behavior. I just want to promote awareness of a Chihuahua’s emotional plight in hopes of breaking through the barriers posed by reactive behavior and behavioral labeling.

I'm super cute, squishy, & snuggly!

I know you want to play!

I wanted to cry the whole drive home, but I couldn't. I could only think about how I could have better prepared Pickles for the meeting and how I can help him going forward. Clearly, Pickles needs more work. That’s on me. Prior to the meet and greet yesterday, Pickles had never experience a group encounter since we brought him home from the shelter. Perhaps that’s why he lost his cool when the third rescuer approached him. Everyone used good body language; no one ran toward him or shoved hands in his face. He might have just been overwhelmed by meeting a group of new people all at once or felt protective of me. Then there’s the environmental factor. While we didn't go inside the loud shelter, the parking lot and grassy areas are still full of crazy dog smells and strange stimuli. Even if Pickles didn't recognize where he was, he knew he was in a foreign place. Finally, I was really nervous about the meet and greet. I’m sure Pickles sensed my anxiety and fed off of that. All of these factors can be very stressful for a dog, especially a dog who is still learning how to properly socialize. Pickles just wasn't ready. I haven’t equipped him with the socialization and coping skills he needed to do well in that situation.

I have so much love to share, can't you see?

Chihuahuas are tough little dogs to crack. Any dog can be “mean”; Chis aren't naturally nasty just like Pit Bulls aren't naturally vicious. They simply respond to stress in ways that are often inappropriate because of their insecurity. Size has a lot to do with it, “fight or flight” has a lot to do with it, and under-socialization has a lot to do with it. Pickles needs more work, more time to learn how to trust, and more time to learn how to respond to everyday occurrences. He’s not mean, he’s not hopeless, and he’s not unadoptable. He is simply a work in progress. So what do I do next? I keep working with him until he gains confidence and understands that he doesn't have to be so afraid all the time. Pickles is a cake-walk compared to Flea; I can do this. He can do this. We will not give up. I know I’m a crazy Chihuahua lady, but I know I am not the only one. I will work every day to make people see what I see in Pickles and we will find his perfect match. I know he or she is out there somewhere.

P.S.: Thankfully, Pickles is feeling MUCH better since my previous blog post. His cough is still kind of lingering, but it is greatly reduced and he really feels good. He says thanks for all the pawsitive thoughts!

Pickles Update

Happy Pickles!

If you missed my first blog post about Pickles, check it out for his back-story: http://ohfortheloveofdogs.blogspot.com/2013/03/meet-pickles.html

I've gotten a few more good photos and videos of Pickles over the last few days since we brought him home on Wednesday. He's doing GREAT settling in and getting along with everyone (dogs & people alike). He is the sweetest little thing and he loves to crawl up in your lap and snooze. He gives plenty of kisses and likes to do that silly Chihuahua thing where he rubs his head all over your body trying to get his scent on you. It's kind of a reverse upside-down noogie...Flea does it too and I have to admit, it's one of my favorite Chi habits. It just makes you feel loved and snuggly! Pickles doesn't have much of a Napoleon complex at all, really. He's more the needy clingy lap Chi type. In fact, I think Cindy Lou might have been a bit feistier than Pickles. He's really mellow.

Pickles snuggling up for a nap

While Cowboy is still Pickles's favorite playmate, Pickles and Flea have a go at it every now and then too. As you can see in the video below, they do this funny little Chi-showdown quickstep routine where they face off shoulder to shoulder trying to decide who is King of all Chis. It's hilarious. I do still have to always make sure to carve out a little me and Flea time so he knows he's still my little Chi baby.

Poor sick Pickles

Sadly, Pickles is pretty under the weather right now. Yesterday he woke up with an awful wheezing hacking cough and developed a fever as the day went on. He's really lethargic and doesn't have much of an appetite today. Here's hoping it's nothing more than the typical shelter cold / respiratory infection. I picked up some medicine for him this afternoon from the shelter vet, so hopefully it nips it in the bud quickly and has Pickles feeling back up to par soon. He's been so pathetic. It makes us sad to see him all dejected and lousy feeling. On the plus side, he's doing great with potty training and before he got sick we worked a bit on "sit". Check out the videos below to see how happy and cute Pickles is when he feels healthy! Stay tuned for more updates on Pickles and please email jsmartinez@dekalbcountyga.gov if you're interested in adopting Pickles once he's healthy.

Pickles learning "sit": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_O2n-qjMKzQ
Pickles resting: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uu6F53LPNSw
Pickles & Flea: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ibY-G-4_fI

Meet Pickles!

Pickles at the shelter

Pickles is our latest foster. He's an adult 8 pound male Chihuahua who hails from DeKalb County Animal Services. An officer picked him up as a stray on Lawrenceville Highway near I-285. He's heartworm negative, but has hookworms. We gave him an oral medication that will get rid of them pretty quickly. Oh yeah, he has an awesome little underbite that makes his bottom lip stick out! I know what you're thinking: wait a second, didn't she just write a long ranting post about how 5 dogs is too many for her? Yeah, I did. And we still have Cowboy until April 6th, so Pickles indeed makes 5. BUT, I'm a crazy Chi lady and nothing gets me more than a poor little chachkee stuck in animal control.

Chihuahuas (and all other teeny breeds) have a really hard time in the shelter. Due to their size, they tend to get very stressed and scared in the loud foreign environment. For self-preservation purposes, Chis resort to what we call fear-aggression. Basically, they put up a mean as hell, bite your fingers off, rabid dog front because they're simply terrified and hoping that they can scare off anything that might cause them harm. Consequently, they aren't promising adoption candidates and they're less likely to make it out alive because of this. It's not that they're actually mean or aggressive, it's just that they need to be in an environment where they can relax, learn to trust, and gain socialization. Some are worse than others. Cindy Lou was the sweetest thing, even in the shelter. Pickles, on the other hand, only had two friends: the rescue coordinators trying desperately to get him out alive. Maybe I'm numb to crazy Chis after domesticating Flea, but Pickles really is a great little guy.

Pickles and Cowboy playing

Nobody wanted to see poor little Picks go down without even a chance, so we picked him up yesterday after his neuter surgery. He's doing really well! He snapped at me a few times last night because I startled him by moving my hand too quickly when reaching for my drink, but that's par for the course. He gets along great with Cowboy and Oliver, as odd as that seems. Oliver's quite clumsy with him, but Cowboy knows he needs to be gentle when they play. Cows gets down on Pickles's level and lets Pickles climb all over him like a jungle gym. They're ridiculous...I think they're in love. Head's up: the end of the video below is a tad X rated...! Bunks and Flea aren't too keen on Pickles yet, but Flea does let him share my lap when we sit in the recliner. Progress! Pickles likes Drew a lot, too. I think he likes him more than me so far. But I've gotten a few Pickles kisses already!

Pickles is available for adoption through DeKalb County Animal Services. He needs to go to someone who understands Chihuahuas and their Napoleonic personalities. I never really recommend putting Chihuahuas together with children or super big dogs (for the safety of all involved), but I think Pickles is well-suited for a home with experienced pet owners and other dogs of small-medium size. Not sure about cats. If you're interested in adopting Pickles, please email jsmartinez@dekalbcountyga.gov for application information.

Flea's Story

Flea's story is rather different from my other pups' stories. His is a tale of persistence, determination, blood, sweat, and tears. On March 26, 2010, I was at work and Drew took Bunkin for a walk around our apartment complex. The dog field area was lined by a very dense bamboo forest. As Drew and Bunkin began to walk back home, a raggedy little dog clamored out of the bamboo and followed behind at a short distance. Drew tried to approach the dog, but he bared his teeth and snapped angrily at him each time. Drew eventually gave up, but the little guy followed him and Bunkin all the way home. He stopped short at our front door and refused to cross the threshold. Drew tried to reach down and pick him up, but the little guy wasn't about to tolerate any contact. Drew shut the door, but the wild little dog just stood there and didn't run off. He says he knew I'd kill him if he didn't do something, so he put on his game face, snatched up the little dog, incurred several nasty bites, and tossed him inside.

When I came home, I did a double take. There was a very unhappy, very roughed up looking, snarling miniature version of Bunkin in my living room. He was about 8 pounds, rather malnourished with an upset digestive system, and very atrophied with old injuries to an ankle. His legs were so weak and wobbly, he could barely walk along without stumbling. He was so scared and small; it was clear his only defense mechanism was an aggressive facade. We still didn't know much about rescue / shelters at the time, but we knew this little guy wouldn't stand a chance in a high volume animal control facility. We knew he was going to be a nasty long-term project that most people wouldn't care to deal with. We knew we were stuck with him.

Well, stuck we were. It took us about 3 weeks to get to the point where Flea stopped biting us all the time. It took at least 6 months for him to begin behaving around friends and family. He took a chunk out of a friend's calf, took my sister's fingernail clean off, and drew blood countless other times. He and Bunkin didn't get along, even though he followed him home that day. He slept on the ground in a blanket or under the bed most nights early on. He was a complete disaster when it came to potty training and he had anxiety issues like nobody's business, on top of the behavioral drama. Flea was a certified mess. Many days we thought we'd gotten ourselves into a huge mess when we took him in, but we loved him nonetheless. We just had to convince him to love us in return.

This March, it will have been three years since Flea found his way into our home. He's come such an amazingly long way, though his journey still isn't complete. He now weighs 13 pounds and is good and strong. He's able to be off his anxiety medication, without his belly bands 24/7, has learned how to cope with various daily stresses, and how to behave properly (well, relatively properly) around visitors. He's my little lovey baby and he spends most of his time sleeping in our laps or whining because he wants to be in our laps. He's still the same old feisty Flea that he always was, but acceptably so now. I love his firecracker personality. He's the boss and he knows it. He and Bunkin still aren't fond of each other, but Flea secretly loves Oliver and Oliver understands Flea's boundaries. If someone knocks on the door, Flea perches on the very top of the couch and barks like nobody's business until we give him the ok. He loves cat toys, playing fetch, and lounging in the sun. Most of all, he loves us. I have to admit, there were many many days I thought we'd never get to this happy place of status quo with Mr. Flea, but the patience has finally paid off. Yes, he's still a total mess and he's a holy terror, but he's mommy's little monster and I just love him dearly.

I am now certifiably obsessed with Chihuahuas of all types (we think Flea's probably something like a Chihuahua / Min Pin mix) and I can thank Flea for teaching me so much about the plight of small dogs. They're valiant, robust, lionhearted little fellows who just want a person who will treat them like the king they know they are. Yes, they can be slow to warm and trust and often come with tough behavioral issues that stem from deep-seated fear and anxiety, but once you begin to understand them and win them over they make the most wonderful companions. Their loyalty rewards your diligence in spades. Flea is no exception. I'm so glad I've finally gotten the chance to revisit and share how all three of my dogs came to be part of our family. They own our hearts and they truly are the joy of our lives. There is no doubt that we've got many more adventures ahead to share together. I wouldn't trade my motley crew for anything in the world.

Feb 10, 2023

UPDATE 2/14/2023: For the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to have a broken heart on Valentine's Day. Drew and I decided to say goodbye to Mr. Flea, just six weeks shy of his 13th adoptiversary with us. My office feels so lonely without my little buddy keeping me company as I type. The hallway is lined with all his belongings as we cycle through laundry and prepare to store everything. This dog had approximately 9,246 little beds and blankets around the house and just as many teeny tiny cat toys stashed everywhere. Corners look empty and it's oddly quiet without the sound of his little "tic tac toes" as he relentlessly circled the house in search of crumbs. I've told his origin story to so many friends over the years so many times that it feels like lore. I have to admit, as I reviewed my original post on Flea (above) in preparation to begin writing today's update, it struck me as an inadequately simple overview of our time with this dog. It makes sense though - I wrote it only three years into our journey with Flea, which I am so proud to say is just a small fraction of the time we spent with him. No wonder it doesn't do him justice - 10 additional years of adventure have transpired!

It looks like my writing left off back in 2013 emphasizing how far Flea had progressed behaviorally and how much we already couldn't imagine our lives without him (growls, snarls, bites, and all!). That trajectory continued upward for the most part; Flea turned into a really good little guy and mellowed more with age, although I'd be lying if I claimed he was ever truly an easy dog. We travel quite a lot and finding dog-sitters is always an arduous undertaking that requires the most thoroughly prepared and fearless individuals (and even then they have to remain undeterred by my 10 page dog instruction manual and come through the meet & greet event unscathed). If everyone is alive and no blood has been shed when we return from vacation, it's a success. We have been extremely fortunate to meet some wonderful pet sitters who have cared beautifully for our crew over the years, but with Flea it's never been a run-of-the-mill job! Thank you to the several brave souls who have made our travels possible by staying with Flea et al. I'd be remiss if I didn't also shout out to the many veterinary professionals who courageously worked with Flea over the years. From wildlife gloves and caution-flagged files to muzzle intolerance and a shockingly high "tolerance" to sedatives, handling Flea never got easier. 

I am relieved to share that the only victims of his bites since way back when have been me, Drew, and the other resident dogs (none serious, just typical ninja-strike Flea bites and, for the most part, predictably deserved). Friends who came over always knew to ignore him while he yelled at them, then not to panic when he eventually came up to sniff and inspect them. By and large, Flea's bark was much worse than his bite and he typically warmed up to people before their visit ended. Having said that, if you are a friend of Flea, then you are one of a specially chosen few. Even among his small circle of friends, there is only an even smaller handful of folks who could get away with just walking up and greeting Flea directly without getting an earful or risking a finger.

The key to a successful human-to-Flea approach: confidence hedged with respect and recognition, laced with faux reverence, and extended only on his terms. If you flinched even oh so slightly at his intimidation tactics, you were as good as chopped liver and doomed to catch nothing but menacing side-eye from Flea for the rest of time. On the flip side, all it took was a couple of those confident interactions before you'd be able to scoop him up and levy pets without real trouble. Now listen, I'm not going to name names because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings by leaving them out and revealing their true standing, but the most trusted inner circle knows who they are and can forever hold pride in their status as tried and true Friends of the Flea. There are FIVE people on this planet who could walk into my house on any given day, pick Flea up, love on him, set him down, proceed uninterrupted with the purpose of their visit, and live to tell the tale. If you aren't one of the anointed five, please take no offense - it probably just means you've got superior self-preservation instincts (and no doubt all ten of your fingers).

Ok, I'm already starting to feel like this Flea story is shaping up to reflect his legacy better. It will still  probably take me a couple days to put everything into words here. What a life! Where to start? What to say next? Flea shared most of the same adventures as Bunkin and Oliver and plenty more beyond that. From tolerating (and keeping in check) the bazillions of foster dogs over the years, to moving from GA to CA and back, to taking countless trips by car to FL, to kayaking with us like a right proper first mate, to enjoying TWELVE cabin vacations (he loved cabin trips), to visiting 15 out of 50 states, this little dog lived life large. And those are just some of the main highlights / life events. I'll never forget the first time we put him in a swimming pool only to discover that his version of dog-paddling occurred perpendicular to the norm and resulted in swift sinking. He loved floating on my raft in the sun with me though! Here are a few more timeless tales off the top of my head:

- when he convinced Oliver to dig up half the yard and flush a chipmunk out for him

- when we were moving and couldn't find him because he'd hidden inside a boxspring

- the time during our Cinco de Mayo party when he held our friend's little girl hostage and ate all of her tacos/salsa/queso/guac straight off her plate because she was too terrified to move

- when a chocolate lab grabbed him by the head because he attempted to steal a tennis ball from him and Bunkin saved his life

-  when he held Drew's brother hostage on the couch for like two hours by sitting on top of his chest and growling every time he'd try to move

- that time he got impounded by hotel security in the middle of the night

- the time he ran away for 4 hours and then came back like no big deal

- when I took him to Petsmart obedience classes and he was still feral and terrorized the class

- when he finally allowed his vet to successfully place all her acupuncture needles, only to immediately shake them all out

- how he used to love chasing, jumping, and chomping at bomber bees in the yard

- the time he encountered a giant moth and was absolutely enraptured by it

- that time we snuck him into a state park so he could go kayaking with us

- when he bullied our friends' greyhound out of his entire bowl of food and ate the whole thing, giving himself a roiling case of pancreatitis

- that time we gave the three brown dogs a canine IQ test and Flea scored the highest

 

PetSmart Graduation 2010

Everybody has all the little things they love about their dogs: the
way they smell, their soft ears, their happy tail wags when you come home from work, and all their cute quirks. I could go on and on forever about Flea's quirks and how I'll miss his little grumpy sounds and how smart he was, etc. But I think what I'll miss most of all, aside from his companionship, was how much of a big personality he was. He was an absolute character and I don't think I'll ever find another dog with that much moxie. He'll always be a legend: that crazy little angry dog who emerged from a bamboo thicket and left none of that ferocity behind as he went on to rule his household for over a decade.

I also love how literally every single one of my friends, coworkers, and family members has at least one Flea story of their own. There's no way I can recall them all at will, but I know how many laughs and tears they'll bring me over the rest of my years. There are so many stories / adventures / moments - some happy and some sad or intense, but that time he got out of the yard in 2018 really did something permanent to my heart. He'd found a tiny hole in our fence and just decided to go off on an adventure when I let everyone out to potty one day. I went to call them back inside and he was just gone. I turned the house upside down, thinking maybe I hadn't let him out in the first place and he was inside somewhere. Nope. I went out the front door and spotted him across the cul-de-sac on a neighbor's porch. I called his name, he took one wild look back at me, then took off like a shot into the woods, middle fingers up. I traipsed around the woods for a while, set some feral cat traps, drove slowly around the neighborhood shaking his food container out the window and yelling "dinner", nothing. I alerted his microchip company and all the lost pet networks, made fliers, called animal control and gave them a heads up, and then realized I couldn't do anything else but wait and hope. I knew no one could catch him and I just remember the sick knot in my stomach and the ice in my veins as I told myself I'd have to accept that I'd never see him again. I'd have to just focus on the good life we'd given him while we had him and take comfort in that. That was how Flea's story was going to end - I just couldn't believe it. I sat there, numb to the core, when I heard the back door open and Drew call my name (he'd just gotten home from a work trip 20 minutes prior and joined the search efforts). He was standing there with Flea in his arms. He came back into the yard through the same hole once he decided he'd had enough adventure. I guess he'd forgotten that it wasn't all that great being wild and free. I died. I literally dropped to the ground and busted into hyperventilating sobs of emotion and relief. Drew told me later that he'd only seen people react like that in movies. I was so mad at that stupid dog that I was completely ok with the fact that he'd ripped off a dewclaw getting caught on something - he deserved it. I'm still not sorry. An ounce of suffering for literal years off my life. He'd live. I was never quite the same.

That story and those feelings came back to me in a moment of clarity while drowning in anticipatory grief ahead of Flea's departure. I realized that I was lucky: having to make this decision for Flea was a privilege - one I almost didn't have. All life ends in death; there's no way around it and there's no easy out, but there are some fates worse than others. I almost lost him forever and would have never known what happened to him. Instead, I got to enjoy five more years with Flea after his escapade and I get to have peace and closure surrounding his death. That's the goal. That's a gift. That's something to celebrate and appreciate forever. Everybody dies and it's normal to be sad over the loss, but we must temper our grief with gratitude and solace. How much more wonderful this little dog made our lives, as we certainly did his.

In the end, our decision was guided by our ability to manage Flea's comfort and quality of life. Flea had degenerative joint and disc disease and resultant osteoarthritis and neuropathic pain. We did all the things you can do to manage this over the years: lifestyle changes like carrying him up and down the stairs and prohibiting jumping on/off furniture, an ever-evolving multimodal pain management approach curated by an army of veterinary professionals, acupuncture, joint supplements, and so much more. We began using a stroller to allow him to still enjoy neighborhood walks on days where he didn't have the stamina or needed convalescence. Despite our efforts, his physical deterioration predictably progressed and was eventually compounded by cognitive dysfunction. Dogs can develop "old dog cognitive disorder", which is basically a rather undignified name for doggy dementia. Flea exhibited telltale CCD behaviors like repetitive circling, aimless wandering, and obsessive licking. We started him on a medication to bolster his cognition and made sure he had plenty of mental stimulation to keep him sharp (he loved puzzle games and snuffle mats, so he'd come up to my office with me and work on his puzzles uninterrupted while I studied). Each time we added something to his regimen, we saw a period of improvement and stability. Then we plateaued - he sort of hung out in that directionless "senile" state and began to have more and more breakthrough pain. We got him through a bad flare at Christmastime only for him to lapse into another in February. His increasing baseline of pain combined with his deteriorating cognition led to about 50/50 bad days vs good days - a dark harbinger of worse days ahead.

When we consider a pet's quality of life, we don't want to see more bad days than good. This seems simple enough, but it doesn't always shake out to be so cut and dry. In cases where nothing is overtly wrong with a pet, it can be tremendously difficult to make a decision based on gradual changes to subjective observations. Bunkin had an extremely aggressive cancer; that decision was objective and out of our hands. Oliver and Flea - not so much. They were just old and busted and we have to do our best to take a few steps back and evaluate their overall enjoyment of daily life. They get to the point where they need us to be strong enough to release them when we can no longer mitigate their suffering. No matter how familiar you are with these notions or how many times you go through pet loss, it never gets easier.

**I'm writing a separate post to hold all my thoughts on our QOL process and the details of Flea's pain management protocol. I figure maybe it's useful for other people with senior pets and it's definitely been part of my processing journey, but I didn't want this entire memorial post about Flea to be focused on those details. So if you're interested, check back here and I'll link that post when it's ready to share.

Ultimately, I ran out of solutions and Flea made it very clear that he needed us to let go. My once deep red-tan colored feisty Chihuahua was now an ancient white-faced ghost of himself and utterly out of energy. We went from wrestling with a difficult decision to staring clearly at the right answer in a matter of three days. Flea was ready to rest. His nervous system was failing him - think of it like your body's control center short-circuiting, your nerves irreparably on the fritz - and he needed our help to escape the pain and confusion. We had one of our dear friends, Dr. Greener, come to the house and help us say goodbye to Flea. He left us calmly and untroubled - I always feared this would not be the case due to his demeanor, so I am forever grateful. I didn't want his final moments to be spent fighting and I was determined to stay strong for him until he was gone; I needed Dr. Greener, a fellow Chihuahua mom and one of Flea's chosen friends, for me as much as I needed her for Flea. The relief that flooded my heart as I realized we'd helped him go peacefully is inexplicable.

Flea had surf & turf for dinner and Reese's peanut butter cups for dessert. His last day was beautifully sunny and breezy, so he and I spent time on the porch listening to the wind chimes and basking in the sunshine. I like to think we were reflecting on our journey together, enjoying each other's quiet company one last time and opening our hearts to the peace of the moment. I know I'm humanizing him a lot, but our bond was perfection. This is what people call having a "heart dog". It's like the pet version of a soulmate. It doesn't mean I love my other dogs any less, just that Flea and I had an elevated connection. Losing a heart dog hurts extra, they say. I'm doing ok, honestly more so than I expected. I think I experienced so much anticipatory grief in the years leading up to this final portion of the journey that I had, in a way, already processed things. I am terribly fatalistic and guilt-oriented, always struggling to live in the "now" and not dread / worry / stress myself to death over what's to come. It's a character flaw, but it does mean that I'd been preparing for the day I'd have to let him go for a long time now. I know my grief will come in waves and tears will flow at unexpected moments, but my heart will heal with time. I am so lucky and grateful to have the guidance of my vetmed friends helping us navigate these turbulent waters; the peace I have is due in large part to my colleagues and their reassurance along the way. Flea's issues were unfixable and a pretty typical part of the aging process - we rest easier knowing we did absolutely everything possible to give him a long, wonderful, beautiful life full of love. And we succeeded.

I've got his fancy little sombrero ready to prop up against his portrait, like Tiny Tim's crutch

against the Cratchits' fireplace. I'll feel closest to him on sunny days, when I can imagine him enjoying a lazy afternoon with me. I'll always miss his little upside-down reverse noogies and his little "murf" noises. There are so many things I miss and so many memories that are melding together into a giant ball of fullness within my broken heart. I can't possibly write it all, no matter how many pages and hours I spend trying. I'll never know why he chose to follow Drew and Bunkin home that day in 2010, but I do know that I'm sure glad he did. Our lives wouldn't be nearly as rich without him. Drew pointed out that it gives him a certain sense of closure and peace knowing that our "three brown dog" trio is together again, like the final chapter of a book. I'm as certain that Bunkin and Oliver are waiting to speak with the manager to ask who let Flea through the gates. I'm going to make another post with a bunch of Flea photos, but I've included a few good ones here. Thank you for 13 years of colorful adventures, Mr. Flea. I will never stop telling your stories or smiling at your memory. 

February 14, 2023

In Memory of The Three Brown Dogs