Rory's Story

After haircut!

Before haircut...

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

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

 

Rory sporting a blue mohawk at an event

Those butt pads though...

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

Rory's extreme makeover!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ziggy: A Designer Dog in Need of Rescue

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

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

This is his "I'm fancy" pose

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

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

a structured Ziggy = a happy Ziggy

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

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

Pupdate: Shiva!

Thought I'd give a quick pupdate on Shiva, now named Ayla. She's doing great with her foster mom, who says Ayla makes a wonderful companion. They enjoy the outdoors together and Ayla loves hiking just as much as her mom does. They spend a lot of time outdoors adventuring together on trails and taking in the fresh air and scenic views. Ayla also enjoys going to the local dog park and playing with dogs big and small. I'm so glad to hear that all of our hard work socializing her with our pack paid off! It seems our diligence took a firm hold and that she's really well-behaved. Her mom says she cracks up watching her toss toys in the air for herself and play soccer with tennis balls. She still favors her leg on and off again, but the vet says it will improve with more time. Ayla's mom also reports that she's learning to not chase the cats and is attending obedience school. Pretty pawsome if you ask me! I'm thrilled that she's living the good life and is well-matched to her mommy. Thanks, Tammy, for the photos and pupdate. Paws up for Ayla!

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!

Pupdate: Douille's Happy Tail!

Dewey & his Mom

Ok, moving forward after that sad bye bye Herman post. I've got happy stuff to share! Douille, the Sausage King of San Jose (now Dewey, the Slim Stud of San Francisco), is doing fantastically in his forever home. His mom sent me a ton of pictures, videos, and pupdates on him. He's settling in wonderfully since his adoption back in December and enjoying all the family dogs. Here's the latest from Brittany, his mom:

"The little sausage is doing amazing. Everyday more and more of his personality shows. He's been cuddling with me at night under the covers. I bought him these Santa mice cat toys which he absolutely loves! Chester is crazy about him and Dewey is starting to not mind Chester. I'm at my parent's house now. He has been so friendly with their American bull dog and English bulldog. The first thing he did when he saw them was give them kisses. He's been super playful with them! Dewey and the American bull dog (Jake) have been taking turns playing chase. His diet is going well although he does manage to find any little crumb on the floor. Potty training has been good. He's been going outside and  using the pee pee pads. I am so in love with him. I adore his beautiful hazel eyes, big ears, and scrunchy nose that goes to the side when he sniffs. My whole family is actually pretty jealous. They've all been asking for their Dewey time. Thank you so much for this amazing gift!"

So that feels pretty great! I can't think of a creature that deserves a happily ever after more than Dewey. That little guy is so full of love and kindness! We miss him around here and are so glad he's thriving with his amazing family. Huge thanks to Brittany for sending and letting me share all these great pictures & videos, too. I'm pretty sure Dewey is our first foster dog to have his very own "good morning" song! Check it out here:

Dewey loves playing with his cousin, English Mastiff Chester. Dewey loves to snuggle, so I knew they'd grow to be good buddies. I'm sure Chester is quite the furry furnace! Here's a short video of Dewey & Chester playing at home:

Brittany's doing a nice job of helping Dewey keep the sausage weight off, too! Now that he's much slimmer and has a buddy to play with all the time, he can really move around. Here he is showing off his speed at the park in his fancy little sweater:

Happy tails to you, Dewey! We're so happy you're living life to the fullest.
To read Douille's full story, click here: http://ohfortheloveofdogs.blogspot.com/2015/02/douille-sausage-king-of-san-jose.html

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.

Shiva's Journey: From Struggles to Success

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

Pretty Lady

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

Raw bone palooza!

The lying tug strategy

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

Car rides for fresh air

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

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

Tired Shivers

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

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

You mean I'll be ok, doc?

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

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

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

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

Shiva & her favorite toy: Mr. Purp

What's left of Mr. Purp

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