Phinneas: Happiness in the Now

The Five Foundlings (Phinneas far right)

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

Leonard's fleas

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

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

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

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

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

Scabby and bruised but on the mend!

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

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

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

The happiest photos

My last photo with Phin

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

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

Silly Billie, our Favorite Hillbilly

Billie at the shelter

Billie, Day 1

This gorgeous stray Treeing Walker Coonhound girl came to us pre-named by her rescue group as "Aldie", which didn't really suit her personality. We ended up calling her Billie as a combination of all her quirk: her gangly and random "billy goat" ways, her "hillbilly" country roots being a hound from rural Georgia, and her ridiculous goofiness which had us always calling her "silly billy". I tried to figure out a way to make "Billie Jean" fit because of the spelling, but yeah, no. Anyhow, that's how Aldie came to be called Billie. Sorry, not sorry! I'm sort of big on names. ;-)

I was at the Hall County shelter with Perfect Pets Rescue shortly after we moved back to ATL, helping assess dogs for rescue commitment. Billie wasn't on their list to look at, but she caught my eye in her kennel as we walked by. I didn't take her out, didn't want to slow down their process or interject much in a situation where I was a ride-along, but for whatever reason Billie stuck in my head. I asked about her and expressed my interest, but that's about it. I just couldn't stop thinking about her...sometimes I wonder if at this point in the game I am innately drawn to those that are "my type" or "good saves". Who knows? All I know is that in a shelter full of dogs in need, when one jumps out at me through kennel bars and manages to make that much of an impression, that says something and is usually worth pursuing. Lucky for me - and Billie, of course - I got a message from the rescue that she'd become "urgent" and needed rescue a couple weeks after I'd seen her. She needed a foster while recovering from her spay and entropion surgery before heading up to NY for adoption. She needed to put on a good several pounds, too. We welcomed Billie home on November 8!

This. Dog. Is. Awesome. I fell in love immediately. Everything she did just tickled me: the way she ate her first dinner practically upside down, the way she dove head first into the couches with great enthusiasm for each impending nap, the way she loved to spend hours outside just staring up into the trees looking for squirrels and practicing her houndy ways, the way she tried out every possible sleeping surface in the house like Goldilocks and the three bears, the way she slept with her mouth open - just everything about her carried some sort of dopey adorableness that drove into my heart like a Mack truck. By the way, there's a photo included here that illustrates every single one of those quirky examples of her personality. Enjoy! I loved how anti-feminine she was, utterly oaf-like and completely uncoordinated. I think she had two accidents in the house and slept maybe 75% of the month she spent with us - talk about easy peasy! There's nothing we like better in a dog than 100% Genuine Lazy Bones...this girl's got it! It's like she knew she was born to lie on someone's big comfy couch for the rest of her days.

The Goat (see video below for a situational explanation of this nickname) endured her entropion surgery very well. Dr. Daniel at The Veterinary Clinic in Marietta reconstructed Billie's eyelids so that they droop properly instead of turning inward. Entropion causes inflammation and heightened risk of infection, so Billie felt immediately better post-surgery. I think of how obnoxious it is when I have a mere eyelash floating in my eye and imagine how it must feel like for these dogs whose eyelashes are constantly scratching away at their corneas...she only looked like a FrankenBillie for a few days before we could really see a drastic improvement. Fellow Perfect Pets Rescue foster moms, Lisa and Amy, kept Billie for us while we traveled home for Thanksgiving. By time we returned, she had fully recovered and we got her stitches out. A brand new Billie!

 

Our goodbye photo

On December 2nd, Billie boarded the transport van and headed off to New York. Perfect Pets is located up there and their GA dogs stay in local NY foster homes until adoption once they arrive. I always send a letter to the adopter with my transport dogs, including my contact info and musings about the dog. It's proven to be a great way to get updates and stay in touch once they've left, so here's hoping we get an update on Billie! This sweet girl has a great new life ahead of her and I'm so thankful to PPR for sponsoring her. She was a true pleasure to host! We're rooting for ya, sweet Billie Goat!

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!

Waffles, Chicken and

Intake photo showing injured foot and shock collar

Every morning, our shelter's "needs rescue" list is emailed to me and a bunch of other local rescue representatives. Almost a month ago, a little Dachshund mix with an injured paw showed up on the list. He was wearing a shock collar and had the most awful tear stains. Drew said he looked like he'd been crying for days. His eyes stared through his intake photo at me and begged for help. Sometimes you can just see their gentle souls through their eyes. This was one of those dogs. I knew him as SB02, his kennel number. We started calling him "foot dog", which wasn't really much better than SB02.

Drew and I went to meet him & we knew we had to have him. I went inside his kennel and sat down next to him to get some better pictures and an idea of his demeanor. Despite all the pain he must have been in, he was so sweet and loving. He hobbled over next to me and laid down while I rubbed his ears. He was so much cuter in person than in his intake photo - young, white and cream colored, super soft, and stretchy like a wiener mix. Oh, and he had the most fantastic overbite I'd ever seen. He reminded me of derp master Tuna of internet fame: http://www.tunameltsmyheart.com/

Waffles in his kennel at the shelter

A few days later, we pulled "foot dog" under Jake's Wish Dog Rescue and brought him home to safety. He hopped out of the shelter like a champ on three legs. Nothing was going to stand in his way - he was heading for the good life now. It was so sad knowing he belonged to someone who bothered to put a shock collar on him, but didn't bother to go looking for him when he ended up in the shelter. A lovely owner, for sure. And no - he's not a barky guy. His foot looked rough, so I bandaged it for the first day we had him in order to keep him from stress licking. This made it worse, so we went open air healing and cone of shame from that point on until it dried up enough to stop oozing. We suspected he'd gotten hit by a car. He had a few other minor scrapes and bruises on his body, but just the bad one on his foot. Fortunately, x-rays showed no broken bones. After our experience with Raven's horrible carpal wound, which was far worse than this guy's, we knew we could get him fixed up no problem. You can read my main post on Raven's story here: http://ohfortheloveofdogs.blogspot.com/2013/10/raven-rough-start-for-sweet-girl.html

Waffles and his derptastic overbite

We needed to come up with a name for "foot dog", so we enlisted the help of Facebook and asked our friends to chime in. One of our friends in Chicago suggested "Waffles". We are from Atlanta where chicken and waffles is sort of a popular thing, however goofy it may seem. We decided to go with Waffles because of his goofy personality. He needed a silly sort of name. Turns out a lot of Californians don't really understand the whole chicken and waffles bit, but oh well. Waffles it is. As with every dog who comes through our house, Waffles has loads of nicknames: Waffy, Waffular, Chicken And, Waffle Taco, and Waffle Cone while he had to wear the cone of shame. I mean, really, how could we resist? 

Waffles enjoying the comfy couch

Waffles has the best personality ever. He's so ridiculously excited about life itself - it's contagious. He's happy-go-lucky, wiggly, snuggly, lovey, and just downright aderpable. I love his zest for life and his enthusiasm for everything. He's always happy to see you and he's never met a stranger. He loves other dogs and gets everyone to play. I just love his spirit. He's really a special little guy. Waffles will make a fantastic family dog. He'd love to have kids and other dogs to play with, then snuggle up with the family at night. It's just so wonderful to see him enjoying a comfortable life with the promise of safety and love. He deserves nothing less.

Earlier this week, Drew and I traded foster dogs with our rescue friends. Waffles went to their house and we took their foster, Mischa, who needs a change of scenery and extra socialization. Waffles is doing great at their house so far. He's got his favorite spot on the couch all figured out and he's loving their other dogs. I took him to the vet for a foot check up this morning. It's healing really nicely, with the exception of one toe. The nail looks pretty dead and will likely fall off, but that's ok. He's on antibiotics to ward off infection and he gets his foot soaked twice daily in a medicated rinse. How nice...anyhow, you can see how much progress his foot has made in just four short weeks! It's pretty amazing how resilient dogs are and how well they heal. Hopefully that toe improves.

Waffles is bearing weight pretty well on all fours. He still goes to three legs when he runs really fast or if he's feeling lazy, but for the most part I think he'll go back to walking normally once he's completely healed. He should be ready for adoption events in another week or so. Waffles is just such a special little critter. He's going to make someone out there super happy, we know it. He makes us laugh every day with his goofy face and wiggly booty. Then he melts our hearts when he curls up for snuggles in the evening. We're thankful that he gets to have a life beyond the identity of "foot dog" and that he finally knows what love feels like. Stay tuned for more on this low-rider goofball as he continues his journey toward furever! He's listed on Petfinder here if you'd like more adoption information: https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/31509770

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.