Unhappy Endings

I used to wonder how I'd react if I was ever bitten by a dog. Would I be angry? Furious? Demand the death of the animal? Be fearful? Just of the dog or all dogs? Freak out completely?

As it turns out, none of those things. Inside of the shock of the experience, there was only a deep, terrible sadness. Even as I staunched the blood, I knew my wound would heal but for the dog...it was fatal action.

A couple months ago I wrote about my foster "Aslan", named for his mane of fur. I wrote of his aggression and the fact I was going to work with him and with the behaviorist's recommendations. For the last month or so, that's what I've been doing. And Aslan had been doing well...or so I thought.

I noticed other forms of aggression I suspected might also be Retriever-snottiness, testing me, and because I wasn't sure which behavior was aggressive, if I was tripping a trigger, I actually asked last week if he could be moved to a foster home with more experience with aggressive dogs. Maybe someone who could perhaps reach through and have success with him.

But it wasn't to be. On Tuesday night, while I was brushing him, Aslan turned and bit me. No warning. I wasn't touching his nails. I wasn't trying to muzzle him. I wasn't doing anything to trip his trigger. He just decided to bite and followed through on the impulse.

I could feel his teeth puncturing my flesh - there was an actual sensation of it, followed by the white-hot pain, and hot on the heels of that...the shock. And then the emotion - I knew in that very moment that it was a death sentence for him. I stood there, hand over the wound, knowing that as he laid there, ears flat out to the side, teeth bared, that it was over.

I was shaking a bit, and already crying, my breath rasping in my throat. I forced myself to calm down and do what clearly needed to be done. I went into the kitchen, grabbed a paper towel to soak up the blood, got a look at it, and took some photos of the bite - pretty hard to do but managed to get a few. (I did this partially to document, partially to, at some point, get an objective look at it later.) After that I washed the wound with soap and hot water - gently. And sprayed the hell out of it with Bactine. At some point I managed to wander into the bathroom and grab my old Ski Patrol pack with all my First Aid supplies, pull out some sterile pads and tape and patch myself up. I had to use a bandanna for a bit of a pressure dressing.

Doing this forced me to focus for a while, clear my head (well, as much as one can clear one's head when one is bleeding), and think about how best to proceed.

I called Aslan's adoption representative to let her know of the incident and asked her to call me in the morning. She called back immediately, and we discussed what would happen in all likelihood. I said that I wasn't angry and it was the truth; I wasn't. But I also was very clear in that I felt Aslan could not be adopted. He was too unpredictable - he would really hurt someone. I stood there bleeding, knowing the consequences of every possible course of action. None of them good.

And I was crying, and I was upset, and dang it, that bite HURT!

And then I had to act as calmly and normally as possible, for I don't have a fenced yard. I had to take the dogs out to do some business. It went fine.

Wednesday morning, when I awoke and changed the bandage, I realized I had to go to the doctor. No avoiding it - I needed a tetanus shot and likely a round of antibiotics. Although had I gone in immediately there probably would have been a couple stitches, as I waited until the next day it was too late for that.

Later that day Aslan's representative called me. His case had been discussed at length and sentence had been passed. He had to be euthanized. 

I knew that would be the verdict and yes, I agreed. Not out of anger, but out of realization that he was too unpredictable to be adopted. When a trigger can't be isolated, when every little thing becomes the trigger...that can't be helped. It can't be trained out of the dog. He made his decision, his terrible, terrible decision.

Unfortunately, it couldn't happen immediately. I had to wait and so my heart has been heavy and I've been weeping off and on for the last two days. Even amidst the stress of my professional life, I've had to push back the tears and profound sadness. At home I was on egg shells, careful not to make eye contact with the dog, careful not to trip on him or set him off. He was clearly also on "different" behavior, always watching me with a wary eye. Not baleful, just wary, as if waiting for a counter-attack.

Tonight I spoiled him with his last leisurely walks, hotdogs with his food, no longer concerned with his weight.

I drove to the vet clinic and played the song I always sang to him, "Little Red Riding Hood", realizing this big bad wolf had shown all his cards. All I could think about was the old folk tale about the snake who said to his savior, "You knew what I was when you picked me up."

Yes, I did. On some level, I did, and then after seeing him in action, yes, I knew. But I kept him anyway, hoping things could be different for him.

Tonight we said goodbye to my foster and I remained with him. I sat with him, I petted him, I forgave him. This evening before leaving home I actually looked into his big hopeful brown eyes and told him I forgave him. I apologized, too, for whatever I did to make him bite me. I apologized for what we were about to do.

It didn't matter to Aslan that I forgave him. He didn't know the difference, but I do. I knew I could not be in that room with him as he was put to sleep if I was angry. He had experienced far too much of human anger in his short life, and for me, I knew anger would only do more damage to my very soul. In truth I forgave him almost immediately, but I had to speak it. I had to say it out loud while looking into his eyes. 

And I prayed, too. I offered him back to God, Aslan's creator and my own. I know that even though animals do not have immortal souls, God cares about them. He has shown me that over and over again. [Note: please don't try to argue this point in the combox. I'm not in the mood and you won't get anywhere. Just let it go]

One of the things I resolved about about fostering animals is that, if they are in rough shape in some way, they will leave my hands in better condition than that which they arrived into my care. In some ways, Aslan was better. He'd lost weight, had more energy, was far happier than when he had first come to me. He wasn't in pain all the time. He showed me his best side, I think, in his clownishness and in his clear desire just to be a normal dog.

Oh, the tales I could tell!

As this was not a happy ending, though, I'm not sure if I can claim that kind of success with this particular dog. He didn't leave my hands better off. Healthier, but...no longer living. Yes, it was the decision that had to be made, but I hardly call this a successful foster experience. I think the best I can say is that I tried, we all tried, and even in its imperfection, the last several weeks of Aslan's life were probably better than they had been before.

We'll never know, though. We can only guess.

Dammit, Aslan, you big fat  stupid butterball of fluff with teeth, I loved you and I miss you! Rest in peace, my friend. You will never ever have to be afraid ever again.

Big Bad Wolf

I'll never forget taking my first dog I adopted as an adult to an obedience class. The instructor informed us in no uncertain terms that we have taken wolves into our homes and we should expect them to be...wolves. Not human babies. As strong as the temptation is to want to "humanize" our pets, it's the worst thing we can do, because of course, they don't think the same, they don't "feel" the same, and, well...their genetic makeup is fully canine.

He was right. 

Now that I've had several dogs, both my own and fosters, come through my home, I've come more and more to understand what he was talking about. Especially now.

A couple weeks ago I took in another foster, a mix of a couple of the most beloved breeds, and things were going well - until I took him in to the groomer. His nails were terribly overgrown and he was clearly in pain so I insisted we get this taken care of as soon as possible, and certainly before a pending adoption.

Unfortunately, the grooming didn't go well. I'd warned the groomer that he was sensitive about his nails and she was ready for him. She gave him a chance, he snapped at her so she went to get the muzzle. The groomer approached him with the muzzle, didn't even touch him when, without any warning whatsoever, the dog  lunged and bit her, drawing blood.

She's fine, but the dog's future is in question. I got him into the Rescue's vet this last week to get his nails trimmed, but because of the bite risk, the appointment was nearly as traumatic for me as it was for the dog. Both the dog's placement coordinator and I were careful to caution the staff not even to approach him with a muzzle or someone would be bitten. They prepped the sedatives and took even more precautions to ensure he wouldn't bite when the needle went in. (I think he's fine with needles but when a dog has bitten the logical thing is to ensure it doesn't happen again, especially when the dog is already stressed.)

My foster had to be given drugs twice and STILL had fight in him when it came to the muzzle. He was completely out...but when the muzzle approached he leapt into action. Actually bit the Vet Tech once, forcing him to have to get the "cat gloves" and the hapless (and brave!) VT would have been totally torn up without them by the time they were finally successful.

Indeed, the dog's nails were finally clipped, and the good Veterinarian did indeed deem it to be "medically necessary", even prescribed painkillers for what may be an arthritic knee. She was able to do a good exam while he was out cold (and muzzled), and I'm thankful - because he almost bit me a couple days later when I barely and unintentionally brushed against his bad knee.

So as it goes, my foster, whom I am calling "Aslan" because he has a huge mane and, well, isn't a "tame lion, you know", has a behavioral evaluation tomorrow. All the rescues are temperament tested before they go to a foster, but when problems are identified, they get more intense scrutiny.

Life in the Balance

I grew up hearing from our Mom that if our dog ever bit anyone, she would be "put down". No question. My Mom was raised on a farm and it was unacceptable for a family pet (usually kept outdoors in their case) to bite a human being. I don't disagree with that standard. However, I have come to realize there is room to allow for hope, and that also comes from the same Christian upbringing. While Jesus did not die for animals, he did give we humans dominion over them and the ability to use reason - and training - to properly steward these creatures.

Sometimes humans do horrible things to animals and cause behaviors the animals themselves would not choose if not completely traumatized. Some of those things CAN be overcome. A dog is not a shark; the taste of blood from a bite does not automatically mean that a dog will start biting indiscriminately. They don't have interest in that; they bite for a REASON. Find the reason and perhaps they can be saved.

That is the case with this dog. I'm sure of what happened to him:  his paws and nails were never handled and were totally neglected for care. When it came time that they HAD to be done, they didn't work with him, decided to muzzle, forced the muzzle on (again without training), took him down and hacked off the talons, probably causing pretty major pain. This probably happened more than once, and NOT by professionals, but by whoever owned the dog.

His aggression triggers seem to be limited to any kind of ongoing pain, his nails, muzzle - and anything that would be painful. This is a scary thing. Right now he can't be trusted; even I won't push him if I'm not sure how he's going to react. I'm careful to watch every bit of his body language so as to avoid setting him off.

Tomorrow, I'm taking this boy to the Rescue's Behaviorist for an evaluation. My understanding is that the Behaviorist will trip "Aslan's" triggers with what we know and I guess, push the envelope in other ways as well. She will determine if we can work to desensitize him and give me instructions as to how to go about it.

Years ago I had a dog who was both fear-aggressive (nonspecific triggers) and had major separation anxiety. While it's nice to have had that experience under my belt, and while that past experience helps me to have no irrational fear about the dog in my care now, I claim no expertise. This is very much a learning experience and as this is not my dog but merely a foster, his LIFE depends upon tomorrow's meeting and what I am able to do, with the Behaviorist and the dog going forward.

So...I realize many people have had bad experiences with dogs and may have grown up just as I did, with the equation of "Bite = Death". Please let me introduce this dog to you in the way I see him every day:

"Aslan" is the perfect gentleman inside the house.  He sits on command, is completely housetrained, stays in my room at night and remains quiet even when my usually-quiet GSD barks at something.  I usually wake up to find "Aslan" lying directly next to my bed waiting to greet me. When I do arise he tries to circle and is only hindered by his girth as he's about 30 pounds overweight. (He should weigh 50 - 60 lbs max but weighs over 91 lbs).

"Aslan" has probably lost a couple pounds since he came to me, and LOVES his walks. In the beginning he struggled with the short ones but now tries to lead the way and I have to keep him from crowding and "herding" me on our regular walks. On bad days, as he has maybe a little arthritis in his knee, he lags and may sit - that's become a cue to me to take him home.  For now he's on anti-inflammatories which hopefully will help and I think already have done so!

"Aslan" defers to my GSD (as Queen Bee of this house!) and prefers the floor to the dog bed but still finds his way to the dog-designated futon when it suits him. He's directable and loveable. He loves attention, wants to be petted, knows how to "shake" and takes treats so perfectly an infant could offer it to him without a mother's moment of worry.

The other day I discovered "Aslan" likes it when I sing, but tonight, I learned his favorite song is "Lil' Red Riding Hood", Amanda Seyfried's version. The very moment I began singing he sat up, after awhile started to vocalize every time I stopped, and when I sat on the floor, still singing, he came over, laid his head in my lap, rolled over so I could rub his (considerable!) belly, and then stood only so that he could turn around and sit in my lap to be petted.

This is a wonderful dog and it breaks my heart that he has been so traumatized that his fear has driven him to draw blood from human beings. "Aslan's" nature is to be someone's buddy. He's protective, he's cuddly, and he's obedient.

And his life is in danger; not because of the Rescue or because of me, but because some people in his past have so traumatized an innocent creature to the degree that we may be unable to un-ring that particular bell.

Comparisons

There are some who think the lives of animals mean nothing, or try to compare the lives of human babies to those of animals. There is no comparison. As a Catholic, I know it is both-and. While I give far more weight to the life of a human child, that does not mean that some of us have not been called to the area of Catholic Social Teaching in the area of Stewardship for Creation. I am not a mother, I do not have children. I am Pro-Life and work professionally with religious organizations that promote the end to abortion and contraception.

But in my personal time, because I am able, I find I can help some animals, I have gifts in this area, and right now there is a life in my care. Some human beings in this dog's past put his life in danger through really horrible abuse, and all the work I do with this I offer in reparation on behalf of those who hurt him. I have hope that this dog will respond to training and hope that tomorrow's evaluation will go well. I am assured of support from the entire Rescue.


Everything I do for animals I do even more for human beings, for every service to the former is ordered to the eternal life of the latter.

And since now I know "Aslan's" favorite song, I will sing it to him as often as necessary to tame the bad wolf within him.

Divine Pedagogy

Well, the end of my Advent is shaping up to be...not at all what I planned or expected.

Remember the puppy from last week? Well, on Monday he went to a new foster home with children, more space - everything he could need! I've seen pictures and can say confidently that it was the right decision and even though I loved the little rug rat, he needed far more than I could offer, and my own dog needed far less than that pup was offering her!

After that experience, of course, my week was pretty calm and I finally got most of my Christmas cards out.

Then yesterday (Saturday), I received an email - could I emergency-foster a 1.7 month old Rottweiler who needed to be moved from his current foster home ASAP? I looked up his info on the rescue's web page, called the rep back and obtained a little more info on him. It seemed appropriate to take the risk.I said Yes.

We introduced my dog and the newcomer on neutral ground and walked them back to my house where they actually began to play. The young Rottweiler, however, was not quite really understanding play-time. He first didn't seem to understand my dog's play-bow in his direction, then started "copying" her moves - it was quite hilarious! My favorite, though, took place much later in the evening after he'd had his dinner. While my dog finished checking his bowl for crumbs, he began inviting her to play. He pounced and pounced and wheeled around and play-bowed - to my dog's butt! She was totally oblivious to the desperate drama taking place behind her.

Unfortunately, though, although all of this was hilarious, it again quickly got very old for my dog and she began seeking solace from me just to get away from the young dog's playful advances. I also ran into a great deal of frustration as the dog is still "intact" (ahem!) and as such, has a hobby of "marking". It doesn't matter how often I have taken him in and out throughout the evening and day. The moment we come back in he's alternating between trying to chew on me (OW!) and lifting his leg on something. I have to watch him very closely and the moment he even SEEMS to be sniffing I yell a warning to him so that he will desist.

The best, though, was this morning. We must have walked for about 45 minutes or an hour and he absolutely REFUSED to "poo". We got inside, I took his leash off thinking perhaps he'd go next time I took him out. As long as it took to turn my back, he had peed and pooped all over the floor!

I cleaned it up, took him out and threw the "refuse" in an area of the yard so that he would associate that with the business that belongs OUTSIDE.

Somewhere in the middle of scrubbing the carpet...and the chair...and the carpet there....again...I realized it would behoove me to buy stock in "Nature's Miracle." As it was, I had to go back to the pet store today to get MORE of it!

Now, it is a consolation that this dog won't be with me for long. I know someone is already interested and I advised his rep that I can't take him with me for Christmas. He's far too rambunctious and out-of-control and I'm terrified he'll both pee all over my brother's house and potentially knock my mother down. Not a good risk.

Mind you, this dog is not mean or aggressive. He's just a very large puppy who doesn't understand manners. He's also cooped up right now in a small house with no way to run freely to get his energy (and other stuff - ahem) out.

So it was this morning that I mused and prayed and mused again on my way to Mass. I swore to myself I would NEVER take another puppy again because both my dog and my house are just not good for puppies. As it is, I'll have to kennel the creature so I can wrap Christmas gifts, and I can't actually get anything done unless it's something that can be completed in 5 minutes with a constant shift of attention to see where the dog is and what he might be sniffing. Or chewing, for that matter. (He really likes my cedar chest.)

I'm having to develop ADHD as a coping mechanism!

Then it struck me: NOW I know what's going on!

At the beginning of Advent I once again offered a little prayer and asked God to help me become more patient, more caring, to grow in virtue in these areas. I shuddered as I offered the prayer because those virtues, much like asking for humility, tend to be answered with a Divine bat upside the head!

This afternoon while I wrote a "bio" for the foster dog to help him be adopted, I still felt frustrated and found I had to dig to really look for this dog's great points. I know he's a good dog and deserves a good home. I know he's more rambunctious with me because he's free to move around, has another dog to play with (when she does play), has a person to walk him and pet him and give him awesome food. He's responsive, he is protective, he is playful and won't let me out of his sight. That means he bonds quickly. He is exactly what a healthy dog of his age should be, minus a bit of training for he has clearly been neglected in that area.

In other words, what does he need from me? Patience and understanding!

OK, God, I get it. Thank you for answering my prayer. *sigh* 

My dear friends, do take care what you ask from God, because if you mean it (and He always knows if you do or not, even if it's only a little), He WILL answer. And seriously, I mean it, BE CAREFUL!

I'm just sayin'....if you ask for patience, humility, or a chance to sacrifice....God might answer your prayer just like He answered mine: by sending you a  65 lb unschooled young Rottweiler!  

How to Foster a Puppy

Well, it wasn't part of my Advent plan, but a last-minute thing came up, and as it turns out, I'm fostering a puppy.

Yup. A puppy.

Yesterday afternoon when I was asked to do this, and told it was a "six-month old shepherd mix" I pictured the first dog I adopted as an adult: a 60 lb nearly-grown puppy. Well, much to my surprise, last night when the bundle of joy was introduced to me I found about a 25 lb small puppy who could properly be named "Jaws."

So! For all you dog lovers out there, I thought I'd provide a helpful "how-to" in case you, too, are interested in fostering a puppy!

Without further ado....

HOW TO FOSTER A PUPPY

1. Pick up the puppy, get dog food, make sure you have a crate of some type, some squeaky toys, and treats.

2. Drive home.  Pull over on the way and remove the seat belt from the puppy's mouth. Carefully re-enter traffic and continue driving home. When you arrive, be sure to introduce your dog to the puppy on as "neutral ground" as you can manage.

3. If safe to do so, leave the puppy in the car while you run to get your dog, let her go potty, and then go to the car to get the puppy.

4. Open the car door while holding your dog's leash firmly. Scramble to half-catch the puppy as he tries to explode from the car, barely manage to grab the leash while gritting your teeth against the pain of rope-burn.

5. Untangle the leashes.

6. Watch the dogs as they are introduced - does the resident dog seem too intense? Hackles up? Baring teeth? Or just sniffing cautiously.

7. Remove the puppy from the astonished resident dog's head.

8. Untangle the leashes again.

9. Go for a walk. Make sure the male puppy doesn't pee on the resident dog. Ensure the puppy doesn't consume resident dog's poo. (Sorry, necessary warning!) Try not to step in said poo while untangling leashes again, and try not to fall in said poo when leashes are tangled around one's legs.

10. Return home. As resident dog is "in charge", make sure to support the alpha by removing her leash first no matter how annoying the puppy is in inhibiting you from doing this. Once resident dog is free and no longer entangled in either leash, drop the puppy's leash and let it drag for awhile just in case you need to snatch him back outside or away from something. Give him freedom to sniff around to get to know his new surroundings. Just watch him like a hawk.

11. Take the shoe away from the puppy. Hand him his squeaky toy.

12. Introduce the puppy (gently!) to the kennel. Go outside to bring the car in and get the rest of the puppy's toys from the car.

13. Let the puppy out of the kennel. Let the dogs "romp" a bit if it seems to be going well.

14. Take the piece of paper away from the puppy and replace it with a chew toy.

15. Remove the puppy from the couch.

16. Go into the kitchen to get the dog food ready.

17. Return to the livingroom at the sound of a very loud YIPE! followed by the resident dog slinking into the kitchen with her ears back. Ask who bit whom?

18. Take the blanket throw from the couch away from the puppy. Replace it with one of his chew toys. Watch him squeak away happily at it. Praise him enthusiastically.

19. Go back into the kitchen. Kick the dogs out of the kitchen. Realize the resident dog is trying desperately to get away from the puppy. Allow the resident dog into the kitchen and put the baby gate up. Watch the puppy sitting outside the gate wagging his tail hopefully and looking up at you with big puppy eyes.

20. Feed the dogs their dinner, return to the livingroom with a movie to watch. Sit on the couch with the resident dog who is still trying to get away from the puppy. Watch the puppy invite the resident dog to play. Watch the resident dog bare her teeth in warning because she does not want to play. Watch the puppy persist. When ignored, watch the puppy first bite the resident dog's tail and then her paws. Watch that not be a very popular course of action from the perspective of the resident dog.

21. Remove the puppy from the resident dog's presence and place yourself in between them so as to run interference.

22. Rewind the movie several times as you have not been able to actually watch this scene yet.

23. Realize sitting on the couch is not helpful so sit on the floor on the dog bed against the couch with a squeaky toy and try to contain the puppy. Rewind the movie again.

24. Watch the puppy as he roams and seems to be "sniffing" for a spot. Take the puppy out. Remove the leash from his mouth. Realize he doesn't want to go "out". Return inside.

25. Rewind the movie again. Sit back down with a toy and the puppy. Try to give the resident dog a lot of praise and attention too.

26. Watch the puppy sniff around on a rug and squat. Yell "NO!" and grab the puppy's leash. Throw a paper towel over the soiled spot and take the puppy out, praise him when he finishes going potty outside. Bring him back in. Remove the leash from his mouth. Try not to play tug-of-war in doing so.

27. Go get "Nature's Miracle", soak up as much of the mess out of the berber carpet as you can, spray the spot with the cleaner, soak it up, repeat. Take a shoe away from the puppy. Return to cleaning the rug. Put the cleaning implements away. Take the soiled paper towel away from the puppy and deposit it in the garbage. (The paper towels, not the puppy!)

28. Return to the movie. Rewind it again. Play "fetch" several times with the puppy.

29. Accidentally get into a "tug-of-war" game with the puppy. Make sure you win!

30. YIPE loudly when puppy accidentally bites you while you are winning the tug-of-war game you didn't intend to play.

31. Sit down at the computer to write about "how to foster a puppy".

32. Find it endearing that he is sitting on your feet while chewing on a proper toy. Hear a crunch and remove the teddy bear's eye from the puppy's mouth. Return to typing.

33. Realize the puppy is investigating computer wires. Push the puppy away and block the area with another object. Give the puppy a toy. Return to typing.

34. Hear another crunch. Remove the other teddy-bear's eye from the puppy's mouth.

35. Pet the puppy because he is really really cute! Remove your shirt sleeve from the puppy's mouth. Tell the puppy to get a toy. Remove your pant leg hem from the puppy's mouth. Tell him again to get a toy.

36. Realize you ARE what the puppy considers to be a "toy". Stand up and get a proper chew toy. As the puppy comes at you with a a wide open mouth ready to bite you again, stuff the toy in his mouth and watch him squeak away happily. Go sit down and rewind the movie.

37. Realize it is late. Take the puppy  and resident dog outside to go potty, put the puppy in his kennel and go to bed.

38. Get up in the morning, immediately get on the cold-weather gear and get the resident dog's leash on. Approach the kennel, leash in hand. Catch the puppy as he explodes out. Entirely miss him. Chase him off the couch. Take the couch pillow away. Try to catch him to put the leash on. Intervene when puppy pounces on resident dog who does NOT like being pounced upon. Try to catch the puppy. Take the couch pillow away again. Put it out of reach. Finally get the leash on. Untangle the leashes. Open the inner door. Untangle the leashes again. Praise resident dog for being so patient and quiet. Go outside with the dogs. Try not to slip on the ice when being pulled in several directions at once. Untangle the leashes again...

40. Welcome to life with a puppy!  (Don't worry, they grow out of it.....!)  ;-)

{ADDENDUM}

41. Notice how resident dog is getting snippier and snippier alternated with trying desperately to get away from puppy in active mode. Realize how this is not a good thing for either dog.

42. Contact dog's adoption representative to update and request he be moved to a more appropriate home.

43. Pray and wait for some hapless foster to take said adoption rep up on the offer to bring home the cutest puppy EVER!

44. Continuing working on maintaining peace in current home while scrambling to keep the puppy busy....

Foster Dog Update

Well, my new little foster has been with me for a week now, and while he's a bundle of wriggling happy joy when I wake up in the morning and when I come home from work, he's still terrified of every other human being he sees.

Although he's now met my next-door neighbors several times, and approaches them to investigate them gingerly, the second they speak or move, he flees to the end of his leash, shaking, cowering, clearly expecting something horrible to happen to him.

Inside, he will come when called, but once he is in my vicinity, he normally won't actually approach me without a great deal of coaxing. When I'm in one place, though, the only position he wants is one being velcroed to me - which really isn't very comfortable for me!

Interestingly enough, even in his fearfulness, his natural tendecy is to dominate, so this keeps me on my toes. His doggy behavior of pawing at me, of wanting to stand in my lap, to only lie where he wants to lie and persistenly remains even if I try to shove him away - these are all behaviors of a dominant dog that has been allowed to get away with it. It is very difficult to undo this and demonstrate to him that I am, in fact, the Alpha in my house, and because of this, he doesn't get the "cuddle-time" he perhaps wants. First he has to learn his place in the heirarchy, and when he is behaving, then I will give him attention.

It's good that I've taken a few dogs through obedience training, for the things I learned there are helping me to rein in this little guy who is one moment terrified, the next moment trying to be alpha.

He is clearly more and more comfortable in my home every day, and I hope that it eventually translates to him losing his fear of every other human being on the planet. He's eating and drinking normally, although he still struggles with the idea of having to go potty while attached to the leash. We had an unfortunately potty-training incident last night resulting from the leash issues and his fear of people.

Yesterday afternoon and evening I took the dogs first for a long walk, and then, because he (yay!) helped himself to the water bowl afterwards, I took him out every half hour or so. Unfortunately because it was a nice day, the neighbors were outside by one of their vehicles.

They weren't doing anything crazy, just standing there conversing. To Apollo, though, they were a terrible distraction and he apparently wasn't able to do his business because of it.  So I continued to take him out. Every time, there was a noise, such as a loud "BANG!" from the apartment complex nearby, the sound of a door opening on the neighbor's deck as he came out to smoke, another neighbor's puppy standing on their deck, kids playing street hockey on the other driveway of our townhome cluster.  There was always something.

So it was that not 10 minutes after taking my GSD out to go, Apollo relieved himself on a plastic bag filled with dog toys, and caused me to exhaust what remained of my enzyme cleaner.

And yet, I couldn't exactly discipline him without causing even more fear and a huge setback. Sure, I took him outside, but by then, he was done. Too late.

Ah, the joys of fostering. *sigh*

I am back to not trusting him, though - and will continue treating him as if he is NOT housetrained all until he becomes more trustworthy about actually going potty outside in spite of the annoying presence of people who have absolutely no interest in him whatsoever.

I do hope someone will adopt him soon, for he is a wonderful dog that just needs a good, mostly-quiet home with someone who will be patient and understanding with him. His fear isn't going to go away any time soon, but a good forever home, maybe one with a fenced yard that will give him freedom to run safely, will go a long ways towards allowing him to be the dog he is supposed to be!

In the meantime, I am doing my best with him and am thrilled every time I see his happy joyful personality and his happy-waggy tail! 

Oh, and those big brown eyes will suck you in and make you melt if you aren't careful!   ;-)

Meet My New Foster: Apollo!

Well, my friends, I have my new foster and suspect he won't be with me for long.

Why? Well, he's small, he's sweet, and he is meant for someone special!

Meet Apollo, who arrived in Minnesota just yesterday. Because I had to work, another volunteer met his transport and gave him a safe haven until I could take him into my custody. When I called her to let her know I was leaving work, the first thing she said was "Oh, you're going to love him!".

When we met, I got out of my car to meet the volunteer and introduce myself, thank her for taking the dog for a few hours, and then realized I was completely freaking him out with my very normal behavior; this poor dog was at the end of his leash, as far from both of us as he could get and when he stopped...he was shaking.

I immediately dropped my voice and my knee at the same time, giving him a chance to approach and sniff me while his volunteer and I discussed what we knew about him. Although I tried to reach out, he shied away from my hand, and the other volunteer showed me he did the same for her, although, she said, he'd warmed up to her considerably in only a couple hours.

People, it takes a lot of work to make a dog this fearful. And it takes a lot more work to undo that kind of damage. 

The awesome thing about dogs, though, is that they are very forgiving and these domesticated creatures are bred to love humans in spite of ourselves. So it was that he shied away but tolerated my touch, and as soon as I opened the front door in order to hit the button for the trunk for his food, he climbed inside and made himself at home on the front seat.

Thankfully he was very open to being taken out and moved to the back seat, and true to form, made himself just as comfy there and en route home, went right to sleep.

Poor lil' guy! Just yesterday he rode from his temporary foster home in Iowa all the way to Minnesota with a bunch of other dogs, went to yet another very temporary foster home, and then had to survive the chaos of being transfered and transported yet again!

Clearly, though Apollo is very mellow, and while he was also clearly very anxious, he was just fine in his temporary "kennel", that being my car, while I moved a few things inside, leashed my dog and went back out to him in order to bring him around for as proper an introduction I could manage given the circumstances.

When I first entered the house, my German Shepherd had known something was up - her johnny-on-the-spot nose was pressed right up against my clothing, getting to know the new dog. So it was, when I opened the door to let her out, she wasn't surprised but ,being her, was still a bit overbearing. Apollo clearly wanted to be in a corner somewhere.

Instead, we went for a short walk so my dog could go potty and they could get to know each other...and hopefully he would go potty, too.

They both did, but of course I had to pull my GSD's head away from the stream. *ahem*

When we returned, I immediately introduced Apollo to the kennel and he dove right inside, with great doggy gratitude, and curled up in a corner. I left his leash on, certain that if I tried to remove it I'd never be able to coax him out again.

In the meantime I prepared their respective bowls, and served him his dinner in the kennel. I gotta admit: I have no idea how much to feed this little guy and I'll tell you why:  We all thought he was a Greyhound mix, but as it turns out, he's far too small, so we now think he's a Whippet mix. That doesn't help figure his food, though, because, like Greyhounds, Whippets have a high metabolism so they must be fed MORE than other breeds of the same weight. The problem is further complicated by the fact that Apollo is still a bit underweight, even for Whippet constitution.

Happily, he was hungry and ate what I gave him, although he wouldn't approach the water bowl. I should have remembered to give him water mixed with his food!

During the evening, he remained in the kennel with the door open, venturing out occasionally for a little attention when offered, then promptly returned and curled up.

He's a very very frightened little dog, and I knew he was also very tired from his long confusing day. Because of this, I decided to let him stay where he was and I slept on the couch nearby so that he'd both get used to my presence and would hopefully not get too lonely. (I have done this with all my dogs, both adopted and fostered and find it useful in many respects to identify behavior problems and of course, to acclimate them.)

Good Morning!

Apollo didn't make a peep all night, and in fact, when I got up at 6 or so (on my day off!), as soon as I let him out of the kennel he was a bundle of shaking, wagging, happy joy waiting for me at the door in hopes of going out!

Unfortunately, we were in the middle of a thunderstorm and although my German Shepherd didn't care, Apollo wasn't thrilled. He still cooperated with being walked around the yard, but was not interested in doing anything other than returning indoors.

Yup. Whippet.

I'm still trying to get a sense of him and he has indeed warmed up to me very quickly. He seems to be house trained and obviously kennel-trained.

At the same time, things common to most dogs are objects of curiosity for him. This morning on our walk (when the rain had stopped) we had to pause so he could watch the Canadian Geese strut through the park. Then, at another point, we had to take a break so he could study the flapping American flag far over his head.

He's curious, he's taking everything in and therefore clearly intelligent as his first response to new things tends to be to stop and LOOK at it, really LOOK and see what it is. All he asks is that we stop long enough for him to do so.

Nope. This little guy doesn't miss a thing.

Good Afternoon Mr. Mix! 

This afternoon we watched a movie and he'd been cuddled against me, but couldn't help but react to the dog sounds, and then when people got to be loud and shouting, he stood up and ran around, looking for the source of those voices. In part, he was certain I was doing it, but after a bit he understood that I was not shouting, nor was anyone in the house.  Movies remain a mystery to him, but not such much that he couldn't return to the couch, curl up, and have a nice nap.

The unfortunate thing about living in a townhome without a private fenced yard is this: there are other people and dogs around, and many people don't consider it important to supervise and leash their own dogs.

I took Apollo out to try to go potty, which he seems to have a hard time doing in the yard. I suspect he's been allowed to run freely and doesn't understand about going pee at the end of a leash. He does on a longer walk just fine, but the reality of a dog's life is this: sometimes they have to do business within a structured area without the benefit of a long wonderful walk.

Well, in the meantime, other people were around and tried to approach. I warned them off especially seeing his reaction at their approach: he was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane! When my dog, unleashed, approached to invite him to play, he hid behind me, terrified.

Then my neighbor, clearly understanding the situation and staying back, saw that another neighbor had let their dogs out..unleashed and unsupervised. She spoke a warning to me, her own voice low so as not to startle my little charge.

Of course the unleashed dogs approached and poor Apollo cowered, shaking, terrified. I yelled (well, raised my voice a little) to the unseen neighbor to come leash their dogs. She came out, saw what was happening and came towards us, apologizing. Her dogs were fine, not aggressive, so I just explained the fear of my little foster dog, which she could see. Although I didn't prefer it, she approached and petted him trying to make amends. He was obviously fearful but, having nowhere to go, accepted her touch. This may turn out to be a good thing in the end.

I thanked her for coming to get her dogs while I held mine and brought them in.

What is he?

Lemme tell you this: doesn't matter what he is: he won't be with me for long!

When I first saw his picture online, it said Apollo was a Greyhound mix.

"Great!" I said. I know Greyhounds. My older readers will remember my Greyhound, Fire, and his story of osteocarcoma (bone cancer) and the resulting end of his life.

So it was that I saw Apollo on MARS web page, and that grey-lover in me, knowing them as the specialty breed they are, had to step forward and offer my home once again.

Well, Apollo isn't a Greyhound, but he has some of the characteristics. What is less visible but more a part of his personality, though, is not his Whippet-ness, but the part of him that is part of his mix.

You see the pictures, so let's talk about the elephant in the room:  I believe Apollo is a Whippet-Pitbull mix.

What does that mean?

You've seen the media drama, you all have stories about "Pit-bulls".  So do I.

Really, there's no such animal as a "Pitbull" or "Pit-Bull".

Rather, there are about three breeds that are commonly CALLED "Pitbulls", and they share characteristics, but you need to know that there is no such thing. There is such thing as some poorly-bred dogs, of any breed and most particularly a certain three, that are making the name for a certain profile...and what you see in popular media, as usual, is not accurate.

This dog, Apollo could be either Whippet-"Pit" or Whippet-Boxer or Whippet-Bulldog. He is small, has a skinny little body and a large bully-type head with big brown eyes and at the other end of his brindle body, a white-tipped tail ready to wag for anyone willing to love him. Even though he is fearful, he is looking to his humans for protection, eager to cuddle up, eager to cooperate. I'm not sure I've ever met a dog easier to love than this one. He's a canine kewpie-doll.

Apollo exemplifies the best of his breed mix, and that's why he won't be with me for long. He is sweet, eager to please, interested in his surroundings, and although fearful, is not aggressive. Several years ago I adopted a dog that started out fearful and quickly revealed his aggressive nature: this does not exist in Apollo. His fear is one that can be quickly tamed by simple everyday treatment. Be gentle, be quiet, be patient. Let him reveal himself.

He's a family dog, and while I've never heard him bark, I believe he will be loyal, protective (not aggressive), and loving. He would rather flee than bite the hand that feeds him. Incidentally, the only sound that has come out of him thus far was a tiny little snore as he rested in my lap while I sipped my coffee during the morning news.

Apollo needs a special person, and belongs to a special person who has not yet been identified. With him I broke a cardinal rule: not to let foster dogs climb on my furniture, for I don't know what his future owner will allow. This dog isn't a German Shepherd or other working breed...he's a lapdog.

So! That rule has been withheld for now. He needs to be curled up on the couch or bed, because he is small and because he is seeking love and companionship that is not likely to come down to him on the floor.  This is a dog meant for someone who loves to read or watch movies with a cuddly living teddy bear of a canine.

What do we call him?

Last night when I picked him up, although I knew his name was "Apollo", when the other volunteer said his name, I could have sworn she had said "Paolo", the Italian version of "Paul".  He could also be called "Palito", "Little Paul".  Or even Paco! (Seriously, though, he's a "Paolo". Meet him and tell me different!)

I can't help it: I think that if he were my dog, I'd call him "Paolo". Either way, he responds to "Apollo" (Paolo not being a huge leap in sound), and his personality may well reveal other good names.

His breed mix, though, I have to say, offers a few suggestions should he become a prototype for the AKC.

If he's a Pitbull-Whippet, would that make him a "Bullwhip"?  Or maybe a "Whip-or-Bull"? (Say it fast - whiporwill!)

Probably doesn't matter. This lil' guy is a lover and I'm already sad because I know he won't be with me for very long. Give me some time, though, ok? I want to work with him, socialize him, and see if maybe he will stop shaking at every approach of a strange person or dog.

But if you REALLY think you need him now...shoot me an email and I'll send you on to the people that matter, and then Apollo (Paolo!) might be yours.  :-)

Kibbles n' Bits

Well, my friends, I'm doing it again.

I'm going to foster another dog. This one is a greyhound mix, although I'd inquired about a German Shepherd that looked to be a good fit at my house as a temporary home for him.  As it turned out, another foster home had claimed the GSD so I was put in touch with the person in charge of whatever category the grey-mix fits into.

He's a beautiful dog, quite a young one at only 11 months, but from the description given sounds to have the greyhound personality. That would work in my house and with my work hours, hopefully!

Unless his temporary foster home in another state adopts him (there is talk of this), then look for my new friend to be introduced early next week, complete with photos and new drama!

I guess I just can't help myself. I love dogs and I've got a heart for the unwanted.

In other news....

I'm as ditzy today as I was yesterday.  When I went to get dog food I handed over my Petco card, but failed to actually PAY for the purchase with my debit card. It took a few moments of me standing there confusedly waiting to sign a receipt that was not forthcoming.

Then after another errand I went to put something in my trunk and it wouldn't open. Not the button in the car, not the remote. It was stuck. No "click!" to unlock. Nothing.

Thankfully I was near my regular car repair place so I stopped in and asked for assistance. He went to the back to pull up on the trunk while I hit the interior button. Nothing.

Then he asked to see my keys. I was about to tell him the remote wasn't working either, when he pulled out my actual KEY and used THAT to open the trunk.

Wow! Why didn't I think of that!? D'OH!

I told him outright I felt stupid. He was nice and tried to make me feel better about being a total idiot and pointed out that the lock was, in fact, jammed due to obvious lack of use.

Guess that was my lesson in humility for today: I make fun of people who do the stupid things I did today with my "jammed" trunk.

*sigh*

Obviously I need a vacation.

Or maybe just a few more brain cells - some that actually function would be nice.

Kibbles and Bits and Bits and Bits

There's a lot going on in my life in spite of the fact I'm done with school.

Work has been insanely busy; I haven't had an actual weekend in maybe 6 weeks or more now, and I won't have a normal weekend this time around, either.  I can't seem to catch a break!  All I want is 2 days off, together. But no; not an option. Not even feasible! And in the meantime I have a couple volunteers directing a program at work and while they're doing incredible work with their talents, one of them seems to think I am her personal assistant and doesn't seem to grasp I'm juggling 10 different programs and hundreds of people and their own "demands."

Yup. God is helping me to grow in patience. I'm failing miserably, by the way and it's only His grace that has kept me from unleashing all the things I want to say but don't.

I'm looking forward to Memorial Day weekend like you wouldn't believe!

More Bits:

I'm planning a weekend of fun in June, after graduation.

On the discernment-and-supremely-cool front, in early July I'm heading out to visit a monastery where I will be studying iconography for a week and, bonus, living the monastic life while doing so! Given my ongoing discernment, I will be doing a lot of it there, too, even while writing icons in my paint clothes (which for me is my everyday stuff!)

Seriously, if someone is discerning one's vocation, is it even POSSIBLE to turn off the "discern-dar" when in a monastic setting and keeping to the schedule, especially when the community itself is supremely cool?

I'm thinkin' not so much.

No, I won't state where I am going. But I do ask that you keep this community, and me, in your prayers, and God bless their generosity for being willing to put up with me for a week!

Those were the Bits. Here's the Kibbles:

It looks like I'm going to be fostering again.

I received a desperate email from the dog rescue coordinator last night. One of the other coordinators has left the rescue, so she's doing double-duty and has 6 dogs coming in, terrified she won't be able to find foster homes for them in time.  I responded with my situation:  can't afford to do this right now, life is insane and several out-of-town trips coming up. (It's hard enough to find someone to take my dog! My dogsitters have lives, too!)

She guaranteed it would be a short-term emergency-only foster situation to buy her time to find a more permanent foster home, she will provide all food and other necessary expenses (normally foster homes would get the 1st bag with the dog, but all subsequent food is the responsibility of the foster.)

So I gave my conditional "yes" to the terms, and IF she doesn't find a place for the dog, he'll be spending Saturday night and a few days or weeks with my dog and I.

He's a German Shepherd mix, smaller than my dog (mine is pretty small for a Shepherd), he's only 2 and doesn't appear to have the fear/abuse issues my previous foster had. But, being young, I'll have to see which things he has a taste for. Books? Rugs? Furniture? Shoes?  Is he housetrained, kennel-trained, or obedience-trained at all?

Another Bit

For three years, there is a project I have wanted to take on. I asked a few of my professors whether they could explain in further depth a connection I was seeing in scripture, but they couldn't answer. Perhaps they couldn't answer because I couldn't properly formulate my question. As time as progressed, this "question' hasn't left my mind and so I have been waiting until I would finally have the time to pick up the thread and follow where it leads.

I'd rather not reveal the "question" as I have decided I am going to turn it into my first formal work. I am going to delve into scripture in a synthetic study, looking for how the topics are woven through the Bible, how they interrelate, and perhaps bring different disciplines within Theology into play in the final analysis.

Our professors have given us incredible tools for study, especially our scripture professors. I learned how to do synthesis, analysis, and exegesis. In considering this in light of Ecclesiology, of Sacramental theology, moral theology, fundamental theology...everything and more..I look forward to delving into this project.

I have already begun, in fact, to recognize the tools I will need, both practical and theological.

Perhaps this study has already been done. Even so, I think I will do this for perhaps I will still find another connection, another contribution to the study of theology. And if not, if nothing else it will draw me closer to Christ through a study of His Word.

That is always a good thing. Especially if it leads to a deeper conversion and therefore, a growth in holiness.

And boy-howdy, do I have a LOT of growing to do!


P.S:   
Seriously, people if you think you're holy and possess any virtue at all, go to work full-time in a parish. You'll be humbled before you even get a chance to blink and even in your humility you will understand that you aren't humble at all. Not even then.  And no...it never ends. 

Our Last Days

"Bear" is going home. And I might as well tell you his real name now, since hopefully by mentioning it, the people who work for vulnerable adults won't send the cops to my door:   his name is Grandpa.  Grandpa because he was the stud dog of a very evil breeder and saw many of his progeny come and go.

I've called him "Bear" here for many reasons, and yes, in real life I often, affectionately, call him "Grandpa-Bear", because in comparison to my dog, his grizzled face reminds me of a bear.

Late last night I got the news via voicemail, too late to call back.  Grandpa is being adopted by a woman who loves German Shepherds and has a special heart for senior dogs. The people who did the home visit (to verify she is not a hoarder, can properly care for a dog, etc) say that her dogs are very lucky;  they have their own couches, they will go to work with her (she is a veterinarian), and they live quite high on the hog, for dogs.  Doggie heaven on earth.

We couldn't have hoped for a better placement! Thanks for all who prayed....this is your answer!

But it is bittersweet, as I knew it would be.

I decided to foster because I know I am good with animals that have been abused and neglected. When this one came to me, he was skinny, stinky, weak, and fearful.

As he leaves my home and my hands, he is healthy, has been fed well, spoiled, likes belly-rubs and hugs (even "hugs" back if only to burp!), and has a personality that can bring a smile to a marble statue!  As far as his stinkiness...well....he's had a wonderful bath thanks to a generous donor, but there is something about male dogs....oy....they must need bathing more than sweet delicate females!  I think he already needs another one, but a good brushing will have to do!

Stewardship

God gives us gifts. Sometimes those gifts are only for a time. Remember the Parable of the Talents?

That's a perfect description of fostering a pet.  Grandpa came into my hands as a traumatized, underfed animal. He leaves my hands as a noble German Shepherd ready for a new home and a new life. He is in better condition now than he was when he arrived...and that's my job. That's the parable.

And it applies to EVERYTHING in our lives!

Yes, I'm going to miss my buddy, and I'm enjoying my last few days with him.

It's ironic, though. I gave up this and that for Lent, and realized some of the financial hardship in fostering is part of my lenten alms, for I don't have much to offer.  Yet...God has called me to give up Grandpa, and I find that to be far more draining than giving up sweets or potato chips.

And still...I have the sense that in this lenten almsgiving, I have gained a great deal more than I could EVER give up on my own.

As of noon on Saturday, he won't be "my" dog anymore, but he's going to a great home, and all I can do is thank God for the entire experience.

Kibbles & Bits

I've got a few things to report, so will start maybe with Kibbles:

The other day I was sent a link from Mike Thomas from BlogInterviewer.com stating that I had been recommended for an interview.  After perusing their site, I see that they are a sort of clearinghouse established to profile blogs of all sorts. I don't know who recommended me, but after taking a look at their interview form, I decided to go ahead and submit my answers. After all, haven't I stated that we Christians need to maintain a web presence?  This isn't like a press interview where they are seeking to railroad you and take your comments out of context in order to fit their bias.  

My Interview, Mr. Thomas informed me, has been posted and can be found here.

On a humorous note, It shows my last name as "aka".  My last name ISN'T "aka" but I am certain to start getting email addressed to me with that name, and may even adopt it as a pen name in the future!  It seems the interview form has limits and "aka 'Adoro'" was cut off. That's ok. I'll run with it.  :-)   In any case, it's a pretty straightforward site with all the simplicity of what it promises to be, and from what I can ascertain, people vote on blogs and based on the votes, one is chosen as the blog of the month.  I see that there are a couple other Catholic bloggers included, and I am familiar with both. (No I won't link to them as I expect you'll check them out NOW by clicking on the link!)

With that said, nice to "see" you Brother Vito and Paul!

OK, now, moving on to Bits:

Because my Foster Dog "Bear" has an adoring public, I find it necessary to continue to update on his progress.

He's as sweet as ever and has taken, like my dog, to carrying around a "happy toy" of some sort. Currently it is a little white teddy bear I once got from a boyfriend who made the mistake of treating me badly.  It's face is gone now and it's a dirty mess.  Bear always wants to take it outside so I have to remind him that it's an "indoor toy" and take it away.

He is a loyal friend, given to attention-seeking behavior such that I actually had to decrease his food intake for a couple days as he refused to eat if I wasn't standing at his head.  Refusing to play THAT game, once I recognized he was refusing his food, I took it away, then cut him short.  Very quickly he remembered what hunger was like and I'm happy to report that he has decided to eat without my constant attention, and without having to resort to weight loss. (Friends of mine who had similar behavioral problems with their dogs tell me that their own had to lose a couple pounds before they finally came around!).

So it seems that "Bear" is beyond the honeymoon stage and is now testing me. So far:  Adoro 1, Bear 0.

I tellya, if he wasn't so darn cute....!

In all honesty, as I look around my house which is even more so all sorts of furry, and I look to the sloppy outdoors, and I consider how easy life was with only one dog (mind you I don't have a fenced yard...every trip outside to go potty is a production and an endeavor), ...I can't WAIT to have only one dog again.  Two dogs are too much for me, too much for my house, and I fear, too much for my yard. I'm going to have to pay for fertilizer and grass seed in the spring, methinks, although I've started giving them tomato juice with their food.

I am reminded of the old Jewish folk tale of the man who went to the Rabbi to complain about the noisiness of his family and their overcrowded quarters. The wise Rabbi tells him upon each visit to add this or that animal to their household. In humility the man does as directed, thinking the Rabbi crazy and himself crazier for doing as told. Finally he has had enough and goes to the Rabbi, the Rabbi tells him to put all the animals where they belong. The man comes back the following week with a glowing report on the angelic and wonderful condition of his family and quarters.

I identified with that tale after Fire died, and I am reminded of it now as I house Bear.  Of course, he doesn't compare to the chaos of a donkey and a duck and a chicken and a goat, but still...even one extra animal in a space not built to contain it....

I further realize how ill equipped I am for this dog. He needs space to run around, and I can't give him that. I don't have a fenced yard, and really, the dog park near me gets so muddy that it's impractical to bring him there. In all this melting, I can't even let him run off leash in my yard, for he favors tearing through the puddles at the low point.  I can't bathe him here.

I do truly hope someone adopts him soon, not just for his benefit (for he really needs to find his forever home!)  but, selfishly, for my benefit, too. I have come to realize that having him here is part of my Lenten penance and alms, for with him I can't afford to give in any other way. I am very worried that I'll have to figure out how to pay for Frontline and Heartguard this spring, when I can barely afford it for my own dog, and I don't think those are covered by the Rescue organization.

But God provides, it's a good experience to have Bear here with us, and I know that what I am doing to work with him prepares him perfectly for the rest of his life, and I'm happy to be a part of that.  It all glorifies God in the end.

Promised Dog Update

I promised an update after this morning's post.

"Bear" did very well at his debut.  Although he hung very close to me for the most part, as expected,  if someone happened to pat him, he'd try to follow them for more attention. I was surprised to see it. He seemed to honestly be seeking that good attention and willing to meet strangers.

Although he did show his shyness and his puppy-playfulness was absent, this was a good thing as of course, in a crowd it is NOT good to bound around and pounce on random dogs!

At one point he was starting to growl, shake his head, scratch at his ear, and recognizing these as signs of over-stimulation, I took him out of the action and let him hang out in a sheltered area between two fire trucks.

Actually, to be more accurate, Bear decided to hang out UNDER the fire truck. I understood.

A couple people happened by and petted him a bit, but it was calming, not too much for him, and before long he was back on his feet and ready to be social again.

Maybe that's why I understand Bear so well....I'm just like him:  perfectly willing and happy to be social, but if I can't have time in isolation I'll growl and snap and tweak out, too!

Overall, I'm very proud of him;  Bear is indeed a completely different dog than he was when he came to me at the end of December.  He's an ambassador for his breed and I'm still hoping and praying he'll find his forever home soon! Today's event was wonderful and had a good showing of several wonderful breeds and enthusiasts.

One of the things I love about people involved in dog rescues is the fact that we first love dogs; and the breed is secondary. If we can help out another breed, it's worth it, because it's a dog that deserves a good home.  Someone asked me today if the German Shepherd is my "breed of choice" and although they have always been a favorite of mine, I can't say it's the ultimate:  I love Greyhounds (remember my Fire?), and I grew up with a small Bichon-mix. I think I could fall in love with any breed. But outside of that, yes, Shepherds appeal to me for some reason. We butt heads like arch-rivals and match each other like best friends.  It's a recipe for understanding!

Bear's Debut

This morning I'm taking "Bear" and my own dog to an event to obtain some exposure both for the organization I'm with and of course, for him and German Shepherds.

He's as ready as he'll ever be, I guess, so I'm hoping it goes well!

We did have a little setback a couple weeks ago, all my fault:  I traumatized him completely by accident.

There was a "giggle ball" on the floor which I'd seen but had forgotten about, and as I walked towards the livingroom, my errant foot kicked the ball, which went flying into the hardest portion of the couch, made it's typical squeaky noise, right next to Bear who was standing there and not expecting a flying object.  He startled and fled upstairs in terror.

Feeling horrible, I went up after him with treats, hoping to entice him back down to what had suddenly become a chamber of horrors in his mind.

He at first refused, but finally came to me, got half of a treat, then laid down on his dog bed. Then he came to get the other half, took it away, and ate it...all while my other dog was happily crunching away at her own biscuit!

While he DID finally come downstairs that evening, he just wasn't himself.  In fact, that afternoon he'd fled out through my open garage door when I was putting something in the garbage and I had to run out and slowly  coax him back. I seriously thought he was going to run away from me!

At dinner time, the second he saw me with his food dish, he fled upstairs and wouldn't come down.

I kept an eye on him and although this had seemed to start with a behavioral problem (ie I scared him to death), in reality I was realizing he just seemed....sick.  He was behaving like a sick child, isolating in my room, coming down to "go outside" but otherwise wanting to be where he could see me but not where he could be petted.  He didn't want attention unless it was on his terms, which were very short.  It was the, "I don't feel good leave me alone but don't go away!" attitude common to sick children!

The next morning I called the coordinator to talk about taking him to the vet. Thankfully we were able to get in that afternoon, and found that, in fact, Bear wasn't so much traumatized but very ill:  he had an infection from his surgery. The incision had healed just fine, but still had somehow gotten infected. A shot of antibiotics and a 10 day supply to take home has fixed things right up and Bear has bounced back to his normal, everyday goofy happy self.

I'm so relieved!

Bear is as happy-go-lucky as they come, loves to spend time on walks pouncing on my dog and trying to entice her to play.  Unfortunately, my dog tends to be "all business" so the entire show seems like some kind of doggie romance comedy.  If I were using these dogs in a movie, my dog would be voiced over by Susan Sarandon or Glenn Close, and Bear would be Adam Sandler.  (Does that paint the picture for you?)

I expect that Bear will be a bit shy, but perhaps with a bit of encouragement and all the nice people who will want to pet him, he'll find someone who will also want to adopt him.  Such a sweet dog needs to go to his "forever home" so truly I'm hoping his "match" will come along!

So wish us luck this morning...and I'll be sure to provide an update later today.  :-)

"Bear" Says "HI!"

I thought maybe it's time for a little update on my foster dog, "Bear".

In the previous post about him I'd mentioned that a couple had been interested in him, however their dog of 19 years had to be put down and in their sorrow they didn't feel they could consider another dog just yet.  Please pray for them. You who have pets know how hard a loss that is, and many of you will recall what I went through with my Greyhound, Fire, as he was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma (bone cancer) and was put to sleep only a couple weeks later.

So, it seems Bear is still looking for his "forever home."  

He is doing VERY well, I'm happy to report!  He and my own dog are getting along very well and have fallen into a comfortable friendship and routine.  Bear's real personality has now had the freedom to come out and he is all at once very sweet and docile, mischevious, playful, klutzy, and continues to have a desire to please!

Every day he makes me laugh on our walks as he tends, without warning, to decide to take flight.  Seriously!  He will suddenly BOUND upward, all four paws airborne, galumphing down the sidewalk in an act of pure joy.  You could almost compare it to the joyful bucking of a young colt, but with an upraised tail and doggie grin!

Although I haven't been working with him on obedience in any traditional manner, he IS learning, slowly, by the example of my other dog.  As I make her "sit" or "down" for every treat, or some other thing, I have tried a little to enforce that same move with him.  Since I know dogs learn well through the behavior of other canines, I've been mostly telling my own dog to "sit" and if Bear does it spontaneously, even when treats AREN'T being offered, I give him a great deal of praise in repeating, "Good sit!"

It seems that he is now willing to "sit" on command, if not yet consistently.  At times in his shyness, he can't figure out what I am asking of him even if he did it only 30 seconds before, and I won't push him on it if I see distress;  I do not want him to associate obedience training with something scary.  It is quite easy to reward his other good behaviors, such as "come", which he is always ready to do if only for a scratch under his chin!

Bear has also gained weight, is filling out nicely and although he has further to go, it is clear that real nutrition is doing WONDERS for him.  He is happy, he is comfortable, he has energy, his coat is shiny and SOFT and HEALTHY!

The Theology of the Dog

Ah, you didn't think you'd get off so easily, without me waxing theological, did you?  But if you love animals, you may be interested in this particular theology, which comes to us from Christian Anthropology:  Who we are in relation to God, and who dogs and other animals are in relation to God and us!

If you recall, in the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve had a particular friendship with animals. The animals spoke, Adam had the honor of naming them, and we see in that state of perfection of the world that even animals were given particular gifts that do not belong to them in this fallen world.

In one of my classes this fact was brought to the forefront, and our professor advanced the idea that, in fact, domesticated animals have far greater participation in God's own perfection for they are the ones that are closest to the perfection of animals in the Garden.

It makes sense, though, doesn't it?  In the Garden, humans and animals were friends.

When we look at our domesticated animals, don't we see something particular in those relationships?  We don't fear them, they don't "fear" us, we work together...but in the proper accordance of God's directive. Although we may joke that our cat or dog or parrot runs the house, reality proves otherwise, and in any area where an animal dominates, we recognize obvious disorder.

Seriously:  who of you won't chase your dog or cat off the bed when you want to sleep, regardless of the evil look they give you?  Are you really going to sleep on the floor instead of forcing your Great Dane to do so instead? REALLY?

But we see the gift of our pets. I've been saved from furnace issues, one very deadly, compliments of a dog.  I've taken my greyhound (I miss him) to a nursing home and watched the residents there pet him in great joy while talking about their lives.  We use dogs to sniff out human life (and death, unfortunately) in serious disasters, we use them to find drugs and other illegal materials, and we use them to defend our safety in a myriad of ways. They serve us, we love them, we care for them and together, we have a particular type of friendship that actually is a participation in God's own love.  

I, for one, don't keep a loaded gun near me any longer because of the simple fact that I have a dog. I trust my dog's teeth better than my half-asleep shooting, anyway, in the event of a nocturnal intruder.

And, of course, as my professor observed, German Shepherds are nearly human so...could we expect LESS from them?

I know that they take time to "thank" me every morning and evening after I feed them. Before they begin to play or rest or drink water, they come to me to show their affection after they've eaten. I'm not sure most humans have the audacity to such politeness. But I digress.

In any case, Bear is STILL up for adoption, I can't afford him and considering I may at one point actually be entering religious life, I'd REALLY like this dear creature to go to a home that is deserving of his loving attention and protection.

Are YOU that person or family?

As I always do, I must offer:  if you are interested in adopting "Bear" please email me so I can direct you to the proper channels and his official adoption page.

For now, though, I am content to have him as a happy member of my household, and I will enjoy him for as long as he is here.

Groggy Dog

This morning I drove Bear down to the Humane Society  for his surgery. I was directed to put him on the scale and the poor thing, confronted by the other caged, barking dogs and the scale business was just shaking and shuddering in terror!

But he went nicely into the kennel that was brought for him and looked after me plaintively as I walked away to go to work.

I picked him up right on time as directed, and the Tech told me he had done very well, especially for an older dog.  He was cooperative and so sweet he apparently won their hearts!

Of course, it was quite obvious he was very doped up. Although he sat up when he saw me come in to get him, he had an intense, unblinking stare that revealed his complete and utter confusion in that moment. They told me that the fact he was even awake at that point is amazing for a dog of his age and so I slowly walked him to the car, hoping he'd be able to figure out how to get in!

Now, a few hours later he's still groggy and confused, alternately sitting and staring into space, then wandering to someplace, like, say, the water bowl, where he decides it's too much work to go back to his dogbed so he plops down right there for another snooze.

Ah, yes, the endless entertainment of a groggy dog....

*SHHH!  He's sleeping again...*   :-)


UPDATE AND PRAYER REQUEST:

I saw a little swipe of blood on Bear's leg, touched it, noted it was fresh, checked the incision site which seemed at that time to be "oozing" a little.  Nothing huge.  Noted a page of matted hair on the inside of Bear's leg (he is a long-haired dog!) which I suspect had become "attached" to the incision site in through movement, pulled away and caused a little bleeding.  Ow.

I did some internet research to see if I should worry, which of course, the sites make me do! I suspect, though, that when they talk about "oozing"  (or similar words) I think they are talking about more substantial signs of real bleeding and infection.

Bear is walking a little weird, but in his skinniness, he seems to me to walk a little weird anyway, so now I don't know if I'm just being paranoid or WHAT!   He's still groggy from the meds, started licking once or twice but I stopped that behavior and he quit without a problem.

Having seen a dog with bone cancer, I know the signs of real pain and distress in a dog, and none of those signs are present in Bear...

So for now, I'm just keeping an eye on things, have decided NOT to call the animal rescue unless it really becomes necessary. I think what I'm seeing is within a range of "Normal" and I hope it stays that way!

But, please pray anyway because I'm paranoid and will assume the worst even when it's nothing.

:-(  

Right now he's just hanging out napping on the floor and actually looks pretty comfortable.

Losing His....Uh... *ahem*

My blog must seem so schizophrenic these days;  one day writing of discernment or other spiritual topic, the next, about the realities of being a "foster mom" for the first time. Just goes to show that life isn't one-dimensional.

It's actually possible to discern God's will while living life in all it entails, so really, I make no apologies for blogging about this part of my life.  (I've lost a few readers since Bear's arrival, and find it hard to believe my discernment posts would cause such a huff.)

"Bear" is doing very well, but there's a secret we aren't going to share with him:  tomorrow he's making a very special trip to a Human Society's mobile unit for a very special surgery.

Yup. That's the one. The one that all the men in my audience would prefer I never name.

For some reason, even though it's a DOG undergoing this surgery, grown men cringe and grab at their privates when this particular surgery is mentioned, as though it is being proposed that it be applied to them.

Sotto Voce:  
Incidentally I find this hilarious as most men these days don't NEARLY cringe so much at the sound of "vasectomy" or even pretend to cringe at the sound of "tubal ligation" which is infinitely more dangerous for women than what they undergo.  It should be noted that those surgeries in human beings are morally incompatible with the spiritual life and romantically incompatible with the definition of true, sacrificial, sacramental charity. So maybe I don't find it so hilarious after all. 

Anyway...

Although I haven't been instructed to do so, I will be withholding food and water tomorrow morning from "Bear", driving him to his temporary destination, and picking him up later, with the challenge of "keeping him quiet."

Have you ever tried to keep a dog "QUIET" after surgery?

I recall picking up a female dog we once adopted from Animal Control. The City paid for her surgery, and I remember going into the vet's office as the harassed vet tech passed the leash to me. The dog was not just excited to see me and pawing at ME, but desperately scrambling to deeply know all the dogs in the waiting room as well.

"Keep her quiet for a few days." said the harried Tech, without much confidence.

Say WHAT?  She's doped up NOW and not even TRYING to be docile and quiet...what happens when the drugs wear off???

But for the only time in her life she laid down in the back seat once removed from the stimulus of the vet's waiting room and when we got home, she found a spot in the bedroom on her dog bed where she just SAT...head down, ears floppy....not sure whether to sleep or just hang out in her dopey highness.

Eventually sleep won out. Not until after much confusion, though.

I don't know how Bear will be tomorrow when I bring him home, but I know it'll be a challenge to keep him quiet.

He may be 9 years old, but he loves to play, he has taken to bounding around in happiness and joy and every so often he gets the "zooms".

This morning, this "malady" hit him and after tiring of figure-eights in my narrow livingroom, he settled for spinning on a dime a la Quarter Horse Extraordinaire.  All the while, my dog,  who was first intimidated by his antics and found the need to flee to the couch for refuge, became quite intent on his activities.  When Bear began to spin she took special notice and after a period of solemn study, she suddenly BOUNDED from the couch and POUNCED on him mid-spin, apparently deciding it was an opportune time to gain the upper paw.

If I had this on camera, it would go viral and win awards.

But, alas, you'll have to take my word for it.

This dog is ready for a real home, methinks.

Incidentally, I learned today that a nice couple is interested in him so a meeting will be set up with them not next weekend, but the one after (as I am not available this coming weekend due to class.)

Part of my job as a foster is to go with him to meet his potential adoptive family, the reason being that I can answer questions on his personality, training, how best to handle certain things, etc.

For example, tonight I learned that the signal for "sit" as commonly accepted in dog training circles is a signal to "Bear" to flee.  An adoptive home, if using traditional obedience training, will need to either use a different signal or take the time to teach him that the hand signal for "sit" is a good thing, not a cause for fear.  He can certainly learn, but that hand association will take more time with him as he has several things to overcome.

There you have it. Bear will continue to be Bear, in all his challenges, and until he is adopted, he'll continue to be a part of my blog.

Oh... And...

To all you men out there....for Goodness' sake, STAND UP STRAIGHT!  Yes, I can see you and you look RIDICULOUS!

Empathy is fine and good, but when you cringe like that you look like a bunch of sissies!  After all, the guys out West throw those oysters on the barbie as soon as they're removed from the calf every summer!  And in fact, GUYS are the ones wielding the knives that cut the "manhood"!

It's not like anyone is asking you to partake in a new delicacy compliments of the Humane Society!

Just sayin', my friends...just sayin'.

Transformation

When "Bear" came to me two weeks ago, as I chronicled, he was stinky, he was filthy, and, well...just plain YUCK!   I did what I could to clean him, knowing I could not just throw him in the tub.  I am not an army!  And really, I didn't think he could tolerate something so scary. So I got creative in trying to clean surface dirt while introducing him to the idea of grooming...which overall he found to be very pleasant, apparently.

No more does "Bear" offend hail with the scent of "Eau de Poopy Kennel, vintage 2001"!  

Today, thanks to a generous German Shepherd fan who reads my blog, Bear is nice and clean and sweet-smelling!  Thank you!

I called Petco yesterday to see what they could do as I didn't have the rabies certificate, and when I couldn't reach anyone at the rescue organization this morning, I called the vet clinic on his tag.  The tech from the Rock Rapids, IA clinic actually REMEMBERED the dog as he was there recently, commented about how sweet he was, and confessed she hadn't yet filed his paperwork!  She readily faxed it in on our behalf!

So I dropped Bear off  this afternoon (see photo from the upper left) and he nervously but cooperatively went through the gate to go have his much-needed bath. They knew he was a rescue-foster dog, that he was timid but I assured them he was also very sweet...just easily startled. In the photo of him,  note the laid-back ears, the hunched back, and the unsure expression on his face. (Oh, yes, German Shepherds are VERY expressive!) I do love how his left ear is cocked upward as if waiting for a word of some sort, maybe an explanation as to what was going on.

 I picked him up a couple hours later and he came out looking, at least to my eyes, like a different dog!  As the leash was handed over he came out to me, circled around, wagging his tail and looking up at me shyly as he "hugged" my leg with his shoulder.

He smells good, his coat is shinier, fluffier (with the weight of all that filth having been scrubbed away) and he sports a blue bandanna around his handsome German Shepherd-patented ruff!

General Update

Bear has been doing very well. Although he's still easily startled (and often at times that make me scratch my head in confusion as to what I did to scare him), his curiosity and natural canine instinct to be social quickly overcomes his trepidation.  I have discovered that when he is scared and running away, the best thing to do is to continue what I'm doing especially if it is a necessary daily task;  for example, doing laundry or getting ready for bed at night.   I can't change these tasks..he has to get used to them and learn they are normal. If I don't react, he'll learn eventually that there is nothing to fear.

As it is, this technique is helping him settle into the routine of daily life in a house.

There are other times, however where I realize I've frightened him with a sound or motion, and so I will crouch down and invite him to come to me.  If I am closer to the ground, he seems a lot more willing to approach and extend his inquisitive nose in my direction so I can scratch under his neck.  At these times I will NOT reach over his head, for as a dog, he finds this to be intimidating and something maybe to be challenged.

Slowly he is learning to trust me, and I can see that things which were frightening to him in his first few days are nothing of notice anymore. Over time, he'll become as blase' and bored as my dog.

Play Time!

One of the joys of fostering (and as I've experienced in the past, adopting a pet from Animal Control or a shelter) is really watching a dog become what he is and what he was intended to be.  In only two weeks, Bear really is a completely different dog.  He has gained weight so that his ribs don't stick out QUITE so much, his coat is shinier (noticeable even BEFORE his bath), his coat is softer (brushing and regular attention), and he has discovered the joy of drinking liberally from a water bowl filled with fresh water!

Ah! The simplest things in life are the most important!

All of this has brought him out of his shell to help me observe his personality.  He is like a perpetual puppy, discovering the world for the first time. Everything is new and exciting!

He has taken to randomly BOUNDING about in the morning when we go outside right away, and later, on our morning walk.  Every so often he finds it necessary, much like a teenaged boy, to body-slam his companion, which is usually my other dog.  Of course, she is so focused on scent and the business at hand (a professional, dignified, grown-up German Shepherd that she is...) that she barely notices his juvenile exuberance.

It's fun to observe this "old dog" playing like a puppy, and it's fun to watch my own dog treating him as such, with great patience, as though to say, "OK big boy, get it out of your system and then leave me alone...."

Housetraining

We have had a little setback in housetraining, unfortunately.  Of course, these regressions are expected. He's still learning, after all!

This morning we came downstairs and as usual, I put my coat and boots on to take the dogs out. Even though he hadn't HAD any "accidents" since his first night (where he introduced himself in very strong terms to my kitchen) I KNEW we weren't done. After all, this dog isn't yet neutered, and even neutered males can't seem to contain their desire to make their presence known through their easy contributions of scent and ownership.

Well, as I was putting the leash on my other dog (as it was the first in hand) and saying "Outside!"  I heard a suspicious sound, and looked back in time to realize Bear was claiming a box intended for Half-Price books...and some of the carpet...and the kitchen floor.

NO!  NO, BEAR, OUTSIDE! POTTY OUTSIDE! LET'S GO!

At the sound of my voice he did stop and came to me so I could put the leash on. We went outside where he managed to finish his business properly so I could praise him...properly.

*sigh* 

Doggie breakfast was delayed due to canine cleanup in aisle 5.

So I will be more vigilant, snap a lead on him before I even put my coat on in the morning and won't take my eyes off him until we come back in for breakfast.

How is my own dog fairing in all this chaos?

Well, she IS a lot happier as an only dog. I see that very clearly. I saw it after Fire, my greyhound died, and I see it now. But she's rolling with it all, she's holding her place as well as she can, and every so often she shoots me looks of disappointment....like this afternoon when I brought Bear back into the house. Clearly she'd hoped he was gone.  No such luck. So she is also withholding her favorite sign of affection from me; ubiquitous kisses.  I get no more kisses, apparently.  She's not really "speaking to me" these days, unless she is seeking to show dominance in status, and then she's my best friend.  (See? Dogs really AREN'T so different than cats..I'm just waiting for her to pee in my shoes or on my pillow!)

But we are having some "quality time" and she lets her opinion of Bear be known when she is seeking her special moments of attention.  Bear is a dog who wants to nose in on everything so has to be kept at bay. As he respects my dog's teeth far more than mine (and showing mine has  a far different meaning anyway), I let my dog handle that process as I try to continue giving her the attention to which she is accustomed.

Overall, I, too am adjusting to a multiple-dog household.

This is obviously greatly aided now that Bear isn't the doggie-equivalent of Charles Schultz's "Pig Pen".  (How funny...I always LOVED Pig Pen because he was such a sweetie...if stinky!)