New Fosters

Oh my word, where have I been? So much has happened, so little time to write it all down!. Let's just dive right in. We fostered this litter of kitties over Memorial Day weekend while their regular foster person was out of town.

They were 5 weeks old then, weaned from bottle feeding (thank goodness), and were quite fun to foster. All of them were extremely social and loved being held. Cleaning the litter box continually was probably the only tough thing about it. I'm sure they will be adopted the second they become available. How can anyone resist those faces?

Currently, we are fostering a lovely little dog named Mandy. She is a lab-mystery mix, and she was found in a barn with her 8 puppies. Our shelter's wonderful administrative director fostered them all at her house until all 8 puppies were adopted. Now, it's Mandy's turn!

Cabana is fine with Mandy, not necessarily thrilled, but probably much happier with another dog in the house, rather than the 4 kittens (Cabana was actually a little scared of the kitties!).

Mandy loves chasing balls, but other than that, Mandy is a newbie. Cabana has helped teach her about crate training, house training, walking nicely on leash, and sitting when asked.

Even though Mandy has been spayed, she must still have lots of yummy estrogen smells coming out of her because all the male dogs at the park get googly around her. She doesn't care about them, though. She just wants me to throw her ball.

Mandy is probably only about 1 year old, so she's just a puppy herself. Playing fetch is helping Mandy get back to her girlish figure. Even though she's had a hard life so far, it amazes me what a nice dog Mandy is. Like Cabana, she's just inherently polite. She rarely barks, doesn't get up on the furniture without being invited, doesn't counter surf, isn't destructive, and just wants to be in the same room with me. No one taught her those things. That's just who she is. And she deserves an awesome family and home.

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A Day with Sioux

Earlier this week, we had the pleasure of taking care of a sweet old rescue dog named Sioux. She is a 9.5 year old German shepherd and had been sent to a sanctuary near Los Angeles when her owner passed away. The sanctuary recently lost their land, and 70 dogs were in desperate need of rescue. One of our board members at the shelter fell in love with Sioux's photo on Facebook and had her transported here. Our house served as a pitstop until Sioux's foster family was ready for her.

Sioux has a quiet dignity and gentle disposition. Her hips are not in good condition, so she can't sit at all, can't climb stairs, and has difficulty getting in and out of the car. But she loves to walk and loves to be nearby.

The lick granulomas on all four legs show that she has been stressed. I was given a spray ointment for them, so hopefully, they will clear up as soon as she gets settled somewhere. She was very cooperative when I brushed her, tried to clean her ears (they were so dirty, I just couldn't get them clean), and trimmed her nails.

Cabana took to Sioux right away, as I knew she would. Cabana was extremely respectful, but I saw her watching me curiously as I groomed Sioux. I could see the wheels turning in her head, like, "Hmmmm, that's what Mom usually does to me." Having another dog in the house always makes Cabana more affectionate toward us, which is actually a nice improvement over her usual aloofness.

I had been told that Sioux had food aggression issues and should be fed separately from other dogs. But after giving a few treats to both Sioux and Cabana, I couldn't see a single indication of trouble. So I put their food bowls down a little ways from each other, just to be sure, but there weren't any issues. In fact, Sioux left the last bite of kibble in her bowl, then went to check out Cabana's (empty) bowl. During that time, Cabana came over and ate Sioux's remaining kibble, as well as the kibble Sioux had dribbled on the floor. I know Cabana would NEVER have done that if she had any concerns about Sioux's response. This might be too anthropomorphic, but I almost felt like Sioux purposefully left the last bite for Cabana, like she was giving a gift to her host. She did this at dinner and again at breakfast the next day.

In the photo, you can see a black spot on Sioux's side. I thought it was dirt and tried to rub it away, but it turns out to be a permanent spot. A beauty mark, a bigger version of the dark pigment under Cabana's left eye!

I took Sioux to the park in the morning, and she LOVED it. She seemed to truly enjoy socializing with the other dogs, even if she wasn't able to romp much. Every human became her new best friend.

I hope Sioux's age and bad hips won't keep someone from adopting her. Senior dogs definitely have a lot going for them! Sioux is so easy and would be a wonderful pet for an older person or a family with young children. I'll post an update when she gets a home, which I predict will be soon!

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Norman No More

I am heartbroken to report that Norman was put down this past weekend. The shelter training director sent out a 2-page letter to staff members and to me, explaining why she felt that Norman needed to be put down. Norman was unpredictable, had bitten three people at the shelter (staff and volunteers), and was not making consistent progress over the 3 months that he was there. She felt there were very few, if any, home situations that could handle Norman. He would always be a guarder, and he could resort to biting at any point in time.

I did not agree with everything in the letter, and I definitely did not want Norman to be put down. But with my own eyes, I had seen Norman try to bite a volunteer on the hand--it was the most random, weird reaction I'd ever seen in a dog. He was all sweet and fine, accepted a treat from the volunteer happily, then a few moments later, snapped at her hand with his teeth. He didn't break skin in this case or with the other bites, but they were all equally random and unpredictable.

The shelter training director saw and worked with Norman every day over the past three months, while I saw him for less than an hour, twice a week, if that. So even though I wanted to, I felt I couldn't argue with her assessment of him. She loved Norman and was very invested in him, and this decision had to be 10 times more difficult for her than it was for me. I know that I could have offered to foster Norman long-term or adopt him, and she would have allowed me to do that. Dogs behave so differently in a home than in a shelter environment. Those three bites might never have been repeated once he got settled. I felt he truly trusted me, and I completely trusted his behavior toward me personally.

But I couldn't have trusted his behavior toward other people. There are small children (who are both very scared of dogs) living on either side of my house, and if Norman had ever gotten loose and hurt one of them, I would not be able to forgive myself. If Cabana ever got loose, I know she'd never hurt anybody in a million years. But with Norman, I'd be worried until the day he died.

Which is how the training director must have felt, and which is why I supported her decision. It's hard, though, full of what if's and doubts. I got to see Norman as they were about to put him down, and he was sooo sweet. All wags and cuddles and full-out joy, to have all his favorite people around him at the same time, while we humans were all bawling our eyes out.

I know there's a lesson in here for me. I'm not quite sure what it is yet, other than that life isn't fair. I don't know what Norman's life was like before he came to the shelter, but I'm quite certain it wasn't good. He seemed starved for companionship, both human and canine, but at the same time, was clueless about how to interact with either. He was fearful and distrustful, but maybe any dog would have been, given the same circumstances. Norman's name used to be Lucky, but shortly after arriving at the shelter, the training director changed it to Norman, jokingly saying that he was anything but lucky. Little did any of us know how true that would be.

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The New Norman

When I first met Norman, a chow-golden retriever mix, at the shelter, he gave me the meanest death stare ever, like he would chew my head off if the fence wasn't between us. I took an instant dislike to him. Call me Mrs. Compassionate.

But the next time I saw him, I fed him a few morsels through the fence, and we came to an understanding. He understood I wasn't going to hurt him, and I understood he had been through a lot, which I could tell by the way he'd flinch every time I put my hand out to pet him. Being head shy, some of the shelter workers wouldn't even remove his lead when they transferred him from the night kennels to the training center yard. He'd been known to nip at them when they reached for his neck area.

In the little training center yard, Norman was away from the noise of the kennels and could see people come and go. There was lots of practice opportunity for him to get used to people and dogs coming up to the fence without him going ballistic. Slowly, thanks to the diligence of the shelter's training director, Norman started coming around.

After two months of building trust and working on obedience, we felt Norman was ready for dog interaction. I brought Cabana to the shelter last week, and with Norman in a muzzle, we introduced the dogs. Cabana was a bit weirded out be the muzzle, I think, but she play bowed and tried to interact with him. We kept the session short and ended on a very successful and promising note. Two days later, I brought Cabana back to the shelter. Norman knew her now, and because he was so happy and relaxed, I felt like I could handle both dogs on a walk.

It was all going very smoothly, until we passed a building that was undergoing construction. There was the whirring of electric saws, roofers were hammering, and Norman was beside himself with fear. I had to use all my might to pull him back from running into the street as he tried to get as far away from the distressing sounds as possible. I gathered the dogs, and we sat for a while on the bench in front of the building. I wanted Norman to see that the sounds weren't anything to be afraid of. After just a few minutes, perhaps due to Cabana's example, Norman calmed down. The reward of seeing this kind of progress is addictive.

Yesterday, I invited Norm over to our house for a few hours, so I could see how he did in a home environment. He was surprisingly fantastic! He didn't bark, didn't jump on furniture, was fastidious in his potty skills, and he adored Cabana. They would have played non-stop if I had let them. Cabana barked at him a lot, which I felt was her way of correcting him--he probably NEEDED a lot of correction. But I had him on leash, and she could have gotten away from him at any moment but chose not to.

Norman came into the shelter undersocialized, untrained, and pretty much unadoptable. After a few months at the shelter, through the dedication of staff and volunteers, he's ready for a home. It's a rehabilitation success story that happens one dog at a time, and it's why I've become a shelter dog addict.

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Update on Keegan

Well, my efforts to help the lab/husky mix, Keegan, were unsuccessful. His owner returned Keegan to the shelter last week. Now, he is back on their online adoption list.

The owner called me before she returned him, saying that he was just too much dog for her. She was very upset and sad about her decision, but she felt it was the right thing to do. In many ways, I agreed with her. She was in so over her head--no experience with training a large young dog and gone 8-9 hours a day for work at a high-stress job. She was a very kind, intelligent woman, but extremely tentative, making it easy for Keegan to walk all over her.

I debated whether to take Keegan myself and foster him. He's such a great dog, and with a few weeks of training and regularity at my house, I knew I could easily find a great home for him. Ugh, I wanted to (and still want to) do that for him so badly! BUT I am so overwhelmed with work, and my kids are home for the summer. I didn't want to bring Keegan to my house, only to feel completely stressed out. And because Keegan would need to be crated whenever we went somewhere, I knew I would feel a constant pressure to get back home. Extended day trips would be cut short every time--and I didn't think that was fair to my kids.

Plus, can you tell I have boundary issues? I wasn't the one who adopted Keegan, so why was I making myself feel so responsible for him? I felt I needed to let him go--but knowing he's at the shelter still nags at me....

The woman who had adopted Keegan told me that the shelter spent almost no time checking out her qualifications. She got to the shelter at 2:30 and left with Keegan by 4:00 that same day. They asked her if she'd had a dog before, which she had, so they felt she was qualified to take him. Knowing that Keegan had already been returned to the shelter TWICE before (this will be his third time there within a year), you'd think the shelter would have been more careful about who they adopted him to, right?? So sad.

Keegan's adoption listing is also sad, inaccurate and incomplete. I don't consider 80+ pounds to be a medium sized dog. Also, the listing says they don't know whether he's housetrained, but one quick question to his previous owner would answer that. He is definitely housetrained, and it would mean a lot to potential adopters to see a check mark there. And how difficult would it have been for them to write a short bio? I'm sure the shelter staff are busy and overworked--but it's the animals that pay the price.

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Two Days with Luli

Last weekend, we took care of Luli, a Cavalier King Charles spaniel mix, who is in the process of being re-homed due to her terrorizing the cat in their household. Her regular foster person was away, so we filled in for a couple days.

We hadn't fostered a little dog before, so I was curious to see if I would enjoy an under 10-pound dog. I could see the advantages of having such a compact dog--Luli was very easy to walk and manage. But she had some of the usual little dog traits, like yappiness and MAJOR attention seeking behavior. It's always hard to know how much of that is nature vs. nurture, but it seemed like she had been given much too much power in the past. This little dog did her best to try to take over.

I had been told ahead of time that Luli is prone to guarding behavior. I could see that in her right away, because every time Cabana was near me, Luli would bark and nip at her. I tried to manage that by not allowing Luli to be in situations where she could guard me. No sitting by me on the couch, for instance. Long-suffering Cabana took it all very well, but I think we were all pretty relieved when Luli went back to her regular foster home.

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