Since I'm on the subject of previous foster dogs, here are a couple recent photos of Francie. After being at the shelter for over six months, Francie is now sitting on top of the world. Thanks to her new owner for rescuing her and giving her a chance at a great life. It's what every dog deserves.
I took this completely un-Photoshopped photo a few days ago, using a slow shutter speed on my camera. I love the way it makes Francie look like a ghost or fading memory as she walks through our house. While I'm still rejoicing about Francie getting adopted, I absolutely cannot believe how much I miss her. She was only at our house for a week, but she was a part of my daily life for the past three months.
Want to hear an interesting story? The first night of our foster, I put Francie's red "adopt me" jacket on her and took her for a walk at a park near our house. I was desperately trying to get her as much exposure as possible. That day, I had contacted numerous rescue groups, pit bull organizations, and made the Craigs List post--everything I could think of to get Francie out in front of people and hopefully, that one Right Person. As I walked through the park, I saw three grade school-aged kids watching us. When we got close to them, the oldest, a girl of about 13, pointed to Francie and said, "That used to be our dog." I had to ask her to repeat herself three times because I couldn't get what she was saying through my thick head! She said that Francie, who's name used to be Carly, was owned by their 23-year old brother. Carly ran away when she was 8-months old and was picked up as a stray. They eventually went to the shelter and saw that she had been renamed Francie (they must have waited for a long time for her to have been given a name by then), but their parents didn't want to pay the $400 to reclaim her (it actually only costs $40, but the girl had apparently been told that it was $400).
She ended by saying, "Well, at least she has a good home with you now." I pointed to Francie's "adopt me" jacket and said, no, she does not have a home, that she has been at the shelter for over 7 months, and that she was almost euthanized. I said it as gently as I could, but I didn't want to sugarcoat the situation either. I felt they needed to know that the choices their family made had huge ramifications, namely, making their dog's life a living hell. Hopefully, if they ever get another pet, they will not repeat their mistake.
But I just got off the phone with Francie's new owner, who reports that Francie has slept on his bed for the past two nights. He told me initially that she would be sleeping on her own dog bed on the floor next to his bed--I've never been so glad that someone's resolve caved! It's a good sign that Francie will be living the spoiled life she deserves.
Francie's owner plans to make Francie her own Facebook page so we can all follow along in her adventures. He says I'll be jealous when I see the amazing life she's living. I'll be sure to share the link so we can all jealous together!
Whenever I'd envision the perfect owner for our foster dog, Francie, I thought of a young single man, tough, outdoorsy, athletic, not bothered by dirt, not into nice furniture, kindhearted but firm, experienced with dogs.
Today, Francie drove away in the truck of that perfect owner.
She's being taken to an 80-acre ranch surrounded by redwoods in the Santa Cruz mountains. Her owner is the caretaker of the ranch and will take her everywhere he goes. They will camp in Yosemite, swim in the mountain lakes, and hike the rugged trails.
Francie's new owner responded to an ad I had posted on Craig's List and drove over two hours to come meet her. He's owned bully breeds before and plans to buy her the best organic dog food money can buy. He's a southern boy and called me "ma'am", which I will not hold against him.
It's a happy ending. Go well, Francie, we will miss you terribly (well, maybe Cabana won't, but I will), but we couldn't ask for better for you.
Well, I didn't really believe those of you who commented that things would get better with Cabana and Francie. But you were right! Cabana's comfort has improved, and I think Francie is finally understanding that harassing gets her nowhere, except inside her crate. This afternoon, Cabana got up on her ottoman, one of her favorite spots, while Francie was laying only inches away on the couch. That was the first time Cabana elected to be that close to Francie. (Sorry, this photo is pretty darn blurry.)
Five days ago, Francie only ate about half the food in her dish at mealtimes, and her poops were always runny and tinged with blood. Now, she is almost as fastidious about cleaning her plate as Cabana is, and her poops are firm and healthy. WHY is that so gratifying?! On the subject of food, Cabana adores baby carrots and comes to get one whenever I open the fridge. The first time I gave Francie a carrot, she almost audibly said, "Blecch" and spit it on the ground. She watched as Cabana ate hers enthusiastically and picked the discarded carrot back up. She chomped it into three pieces but left the pieces uneaten. Tonight, though, she happily gobbled down two of them. What a good girl to eat her veggies. 
This morning, Lake County Animal Services kindly allowed me to participate in their adoption event at a local Pet Food Express. Francie charmed everyone who stopped to meet her, snuggling up and leaning in on their legs for some love. This girl knows how to work it! She was great with every person and very good about meeting the other adoptable dogs there. I was extremely encouraged and proud of her. No one seemed seriously interested, though--but I'm horning in on another adoption event in San Francisco tomorrow.
There were two litters of puppies at today's adoption event. These are lab/plott hound mixed pups. So sweet! Aren't their eyes incredible?
Two days into fostering Francie, and we are settling in okay. It's not easy, but it's not terrible. This morning, I fed the dogs near each other, which was a baby step in the right direction. Neither of them are food guarders. Francie was only eating about half her food when we first brought her home (she never ate much at the shelter either), but I'm happy to see that her appetite has improved greatly. She still leaves a bit of food in her dish, which I've been letting Cabana finish eating--I want her to feel there are at least a few perks to having Francie in the house.
I took these photos a few minutes ago, and in reviewing them, Cabana's discomfort is evident in each one. Cabana tolerates Francie, but she doesn't enjoy her one bit.
Francie is just so bossy. If Cabana is sitting near me, Francie comes over and makes Cabana move, then she lays all over me, trying to claim me. Whenever she does stuff like this, I put her on tie-down or in her crate. It seems to be working because Francie is getting slightly less bossy. Just slightly, though.
I feel bad when I restrain or confine Francie, but that's the only way that Cabana can relax. (FYI, I never leave the dogs alone together.) I was telling my shelter volunteer friend about how guilty I feel, and she reminded me that up until two days ago, Francie lived in a concrete cell with one hour of exercise and interaction if she was lucky. Now, she has a soft bed, a doggy door leading out to a yard, plenty of exercise, lots of cuddles, and a clean, quiet, stable environment. 
Another volunteer told me that the dog above got put down at the shelter today. He bit someone the day after Francie did. The story is that someone stuck their fingers through his kennel bars, and he bit them. I don't know how much damage he did. Francie's bite was accidental, but this dog's was on purpose, I guess you could say. I still don't think it warrants losing his life, but that's the way the shelter is doing things now. So I'm glad Francie is out of there; otherwise, she'd be in their freezer.
The day started as all good days should--with a trip to the fields for Cabana to run and play with her friends.
After dropping Cabana off at home, I headed over to Buster/Seamus' house! Buster was our previous foster dog, and his new owner asked me to stop by and give a little lesson to her 7-year old twin girls. They love Buster but don't always know how to play with him in ways he likes. I did some research online, mostly using the Liam J. Perk website that I heard about through Martha's blog, as well as the ASPCA site. I put together some photos that show dogs in different postures, to help the girls recognize some cues that Buster is probably giving them. I'm sure it was mostly stuff that their parents had already told them, but sometimes, it has more meaning when it's coming from someone else.
It was so great to see Buster, and he definitely still remembered me. He looked great, his fur was glossy, and he seemed very settled and happy. I told his owners again that I was more than willing to dog sit anytime they needed me.
After that, I drove over to the embroidery place and picked up these sample sew-outs. I think the lab design came out fabulously, and I'm really excited about the polos and hats for Fun Day.
Then, finally with the 10-day quarantine period over for Francie, I drove over to the shelter and brought her home to start her foster period at our house. So far, things are going okay. I wish I could say that Cabana and Francie adore each other, but that's just not the case. I have a hard time understanding Francie's body language, but I think she's being a combination of pushy and playful. Cabana just ignores her or stays very still while Francie makes sudden jerky movements. Mostly, I've been keeping Francie on tie-down or in her crate, while allowing Cabana total freedom. I want Francie to know that this is Cabana's house and that we will decide the rules on what Francie can do and not do. She'd easily take over the place if we gave her an inch. My husband described Francie well, saying that she's a mixture of very sweet with slightly crazy.
Phew, I'm exhausted! Is it time for bed yet?
THANK YOU to everyone who signed the petition yesterday! I recognized many, many of your names on the petition list, and I was encouraged with each one. We have 525 signatures as of this writing, and though I don't know if it will help pass the non-profit proposal, it definitely helped me feel supported and loved.
A special thanks to my blogging friend Min who posted on her blog about Francie and the petition. She has a beautiful blog about her dog and life as the wife of a military man. If you haven't yet, check it out. She's funny and creative and has a yellow lab, Bella, pictured above. I hope someday we'll get to meet in person.
I decided my blog was getting to be too much of a downer, so I want to share some comic relief. A dog park friend turned me on to this blog called Hyperbole and a Half, and it is HILARIOUS. The pictures are illustrated using MS Paint, and their simplicity and zaniness adds to the sarcastic but spot-on writing. I have spent HOURS reading through her posts and laughing at her drawings--the best ones are highlighted on the side bar. They will cheer you up on your darkest day.
As far as the animal shelter and Francie, I don't know anything yet. I went to the city council meeting last night, and it wasn't good. It's too complicated and boring to go into detail, but things are BLEAK. I am separating myself from the shelter this week because there's too much fighting and nastiness there right now.
Next Monday, I will go spring Francie and bring her to our home as a foster. I have already gotten in touch with a couple of local rescue groups who have extensive networking contacts. It boggles my mind how fast they spread information! A rescuer contacted me this morning, saying this: "I love this girl's face (Francie's)--she looks like my Chance--who is a love of my life. There is nothing I would not do for him. You let me know when she is all settled in with you. I am connected with SF rescue groups. I am sure I can ask them for her to attend local adoption events. Thank you for saving her life!"
I'm hopeful.
For the past two months, I have been going to the animal shelter six days a week to work with Francie. Sometimes, we go for a hike, other times we play Chuck-It at the park. When it's too hot to walk or play fetch, we mostly snuggle in the shade of a tree. I started doing this because Francie was floundering. She had lost a lot of weight (she was already skinny to begin with), wasn't eating her meals, didn't wag her tail, rarely sniffed anything, and seemed to be constantly pacing. 
I knew what Francie needed was consistency and plenty of exercise, so that's what I tried to give her. Now, she is eating her meals and seems truly happy when we are out together. She is extremely affectionate and sweet. Look at that happy face in the pool!
The first three minutes with Francie have always been a challenge because she is beside herself with kennel stress, excitement that someone has come for her, and anxiety from all the other dogs in the adjoining kennels barking and going bonkers. She doesn't know what to do with herself, and so she bites the leash. After all this time, I know exactly what she's going to do, so I don't allow her to do it. I grab her collar before she can go after the leash in my hand, I clip the leash on, and we exit the kennels as quickly and safely as possible. We've got our routine down pat.
Today, as usual, I went to walk Francie, and as I started to go into the kennels to get her, one of our animal control officers stopped me. She said Francie had bitten her arm and had to be quarantined for 10 days because of rabies or whatever. The bite was purely accidental (as usual, she was trying to bite the leash), but still, due to rules and regulations, I am not allowed to be anywhere near Francie for the next 10 days.
So I went home and showered. But then, because there is a lot of ugly political stuff going down at the shelter this week, I got scared. There has been talk about having to euthanize half the animals at the shelter due to budget cuts. In a panic, I quickly got dressed and drove back to the shelter to make sure Francie was still there and still breathing.
Thankfully, I saw that she was alive, in the quarantine kennel behind the building. I found the shelter director, and I asked her to promise me that they would not put Francie down. She assured me that they would not euthanize her, but it broke my heart to see Francie back there, cooped up and not able to do much of anything. Francie could see me and hear my voice, and she started yelping and whining. The one hour that she looks forward to each day has been taken from her. She's being quarantined for a behavior that is caused by kennel stress. And yet, the consequence for that behavior is to confine her and cause even further kennel stress. How is that right?
My vacation dog book reading riot included The Lost Dogs: Michael Vick's Dogs and their Tale of Rescue and Redemption. While I can't say that I thoroughly enjoyed this book, mostly because I found the writing style a bit dry and clumsy, the subject matter was very interesting.
Despite the sad beginning of this story, it truly is a happy "tale of rescue and redemption." Most of the dogs turn out to be loving, healthy pets, with quite a few of them passing the Canine Good Citizen test and even becoming therapy dogs. Only a very small percentage are yet unable to overcome their aggression toward other dogs. The majority of the dogs didn't want to fight at all, which was a big problem for Vick and a large part of the reason why he treated them so badly (as punishment for not fighting).
The myth about pit bulls being dangerous is so prevalent today. It's a travesty that these sweet, loving animals continue to be regarded as uncontrollable monsters. Pit bulls want so much to please their humans, and it is this very trait that makes them popular for dog fights. They do it, going against all their own instincts, because a human is MAKING them do it.
Meanwhile, I have my own pit bull rescue story, playing out at our local animal shelter. Here is pit bull Francie, pictured with my husband and shelter dog Loki, in the shelter play yard. With the exception of while I was in New York, I have been going to the shelter daily to exercise Francie for at least an hour. Some days, we run together, sometimes we walk. I try to vary the route and expose her to as many situations as possible. We have been back to the park for Chuck-It a couple times when it's quiet and we can keep a distance from other people and dogs. We go for car rides (she no longer humps the dog bed in the back seat), walk on busy streets, stroll through quiet neighborhoods, and shop at pet stores.
While I'm out and about town with Francie, I've noticed that she gets a lot of attention. It's probably a combination of factors--that Francie is a striking pure white, the disconnect of seeing a "scary pit bull" being walked by a 5' tall Asian woman, and that she walks SO nicely on leash. Oh yes, Francie has come a long way in her leash manners. She heels beautifully, sits at the stop lights, and when she sees a nice patch of grass, she lays down and rolls over for a delicious tummy rub--she is one affectionate girl.
On busy traffic days, I've had as many as 5 people poke their heads out of their car windows to yell things like, "What a great dog!" I decided to capitalize on this attention by making Francie a little jacket that says "Adopt Me". People probably just think she's my dog, but I want them to know she could be THEIR dog! My ploy is working because yesterday, a guy pulled over, rolled down his window, and handed me his business card, saying, "Give me a call about that dog!"
Hopefully, someone will adopt Francie soon. She's been at the shelter since November of last year, the poor baby. (She scratched her face yesterday by shoving her head under the chicken wire fencing in the kennels.) It will take the "right" kind of person to be a proper fit for Francie, but that person is out there. We just have to find him/her--soon!
Fresh on the heels of getting a successful home for Seamus/Buster, in my "out to save the world, one dog at a time" zeal, I decided to hone in on my training efforts with Francie, the young white pitbull at the shelter. All we know about her is that she's very smart and loves to snuggle, but she also tends to freak out and grab her leash with her teeth (which my poor thigh still bears testimony to from nips several months ago). She is absolutely ball-obsessed and INTENSE in everything she does. For example, Francie doesn't just drink water--she DRINKS water, frenetically lapping up everything in the bowl, splashing and dripping, as though she hadn't had a drop of water in the past week.
Because of Francie's intensity and unpredictability, I can't bring Francie home to foster. Until I know more about her, I don't want to risk my family, Cabana, our cat, or our home. Still, I felt I could do more for her than just taking her for a short walk and playing 20 minutes of Chuck-It with her until she was too pooped to go after the ball anymore, whereupon she would lay down in the dirt and gnash the ball into shreds.
So yesterday, I asked for permission to take Francie offsite, to give her a change of scenery, see how she behaves in the car, and eventually, in weeks to come, maybe I could even take her to my house for an hour or two. After all, how a dog acts in a house is what potential adopters want to know--is she house trained, does she get on furniture, does she chew shoes, can she be left on her own, etc. We don't have any answers to those questions right now, so how many people are going to be willing to adopt her? Although I guess it only takes one.
Francie was okay in the car, definitely not as stressed as Seamus had been. I put her in Cabana's usual spot in the back of the car. Looking in my rear view mirror, I could see the top of Francie's back convulsing and convulsing. I thought she must be vomiting, the way her back was undulating like crazy--is she car sick? No--she was just humping the dog bed. Humping and humping and humping. What's with that?!
I made Francie a purple front-clip harness, to keep her from yanking the dickens out of my arm. At the shelter, Francie tends to pant and pace. If she's within 100 yards of the Chuck-It area, she pulls like a draft horse to get over to it. She doesn't sniff, rarely wags her tail, and can't seem to relax.
The road in front of the shelter is super ugly, not many good smells, and lots of trucks. I took Francie to a nearby lake with a pretty path encircling it, where we ran and walked for 2 miles and then did a bit of training (sit, down, come) with a retractable leash. Francie heeled very nicely in the harness and seemed generally happy and calm to be away from the shelter. Good things!
That was yesterday. Today, I decided to change things up a bit with Francie. Again, I ran/walked with her for 2-3 miles, then we stopped at the park where I always take Cabana. It was raining, which was ideal because it meant the fields were totally empty. Since there's still a lot I don't know about Francie, I didn't want other dogs around to create potential problems.
I thought Francie would look at the big green field, full of soft grass, and think, "Wow, this is awesome!" But instead, she was tentative. She stuck close to me, even though I had put a 10-foot drag line on her so we could do some recall work (with me still holding the drag line, just in case something made her bolt).
After about 10 minutes of walking on the field and practicing "come", I let Francie have the frisbee that I had been holding. I didn't want to bring a ball since Francie is already so ball-obsessed, but I thought a frisbee might be a nice alternative for her. Holy guacamole, was I wrong!
Francie took the frisbee in her mouth, and it was like a switch went off. She became frenetic, growling and thrashing. She wasn't being aggressive toward me, yet I couldn't tell if this was her way of playing or exactly what she was doing. But it was undesirable behavior, to say the least. I got the frisbee away from her and hoped we could go back to just walking calmly...toward the car! But Francie started biting and pulling at the drag line, which suddenly became exceedingly long and cumbersome and impossible to pull away from her.
The one thing that has always made Francie stop this kind of behavior is a squirt bottle. A couple squirts of water in her face, and she stops whatever she was doing--so I ALWAYS have a squirt bottle with me when working with Francie. And I had a squirt bottle with me now--but maybe because it was raining, the squirt bottle tactic didn't work! After all, she'd been "squirted" by rain all morning.
Suddenly, I was vexed that no one else was at the park, since no one would hear me calling pitifully for help. Finally, I had to unclip the drag line, drop it and everything else I was holding, grab Francie by the collar and drag her to the car.
(Sorry this post is so long. Thanks for hanging in there with me!)
In retrospect, I don't know if it was the frisbee that triggered something. But what I do realize is that Francie is a dog who has done nothing new in the past 60-120 days (however long she's been at the shelter, I don't know how long she's been there). She's been looking at the same four walls for 23+ hours a day! I was being overly ambitious in exposing her to new things. A car ride and a 45-minute walk would probably be more than sufficient, and I should have been much more gradual in doing more. She's just so muscular and athletic, I thought she could handle and would be craving more physical activity--but I forgot to consider her mental capacity. Some dogs may have been fine with what I did, but since I don't have any idea what Francie's past was, I should have been taking baby steps, not leaping vaults.
I learned a lot today, and thankfully, I don't have any new teeth marks on me. And I've made it through to try to save the world again tomorrow...or not.
I am thoroughly enjoying my volunteer time at the animal shelter. I've been going 2-3 times a week, although I often wish I could go more often, while at the same time always feeling like there are other things I SHOULD be doing with my time than playing with dogs. Like, working and making money, for example. But the animal shelter is SO gratifying that many of the other volunteers go there everyday--huge kudos to them. 
I have to admit that I have fallen in love with Francie, a young white pit bull who could NOT be more different from Cabana. Francie is all lean muscle, with a thick powerful neck, and a mouth that spans the entire width of her head. She has also bitten me three times--I know, yikes. But they were ALL accidental! Twice, it was because she was trying to bite the leash in my hand (she has a horrible habit of playing tug with the leash) and grabbed the side of my thigh along with the leash. And the third bite was because she was gnashing a tennis ball while leaning against my leg, and she caught a piece of my jeans and my skin with her teeth (like I said, her mouth is really wide).
Francie is absolutely ball obsessed. There is a long narrow run behind some service buildings near the shelter, so narrow that I have thrown countless balls onto the roof of the service building or over the fence on the other side. You have to aim the ball dead center, or it's gone. If I try to take Francie for a walk before taking her to the Chuck-It run, she objects vigorously, which involves playing tug with the leash (hence, the two aforementioned bites). The only thing that seems to stop her from these antics is a squirt bottle, and it works like a charm. I don't even have to squirt her now; just pointing it at her is enough to stop her. Too bad it took me a couple injuries to figure that out (they weren't terrible bites; my skin was broken and rather bruised, but I didn't need a band-aid or anything, probably thanks to the sturdy denim of my jeans).
To be clear, we won't be adopting Francie (but I do have hopes of fostering her if my family would agree, which is doubtful at best). She and Cabana haven't been introduced, although I do think they'd get along. But I think Francie is just too much dog for us--I see it in everything she does. She carelessly runs into stumps and rocks, nicking up her legs without a care (Cabana would be carefully picking her way around obstacles). She DEVOURS tennis balls in her huge jaws--it's kind of scary to watch her ferociously rip one apart. But Francie is also SO sweet and smart. She has totally wormed her way into my heart, and I think about her all the time--I'm crazy, I admit it.
Actually, it's addictive to see the positive changes in all the dogs I've worked with (three of them, all pit bulls), even in a few short weeks. The first couple times, of course, I had no relationship with the dogs, and they wouldn't even take treats from me. The shelter is a stressful environment, so much change, uncertainty, noise, chaos. But after working with the same dogs every time, they are responding more and more, walking a bit nicer on leash every time, enjoying a grooming session or a belly rub, leaning up against me for a cuddle. A little love and stability goes such a long way. Makes me wish I was going there again tomorrow.
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