Male Bonding

Today, my wonderful and supportive husband went with me to volunteer at the shelter. Saturday isn't one of my normal volunteer days, but I was worried that with Easter tomorrow, a lot of the regular volunteers might not be able to make it. The training director and other volunteers were enthralled that I had brought my husband. There are woefully few male volunteers there for some reason. Perhaps it's the same reason why there are disproportionately few male puppy raisers? I figure it has to do with the nurturing instinct.

This is Salem. I've been told that when he first came to the shelter, no one could get near him. But after tons of rehabilitative efforts, he is a gentle giant. Sweet as can be and look at that happy grin!

Here he is in the Chuck-It run. See what I mean about how narrow it is? A few more tennis balls bit the dust over the fence today.

My husband had a German shepherd when he was growing up, so when I saw this shepherd mix come into the shelter, I hoped my husband would have a chance to meet him. I suspect this shepherd had a little to do with his decision to volunteer today...in addition to wanting to spend time with me, of course.

This dog and another male German shepherd were picked up together as strays two weeks ago. I was shocked that the owners hadn't come to claim them. A few days ago, the other shepherd got a new home.

And this one is probably going to get adopted lickity split. Here he gets a cuddle on my husband's lap. The shepherd looks like he's about 2-years old, was super mellow once we got him out of the kennel, and walked calmly on leash for my husband. Yes, we'd kind of like to keep him for ourselves, but we know he doesn't need us. He'll be adopted so quickly that the shelter isn't even bothering to give him a name.

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Helter Shelter

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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