It's a dog, damn it



Our Molly, I'd trust her with anyone,
but I don't trust her loose in the office.
She is still crated when left alone.

 When I do write ups for my foster dogs I make no guarantees and generally say "unknown" in response to the questions about being housetrained, cratetrained, good with (whatever).  There's a few reasons for that.  First, I genuinely don't know in many cases.  Second, a dog's behavior here may be different in some respects from behavior in another environment, either initially or over time.  Third, I want adopters who are prepared to take on some unknowns, who will deal with current or developing problem behaviors, and who will judge a dog based on it's overall temperament, not a laundry list of specific factors.  When people have a long lists of "musts", I cool to them as prospective adopters.  Dogs are not that predictable. 



Our Trooper
I'd trust him to protect me,
but I'll never trust him around strangers



While adopters are going about evaluating dogs, I am evaluating them.   If they must have a dog that is perfectly housetrained, low key, good with cats, kids, or whatever, that is fine, some people's lives create certain requirements and it's best to be realistic about that.  But from my perspective each "must" is an obstacle to adoption and it tells me that the dog will be coming back if it makes a mistake.  The more restrictions or "musts" that the person has, the fewer dogs qualify.  If they will only accept a perfect dog, then they have a lot of competition among adopters because I can place a perfect dog with anyone.  Merely saying that you are willing to give the dog two meals a day, an annual vet visit, and a walk around the neighborhood when you have the time on a nice day and have nothing better to do, doesn't impress me and doesn't motivate me to adopt to you even if you passed our minimal application approval process.  It often seems to be the case that those applicants who have the most requirements for the dog have the least to offer.



Our Bremo
He's hell on wooden spoons
 or any food within his 6' reach



I've had dogs returned because they haven't "lived up to expectations", weren't perfectly housetrained, developed perfectly normal possessive/protective behaviors that the owners couldn't handle, and otherwise exhibited normal canine instinctive behaviors.  I've heard one prospective applicant ask "what will the dog do when I have people over for a dinner party?"  I once adopted a sweet hound dog to a woman who thought he had an "old soul" and wanted to play classical music to him, but she returned him the first time he took a dump, even though she "did manage" to clean it up without help.  I have even had a dog returned because it chewed up an expensive sex toy.  These sorts of incidents and returns say far more about the people than they do about the dogs. 


Our Zachary is an angel compared to most,
but his digestive system has never been trustworthy.
Shit happens, unexpectedly sometimes.





Dogs are scavengers, particularly if they have had to make their living that way.  Yes, some of them will get into the garbage.  That is probably how they learned to survive.  But there are ways to dealing with a garbage dog short of returning him.  Put the goddamn trash under the sink, in a closet, out of reach, or in a dog-proof container.  The same methods work to protect the cat food, cat litterbox, sex toys or anything else that the dog is attracted to.  This isn't rocket science, it's common sense.  But it also requires, in addition to common sense, a commitment to the dog and a willingness to make some accommodations and adjustments.  If your dog is a counter-surfer, you learn to keep your counters clear, your food put away, and you work on resolving the problem.  Our Bremo was a countersurfer and he's tall enough that it wasn't much of a challenge for him.  But a generous amount of cayenne pepper sprinkled in a line along the counter's edge sorted that out pretty quickly.  He also exhibited a fondness for wooden spoons.  We keep them out of his reach even now, 10 years later. 



Tevya with his first bed



Tevya with new bed



There's a guy on Facebook who has a photo album titled "Things I've lost due to my pain in the ass dog" with pictures of everything his beloved pitbull has destroyed.  When Tevya was first adopted, the first thing he did was destroy a brand new bed they had bought for him.  They laughed it off and bought him another.  Hercules bit a child in his home that he didn't meet initially and wasn't properly introduced to.  They didn't laugh it off, but they worked it out and they are now best friends.  My mother's dog bit her in some sort of terrier incident; they are still together.  Trace and Koa were both adopted recently based solely on temperament, with no promises or representations (or demands) made about their housetraining or how they would behave at a dinner party. 

Three of the fosters I have now are returns--Luke, Tessa, and Jeremy.  Returns are my failures, not the dogs'.  Not every dog is right for every home.  I like to think I've gotten fairly good at judging people, but people are tougher to judge than dogs and some of them do fool me or surprise me still.  Sometimes I do an adoption knowing that it's a chance, because sometimes you gotta take a chance.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  I don't beat myself up about it, we just try again.