Life without fosters

Maya, spotting deer

It's weird.  I can't remember the last time we only had our own dogs at the house. There's still Max, of course, but even I can't really call him a foster with a straight face any more.  It's nice in some ways. Feeding time is a breeze with only eight dogs to feed. My time and attention isn't spread quite a thin. There's fewer dogs in the bedroom at night, although the floor is still pretty much wall-to-wall dog bed.

Maya and Gigi, sharing but each wishing the other would move.

Maya on one of our recent hikes.

They both seem to want the same spot more often than not.

Theo, having a drink as the tank is filling. There are two tanks
in the dog yard, side by side. I try to dump and fill one of them
each day when it is hot.

Athena with her new brother. They are close in age.
He wasn't so sure about her at first, but it wasn't
long before they were chasing each other around
the house. Now he wants to play constantly.

Athena with three of the four kids in her new home.