Well, that sucks

As anyone in rescue can tell you, there are both highs and lows, randomly interspersed, sometimes so close together that they seem annihilate one another. One such day occured a couple years ago at a vet's office. I was there to hold a dog's head and kiss him goodnight for a final time as he was euthanized. With my eyes still red and wet from the tears, I went into the next exam room and picked up a new foster pup who had just been brought in for exam and vaccines. He covered my face with much needed kisses. My point being, that there is rarely time to process one event or emotion before you are forced to move on to the next.


Saturday was such a day. Samson was adopted. That's a joyous event, and nothing can take away from it. But today I also returned a dog to a shelter. That's a terrible event, a failure, something that we in rescue look down upon when other people do it. And I hate myself for it even though I think it was the right thing to do, or at least the only thing I could do. That is what we often forget about people we call "dog dumpers." Some of them are in bad situations, often not of their own making, and surrendering their dog to a shelter seems like the only thing they can do. I need to remember that and be a little less judgmental, because there are many people who would look at what I did today with the same contempt.


The dog in question is Nikki, a female German Shepherd from the Fluvanna County SPCA. It is my home county and I try to help by taking dogs from them when I can. It's a rural county and a relatively small shelter, but it is well ran-- far better than most rural Virginia shelters. They had called me before Thanksgiving and I had gone in to meet Nikki and agreed to take her when I got back to town. I went last Tuesday and brought her home. I didn't do much in the way of a temperament test of the dog, but I talked to the shelter manager who knew the dog. Nikki has a rep for being hell on chickens and cats, but was said to be good with dogs. However, at my house Nikki was very dog-aggressive. She would get excited and her excitement would explode in a burst of aggression towards the nearest dog. There was never any blood, but she had poor Bud so scared that he retreated into a crate in the shed for a day and wouldn't come outside. Bud actually pooped and pissed inside, which he has never done. When I would go out there, he wanted to come to me but wouldn't when she was around. Now Bud is a 100+ pound rottweiler. He has the biggest head I've ever seen and could have easily killed Nikki when she attacked him. However, Bud is not a fighter. He would defend himself as necessary and shake her off, but he preferred to stay away from her rather than fight with her. I could have tried her with other dogs, but I didn't want to put anyone else through that. Bud did nothing to provoke it and he handled it beautifully. With most other dogs there would have been a bad dog fight. She also broke a kennel gate and broke out of a crate, so it was clear she was going to be a difficult dog at best.


I've come to the point that I realize that we can't save them all and taking in a difficult dog takes away time and space from other dogs that I could help. I don't really feel guilty about it because I do think it was the right thing to do, but I do feel sorry to have failed this dog.

Samson goes home

My first post on this blog was about Samson, a young male German Shepherd Dog. Samson hadn't fared well in the shelter environment and had developed a touch of pneumonia. As predicted, he bounced back quickly, is an awesome looking dog, and has just been adopted. He will be continuing on antibiotics for two more weeks in his new home, because as the vet reminded me, pneumonia doesn't go away quickly even though the dog seems to be recovered.

This is a great home for Samson, I hope. A young couple, the wife is a nurse and works only 3 days a week, although those are 12-hour shifts. The husband can come home for lunch most days and they have a network of dog-friendly neighbors and friends who can help out when needed. Samson has had no training, but he isn't particularly difficult. He's got a great disposition and seems willing and eager to learn. They live near a couple of dog parks in Richmond and Samson should enjoy going there.

The only real concern is the new owners' two cats. Samson has seemed disinterested and easily put off by the cats that he's met so far, but being in a home with them is a different situation, so we will just have to wait and see. The adopters have a large crate for use when they aren't around, they are smart people and have done some reading on dog/cat introductions, so this adoption seems to have a lot going for it. She wants a dog to go with her everywhere and to do things with. That's a good gig for most any dog, and particularly for a shepherd.

So I gave him a kiss on his big, beautiful head, and wished him well. If this adoption works out, Samson will have been a "short-timer" here, which means I'll have trouble remembering him in a year and he won't remember me in 30 days. That's the way it should be. Ideally, foster care is a brief respite in a dog's life-- a way station where they can safely pause, rest, recover, and get directions before continuing on their way.

A Senior Dog with Senior Needs

I haven't been a regular foster for CASPCA until this summer. I would take large breed dogs from the shelter into one of the other rescue groups that I work with, generally shepherds or rottweilers. I have also fostered dogs with ringworm, because I have the facilities to keep them isolated from others.

However, this summer when the floors needed to be re-done in the kennels, I took in five dogs as fosters. They were a very mixed bag. One got adopted quickly, 2 others I returned when the floors were done. One of them that I still have is Amisha, or Amy as I call her. Amy is part shepherd, for sure, but I can't really venture a guess on what else went into her make up. It came out nicely, however. She's got a beautiful red and black coat, thick like a husky's, and 4 white legs and feet.

Amy is probably 8 or so years old. She's a senior girl with senior issues and senior needs. She has some arthritis, although not enough to keep her from doing anything that she really wants to do. She does need a little help getting into a car. She has a dry eye that needs some ointment on a daily basis. She doesn't like being bothered by a bunch of young dogs in her face. She likes her own space and her own pace. Amy loves to lie in the sun on a warm day. She will roll over for a belly rub from absolutely anyone. In fact, it's her standard greeting rather than a sniff, lick, or wag of the tail.

What she really needs of course is a home of her own, which she would enjoy gratefully and gracefully, providing companionship and love for anyone willing to do the same for her. Amy will stay with me as long as it takes to find her a home.

A Typical Day in Rescue

Tuesday was a pretty typical dog day. Up at 5:00 a.m. and got most of our own dogs out to the dog yard for a pre-dawn romp. I fed all of our dogs and most of the fosters, except Rocky, who was scheduled to be neutered and Samson who was going to the vet. Rocky (right) was dropped off at the SPCA at 8:00 a.m. for his vaccines, heartworm test, and neuter. He whined most of the way in, and once we arrived he lifted his leg on everything within range, both inside and out. I picked up a bag of dog food from the SPCA because I'm keeping 4 of their fosters now.

Samson came along to meet Sammy, the SPCA's resident test cat. Sammy lives upstairs and roams between the various offices, hallways, and conference rooms doing whatever the hell he pleases. I don't know Sammy's story, what is wrong with him or how he came to be there, but he is a permanent fixture. He earns his keep as being a test cat to judge the degree of cat aggression displayed by dogs. Sammy looks like he's seen it all and he is not intimidated by dogs. He's very good at sensing a dog's level of aggression and he can and will protect himself by flight or fight as necessary. Cats are more common than dogs as pets these days and it seems that everyone has them, even people wanting to adopt dogs. So, finding out if a dog is cat-friendly or at least cat-tolerant is a necessary prerequiste to many adoptions, including Samson's prospective home. Samson was great with Sammy. He displayed little interest in the cat and no sign of aggression even when Sammy batted Samson's nose with his paws.

Next we were off to a 9:00 a.m. vet appointment across town with Samson. He still needed vaccines and I wanted the vet to recheck his lungs for signs of the pneumonia. One side sounded clear, the other side wasn't yet, so he is continuing on antibiotics for another two weeks. He had gained almost 10 pounds! He still needs another 15 pounds, but he is doing very well.

We stopped in Charlottesville on a couple errands and then headed back home for an 11:00 a.m. meeting with a young woman from Richmond who was interested in adopting Samson. That went very well and I liked her, so the adoption is going to happen on Saturday. She understands about the pneumonia and I don't anticipate any problems with that.

I spent a few hours at home pretending to work before heading back to Charlotttesville to pick up Rocky. I stopped on the way in to make an appointment to fix the brakes on the van, and then picked up 30 pounds of Zachary's frozen raw food diet from a pet store. Rocky was still sleeping off the anesthesia when I got to the SPCA. I had to lift him out of the cage he was in, but he walked out under his own power. Then it was back home for another round of feeding; dealing with a dog-aggressive female shepherd who was beating up on my rottie, Bud; putting away Zach's raw food; and getting Rocky settled into a crate upstairs in office for the night. I answered emails about dogs, took a call or two, and made dinner for us as well. Maybe I'll get some work done tomorrow.

Zachary's Thanksgiving, 2008, Kentucky

When we were contemplating getting away for Thanksgiving, it looked like we'd have to take Samson along as well as Zachary. Samson is a foster who came in about a week ago with a touch of pneumonia. He's a wild man with no manners and would have wreacked havoc at my sister's house. Fortunately, he recovered quickly enough that I felt comfortable boarding him along with the others. The 2 SPCA fosters went back there, 3 went to a boarding kennel we've used for years, and 8 others went to a new kennel recently opened by another dog rescue person.

So, we loaded up Zachary in a travel crate, tied a larger crate on top to use once we got there, and headed off to Kentucky. At a reststop along the way a man approached me after seeing the VGSR signs on the side of the van. That happens fairly often. I usually hand them a card, exchange a few pleasantries if it's not a redneck, and get on my way. This guy wanted to chat. He was an Airedale person, but he had a rescue dog and planned to get another when the time comes.

Thanksgiving was a success. Zach was definitely out of his comfort zone, and was content to hunker down under a table next to Clay much of the time. Zachary (named for Zachary Taylor because we were sticking with central Virginia names) has traveled with us to Thanksgiving for the last couple of years. Boarding him is difficult because of his special diet. Zachary came to us as a rescue along with his father, Ryker, and a female shepherd. All three dogs were forcibly surrendered by the owner as an alternative to facing neglect charges. Zach was just a pup at the time, maybe 3 or 4 months old. They were all emaciated, but Zachary was the saddest looking foster we have ever taken in. Every rib was showing, his hip bones were protruding and even his face looked sunken. He looked like a starving refugee child from one of those Save the Children commercials. To top it off, he picked up a fungal infection that gave him black spots all over his skin. The spots were off-putting to potential adopters although they very quickly resolved. But by then, Zachary had bonded with Clay, and Clay had bonded with Zachary, so we kept him.

The three dogs had been owned by a couple of backyard breeders who got divorced. The husband ended up with the dogs but apparently didn't feed them. To make matters worse, both Zachary and his father, Ryker, have a digestive problem that makes them unable to process any dog food containing grain. Consequently, Zachary now eats a combination of raw food and EVO, which makes him difficult to board when we travel.

Once we figured out the digestive problem, both dogs filled out beautifully. Ryker was adopted and is still doing well. The female that came with them didn't have the digestive problem and she was adopted almost immediately. Zachary grew to 80+ pounds and is one of the prettiest shepherds I've had or seen. He was recently used by the Charlottesville-Albemarle SPCA as the poster dog in an election season fundraising promotion that they developed. He is absolutely devoted to Clay, in spite of the fact that I'm the one who feeds him twice a day. He's not the smartest shepherd we've ever had, but he probably is the sweetest.

A Harry Homecoming

Harry was found wondering the streets of Charlottesville. He had virtually no hair, walked with a limp, and generally looked like hell. The kind folks at Old Dominion Animal Hospital took him in, treated him, and got him set on the road to recovery. Don't ask me why, but I took him in as a foster. Harry was an old man then and still didn't look very good, and his adoption prospects were not great.


I'd take him to adoption events with both Animal Connections and Virginia German Shepherd Rescue. Although he didn't find a home, he did make a lot of friends, and he developed his own fan base. He was also good for donations. He was so sad and pathetic looking that you could put a jar on top of Harry's crate and collect a tidy sum by the end of the day. So he at least pulled his own weight.


Adopters for senior dogs are few and far between, but they are out there and it's my firm belief that Dog holds a special place in heaven for them, right next to the treat container. Harry's luck changed at the Vegetarian Festival in Charlottesville a couple years ago. He went to a wonderful home where he has thrived. He made an appearance with Animal Connections at the annual day-after-Thanksgiving parade in Charlottesville. I missed him because I was out of town, but the picture with the red scarf proves that he's a well-loved, lucky dog.

A Thanksgiving Rottweiler

On Thanksgiving Day, 2007, a large but malnourished rottweiler appeared at the home of a dog-loving couple in the Shenandoah Valley. They own a boxer and were watching the neighbors' dogs at the same time, so the straying rottie must have figured it was a likely place to hang out. The home is situated near an exit on Interstate 81 and most likely the dog was dumped by his prior owners. These kind folks took in the dog, called him Buddy, and put him up in an outdoor kennel that their boxer didn't use. He had access to a warm workshop, shelter from the elements, and three square meals a day. This undoubtedly represented a big increase in the dog's standard of living. But he was still thin, had a large goiter-like growth on his neck, needed medical attention, and needed a permanent home.

I was never real clear on the connection, but they knew someone who knew someone who knew me. I got an email from them and eventually, Clay and I made a trip up there and brought Buddy home. It was close to Christmas when we got him, so we called him Nick. The growth on the neck wasn't serious and it was removed along with his testicles. He recovered fully, put on weight, and grew into an absolutely gorgeous rottweiler. He was sweet, friendly, and playful, a typical rottie. Unfortunately, rottweilers tend to attract 10 times as many bad adopters as good ones. Their popularlity with drug dealers gave them a bad reputation that brings out an irrational fear in otherwise rational people who would make good adopters. So many people who do want them are not people I will adopt to, and I don't.

It's not unusual to have a rottie for 6 months to a year, sometimes more, before finding a good home. Nick was lucky, however. His adopter appeared just a couple of months later. She had lost a big male rottie and was looking to fill a void that only another rottie can fill. She actually runs a shelter and rescue operation herself, she lives in the country, and was a perfect match for the dog all the way around.

Nick now lives with cats, other dogs, and even horses. He goes to work at the shelter every day and teaches young male dogs appropriate manners. He is a goodwill ambassador for the breed, but mostly he is a loving companion for his new owner. She is equally devoted to him. That's just about as good as it gets for a dog, or a person. Nick got yet another new name, Griff, but he is too busy loving life to worry about what someone calls him. Just don't call him late for dinner.

When I picked up mail from the post office after our recent Thanksgiving trip to Kentucky, I had a card and a check from the folks who found Buddy/Nick/Griff at their door last year. They have kept in touch with me and are thrilled that he found such a wonderful home. It is people like them, and Griff's new owner, who keep my glimmer of faith in humanity alive.