Sammy

The very first foster I ever had was a one-year-old female black Lab named Samara, aka Sammy. We got her about a week after I signed up to be an SCLRR volunteer, on July 11. She had been in a shelter and had a wicked case of kennel cough. When I met her she couldn't stop coughing.

Once she got over her coughing, she became the sweetest, gentlest, most affectionate girl ever, incredibly eager to please and wriggly and happy. The rescue expected her to be an "easy" foster -- I'd have her for about a week, throw her picture on the site, and applications would come flooding in.

Well, it didn't work out quite that way. In fact, Sammy is still being fostered by us.

What happened?

Well, a few days after I had her, I noticed that she slightly favored her right rear leg. Then one day, she went flying after a ball and came up on three legs. We ended up taking her for a consult with two doctors, who discovered that she had had a previous broken leg that had been repaired poorly and had healed badly. Her kneecap was an inch out of place, and her tibia was completely misaligned.

Her surgeon said that when he first opened her up, he wondered whether amputation would be the better option. He said he had never had to manipulate a bone that far. He inserted three pins and hoped for the best.

Sammy's rehab was full of setbacks. Her first set of pins didn't hold. She had to say in the hospital for a week and take massive calcium supplements to encourage bone growth. Finally she was allowed to begin rehab walks, but she always seemed reluctant to put weight on the leg. We kept hanging in there with her, hoping she would get better.

About three weeks ago, Sammy went back for another visit with her surgeon. At that point she was hardly using the leg at all. The x-ray revealed that her leg was loaded with arthritis. She was already taking pain meds, calcium supplements, adequan injections, glucosamine pills...and she still was not using the leg.

At that point, the decision was made that we wish we could have made six months ago, had we known what she would endure: We would have to amputate.

For months, we had been trying to save this dog's leg. Now, faced with her losing it anyway, we were more sad that she had to endure more hospitalization than that she was going to lose her leg. After all, she really wasn't using it anyway, and it was an appendage that must have been causing her considerable pain.

Her amputation surgery was Tuesday. When her foster went to pick her up Wednesday afternoon, she expected to see Sammy sad and hurting. Instead, Sammy was sitting happily in the reception area, waiting to be taken home. Her foster said she was obviously happier and more at peace than she has been in a long time.

It took her a couple of days, but on Friday she figured out how to jump on the couch unassisted, which made her and her foster very happy.

Sometimes dogs with three legs are hard to find homes for. We had a three-legged dog a few months ago named Daisey who stayed unadopted until we made a video of her playing with another dog. Once we did that, she was adopted within a week. I met Daisey, and she has the same wiggly, wriggly personality that Sammy does. I am totally confident that Sammy will find a wonderful home.

Here's the Daisey video.



And here's our sweet Sammy.

Why I do this

Dog-loving people I know often say that they could "never" do what I/we do, i.e., being a foster. The reason: They would fall in love with the dog and never be able to give it up.

Well, there's no question that it's hard to say goodbye to my foster dogs. You do become quite attached to them very quickly. But I have come to realize that there are many people out there that can give these dogs great homes -- often a better home than I could offer.

For example, I just adopted out DC to a newly married San Clemente couple. He will go surfing and camping with his new owners and get walked to the pier and the beach every day.

Jack's new owners live in Huntington Beach. The wife stays home all day with him.

Zoe's owner is retired and lives alone, so Zoe gets constant attention.

And Buddy was given to an older husband and wife in Chino. The husband is retired, and Buddy is his special dog.

And yesterday, I got emails from three out of four of those owners. After you read some excerpts below, I think you'll see why being a foster can be very rewarding.

From DC's family:

"I can't tell you what an amazing dog DC is. We are having so much fun with him. Lots of walks in town and down to the beach and pier. He pulls when he sees dogs but pulls less and less the more he meets. Everyone we meet tell me how handsome he is and I must agree he is a great looking boy! He is so well behaved in the car so I taken him around everywhere with me. We ventured out to petco to get some poop bags and he was sooo good on the leash. Thank you so much for choosing us for his forever home! We are so in love with this special boy!"

From Jack's family:

"We really enjoy him and he adds a lot humor to our days, When he talks to us is the best, Sometimes I think he talks to us, just so we'll talk back to him. He loves attention. We've also learned that if he's not by our side he's looking for something to steal to get our attention. So now when he wanders off we know what he's up to. And the sock thing is funny too, the other day I was in the shower and I saw him take my sock out of my shoe, after I got out I looked and looked and couldn't find it. Then I noticed a little bit of dirt on his nose and then figured my sock was buried outside and sure enough it was in a small neat little hole. He still keeps going to the hole tying to figure out where the sock is."

And from Buddy's family:

"Attached are more pictures of Buddy. He graduated from beginners class at Petsmart last Saturday. He was a very good student! We are so very lucky to have Buddy!"

See what I mean?

People who go to the trouble of adopting an older dog through a rescue have already proven themselves to be more thoughtful and caring than 99% of prospective owners. So yes, I miss these dogs, but it is getting easier, knowing I am doing what is best for them. Also, I help make some deserving people very happy.

DC

After having four foster dogs back to back for the last seven months, we were thinking that we would probably wait a few weeks after finding a home for Jack before getting another foster. In fact, at the time Jack got adopted, we had exactly one dog for adoption on sclrr.org. There just weren't any dogs to take in at the time.

So when our foster coordinator sent out an email a couple of weeks ago asking who wanted to foster a 3-year-old black male, I didn't respond, thinking someone else would grab him. But two days later, the coordinator called to say that no one had volunteered to take him. He was scheduled for his neuter on a Monday, and if no one agreed to foster him he would have to go back to the boarding facility.

Um...no.

The coordinator warned me that DC was a very large dog. When I first met him at the vet's office, he wasn't as tall as I expected a 106-pound Lab to be. He was just huge -- a big frame encased in big, hard muscles.

It's funny how different two male Labs can be. Jack was playful and high-energy. DC is mellow and laid-back and loves to hang out. He has never been in a crate because he doesn't need one; he's 100% trustworthy in terms of destructiveness and getting along with the other dogs.

He was an owner turn-in, but we don't know much about his background except that his previous owner became mentally ill. We do know that in less than two weeks, he has become very attached to us -- particularly to Chris. In fact, his fondness for my husband is beginning to concern both of us. Wherever Chris is in the house, DC is right there. When Chris leaves, DC looks out the window until he returns. When Chris goes to the bathroom, DC waits right outside the door. When Chris watches TV, DC puts his gigantic head into his lap and falls into a deep sleep. On one such occasion I took their picture, which I included in his adoption bio.

If our circumstances were different, DC might be my first "foster failure" -- that's what rescuers call adopting your own foster. He's a big huggable teddy bear and he loves us. I am going to be extremely picky about who he goes to. I want someone who will let him on the furniture and let him sleep with them, because that's what makes him happy. He won't need long walks or daily sessions chasing a ball. He just wants human companionship. In return, he will give boundless love and loyalty.

Jack is in his forever home

We finally found a forever family for Jack yesterday...or, rather, they found him. He was with us only two weeks, but it was kind of a whirlwind two weeks, because this was my first "normal" adoption. Meaning, not only did I have Jack for only a week before putting him up for adoption -- he had no medical or other issues that would have precluded that -- but he was the youngest of the three dogs I've had. The younger, the better in terms of the number of families interested in adopting. Conversely, the older the dog, the fewer applications you get.

With Buddy, who was not particularly old at age five but who had a worrisome medical history and ongoing allergy issues, the first two applicants passed on him because of his problems. After having Buddy up for adoption for nearly two months, I finally found him a home by taking him to a pet expo, where a wonderful couple fell in love with him. With Zoe, age six with behavioral problems, I got one application in six weeks -- and she adopted him.

With Jack, we got applications right away. The first lady was looking for a mellow dog. I said no outright. The second app was from a couple in their 20s, newly married and living in a new condo in Pasadena. They came to meet Jack and, although they were extremely nice, they were pretty freaked out by his energy level. (Jack didn't help his cause by acting like a complete lunatic when they arrived.)

The third applicants were a mom, dad and teenage son from Ventura who had never had a dog before. They were even more freaked out than the newlyweds when Jack charged out of the house and began jumping on them.

Applicant No. 4 was a lawyer who lived in downtown L.A. She was great with him, but she lived in a condo, and the closest grass was a long block away. Also, she was a slender woman and he is a puller. We mutually decided it wasn't a match.

Jack's final application arrived on Friday. The family consists of a dad, an at-home mom and a teenage son that live two miles from the ocean in Huntington Beach. Their golden retriever, whom they'd adopted at age four and who had lived to age 16, had died last summer, and they missed having a dog. They had been looking for a younger dog, but their family rep gently steered them toward Jack, and we set up a meeting for Sunday.

We decided this time to put Jack on a leash to meet them. So instead of jumping uncontrollably, he greeted them by straining uncontrollably against the leash and gasping for breath. Marginally better than the leashless greeting, but not fabulous.

As I was holding Jack down on the living room floor, trying to get him to stop writhing and gnawing on my hand, I assured them repeatedly that he was only like this when he first met people, and that for most part, he was a pretty calm dog. And then, miraculously, he calmed down.

I wanted to make sure they knew what they were getting. I asked, "Have you seen 'Marley and Me'?" They had. That made it easy. "He's got some Marley attributes," I told them. I said that male Labs were often more exuberant and goofier and quirkier and probably a bit more work, but those qualities also made them interesting and more fun. I think they're also more dependent and affectionate than females, in general.

I suggested they take him for a walk and see how they got along. This was a quiet family, and I thought he might be too much for them. Twenty minutes later, they came back and said they wanted him. That told me they "got" him. Yes, he is kind of out of control in certain situations. He steals socks and he doesn't like his crate and he's mouthy and he pulls on his leash sometimes. But he's also incredibly good-natured, beautiful, playful and friendly, and he does care about being a good dog. Even if he never gets another ounce of obedience training, he'll still be a great dog. He'll never hurt another person or another animal, he'll be a faithful and loyal companion, and he'll always be in a good mood.

The house was so quiet last night with him gone. With no Jack to play with, my dogs snoozed all night. I was able to leave things out without worrying that Jack might steal them, eat without having Jack beg and go into my closet without Jack rummaging through the laundry basket. I watched TV all night without Jack climbing up beside me and shoving his ball at me, urging me to toss it a few feet. I went from room to room without being followed.

We miss him.

Jack

Our new foster dog's name is Jack Daniels, but we are not going to call him that. To us, he is just Jack. Why would anyone name their dog after a brand of whiskey? Could that provide a clue as to why his owners are divorcing, losing their home and giving him over to rescue?

We got Jack about 24 hours after Zoe found her new home. It would have been OK to take a break, but no other foster was available at the moment, which meant that Jack would have gone into boarding until one came available. I hate to think of any dog in a boarding kennel, so I asked if I could take him.

Jack is a yellow Lab who turns 4 on Jan. 15. As with all fosters, Jack took some time to settle in. He got very worked up and was panting very hard until we decided to put him in his crate to let him settled down. After 10 minutes we checked on him, and he was dead to the world.

His owners assured us that Jack liked his crate, and he did go in willingly the first time. But when he woke up at 3 a.m. Sunday and needed to go out, he refused to go back into his crate. I'm sure an outside observer would have been entertained by the methods of persuasion I employed between 3 and 4:30 a.m. to try to get him back in, but it wasn't very fun at the time. :-(

I tried bringing him into our room, but after half an hour of trying to stop him from rummaging through everything, I went back to trying to shove him into the crate. He would flop on the floor outside the crate and not budge. I threw treats in there, and he would reach in with his paw while leaving the bottom half of his body outside the crate. OK, I can laugh about it now.

Anyway, about mid-afternoon on Sunday, after a lot of playing and walking, he finally settled down and took a snorey nap. Last night he was following us around the house and being generally adorable.

He's another one who never had much training, having spent most of his time outside, but he is housebroken and seemingly more socialized. The other dogs like him. He seems like a typical male yellow Lab: playful, goofy and active. About a 6 on the 10-point Marley scale, with 1 being easy-peasy and 10 being incorrigible.

I can put him up for adoption after having him a week, and I'm sure he will get a ton of apps because he's relatively young and super-cute. I will try not to get too attached to him...yeah, right.

A new year -- and a new home for Zoe

Late on New Year's Eve, I received a note from one of our family reps that one of his potential adopters had expressed interest in Zoe. In reviewing her application, I saw that she was the same applicant whom I had rejected six weeks earlier, when I read that she was looking for an older, mellow Lab.

Six weeks ago, Zoe was anything but a mellow Lab. She was hyper and overactive, with a penchant for ripping things to shreds and an unsettling barking habit. But since that time, she had changed -- so much so that I had to rewrite her biography on the rescue Web site.

When you think about her background -- stuck in solitary confinement in her backyard for her entire six years, with little human contact, forced to entertain herself day after day, sleep alone in the dark night after night -- is it any wonder that she was filled with anxiety, and unsure of how to behave, when suddenly being around strange humans and dogs 24/7, and living in a house?

Her owners gave up on her early. If they had given her the attention and training and companionship that every dog needs and deserves, they would have seen her grow into the affectionate, obedient and, believe it or not, docile dog she became in only a few weeks.

So on New Year's Day I phoned Zoe's potential owner, a fiftysomething Inglewood woman and UCLA grad who was early-retired from jobs with the city of L.A. and the Metropolitan Water District. She had adopted a middle-aged black female Lab from us in 1998, and that dog, Pepper, had lived 10 more years. I explained Zoe's history in detail, including the barking issues that had been handled with a water spray bottle, and she was undeterred.

I packed Zoe's things -- including the spray bottle -- and took her to her very nice home on a quiet street with a park nearby, and they hit it off. (Turns out Zoe bears an uncanny resemblance to Pepper.) When I left, Zoe was standing on her porch with her new owner, who later emailed me to say that Zoe was sleeping on her floor. (Maybe Zoe appreciated the peace and quiet of her dachshund-free new home.)

I miss her, of course, but mainly I'm happy for her -- happy that she will at last have her very own human.