Foster Frenzy
My twin daughters knew we could shower a pooch with love and affection.
My twin daughters recently graduated from college. With most of their immediate hopes and dreams shattered by COVID-19, they were back home with all their worldly possessions for the first time in four years… and bored out of their skulls.
“What if we fostered a dog?” One daughter casually asked this question after being cooped up for several weeks.
Both girls had been extremely close to Izzy, the beloved Scottie we’d gotten as a puppy when they were ten years old. But, Izzy had passed the previous year and the only dog left in the house was Lulu. We’d rescued Lulu, a Shitzu-Cockapoo mix, about six years ago from a hoarding situation. From the moment we brought her home, she was obsessed with one living being… ME.
Fostering made a lot of sense. The girls would be able to shower a pooch with love and affection. If for some wonderful reason they had to move on for a job opportunity, there would be no need to worry about bringing a pet with them. At least not until they were settled and ready to make that kind of long term commitment.
We knew Lulu wouldn’t be very happy to have another dog in the house. Ever since Izzy had left us, Lulu was happy to have the canine domain all to herself. We could only hope she’d behave herself around the guests who’d be joining our household, albeit temporarily.
After applying to several local rescues, they finally heard back from one called A Purposeful Rescue. APR’s particular niche is finding dogs in high kill shelters who might not be the first choice for adopters due to advanced age or medical issues. A lot of the animals have been surrendered by neglectful owners and are often in pretty bad shape. APR labels all of their rescues ‘Magical Unicorns.’ Once they’ve been sprung from the shelter, the dogs are given whimsical new names as they begin their journey to a better life.
“They have a dog for us!”
Both girls were so excited to pick up the first foster and get this show on the road. They picked her up from the vet and walked in with a pathetic fluff of something wrapped up in a blanket.
“She’s really ugly.”
Foster number one was a teeny Pomeranian who’d had her eye removed due to an infection. The rescue named her Farfle. This little thing was on heavy meds and would start shrieking every night at exactly 3am, obviously experiencing some sort of doggie night terrors. Fortunately, Farfle was adopted quickly by a young couple who had recently lost another one-eyed pooch. She is now living the sweet life in the high desert.
Fezzec was next. Weird name until we found out this was the character played by Andre the Giant in The Princess Bride. Then the name became totally cool. Fezzec was a laid back dude and a lot easier to handle than Farfle.
“Can we keep him?”
I was afraid this question might come up, I just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. I encouraged my daughters to keep fostering. They provided a calm way station where neglected dogs could rest and re-build their trust in humans.
Rigatoni was a cute little chihuahua type of thing. He had a ton of personality and a lot of medical issues. Since the rescue was footing the bills, they went to great lengths to find vets who would offer a steep discount for their services. The girls were driving dogs to clinics and specialists all over Southern California.
By this point, both girls had found minimum wage jobs that helped take their minds off of their non-existent careers. This was clearly not how they’d envisioned post-college life. Neither one was getting much satisfaction from the work, though they were happy to be making some money. Fostering was where they were finding true moments of happiness. And I was amazed at their instinctive abilities to nurture these little guys… getting up at all hours of the night to give them medicine or take them out to do their business or just showering them with so much affection. The dogs were clearly thriving under their care.
“What’s wrong with this one?”
We were taking a walk through the park when a friend spotted us with Challah, an overweight, blind dachshund. The rescue sent over low calorie dog food and after a week or so this gal had a spring to her step. You could literally sense her excitement when she was able to roll over for the first time in who knows how long.
Then came Eyore. This cattle dog was absolutely terrified of his own shadow. Most of the time he refused to leave his crate. After several frustrating days, Eyore went to stay with the founder of the rescue, where he was exposed to her ‘disciplined and well balanced’ fleet of fosters. After about a month, he was adopted into a family with other dogs, since being around his own species apparently helped to keep his stress level down.
If Lulu was a friendlier type of dog, maybe Eyore would’ve been more comfortable in our home. But, when any foster would approach her and try to smell her behind or try to engage in play or, in the case of male dogs, get frisky… she’d bare her fangs or give a subtle growl to warn them off. Most got the hint fairly quickly.
The next fosters were a funny old poodle named Merengue (like the pie) followed by a wacky shnoodle named Vanya. Our current guest is a gutsy 12-year old terrier-mix named Nacho. He likes to sit on my lap while I’m writing and curl up next to me in bed. After having them around for several weeks, it’s hard for all of us (except Lulu) to say goodbye to these sweet boys and girls. Fortunately, the prospective adoptees always come to our backyard for a meet and greet and a walk around the neighborhood. My daughters have the final say about whether they think it’s a good fit or not.
Every few days someone will shove their phone in my face and show me a random photo or video of a dog doing something cute, like standing on its hind legs, smiling.
“Mom! Don’t you know who that is?”
They look at me in disbelief because I rarely recognize it as a former foster. I think of the sad little critters that first entered our home and are now thriving, in large part because of the care and tenderness they were shown during their brief stay here. I know my girls are eager to have the world open up to them so they can start the rest of their lives. But, it makes me so happy to know there’s also a sense of contentment to be home, focused on someone other than themselves.
