ADOPTED: Ariel's Foster Failure

You may rememberAriel, the 8-year-old chihuahua mix who spent Christmas with us while her foster family was on vacation. Well, the family came back and decided they could never let her go again, so they adopted her!

Foster failures aren't really that common. After all, if fosters adopted most of the dogs they took in, there wouldn't be any space left for them to save more dogs. But when it does happen, you know it's because that foster dog has carved a very special place in a family's heart. And so it was with Ariel Best of luck to Ariel and her forever family!

The Year of the Dog, or ADOPTED: Missy

One year ago, we said good-bye to Chance. We walked around our town's annual street fair on the first Saturday in October and hid our tears behind sun glasses. 

In turns out it's not just dogs that deserve second chances; us people do too. In the year since then, we've fostered (or helped to foster) 10 dogs—Wookiee, Jack, Karina, Bella, Jagger, Chloe, Lucy, Bentley, Zazu, and Honey. We've met wonderful people in the process (both volunteers and adopters) and have come to believe what Margaret Mead said: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has."Without a doubt, this has been The Year of the Dog.

We've taken in the dogs and transformed them from unwanted underdogs to pampered pets. We’ve given them baths, filled their bellies, taught them manners, and then found them forever homes. It's never easy to say goodbye to a dog, especially one who you've seen through some of their most vulnerable hours. Perhaps it’s even harder because we don’t have a pet of our own to cling on to when a foster dog leaves. But we’ve been able to let go when we find them better homes than what we can offer them. Upgrades, we've come to call them. (Copyright Jen at Inu Baka)

We knew we'd foster fail miserably at some point. I suppose it was only a matter of time before one came along that would fit seamlessly into our lives, and we couldn’t let go. 

Enter Missy, the black, fuzzy mutt that came into our home as a temporary houseguest last weekend but has claimed a place all to herself on our sofa, on our bed, and in our hearts.

We’re told she had a “family” in South Carolina who moved away and left her behind. A kind neighbor noticed the poor dog alone and fed her for two weeks. When it became apparent the family wasn’t coming back, the neighbor brought Missy to a shelter. In that shelter (the same one Honey came from), Missy had five days to find a home. Luckily, in that time, our rescue came across her and agreed to take her.

A few days later, Missy made her way to New Jersey with the help of the wonderful volunteer transport. Up the eastern seaboard, volunteers each drive an hour leg of the trip. The dogs are handed off from driver to driver until they reach their rescues and foster homes. As soon as we saw Missy, her big, brown eyes begged us to love her. And love her we will.

How anyone could move and leave a dog behind is beyond us—let alone a dog like this. Sweet and affectionate, smart and well mannered, she’s a mutty-mutt mix of who knows what breeds. Her size and energy level fit perfectly into our life in a condo, unlike most of the dogs we've fostered. She's good with dogs, cats, and people of all ages. You couldn’t ask for a better dog. And we believe she couldn’t ask for a better home. We are her upgrade. 

So Missy is here to stay. 

Failed Fosters (or, Are You Going to Keep This One?)

A few weeks ago, the rescue held a meeting for volunteers. We went around the table, introduced ourselves and our capacity within the organization. Many of the volunteers concluded their introductions with "... and I'm a failed foster." This means, of course, that they adopted one (or two, or three, or four, or five) of their foster dogs or cats.

One couple—who did not have a dog of their own—just recently "failed" after fostering dozens of dogs over the course of a year. Another couple "failed" and adopted a special-needs dog they had fostered for some time. The list goes on and on.

So it's not a surprise that I've been asked this question a lot: ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP THIS ONE? My co-workers keep asking. My friends keep asking. My mom keeps saying that she wants a real "grand dog" and not "grand foster dogs." Don't get them wrong; they all love that we foster. But they can't wait to see us fail.

The answer, for now, is no. We are not going to keep "this one" or any one any time soon. Here are a few reasons why:

1) We live in a condo complex where technically you're only supposed to have one dog. If we adopt a dog, then, according to the rules, we can not foster another dog. (However, many people break these rules. As long as the dogs don't cause a problem, no one complains. We could work around it.) With our schedules, it would also be a task for us to keep up with two dogs. I wouldn't count us out, but let's just say it wouldn't be easy. In essence, for every dog we adopt, that's one fewer space for a foster dog.

2) We have a busy summer coming up and will probably need to take a doggie break. We'll be gone most of the month of August, so we can't take responsibility for a dog then. (In my opinion, we need to hold off on "failing" until September; Jonathan thinks we should make it much longer.)

3) We haven't fostered a dog that would really make "failing" logical. All of our foster dogs can (and will) do better than living with us.

Wookiee, although very cute and lovable, was not our kind of dog. You know how dogs look like their owners? He didn't look like us. Plus, he was our first foster. You can't fail on the first one.

Jack, although smart and charming (at times), does not belong in a condo—by any stretch of the imagination.

And Karina, well, this girl could easily be my best friend. But, as a lab, she too deserves room to run. She also isn't great with all other dogs, which means fostering another dog would be a logistical nightmare.









In my heart of hearts, I know that one day, logic won't matter. The timing  might be off, but a dog might just come along and fit right in stride with us and our lives. (Who knows, he or she may even "look" like us.) At that point, we'll fail. We'll fail miserably. And everyone will celebrate.