Progress and Potential

What kind of progress have you made in the last 5 weeks?  Have you finished a semester at school or a project at work? Have you made and stuck to a New Year’s resolution?

Unless you’ve accomplished a herculean feat, it’s safe to say Jack has put us all to shame…collectively.

Five weeks ago, he came to us matted and shy. He cowered in a corner as we brushed out clumps and clumps of dead hair. He scampered away from doors and froze and whimpered at the sights of stairs. He didn’t know where to do his business and wanted nothing to do with a crate. He didn’t even know how to eat a bone—only how to hide it for future use. He neither knew commands nor understood the concept of walking on a leash.  

But boy, he had a willingness to learn and please.

And so he has.

Today, Jack has a beautiful and healthy coat. He’s gregarious and loving with every person he meets. He pushes his way through doors  and sprints up and down the stairs just for the hell of it. He’s both house trained and crate trained.  He chews on bones instead of hiding them. He knows sit, stay, down, and shake and walks politely on a leash. At adoption day this afternoon, a five-year-old boy had Jack responding to commands, and two third-grade girls walked him around the store.

He’s a dog that’s just brimming with trainability potential. In fact, he vaguely reminds me of a border-collie mix named Ollie from this episode of DogTown. Sherry, the trainer, proves that it’s possible to train homeless mutts, such as Ollie, in important service capacities like search and rescue.

We've taken Jack this far; it’s only a matter of time before his forever family comes along and helps him fulfill that potential.

Okay, so we still need to work on some eye-mouth coordination.

The Stresses of Adoption Day

Adoption Day is exciting, disappointing, educational, and stressful all at the same time.

Every Saturday, we spend 5 hours at the local Petco with the rescue group. It’s a chance for potential adopters to meet the animals, plus it allows the organization the opportunity to spread information about the humane treatment of animals. It’s so important.

But it’s also stressful. Consider the stressors on the animals. Let’s use dear Jack as an example:

“Oh, car. You want me to get in the car? I barfed in there once, and I don’t want to have to do it again.  Oh well, let’s give it another try. ::hop:: Yeah, yeah. I’m okay back here, Foster Mom. Stop asking if I barfed. Just keep your eyes on the road.

Hey, I remember this place. It’s where the pets go! Huh? Doh! That sliding door gets me every time. So many smells in here. ::sniff, sniff:: Dogs, cats, ferrets, birds, rawhides… RAWHIDES!

Oooh, people are walking through that sliding door. Come pet me, pick me, love me! Oooh, now dogs are coming to sniff me ::ruff, ruff::, little girls are coming to strangle me, and little boys are pulling my ears. Help! Okay, I’m tired. I need some peace and quiet. Can we get back in the car yet, Foster Mom?”

It’s equally as stressful on us humans, too.

First thing in the morning, we pack up Jack’s things that the rescue has given us for him. This must be how contenders on reality TV feel when they have to pack their belongings on the chance they’ll get voted off the proverbial island. On the whim that he gets adopted out that day, I always want to make sure he’ll everything he needs.

[SIDEBAR: These same-day adoptions only happen in rare and special circumstances. Usually, over teh course of several days, references have to be checked and a home visit has to be made. But I pack his bag just in case because of what happened when Wookiee was unexpectedly adopted out that fateful day.]

It’s obviously not just the physical act of packing that’s stressful. It’s not knowing whether or not this animal, who has become engrained in your family and in your life, will be coming home with you in a few hours. 

Once we’re there, it’s always great to see the other dogs. Jack is VERY excited to see them too and tends to bark for their attention [constantly], so we try to keep a reasonable distance.

Then, of course, there are the people who walk through the sliding doors. I always look in anticipation, not knowing if Jack’s family may be walking right on through. Of course, Jack wants to greet each and every one of them personally.  (My back is still aching as a result.) After we’ve spent weeks trying to teach him not to jump, he jumps into the arms of these people, who praise it thinking it’s the cutest thing ever. Granted, it is cute. It’s just not cute when he does it 24/7.

As people approach, we field questions about Jack. Our answers, in order of frequency from greatest to least:

1) He’s a border-collie mix.

2) He’s about 3-4 years old. 

3) He’s neutered.

4) He’s basically housetrained, but he has marked new places on occasion.

5) Yes, he would have otherwise been put to sleep. Yes, a perfectly good dog like him.

6) Yes, he’s been here the past few weeks. No, he didn’t get adopted yet.

7) No, he won’t bite you.

8) Yes, he needs a lot of exercise. He loves playing. He would love agility training.

9) How much does he cost? There's no price tag you could really put on this pooch. The rescue has an adoption fee, which is a tax-deductible donation. It covers his transport, spaying, other medical needs, food, and so on.

10) An application? Huh? You might want to fill out an application for him? Right over here. Oh, you want the puppies instead? Oh, okay—right over there. Thank you for adopting.

For a month now, we’ve left adoption day through the sliding dogs with Jack in tow. We usually come home—all 3 of us—and pass out. The very secret and selfish part of me (you know, the part that shares all of my thoughts with you here) is happy because I know I have another week with this amazing creature. The other part is very disappointed that no one saw what a beautiful animal he is.

It’s a slow time for adoptions now, as people come off the holidays and the deep cold sets in. But we’ll pack our bags again next Saturday and get ready for whatever surprises those sliding doors might bring for all of us. 

INU - BAKA: Lexi's shell is officially gone!

I have always valued intelligence, which is probably why I'm developing a deep respect for Border Collies. (I'm fairly certain Jack has a higher IQ than some people I've met.)

A fellow blogger is fostering a Border Collie named Lexi. Poor Lexi is recovery from extensive surgery after being hit by a car. Click here to follow Lexi the Border Collie and her recovery.

When Two Worlds Collide

As some of you know, I'm a children's writer by day and dog-foster parent by night. I'm working on an assignment right now that merges my two worlds. It doesn't feel at all like work to me, but, ironically, it's not easy to write about. It's an article about dogfighting for teens.

I interviewed one young man who was on the verge of fighting his pit bull, Elmo, but changed his mind after intervention from the HSUS End Dogfighting Program. He lived in a Chicago neighborhood where street dog fighting was rampant and was just nine years old when he first went to a dog fight.

My next interview is this afternoon with John Garcia from Best Friends. [Lady friends who love dogs, this is where you get jealous. Very, very jealous.] If you've seen Dog Town, then you know who he. He was very influential in the rehabilitation of the Vick-tory dogs at Best Friends. Wish me luck!

Oh, and if you haven't seen this yet, check out this letter from Best Friends in response to President Obama's comments praising Michael Vick's second chance. I can't believe I'm saying this, but you just lost my vote, Mr. President.

A Christmas Update From Jack

Christmas was all it's cracked up to be... and more. Kim and Jonathan spoiled me silly! (Maybe it's because they decided to put up a tree last minute, and I knew not to pee on it. They really underestimate my intelligence.)











I loved opening up all my treats....

... and I even got a new toy! It didn't take me long to realize that I just have to roll it over for treats to come out.

Jonathan got two doggie movies for us to watch—Homeward Bound and Benji. Something about dogs named Chance and Wookiee? I'm not sure what that's all about.

Of course, there are two things I didn't get for Christmas that I still want—sheep to herd and a loving family to adopt me. Don't get me wrong, I love Kim and Jonathan's place. But it's small, and there's no backyard. Here's to hoping Santa is on his way with those two things. Merry Christmas, everybody!

Homeward Bound

This is the true story of a dog named Chance who was known as Patrick before and after and Patches before and after, but he was Chance in between. 

Chance was picked up by animal control in late June 2010. A local rescue group pulled him from a municipal shelter, named him Patrick, and took him to an adoption day on a Saturday in July.

It was there that a young couple looking for a lab mix fell in love with Patrick. Maybe it was his silly ears. Or maybe it was the patches on his nose.

The young couple adopted Patrick and named him Chance—after the dog in Homeward Bound that eventually finds his way home. And, after all, they were taking a chance on him. No one knew anything about his history. He had never lived in a foster home, so the couple knew nothing of his temperament or quirks. He was just a stray.

The couple soon came to find out that Chance was more than they bargained for. It started with aggressive behavior toward other dogs, then evolved into weird reactions to strangers. Soon there after, Chance developed protective-aggression behaviors toward people who weren’t “his people.” No one other than the young couple could approach him without a low growl, nasty barking, and near bites. Chance wouldn’t even let the brave dog walker into the house. Over the course of several months, the young couple worked with a trainer, but the problems only got worse. It became impossible just to walk him because of his reactions to just about everything along the way.

The young couple agonized over what to do and eventually made the tough decision to return Chance to the rescue. It broke their hearts into a million pieces. But the situation had become dangerous, and they acknowledged that they weren’t giving Chance the life he needed—confident, experienced dog owners to deal with his issues and a big yard where he could expend all of his energy.

So, on an October day, the couple gave Chance back to the rescue. He became Patrick again. As he was driven off in a van, a woman from the rescue consoled the young, crying couple. She understood that this had become a dangerous situation; in fact, Patrick had turned on her several times. She knew they weren’t bad dog owners. She offered the young couple any puppy from their rescue, or would they like to foster? They could get to know different types of dogs and learn which dog might fit their lifestyle. But the couple wasn’t ready for another dog. They couldn’t even look at or think about a dog without crying.

As weeks passed, they acknowledged that there was an empty space in their lives. They took serious consideration into fostering with the hopes of becoming experienced dog owners and helping a dog like Chance one day. But would it break their hearts to give up the dogs, just as they did with Chance? They decided that the pain of doing nothing to help these dogs is a hundred times worse than the pain of giving up a dog to a good home could ever be.

On a Saturday in November, they stopped into a local pet store where another rescue was having an adoption day. They fell in love all over again, but this time with all the dogs. They asked if the organization needed foster volunteers.

And the rescue did. The young couple took in one dog, and then two…

In the mean time, Patrick spent some cold nights in a boarding facility, then landed himself with a foster family who could help with his behaviors. October, November, and much of December came and went without any potential adopters.

Then, a week before Christmas, a little girl living a few towns away wrote a letter to Santa.

“Dear Santa, please bring back our dog Patches for Christmas. We lost him last summer and we all miss him so much.”

Out of desperation, the girl’s father checked Petfinder one last time for Patches—something he had done many times months before. He wanted to make his daughter’s Christmas wish come true. And, I know what you’re thinking, parents, but no look alike would do. Patches had very distinct silly ears and patches on his nose. Perhaps a shelter or rescue group had him now. Perhaps there was some hope. But who knows what could have happened to Patches in the six months since they lost him.

As the father searched, a familiar face popped up. There he was, Patches, also known as Patrick to the rescue group, and previously known as Chance to the young couple—us. 

The father contacted the rescue and, the very next day, Patches/Patrick/Chance was homeward bound.

The little girl got her Christmas wish, Patches found his new old home, and we were able to make room in our home and in our hearts to save the lives of two dogs—Wookiee and Jack—with the hopes of saving many, many more. 

The universe works in mysterious ways.   

No More Homeless Pets

For those of you who are not familiar, Best Friends Animal Society is the largest sanctuary for abused and neglected animals in the country. Based in Utah, the group takes in animals—dogs, cats, horses, rabbits, you name it—that others have long given up on. Among the countless of other animals they have rehabilitated from medical and behavioral issues, Best Friends also took in 22 of  the worst-off Vick dogs. More on that another time.

For now, take a look at this video from Best Friends. Cuteness overload! If you can't adopt this holiday season, consider making a donation as a gift for the animal lover in your life. Best Friends will send a card to the gift recipient and, with a $25 donation, they'll get a subscription to Best Friends magazine too!