The Dangerous Foster Dog

Some foster dogs are dangerous.
They’re sneaky and steal things.
Like your heart.
They sneak up on you with wistful brown eyes, reach into your soul, and you want to keep them forever.
This is called a foster failure. The foster families who want to keep their foster dog.
I was never a foster failure. I would never do that because I know how important it is for the next dog coming up to stay with me until he has a family.
But some do.
Some, scratch that, most foster moms I know have several foster failures and I can see why.
Scooby.
He’s why.
Scooby came into my home on a breath of fresh air. Although transport said he was cranky and fought with the other dogs he hasn’t shown a bit of aggression to anyone. Not my fourteen year old golden, Halston, not my cantankerous old calico cat, Gizzmo, not anyone who ever stepped foot into our home.
His transport people were gentle and did their best but he must have been so scared. Once he had a home. Then life happened and he was dumped, lost, scared, picked up, put in a cage, shipped on a truck with lots of big, noisy, scared dogs. The truck stopped and he was taken out of one cage and shoved in another with more scared, strange dogs.
I’d probably snap at someone too. . .
Scooby is love wrapped in fur. All he wants out of life is to play and to love.
When he first came into our home he gave Halston a sniff and ran to Gizzmo to play. I guess since Gizz is about the same size, Scooby thought she was another playmate. Gizzmo was not amused. To this day, three weeks later, she’s still not amused with Scooby.
I work full time.
Scooby is young.
When I’m gone I crate him because he seems to think everything is a chew toy. I’m afraid he’d electrocute himself or something when I’m gone.
He leaps the gate so I can’t even leave him in the kitchen.
And I want to keep him.
My heart breaks at the thought of giving him away.
>sniff<

Scoooby doo beee doooooooooooooo

Scooby came from Missouri and is looking for a new home. He's just a year or two old and loves his toys!
When Scooby first arrived we dunked him right into the tub, but his back was so matted he really needs a trip to the groomer. I could probably clip the dreadlocks off myself but I'd make a bigger mess of it than he already is. He goes tomorrow morning and I can't wait to see him all cleaned up.
This little fellow is a charmer. He love people and wants to please. He already knew how to sit when I offered him a treat so I think he must have been in a home at one point.

New Foster Puppy!

This little man came up from Mississippi tonight. We immediately put him and the five other pups he came up with into the sink and washed him up with Dawn dish washing liquid. (Dawn kills fleas.)
He came into the house very sweet and friendly. He went nose to nose with the cat and then walked away. Good sign. Right now he's playing tug of war.
First night is going well so far.
One problem...they sent him up saying he was a she and named Rita. After his bath we discovered she's a he. So we're thinking up a new name. I like Scooby. My daughter votes for Benji and, because of his mop of hair, Swiffer.
We'll see what name fits his personality....

Just a Foster Family

When you fall in love with a foster who has fit into your family so well it's sooo tempting to want to keep her. And there's been a few here and there that I wantd to keep. I almost felt like I would be betraying the pup who I knew was falling in love with us as much as we were falling for her. When the dog goes from absolute fear to meeting my eyes with love and devotion it's hard to give her up. I tell the pup I'm just a foster mom and I was here to find her a good home with people who will love her forever. I say this over and over and I know maybe I'm just trying to convince myself.
When they leave sometimes it feels like my heart has been ripped from my chest. Will they understand that I did love them and that's why I gave them up? Will they know that their trust wasn't betrayed and that moving them to a new home is the best thing for them?
I worry.
I think about them day and night.
Hoping their adoptive peeps will be extra gentle with them for a few days as they adjust.
I worry.
I think.
And wonder if this is the dog I should have kept.
And if she'll forgive me for passing her on.
I cry over this.
And then I remember that by adopting this one out, I save one more. That's the prize. The gift for the one I adopted out and the gift for the one on death row in a shelter somewhere.
So for the pain in our heart of the dog we adopted out and the hope in our heart for the dog on death row we remind ourselves that we are just a foster family. We take them in, heal their pain, and find them a forever home.
It's what we do.
We are foster families.