One of My Dogs

One of my dogs died yesterday. It wasn’t Fletcher, Folly, or even almost-16-year-old Ceiligh. And he hadn’t lived with us since early 2006. But he was still one of my dogs.

His name was Cooper and he was the first puppy that my husband, Mark, and I fostered for the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George’s County (pgspca.org) in Maryland. He was just 2 months old when he came to us from the county animal shelter, and he immediately became a part of our family. He was sweet, playful, and eager to please…everything one looks for in a prospective canine companion.

It came as no surprise, therefore, that this precious retriever mix spent just a few short weeks in our care. He was adopted by a wonderful young couple who were thrilled to add him to their small family. Like many first children, their cat was less enthralled at the prospect of a four-legged sibling, but he eventually came around.

When you foster homeless animals, you become something of a way station on their road to a happily ever after. You know your part in their story will be a temporary one, but it’s impossible not to form an emotional bond. So their departure invariably leaves something of a void in your life, and you can’t help wondering about them and if their life is as good as you’d hoped it would be.

I was thrilled, therefore, when a year or so after adopting him, Cooper’s mom brought him to see me at a community dog event where I was working as a volunteer. Not only did I get some good quality doggy loving from—a much larger—Cooper, but I was given a small album chronicling life in his forever home. I felt like a proud grandmother.

Although I didn’t see Cooper again after that, I followed the course of his life through his mom’s posts on Facebook. I celebrated the arrival of two human siblings and felt pride in how Cooper took to his role as big brother. I smiled every time I saw a photo of the three of them enjoying special moments—like Cooper’s 12^th birthday—together. He was a dog well loved.

But every love story comes to an end, sooner or later. Last Wednesday, Cooper began having trouble breathing and was taken to a veterinary hospital, where he was diagnosed with aspiration pneumonia (the same affliction that led to my father’s death last year). The veterinarians tried four different antibiotics but Cooper’s health continued to decline. His mom spent Sunday night in the veterinary hospital by his side, willing him to rally. But on Monday it was obvious that the miracle his family was hoping for was not to be, and they gave him the ultimate gift of a peaceful passing, showing him love throughout.

When I heard the news, I cried as if Cooper were my own. Which, in a way, he was. No, he didn’t live with me, and in the eyes of the law he wasn’t mine. But in my “foster mom” heart, where perhaps it matters most, Cooper—like all the fosters who have passed through our door—was and always will be at least a little bit mine.



Posted with eternal gratitude to Cooper's adoptive family.

The Right Name

Dog of the Week: Ghillie

Six years ago this month, my husband and I welcomed an adorable, six-month-old, brindled Plott hound mix pup into our home. Although we knew--given her sweet, playful, happy personality--that she wouldn't be with us long, finding the "right" name was, as always, important to me.

At the time, we had two dogs with dance-related names: Tango, named for one of our favorite ballroom dances, and Ceiligh (pronounced Kaylee), named for an exuberant Celtic dance party. With her four distinctive white paws, our foster pup seemed to call for some sort of footwear-based moniker. But Boots, Slippers, and Socks seemed too ordinary for her exotic good looks. So she remained nameless for several days while I pondered and researched.

Finally, I hit upon the word ghillies, soft shoes worn by women in Irish dance. So Ghillie she became.

Less than a month after her arrival, Ghillie found her forever home, complete with a male golden retriever playmate, who she kept entertained (and in shape) with her fancy footwork.

I don't know if Ghillie kept her name...but I have no doubt that she's still dancing her way joyously through life!




 

An Angel in Our Midst

Dog of the week: Angel (fka Shirley)

In 2006, my husband and I welcomed a darling fluffy, brindled puppy into our home as a foster for the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County. As with all our fosters, I agonized over what to call her. In her case, the choice was made for us.

Within hours of her arrival, the intrepid little explorer ventured onto an 8-inch-wide, 4-foot tall brick wall bordering our patio, and before I could retrieve her, toppled off...just like my mother-in-law, Shirley, had from her own brick wall while pruning shrubs. Fortunately, unlike my mother-in-law, who broke her wrist, our little pup suffered no harm. Still, given the similarity in their experiences, the name Shirley seemed meant to be. So Shirley it was for the duration of her stay with us.

Which wasn't long. In just two short weeks, Shirley was adopted by a wonderful family with a 12-year-old son who had been longing for a dog. In fact, it was the son who had been checking Petfinder.com for a potential canine companion. And it was he who gave Shirley her new name: Angel (because of the white cross-shaped blaze on her chest).

Angel quickly became a much-loved member of her new family, who shared her story for my book A is for Angel: A Dog Lover's Guide to the Alphabet. (To order your copy, just click on "Buy now" below the thumbnail of the cover.)

Short of Stature, Large of Heart

Dog of the week: Oscar

Oscar is not what one would call a "dignified" dog. In fact, he's quite the opposite. With a head and coloring reminiscent of a Rhodesian ridgeback and the the build of a Basset hound, he looks a bit like a sculpting assignment gone wrong. But when he scurries excitedly up to you, stubby legs and big paws scrambling, and peers adoringly at you with his mismatched eyes, all you can think is what a wonderful, charming dog he is!

Oscar lives with my friend Sandy, who saw him in the county animal shelter seven years ago and decided to foster him for the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County. Given her love of Basset hounds (her first dog as an adult was a Basset), it came as no surprise to her friends when she decided to make him a permanent part of her family's pack.

It's a decision she's never regretted...despite a couple of orthopedic incidents: surgery to straighten a foot (his) and a broken finger (hers). The first was caused by inherited conformation issues; the second was the direct result of Oscar chasing a squirrel while attached to a leash held by Sandy.

And then there's Oscar's penchant for stealing--and eating--panties and socks. Fortunately, surgical intervention has never been required...although it's been a near thing a couple of times.

But with his big heart and exuberant, happy-go-lucky personality, it's easy to forgive Oscar his few foibles. He has a way of making every day--and every evening--a little brighter.
 

Best--and Most Expensive--Rescued Dog Ever

During my years as a volunteer with the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County, my husband and I fostered 17 dogs...mostly puppies. They were all adorable and I have fond memories of each and every one of them, but I'll also confess to having a few favorites. Among these extra-special temporary Townsend pack members was Jack, a German shepherd mix pup who came into our care when he was just eight weeks old. Given his adorable looks and joyful, happy-go-lucky personality, it wasn't long before he caught the eye--and captured the heart--of a woman named Brenda.

From our first conversation, it was obvious that Brenda was one of those people who consider their dogs family members and that she would do anything and everything within her power to ensure their health and happiness. After mourning the passing of a previous dog, she was eager to welcome a new canine companion for herself and her Australian shepherd, Josie. And she was convinced Jack was the one.

And she was right. From the very beginning, Jack and Josie were a mutual appreciation society of two! Although they were very different--she a Lady and he more of a Tramp--they brought out the best in each other. He was the Yin to her Yang.

So it wasn't surprising when that when Josie died, Jack became deeply depressed, not wanting to get up in the morning and showing little interest in life. It was only when Brenda adopted a new puppy, Lacey, that Jack's happy, carefree nature blossomed once again. His relationship with Lacey is very different than his relationship with Josie--she's quite a little pistol--but they enjoy each other's company and their life with Brenda, which includes a huge yard to play in and regular trips to the Outer Banks.

But it hasn't been all roses and sunshine. Over the years, Jack has been afflicted with a variety of health issues, including a serious form of irritable bowel disease that requires a special diet, regular medication, and even occasional emergency hospital stays. And he recently underwent surgery to repair a ruptured a canine cruciate ligament (the dog equivalent of an ACL). Can you say "cha-ching"?

Good thing Brenda adores him...as you can see from this lovefest! 

"Best--and most expensive--rescued dog ever!," she says with a laugh.

Y is for Yuki

Dog of the Week: Yuki

Yuki entered the foster program of the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County in 2008...at the same time as I was working on my second book, A is for Angel: A Dog Lover's Guide to the Alphabet. I was having difficulty finding a canine model with a name beginning with the letter Y and, thankfully, her foster mother came to my aid by naming the puppy Yuki.

With her adorable wrinkled face and endearing personality, Yuki found her forever home in no time, and her new mom, Tracy Long, contributed the following copy to accompany my photo: 

Yuki is the antithesis of the description, “What you see is what you get.” She has taught us that there is so much more—to her and life in general—than meets the eye. Wonder is waiting around every corner. Each smell and sight and sound contains worlds within it. And if you stare into the pools of Yuki's eyes—those windows to treasure houses of mischievous love—I think you'd see, as we have, a small child laughing.

Yuki loves life! For her, its daily routines are events to be anticipated and celebrated. She has taught us the beauty of welcoming every moment as if it were a gift…even the moment in the car when, without warning, she looked right at us…and pooped in the back seat.

There are times we're convinced she’s hoarding stubborn wisdom in the folds of her skin, the kind of wisdom that—like Yuki—may not come easily or quickly, but if asked and sought for will eventually come…the kind of wisdom that says, “Don't be afraid to contain multitudes.” Yuki certainly isn't.

She is Shar-pei, she is shepherd, part terror, part teacher. Her lessons: forgive often, love well, and dig it all! Though she is undoubtedly one of the clumsiest dogs I have ever seen, sometimes when I see her running towards me—those ears floppin' and that skin flappin' as she barrels clumsily into me, licking my face—I think I am witnessing pure grace.

What a gift it is to be given the opportunity, every day, to love Yuki and have her love us back.

To order you copy of A is for Angel: A Dog Lover's Guide to the Alphabet for $14 (including shipping within the continental U.S.) please email DigitalDoggyPhotography@gmail.com.

Celebrating Fall with Fundraisers for Animals

Autumn is a time of pumpkins, cider, falling leaves...and dog-related events. At least that seems to be the case for those of us involved in animal welfare causes. For me, three such events occurred during successive weekends. The first was a Puptoberfest celebration organized by Eleventh Hour Rescue in Rockaway, NJ; the second, a the 25th anniversary party of the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County (PGSPCA) in Clinton, MD; and the third, a Bark and Bowl fundraiser in Bethesda, MD, for the National Canine Cancer Foundation.

My involvement at each event was different. I sold and signed copies of my books Black is Beautiful: A Celebration of Dark Dogs and A is for Angel: A Dog Lover's Guide to the Alphabet at Puptoberfest, with profits going to Eleventh Hour Rescue, an organization that has found homes for some 5000 animals since 2004. Photos of these animals were displayed on an eight-sided (four sides, inside and out) covered wall at the event.

It was my first time at Puptoberfest, which has grown over several years from an event that began with fewer than 100 participants to one that regularly draws more than 1000. With vendors, activities, food, adoptable animals, and a fantabulous band, it should serve as a model for other organizations, like the PGSPCA.

While the recent PGSPCA celebration was held specifically to commemorate 25 years of caring and working for animals in Prince George's County, MD, I'm hoping it will lay the groundwork for yearly celebrations for our volunteers, adopters of our foster animals, and other area animal lovers.

Those of us on the planning committee had a good plan, complete with food, games and contests for humans and their canine companions, prizes, raffle baskets, and advance promotion. What we didn't have was good weather...a critical element for a primarily outdoor event. Rain kept most people at home, and those of us who braved the elements were confined to a park shelter. Still, my fellow humans and I enjoyed food, drink, and good conversation, while the canine participants explored the agility tunnel and played some scent-oriented games.

The most recent animal-related event in which I was involved--the Bark and Bowl--was completely different from the other two. As the name suggests, it centered on bowling. The goal: to raise money for the National Canine Cancer Foundation to fund grants on research on the prevention and cure of canine cancers. Teams comprised of business colleagues, members of non-profit organizations, or just groups of friends collected dononations from sponsors ahead of time and then tested their skills on the lanes of Bowlmor Lanes in Bethesda. Money from raffle tickets and the sale of food, drinks, and NCCF merchandise also supported the fundraising efforts.

I can't speak for the majority of participants, but my team mates and I had a blast...despite some less-than-stellar bowling scores. Actually, my husband, Mark, although he prefers duck pin, held his own admirably. But even his three strikes in a row couldn't offset my series of gutter balls. Oh, well...I drowned my sorrows with a "fizzy French bulldog" and called it a day, happy to have been part of such a worthwhile fundraiser.

Now? Now, I'm taking a break from the "event" circuit and enjoying weekends at home with those I love. Oh, and cleaning walls and baseboards in preparation for the painters' arrival next week.

Just another "extra"ordinary brown dog

A first glance, the 10-month-old puppy looked like just one more plain--albeit dark--brown dog: ordinary, nondescript, forgettable. But first glances can be deceiving.

Take the word "brown" for example. It can describe so many of life's treasures and pleasures: the crispy saltiness of pretzels; the rich creaminess of hot fudge sauce; the weathered texture of tree bark; the sparkle of smokey quartz; the glossy sheen of a chestnut mare's coat.

In the case of this deceptively unremarkable dog--named Devon by his foster family--brown is of the deep mahogany variety, shot through with unexpected golden highlights. And it sets off a pair of equally striking brown eyes.

I had ample opportunity to gaze into these eyes while caring for Devon last weekend because he spent a lot of time looking at me. And as I glanced into their amber depths, I discovered a very special dog indeed.

First and foremost, Devon is a dog who desperately wants to love and be loved, a dog who craves attention but doesn't have complete confidence in the dependability of the human species. He bestows doggy kisses with great enthusiam but also a touch of desperation...as if he is trying to convince both of us that he is worth my time and attention.

As sad as such insecurity makes me, it probably isn't surprising considering that Devon spent most of his short life in a backyard, not abused or legally neglected, but always relegated to the role of observer of--and never participant in--family activities.

Also not suprisingly, such human indifference has also led to separation anxiety. The day after Devon arrived, I put him in a large, lightweight, collapsable metal crate in my office for three hours while my husband and I went out. Upon our return, I discovered an empty crate with the door still latched, and Devon standing in the center of a pile of books, knick-knacks, and torn mini-blinds. Poor boy!

Over the next couple of days, I put Devon in a crate (a much sturdier one) for a half-hour or hour at a time...always with a treat, such as a frozen peanut butter-stuffed kong. Each time, he seemed less stressed. My sense is that while he may never love being crated, he'll accept it when necessary. And as his fear of abandonment decreases, he may not require crating at all, especially if he has a canine companion to keep him company. Even when he created chaos in my office, he didn't chew a single inappropriate item.

In spite of, or perhaps because of, his questionable past experience with people, Devon is incredibly eager to please. He's also smart. He already knows how to sit although the concept of "stay" seems foreign to him. He walks well on a leash and doesn't pull...unless he spots a squirrel or all other small mammal.

Mostly, he just wants to be near his people...an incredibly appealing quality in a dog.

Each night, as we climbed into bed together and drifted off to sleep, I bet our dreams were the same: for him to find a family who will see how special he is and will give him the love, care, and attention that all good dogs deserve.

To learn more about Devon and how you can make his dream come true, click here.

I Rescued a Human Today

Another volunteer with the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County shared the following. I don't know who originally wrote it, but it sure touched me and I just had to pass it on. And remember, the dogs below are just three of the many that would love to rescue you. Just walk down their corridors at the Prince George's County animal shelter; they're waiting.






I RESCUED A HUMAN TODAY

Her eyes met mine as she walked down the corridor peering apprehensively into the kennels. I felt her need instantly and knew I had to help .. I wagged my tail, not too exuberantly, so she wouldn't be afraid.

As she stopped at my kennel I blocked her view from a little accident I had in the back of my cage. I didn't want her to know that I hadn't been walked today. Sometimes the shelter keepers get too busy and I didn't want her to think poorly of them.

As she read my kennel card I hoped that she wouldn't feel sad about my past. I only have the future to look forward to and want to make a difference in someone's life.

She got down on her knees and made little kissy sounds at me. I shoved my shoulder and side of my head up against the bars to comfort her. Gentle fingertips caressed my neck; she was desperate for companionship.

A tear fell down her cheek and I raised my paw to assure her that all would be well Soon my kennel door opened and her smile was so bright that I instantly jumped into her arms. I would promise to keep her safe. I would promise to always be by her side. I would promise to do everything I could to see that radiant smile and sparkle in her eyes. I was so fortunate that she came down my corridor. So many more are out there who haven't walked the corridors. So many more to be saved. At least I could save one.

I rescued a human today.

Two Tortie Kitties Looking for a Home

Meet Jasmine, an adorable 9-week-old tortoiseshell kitten. This poor white-socked babe ended up at the shelter without mom or siblings when she was only 5 weeks old. Kittens like that have such a small chance of making it, but thanks to excellent veterinary care, this one did. She was later paired with a slightly older lookalike orphan, Jessie (below), and their companionship likely helped pull them both through those rough early weeks.

Jessie and Jasmine are up for adoption from the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County and would make lovely additions to any home.

In Theory

I should have known better. There's a reason I don't go to the shelter regularly to assess potential dogs for the foster program of the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County. It saddens me to see all the animals that end up there--usually through no fault of their own--knowing that many won't make it out. Plus, given the dog-aggressive tendencies of our dog Tango (which means the establishment of complex schedules when there's a foster dog in the house), I'm trying to limit our fostering role. So avoiding the biggest source of temptation seems only prudent.

But a few weeks ago, I threw caution to the wind and volunteered to help choose some dogs for our program. Following a case of Parvo, a serious and highly contagious canine disease, the shelter had instituted containment measures that included limiting the number of dogs any visitor could have contact with to one. More volunteers on site meant more dogs we could evaluate "up close and personal."

Which was all well and good...in theory, at least. Armed with a list of dogs whose time at the shelter was running out, we found several that were good matches for our available foster homes. But...while there, a 6-month-old brindled puppy caught my eye. To be honest, she was hard to miss. She wiggled and wriggled and play-bowed as I paused in front of her kennel, determined to interact with me.

Although I couldn't touch her (I'd already handled my one dog), I knew she was special. Convinced that other shelter visitors would be as captivated as I was, I was certain she'd be adopted quickly. Therefore, I reasoned, there was no harm--at least in theory--in asking shelter staff to let us know if anything happened to jeopardize her future.

But fate has a way of reminding us that nothing in life is certain, and last week the SPCA/HS adoption coordinator received a call that the puppy's application had fallen through and that her holding time at the shelter was running out. Would we take her into our foster program?

Well, it's bad enough to know intellectually that nameless and faceless dogs and cats die in shelters across the country on a regular basis. But it's absolutely unbearable to know that the life of an animal you interacted with, spoke sweet nothings to, and expressed interest in might be snuffed out. I just couldn't let that happen.

So the sweet brindled puppy is now a guest in our home, where she will stay until the right "forever" family turns up. Given her four white feet, I named her Ghillie--the word for Irish dance shoes worn by women in shows such as Riverdance. My husband had suggested Boots, but even though I grew up with a dog with that name, somehow--in an era of dogs named Abby, Sandy, Phoebe, and Jocelyn--that just seemed too pedestrian for a canine of Ghillie's distinctive looks. So Ghillie she is.

And once again, I'm shuttling dogs from inside to outside and one room to another so that Tango's and Ghillie's paths don't intersect. And I'm feeding in shifts (with Ceiligh eating either with Tango or Ghillie). And my life is a bit more complicated, but also greatly enriched. And not just in theory.

Saved from a Life on the Streets: A Special Mother's Day Post

A friend of mine works in construction...building, renovating, and remodeling homes. Her most recent contract took her to a Baltimore neighborhood of rundown, abandoned row houses in sore need of a facelift. During her months on the job site, she befriended, fed, rescued, and found homes for a number of street cats. But one cat in particular captured her heart.

This beautiful medium-haired cat visited the job site almost daily--not only for the food my friend distributed but also for some human interaction. She seemed to crave attention...and the comfort of my friend's truck, where she would spend hours dozing in the front seat or on the dashboard. She even ran after the truck when my friend left for home in the evening.

Given the cat's sociable nature, my friend thought crating her and taking her to a vet would be easy. But she was wrong. Although the cat loved being in the truck, she absolutely freaked when placed in a closed-door crate. In a complete panic, she thrashed about to the point that she scratched and bloodied her face and caused the crate to tip over. Afraid that the cat might get out of the crate in the truck during the drive, my friend reluctantly let her go.

But the cat's situation continued to weigh on her mind...especially as it became apparent that the cat was pregnant. And then the cat disappeared...only to materialize again on my friend's final day at the job site. She showed up for food and then led my friend to the backyard of an empty row house. There in a box of trash under a table, my friend discovered three kittens just two or three weeks old.

The proud mama purred with pleasure and allowed my friend to take the box of kittens back to the job site. With the kittens under her watchful eye, she even deigned to ride in the truck with them...no crate necessary.

Today, mom--now named Biddle for the street on which she was found--and her kittens are safe and sound in my friend's garage in a large crate (with the door always open) full of blankets. They've been seen by a mobile vet and determined to be in good health.

Biddle is a wonderful, doting mom. And she loves sharing her family with visitors--and being petted while she nurses. She purrs constantly (making it difficult for the vet to listen to her heartbeat). Like her kittens, she will make someone a fantastic pet!

All four of them will be made available for adoption once the kittens are weaned and they and Biddle are neutered. In the meantime, they are enjoying their new life of safety and comfort...far from the mean streets.

Seeing through the Eyes of a Rescued Dog

Since fostering rescued dogs has been a fairly significant activity in my life over the past few years, I thought I'd share the following reflections based on my experience with one of these wonderful dogs...reflections that were originally posted as part of the blog of the SPCA/Humane Society of Prince George's County:

Sometimes we forget that the ordinary, everyday world can be an exciting, surprising, and even scary place…when seen through the eyes of a dog just rescued from the concrete confines of the shelter. Objects, environments, and situations that we ignore or take in stride can cause very different reactions in a recently “liberated” canine.

Take Kourtney, one of our recent foster dogs, for example. When she arrived at our home, she was afraid to even come inside, much less go up or down stairs. A couple of days later, having mastered the stairs, she noticed a life-sized statue of a small puppy standing near the wall in our den. She crouched down, belly to the floor, stared, and began to growl. I had to turn the statue on its side and hold it in my lap before she would approach to sniff it. We repeated the process several times before Kourtney was completely convinced that this very still dog who showed no appropriate greeting behavior wasn’t a threat.

One night while I waited for what seemed forever for her to “go potty,” in the backyard, Kourtney spotted a cicada as it flew clumsily onto a low-hanging trumpet vine branch. She watched it intently for a moment and then made her move, knocking it to the ground and pouncing on it with apparent glee.

And the next day was the day of the pinecone. While on a walk, Kourtney suddenly froze in that position that suggests uncertainty about whether to advance or retreat. I couldn’t figure out what had spooked her, but then noticed a pine cone lying in the dirt. She stared, circled it, and stared some more. Tentatively, she touched it with her nose, only to jump back in surprise at the sensation. She circled some more, touched it again, then gingerly picked it up and carried it proudly for a few moments as we walked before dropping it as if it were of no further interest.

Kourtney’s stay with us was characterized by such small but momentous discoveries…discoveries that I feel blessed to have share with her. Ahhh, to see through the eyes of a rescued dog.