Category: Dog Rescue

Knowing When To Surrender

The tree that I mentioned last week which was so concerning me – is gone. The arborist found root rot and no sap running through it. The property has a natural slope away from the barn which helps to keep the dogs drier in the winter, but it flows to the garden when we get big rains. With our clay soil, the water collects and stands in low spots – sometimes for a week at a time.

The center of the garden lawn is the worst – where the large Mulberry was. It was apparently, finally, too much.

To do rescue, you have to believe in miracles. And they do happen. But you also have to be able to recognize when to surrender. Sometimes, it is the kindest choice. The tree was not going to get better. Saying farewell to it now was for the best; another transformation will occur where it once stood.

Little Leroy’s human called it quits after just five days.

A purchased puppy – his human thought he was getting a Golden Retriever. The tell-tale double dew claw and spotted tummy and nose clearly indicate a Great Pyrenees mix.

The man said that Leroy was a little terror, costing him a week of sleep because he peed and poo’d everywhere. He must have had him loose overnight in the house, because this puppy sleeps almost through the night in a crate by the bed and lets out a tiny whimper indicating when it’s time to go potty. During the day and early evening, he plays hard with the big dogs;

in between – he naps – allowing plenty of time to get things done.

A simple joy to have around. But this man was not destined for puppy-fatherhood. Thankfully, he recognized it early on and asked us to find little Leroy a better home. Mission accomplished.

Emma was not so lucky.

At three and a half, she was largely left in the backyard. When she was inside, she was crated with little or no interaction with the family. She arrived with no vet records, no leash skills, and no training. Both Emma and her people would have been better off to recognize that things were not going to get better and to have surrendered her sooner. Emma’s most impressionable years were not well spent. It’s up to us, now, to ensure her transformation to a happier life – which we will gladly do.

The arborist recommended a Tupelo tree for the spot where the Mulberry was. It can withstand the water in winter and drought in summer. It will grow large and shady – and be stunning in fall. It was hard to give up on such an established member of the garden – but life would not have gotten better for our stately Mulberry. Sometimes, you just need to know when to surrender.

Thank you, big Mulberry…for the joy and shade you brought us as long as you could.

Breaking Through Barriers

Grace and I have something in common. It’s called barrier frustration. My nemesis is the pushy tall Asters that have encroached upon their gentle neighbors. The thinning is endless.

Grace’s issue is the barrier that keeps her from meeting other dogs on her terms. Whether it is a kennel door, fence, or sometimes, the leash – the reaction is the same.

I know a little about this from my flying boy, Yogi.

The first time I took him for a walk around the neighborhood I realized I had myself a project dog. Every time we passed another dog on leash, Yogi literally launched himself – like a helicopter – straight up in the air until he was at eye level with me growling and snarling like a rabid animal. It took a few walks for me to see that his tail wagged and back end wiggled just before this reaction took place. What he wanted was to meet the dog – but he was completely lacking in proper dog social skills.

Dogs have a meeting ritual which was completely lost on Yogi when leashes were involved. The reaction he got from his excited stare sent him into a tailspin and earned me more than a few startled looks. If a dog is punished for this behavior, or not taught an appropriate alternative response, its reaction to another dog may change from excitement to frustration to fear and aggression.

Yogi and I worked for many months on “watch me” – earning a treat each time he focused on me instead of a passing dog. It requires that the handler be watchful themselves, combing the landscape for potential trouble. Once he had that down, the command became “look, dog…watch me.” Now, the minute Yogi sees another dog, he looks at me in anxious anticipation of his treat which he only earns after the other dog has passed without incident and he has assumed a watchful sit. He has been introduced to all the friendly neighbor dogs and has welcomed foster dogs (young and old) into the house. Part of this is training; part of it is growing up. He has rounded the corner to age three. But all of what I initially saw was about him telling me “don’t hold me back.”

Grace was found in Folsom State Park. No collar or microchip. No one claimed her.

The person who found her had her for nearly a week and was able to share that she was good in the house, good with kids, but horrible on leash when she met another dog. Her reaction was the same in the kennel, or in adjacent yards with a fence between. And it got her into trouble. But she had strong advocates who recognized that the trouble was not intentional and thankfully, it was not grave; a human had simply gotten in the way.

For the safety of all, she was assigned a special team with advanced handling skills and the physical strength to guide her.

She was gradually and carefully introduced to other dogs in play group – a barrier-free setting. Like Yogi when he first came to us – she is young: only one year old. And her social skills, like his, need work. Her play style is what we call rough and ready (or rough and tumble!). She is definitely too much for some dogs, but with the right dog match – she is a fun and exuberant playmate.

Roo is one of her very favorite friends. You might remember Roo from this post. Talk about two dogs transformed.

With all of her improvement, this week is about a “get Grace home” effort: creating a special video, updating her photo on the website – and most importantly – helping to change her internal “rep” demonstrating the progress she has made.

As for the encroaching Asters: they get no such break. They are simply out of here!
Think good thoughts for our Gracie girl, please. It’s her time.

Second Chances: Look Back

Working on a special project, I have been looking back at some old photos (if you can call them that) dating back to when I first began volunteering at the rescue. They are pretty bad. I can’t believe I had the audacity to post them. Just goes to show: I’m still capable of growth and learning at my advanced age!

Two volunteers, Chris and Steve, make repeated appearances as they were fixtures at the rescue at the time.

I have always had rescue dogs – but Chris and Steve had a whole different breed of rescue dog: some of the hardest, most unpredictable, and potentially dangerous cases if not handled correctly. The kind of dogs that don’t usually get second chances.

I saw Chris and Steve’s talents with Shelby. I wrote about her here (please excuse the horrible photos). Chris, in particular, spent years earning her trust including something as basic as the ability to touch her paw. Eventually, Shelby was able to go home with them, but hemangiosarcoma stole her just one month later.

They turned their grief and talents toward two dogs in particular: Goldie and Sammie.

Goldie was a bounce-back dog. Adopted and returned, she was described by some (including me) as bi-polar. She would seem fine one minute, until something set her off. She was wary with strangers, had a strong sense of “this is mine,” and was reactive around other dogs.

Sammie was a beauty – but there was something not quite right. She too had a quick on/off switch that went from play to battle in an instant. Like Goldie, she was reactive – but more obviously so – to the point of spinning herself into exhaustion in the kennel.

Only certain people who had earned their trust were allowed to take them out. I was ended up coming to an understanding with Sammie, but Goldie never trusted me – so I kept my distance.

Neither dog was adoptable. The only way they were going home was with a volunteer who understood them, and had the training to keep themselves, the dogs, and others safe. Chris and Steve had an average-size home that was already filled to capacity with rescue dogs. Kennels are not good places for reactive dogs and, as time wore on, I admit to wondering if it would have been kinder to let them go. If we had play groups back then, we might have seen a different side of them. But Chris and Steve had a plan. Unfortunately, it involved leaving the rescue. Fortunately for Goldie and Sammie, it involved moving to Colorado where a much larger home and plenty of outdoor space could be purchased for a fraction of California prices.

Goldie went home first.

And then Steve came back for Sammie. They were simply not leaving without her.

It has taken years for the “Golden Misfits” to find some sense of peace and enjoyment with each other. (Photos courtesy of Golden Misfits)

The significant issues of Goldie and Sammie are balanced by helper dogs, Missy and Tigger (now departed),

and the newest addition: Murphy.

Pork Chop adopted himself to the family shortly after they arrived,

and the ancient but adorable Jessie stayed long enough to thoroughly enjoy the snow.

It seems like each – with the exception of young Murphy – has had a brush with death and a miraculous recovery. It’s a testament to two people who just don’t give up.

Which is why I find myself, once again, nursing this sad, little orange tree back to health!

It was planted in Shelby’s honor years ago. It succumbed to frost in the first winter; came home with me for a year to be resuscitated; was coddled with a special cover in winter #2 to no avail; was reborn again; was replanted in another, more protected area; and was set back again in a late February surprise frost! I swear it has barely grown in all these years. We have lots of apple, pear, and almond trees – but citrus trees are not found in the rescue’s open country for good reason. Still, I am determined that it will live and someday thrive. A tribute to two people who taught me a lot about patience and second chances – and their love for a very special dog.

Follow Up Friday: Tag – Now Max

I did not recognize him – this gorgeous hunk of dog. But he seemed to know me. And then – the head tilt.

The telltale sign of a once ruptured ear membrane – and those eyes. It was Tag. Now Max. One of the Korea dogs that came to us two years ago in March.

Rescued from a dog meat market by the Humane Society International, and brought to us with three others by the San Francisco SPCA. While most of the dogs that had been rescued were rehabilitated and adopted, these four were shut down and terrified – refusing to leave the safety of their SPCA kennels for over a month. I wrote about them here.

Tag was the worst of them. Suffering from the ear injury, and hugging the ground for dear life.

We gave them a small, dedicated team to work with them. Gently coaxing them onto the first grass they had ever known and hand washing the caked on filth from their bodies.

It took weeks of work to help them find their courage and come out of their shells a little. We had begun the job. Their adopting families would complete it with kindness, patience and love.

I was not alone in not recognizing Max immediately – so changed is he. But he certainly remembered these two.

Lori and Tatia were part of his team in those first days with us – delivering reassurance and care.

Max is a changed dog in many wonderful ways – and in others, he is still Tag.

Shy at first approach. And those eyes…what horrors have they seen?

But now, they quickly shift from timidity to joy. And the shyness melts to bliss.

Max needs people now. He has found his way home.

Princess Gracie

My name is Gracie. I am the grande dame of the E. & D. household. Technically, I am the middle dog. I arrived last January. Molly was here first. Been her since she was a young pup. She had pups herself before E. found her. I guess that’s why she never entirely grew up.

While I may not have the seniority of tenure – I certainly do of age. At 14, I am top dog – even among the humans – if you count dog years.

I used to be a Princess. That’s what they called me. And that’s how they treated me. I do believe I am royalty. My people had to give me up, though they loved me very much. I got adopted – because I’m so adorable. Then my new human died. I went to live with his brother, but he had to go to a new home for seniors, which meant I had to find one, too. So I came back to Homeward Bound.

That’s when I met E. She has a thing for girls of a certain age (Molly excepted). There was Goldie aka Andi, and Bailey, and Daisy, and Bunny before me. And somewhere in the middle, there was Molly. I don’t know what spell she cast over E. to get her to believe she was one of us sugar-faces. She sure wasn’t at the time. And let me tell you, even though she is ten now, she still wreaks havoc all over the place.

I guess that’s why E. brought Lexie home. ‘Cause she’s a runner. She runs like a crazy, undignified girl with Molly.


She runs, period. That’s why she got herself surrendered at the age of 10. She just would not stay put. Lexie has been a bit of a challenge for E., let me tell you. And they are both a pain in the-you-know-what for me.


I’ve lived a rich long life. I’ve shared my love with a lot of humans. And I love life as much as anyone.

But certain things don’t work the same way when you turn 14. Like my back legs, for one.

And these girls just won’t quit!


I think I’m entitled to a little peace and quiet, don’t you?

Maybe I’ll leave the front door open and see how far Lexi and Molly will really run! Did I say that out loud? Oops.

Raining German Shepherd Dogs

Winter finally arrived – in March. It has been raining buckets of water, hail, mud –

and lately – German Shepherd Dogs.

The AKC does dogs no good service by listing them as among the favorite breeds. When Goldens hit the top of the chart, a wave of abandoned and surrendered golden dogs followed. German Shepherd Dogs have been making their way up the list and now rival Labrador Retrievers for the top spot. So guess what? The shelters and “found” pages are full of them.

And, increasingly, so are the fields near Homeward Bound. We have found them wandering loose dumped on the levies – and even staked outside our doors.

Kathryn’s training classes are filling up with them. That’s good. They are getting the training and socialization they need.

My husband’s co-worker found this one wandering the streets.

At less than a year old, he’s still a puppy. Apparently tied up somewhere, he had chewed through the lead that was still tightly wrapped around his neck. Her son – a fan of Superman – named him Clark.

She couldn’t keep him, but she wasn’t about to take him to a shelter, either. So she held him safe until the connection was made to Homeward Bound. We’ll work with our German Shepherd rescue friends to get him to a good home.

The Mulberry trees in our garden are strong, fast-growing, and blanket us in merciful shade on hot summer days.

But their roots invade our beds, their berries leave stains everywhere and give the doggies purple poo, and they require constant pruning to stay tidy (which they do not receive).

German Shepherds are smart, loyal, and very capable working dogs. Like our Mulberry trees, they have characteristics that make them sought after. They are also adorable fluff balls as puppies. But they are not for everyone.

Highly sensitive, they want to be with and protect their person – sometimes to a fault.

This is Addy. She’s not at all sure about me.

But she courageously put herself between her Dad and two loose, attacking dogs.

German Shepherds need continual training and socialization to humans and other dogs. They are energetic and require mental and physical activity or they will act out in boredom and frustration. They shed pillows on a daily basis. And they do everything with intensity – be it play or prey.

German Shepherds are beautiful, intelligent, devoted dogs – for the right person.
Choose the right tree for your garden.
Choose the right dog for your life.

Nash’s Big Day

Nash, the furless wonder, arrived almost two years ago. At the age of eight, he had been left in a local shelter. He was listed as a Black Labrador, but he looked more like an exotic hairless dog – except for the smell. He was suffering from Malassezia pachydermatis – a yeast found on the skin and ears of dogs that can get out of control leading to greasiness, loss of hair, and “malodorous discharge from legions” – in other words, stink. He had a bacteria growing in his ears that is resistant to antibiotics. It makes his ears hurt. And for good measure, his body was covered in small benign masses that hung like black icicles.

He’s the kind of hot mess that many rescues won’t take on. But Homeward Bound did.
He’s an awesome dog. A beloved dog.

A dog who never demanded much:
throw the ball,
give me a cookie.
make me a comfy bed.

It took a long time to find the right combination of food, medications, and baths to finally grow some hair back – and most importantly, get out the rank smell that kept him from going home.

He put up with his twice-weekly baths, the t-shirts and sunscreen we made him wear in the summer to protect his skin, and the sweaters in winter to keep him warm. He endured the periodic removal of those recurring masses. He moved back and forth between our Sanctuary house and the kennel – depending on where he would get more time, attention, and love. And he saw countless dogs go home and never asked “where’s mine?” He was grateful for all he received.

We all wanted so desperately for him to find his forever home. But when it was finally his turn – it was hard to say ‘goodbye.’ Our dogs get out a minimum of three times a day – usually four. But Saturday, Nash was out all day with a long line of volunteers who had to get their final hugs and play in before his big day: Sunday.

His people arrived early. Anxious they were. Awakened from his after-breakfast nap, Nash was not quite sure what to make of this photo-op.

Or maybe, it was just that we needed to remind them of his sensitive ears.

But a trip to the big park and a lesson in “chuck it” let him know that this was not your ordinary day.



And the soft bed with extra cushions in the back of a car confirmed it.

Nash has his own people. People with balls!

He will be in the best of hands. People we know and trust. People who have a proven heart for rescue.

Congratulations – and happy life to Nash – our extra special friend. We will miss you, boy.

Follow Up Friday: Just Add Love

Taylor was the eighth dog of 2018. You may remember his arrival. At three years of age, this Golden Retriever weighed just 40.8 pounds. He was emaciated and scared, but he instantly clung to our people.

Within minutes a tiny grin appeared. That was his true heart shining through.

There was nothing medically wrong with Taylor. Why he was so thin is still a mystery to us. We know he was kept in a kennel during the day – which we understand was long. But the surrendering reason was that he had killed a chicken. Perhaps he was hungry.

The line on the surrender form says: What would be the ideal home for this dog? The answer: “Someone that will love him.” Maybe that was a clue to his past – or perhaps, just a genuine wish for his future. Either way, it was fulfilled in the form of one of our volunteers. Taylor had seen enough of a kennel, and it wouldn’t be the best place for an obviously nervous dog that desperately needed to gain weight. So he went home with Jessica as a foster. As if.

A month later, he has gained ten pounds and is well on his way to full health. All he needed was love.

Most importantly, that tiny hint of a grin has turned into a full-blown smile.


Taylor is now Roo – named for the adorable, bouncy, baby kangaroo featured in Winnie the Pooh.

He’s goofy and playful like a puppy instead of a three-year-old.


From the moment Jessica and Taylor met, he was destined to be a foster failure. Taylor has indeed found “someone that will love him” – forever.

“As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen.” – A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

Follow-Up Friday: Journey Now Charli

My Yogi had a play date recently with our former foster and his protégé, Journey. Her name is now Charli – and it suits her, but I have a hard time re-training myself. She is forever Journey to me.

She has grown, but not too much.
She is loved (that can never be too much).
But in one way, she has returned to her old self.

It seems that our Journey Charli has fallen back into her old habits: greeting her friends with tugs and pinches and take-downs.

We spent a good amount of time working that out of her, and I thought that her much larger visiting canine cousin would keep her in line.

But it seems that even he has given up delivering the kind of correction that Charli needs.

I suggested that she come back to class with her mom, and I hope she does. Her mom is completely smitten with Charli – I’m so glad for that. But her last dog was extremely reactive and she desperately wants to have a dog that can play with other pups. I could tell that she was a little embarrassed by Charli’s behavior. Not that Yogi is any angel. Set loose in the house, he immediately jumped up and helped himself to the human treats on the counter! Way to humiliate your mom, boy!

In school, Charli and her mom would be surrounded by people who know all about her play style and how to administer a time out when needed. Mom would get reassurance, as well. Everyone in class has been through something that made them shrink at some point.

What Charli needs is practice with dogs that are happy to issue corrections in a safe environment – and consistency until a more socially-acceptable play style truly becomes second nature to her.


I hope to see them in school. Charli has shown us that she has it in her.

“Believing takes practice.” ~ Madeleine L’Engle

Follow Up Friday

Do you remember this ridiculous girl from a previous post?

Shelby is only one. She was raised from a puppy in a family with other human puppies. When their third was expected, it just became too much.

She didn’t get the attention or training or time that they knew she needed and deserved. So they asked us to help her find the right home. She found that home recently, with this gentleman whose smile says it all –

except his words say more:

“Tomorrow will be the one week anniversary of me adopting this beautiful one-year-old lab girl named Shelby. It’s been one hell of a week and I must say I am extremely happy I did this- she is so amazing and smart. She has learned so much this last week and she won’t stop following me. I’m so damn proud to be a dog owner and I can’t wait to make her life even more amazing than it is now. Welcome to my life Shelby…I’m honored to be given the chance to make you the happiest dog in the world.”

And that is what makes our world go round. Happy life, Shelby!