Dogs – Page 2 – Gardens For Goldens

Holding On To The Things You Love

Somewhere between work, volunteering, and changes to how WordPress manages the Reader and sharing, I ran out of blogging steam. Or maybe just words.

Fresh inspiration abounds, but not everyone wants to read the stories I might share. The self-imposed push for happy stories feels less authentic and gradually, probably less relevant to readers, as well. Blogs are time-consuming beasts, and when you feel like no one is listening, it is easy to become discouraged.

Along the way, I also absorbed the duty of dog photography for the rescue. Not the storytelling kind; photos for inclusion in their bios to help them on their way home. It’s a joy that can start to feel like a grind, turning something I love doing into something that feels more like work. But I was reminded this week of why I started this blog in the first place, and the importance of documenting the dogs’ faces and stories – regardless of who might be visiting.

A friend had taken home a dog five years ago. Bentley developed seizures and cancer and was lost to her too soon. The only photo she had of him was taken on the day they said goodbye.

This was before we photographed every single dog at the rescue. Many go home before they ever make the website where photos are required. Now, a photo accompanies each dog’s electronic file. Not the kind of mugshots you get at a shelter. A portrait. Or the best portrait possible.

There was nothing of Bentley in our archives but I found him easily in my blog. Then I went back to my original photo files and was able to provide my friend with more captures from a much happier time. It was the way she wanted to remember him.

I began this blog to document the restoration of a rescued garden and the rescued dogs who travel through it. The garden is grown,

but the dogs keep coming. Each face and story is unique and worth knowing.

This blog is my way of saying: You were here. You were loved. And you were helped on your journey to the best of our ability. Most importantly, you are remembered. Even on weeks when I cannot find words.

In keeping with this thought, I bring you Napoleon.

He went home last fall as a permanent foster dog. That means that Homeward Bound will ensure his medical care for life. Important, because he has inoperable masses in bad places. As far as he and his people are concerned, he is adopted. It is amazing what their TLC has done giving him fresh life always marked by a goofy smile.

And while he still looks amazing, I saw changes in him this weekend when he visited. So I thought I should capture him and place a current photo here where he can always be found and remembered.

“Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you never want to lose.” ~ From the television show, The Wonder Years

And that is all the motivation I need.

All In A Day

All in a day…

A motley duo transformed and made as beautiful on the outside as they are within.

A one year old boy is surrendered, and then reclaimed because his people could not be without him with the understanding that a dog is a member or the family and a promise is a promise. Kids (human or canine) take time to grow up. Patience, perseverance and consistency are the keys. You get out what you put in.

Three Golden girls were spared a life of puppy-making and will, instead, enjoy a life of love and play.

A good Samaritan went out of his way (and wallet) to convince a neglectful and abusive owners to sell him the dog they left chained in the yard.

Before bringing him to us, he took the unbelievably trusting and forgiving Labby boy to the river and showed him that good people do care.

Three grateful Goldens saved from the streets (or worse) traveled more than 6,000 miles to begin a new life.

Three masquerading teeny tiny tots made their way to our Golden Retriever rescue (and my foster home)

because our favorite breed is rescued.

And one hundred and twenty roses were pruned and prepped for a new season thanks to the best-ever gardening crew (only a few are captured here).

Countless little miracles – all in a day.
Find your passion and jump in. Even the muddy water is fine.

Out of the fog

The world gets smaller in winter.
As the mist clears, tiny details emerge.

For a dog with seizures, the world can feel very small, indeed.
Scary, uncontrollable moments followed by a fog.
Most humans find them hard to handle.
It is easy to withdraw.
New diets and medications can make a world of difference –
but the most important ingredient is love.

Daisy is a seizure dog. To look at her you would never know.

Her person is drawn to these special dogs and has become quite the mentoring expert to others.

Rocky and Nalah were recently surrendered for their seizures.

We found them people who understand and accept these episodes as merely details of their special souls.

Among the muted greys and browns of winter –

Startling colors emerge.

Out of the fog –
A whole new life appears.

New Beginnings

The first time I saw Spice, she was cowering under her Kuranda dog bed in the tiny space between it and the floor. Her leash was attached, and would remain that way for some time as she was impossibly shy and would bolt when approached.

She was part of a group of dogs surrendered from a breeder. At one year of age, she had no idea what it meant to live inside or with people. All she knew were other dogs and the safety of a single pen. Her evaluation said “frightened; shy; no idea what to do with a toy; has had no socialization to people; best to go to a home with other dogs.”

She made tiny baby steps forward with select human friends going ever so slowly in the hopes that she would learn to trust.

It can happen, but in the kennel environment, it takes much longer.

Lisa is one of team leads. She has a very special way with the dogs; part dog whisperer, part “let’s go!-er.”

Where others coddle, Lisa confidently expects. She sizes up a dog and when she believes it can do more, somehow, it starts believing it too. She was the first to get a collar on our once feral, River.

At one year of age, he had been living along the river’s edge for who knows how long. Finally captured with a Ketchall, the animal control pole, he wanted nothing to do with anything going over his head or around his neck. A collar and leash were his ticket out of the outside enclosure to indoor comfort. Thankfully, he arrived in the late spring when the weather was good.

Lisa earned his trust enough to allow his face to be pet, starting from the nose. When she sat with him to do this, he would close his eyes. One day, during this session, she waited for his eyes to close and just slipped on the collar. He could have backed out as he had done with so many others, but he allowed it. Perhaps it was the fluidness of her gesture or her sheer determination that caught River off guard, but on the collar went and so began his rehabilitation.

So it was no surprise that Lisa packed up our shy girl and brought her home. There, big Golden teddy bear Dakota could guide her

and little Kiki could help her to be brave.

They were joined by Mamacita and Babycakes—two Chihuahuas that were dumped in the fields near the rescue and wormed their way into Lisa’s heart (and car) as pretend fosters

—and Forrest, a very special needs boy.

This unlikely pack was obviously exactly what Spice needed because the next time I saw her – she looked like this.

Inside every winter lies the beginnings of spring just waiting for its right time and opportunity to blossom.

One year later, Spice’s whole life and happiness have changed for the better because someone believed that she was capable of more.

She’s rolling in the new year as a completely different dog.

There is no telling what a fresh start, love and companionship will bring to our rescued dogs in 2019 –

and I can’t wait to see. Here is to a year full of new beginnings.

Wordless Wednesday: Daisy

A Winter Rose

It doesn’t happen often—but often enough to wonder. Dogs that are long-time residents of the rescue—the ones with special behavioral or medical needs who wait for angel adopters—find their way home only to pass unexpectedly just as they have found love. Not that they aren’t loved by us. But there is a difference between being loved and cared for by volunteers and being a chosen special someone and finally being home. It is if—wrapped in that security—that they finally fully relax and let their guard completely down. And in that vulnerability, cancer strikes or hearts fail.

Our hearts go out to their adopters who opened their hearts and homes only to be robbed of precious golden years. And yet, they keep coming back to us to risk it all again. “How lucky that they finally got to experience home,” they—and we say…and believe.

It sometimes happens in reverse. At 10 years of age, Bear survived the Camp Fire and the stress of makeshift accommodations before being surrendered to us.

Without a home, the family had no way to keep him. It wasn’t that his body didn’t show his age: his hind legs were weak and strange lumps and bumps hung off him everywhere. But his demeanor was happy and his old soul was sweet.

One of those lumps concerned our Doc more than the others. Bear took a happy ride to the vet “talking” all the way there as his mom had told us he was wont to do. It’s a German Shepherd thing. Under a gentle, anesthesia-induced sleep, she discovered that that we were too late. The invader had already burst. Bear had given us no clue.

This time, we are the ones feeling robbed. We did not know him long, but you could not love him if you met him.

The first roses of the season are bright and fresh and last and last. But the short-lived last roses of the season—in their frailty—are some of the most beautiful.

Here’s to you, sweet Bear. A winter rose beyond its bloom.

And all of the others we have loved and lost too soon.

Love in a Mist

There are near daily tests for the rescuer woman: her will to heal against theirs to surrender.
Most battles are won, but not all; the rescuer does not always get to be the savior.
The beloved dog who so kindly shared his home, heart, and rescuer mom has gone.

Sometimes, it feels like the universe conspires against us –
When it is simply saying, “I’m calling you home.”
It is not compelled to explain its timing or purpose –
Any more than the flower defends when it sets and seeds.
Like the Love in a Mist – our physical presence appears protected –
shielded –

But, in the end, it is as fleeting as dew.
You soak up the bloom for as long as you are able –
And come to learn that even in its passing – it sows the seeds of more.
More beauty.

More seasons.

More ways to meet – differently – in whispers and shadows and mist – but again.

Carried with us – always.

“If I had a single flower for every time I think of you, I could walk forever in my garden.” ~ Claudia Adrienne Grandi

Cooper at Camp Yogi

Our most recent houseguest was a repeat caller named Cooper. He is one of Daisy’s litter. He stayed with us about a month ago while his people were away – right after his sister, Colleen’s stay until her people were ready to bring her home. This is a photo of the two of them before they found their furever homes.

My husband mocks me for taking the puppy pen down…he thinks it might as well just stay up permanently. He’s probably right. (Cooper at three months.)

Cooper’s people had a family reunion to attend, and since he got along so well during his first visit – and is still young and impressionable – it seemed like the best place for him to hang out for a week or so. His people call it Camp Yogi – named for our three-year-old, puppy-loving Yogi. (Cooper at four months.)

Camp Yogi is full of play, adventure, swimming, and a few lessons as well.

He has his Golden mom’s coloring (and heart) – and his German Shepherd/Dobie dad’s size! Shy and quiet as a puppy, Cooper’s playfulness is growing almost as quickly as his size! At three months: