Homeward Bound Golden Retriever Rescue – Page 8

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.

Wordless Wednesday: Old Bud

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.

Wordless Wednesday: Windows to the Soul

This Time It’s Real

It’s finally spring. This time it’s real. I know because the Tulips told me…

the Anemone told me…

the Grape Hyacinth told me…

and the mud fest told me!

“Nothing in the world is friendlier than a wet dog.”

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.

The Charmed Life of a Garden Cat Named Frida

The north wind that blew in mid-month stayed. Spring is nothing if predictably unpredictable. We went from t-shirts to down jackets and mittens within 24 hours. While the overnight thermometer dropped below freezing for a week, it stayed close enough – thankfully – to have little impact on our opening blueberry and apple blossoms. And now, there is much-needed rain on the horizon. But today, we all soaked up the warm spring sun.

A butterfly (Mourning Cloak?) warming its wings on the stone path and accommodating bunny –

big dogs walking (not available – just visiting)…

Golden dogs lounging (spoken for!)…

And going-home dogs (hurrah for Clooney, Chubbs, and Bear!).

And this?

Not a dog! This is the illusive and rarely seen Frida – the garden cat. I spied her in the field next door alternately basking in the sun, hiding in the mustard weed, and stalking her prey.

We have a few cats at Homeward Bound. Most have to earn their keep as mousers or – like Tory – as our loyal cat-tester. (No cats are harmed in the testing of our dogs.)

But Frida lives a charmed life. After being spayed and vaccinated, she was returned to the garden where she reigns. For the longest time, we only saw fleeting glimpses of her or heard her scurry under the garden shed.

Lately, she has become bolder. Rob and I leave her food and clean water. She has a tiny cat house with a comfy bed in the shed and an igloo outside if she prefers to crouch and watch the world go by. She is a great hunter – which is why I gave up feeding the birds. And she clearly does not want for calories. Recently, she let me get within a few feet of her.

And today, she most definitely saw me stalking her with my camera and decided to pose.

In late afternoon, you might glimpse her circling the garden waiting for all of us to leave. I can just imagine her joy in solitude with only lizards, birds, and tiny mouse meals to contemplate.

Get cozy tonight, Frida girl. The rain will come. But the warm sunshine is sure to follow.

Follow-up Friday: Rudy

No, that’s not a football play…or a six-legged dog!
It’s Rudy. Being Rudy.

Rudy came to us in December at the age of 10 months. His mom had to move back in with her mom, and Rudy – who had been a loved, inside dog – had to become an outside dog. In the winter cold. It was breaking his mom’s heart. She knew he deserved better and she asked us to find it for him.

He was quickly adopted – and then returned. It seems that Rudy – still being a big puppy – needed people around to monitor his puppiness. The other thing that Rudy needed was socialization. He had apparently led a sheltered life with few, if any, dog friends. As a result, he wasn’t sure how to properly greet or play.

Rudy was adopted again – a successful placement with people that are around to make him feel comfortable and keep him out of trouble. Best of all, they decided to bring him to Kathryn’s Golden Rule Training at Homeward Bound.

The truth about training, is that it is really for the people. If they can be taught consistency of effort and approach, the dog is sure to follow. Rudy is a fast learner. It’s not the sit, or wait, or down. It’s the lessons he needs to learn from other dogs. Dogs are – paws down – the best teachers of other dogs.

So when Rudy decided to try to have his way with Tahoe – who, by the way, is no slouch –

Hutch was quietly observing from a distance.

Until he decided: enough!

Rudy is constantly trying to see where he ranks in the social hierarchy. And Hutch and Tahoe are pretty clear: you’re at the bottom, pup!

Together, they are teaching Rudy lessons in boundaries and appropriate play.

And Rudy is taking it in stride.

It’s great to see Rudy getting the time, training, and socialization that his surrendering mom wanted for him. I think she’d be proud.

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.