Yona
Yona. An unusual name for a dog. In Hebrew, it means “dove.”
Returned to a rural breeder with the familiar story: cute puppy becomes one-year-old dog with one-year-old dog energy and enthusiasm. The breeder was responsible and ensured that any of her pups would come back to her, if necessary. But her life had changed in unexpected ways and Yona was more than she could handle.
He is insecure and hugs a leg on walks – all 70 beefy pounds of him – until a squirrel comes along and all hell breaks loose. Unaccustomed to car, bikes, and strangers, he is anxious and on alert. He bears scars and scabs on his neck, most likely from the kind of shock collar used for electronic fences in the country. A note in his file says that he has separation anxiety. He is never more than a few feet away – clearly starved for attention.
Having given the signal that our Jackson needed company after the loss of our Bella, and that my husband and I, too, could be ready for Jackson’s sake – the call quickly followed. Bring Jackson to meet Yona.
At first blush, the age difference seemed too great; his size – too large. But Yona, the dove, surprised me. Jackson and Yona played for nearly two hours in the large park at Homeward Bound, with our eight-year-old boy more than holding his own.
So I loaded them in the car for a foster try-out. Back at the house, they crashed together.
And Yona – the country, outside dog, quickly took to the comforts of home.
Play followed in the evening. They slept – apart at first, and then together on the bed (leaving little room for humans!). And in the morning – wrestle mania exploded throughout the house. Why does boy dog play involve so much gnashing of teeth and humping?
He is just a giant puppy, really. After a couple of days, his surprisingly good house manners are showing truer colors. He hops onto the window sill to see out, he puts his paws on the counter, he brings a pillow to me as if to say: “I could. I really could!”
Testing the separation anxiety, the boys were left for first five minutes, then ten, thirty, and an hour. No issues. But when I took Jackson for a walk and left Yona behind – the crying began. We’ll keep testing and working on it, ensuring that he is well worn out first, and making no big deal of comings and goings.
Meanwhile, they are testing each others’ boundaries – and Jackson definitely knows how to draw the line. But with an advantage of nearly seven years and twenty plus pounds on our boy, we just want to be sure that Yona doesn’t squish or thoroughly exhaust Jackson. Three days in, Jackson is definitely feeling his age.
It’s not just how dogs play that makes a good match – it’s how they settle, as well.
I was feeling pretty guilty bringing such a young and handsome pup home for a tryout. By looks alone, he is the type of dog that many adopters hope for. The puppy stuff is normal. But he definitely needs training and patience to help him become a more confident boy and a far better walker. And just maybe, a more mature dog could help to show him the way.
Wordless Wednesday: Madison
When the light is just right
The Boys: Together Forever
I absolutely love these boys. But then, so do all of the volunteers at Homeward Bound.
They are the quintessential Goldens – loveable, huggable, and Velcro.
I wrote about Max and Felix a couple of weeks ago. Their humans tragically perished together. It’s hard enough for us to suffer the loss of our dog companions. Imagine how confused and lost ten-year-old dogs feel to lose their humans.
Rumor had it that there was an adopter on the horizon. When that fell through, I forced my husband to bring our Jackson out to see if they might be a foster match (not so secretly hoping we would be foster failures). Jackson has been sorely missing his canine sister, Bella. At the very least, I hoped we could provide Max and Felix with a place to wait in comfort, while providing some companionship for Jackson.
Our boy gets along with everyone, so it was not surprising that there were no issues. But there were no sparks, either. No connection. If anything, Jackson was a little nervous around Max while hanging a little closer by Felix. Not quite willing to give it up, I reintroduced them and supplied photo proof that they could at least eventually settle down together.
My husband relented and agreed to foster them, but the concession came too late. Or maybe not. Had they been home with us, they would not have been seen by a young couple who came in that same morning looking for a dog. No particular dog. No particular gender. Young or old. Golden or mix. It didn’t matter. Just a good dog. They found not one – but two. Once they laid eyes on Max and Felix, it was a done deal.
And I wasn’t even around to get the photo! With thanks to my friend and fellow blogger, Rob of “Rob & Dog”, I present Max and Felix’s going home photos!
What good people to open their hearts and home to two very bonded brothers whose lives had been turned upside down.
My husband was probably correct in believing that Max and Felix would not be Jackson’s forever dogs. We know what a true connection looks like for him when we see it. It begins with a play bow and doesn’t end until both are exhausted.
We’ll find it. Eventually.
As for Max and Felix – tragedy brought them to us. But we send them home – together and forever – as promised, with all our love.
Happy (long) lives, boys. We are all going to miss you.
Wordless Wednesday: Damselfly
White
White is so cooling in a garden, especially on very hot summer days.
White offers a place for the eyes to rest – a break from all the hot yellows, oranges and reds of an August garden.
White dogs are just as cool in the garden –
or elsewhere.
The come in all shapes and sizes,
offering up their love,
affection,
or just a helping hand.
One white dog had an especially sweet “going home” this weekend – turning her seventh birthday into her first “gotcha day.”
Earned after years of birthing puppies, and currently recovering from double knee surgery,
Olivia has found her forever home.
White. A color without hue…
but plenty of heart.
Hanging On
Busy Bee
A Hope
“may my faith always be
at the end of the day
like a hummingbird…returning
to its favorite flower.”
― Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
Wisteria
Change Comes Bearing Gifts
As Ina and I surveyed the garden this week, we both remarked on its changed appearance. Where there was light, shadows now creep.
Where there was once deep earth, roots have taken over. Both are the result of competition from maturing trees that grace us with their shade – but have changed the face and planting pockets of what was once our sun-soaked garden.
Things get rearranged; plants are re-homed – not thrown away. It is part of the life of the garden and to be expected. A gardener adapts to whatever mother nature throws her way with a different – but no less a beautiful – outcome.
“If nothing ever changed, there’d be no butterflies.” ~Author Unknown
Life has thrown a few curveballs to the dogs in our care, as well.
Lost,
orphaned,
and left behind. Most are here with us through no fault of their own, just waiting for the right someone to reimagine a life with them in it.
Nearly identical brothers Max and Felix could not be bigger loves.
Their human parents were tragically lost together. Now these adorable lugs are looking for a forever home. Their only demand: endless belly rubs.
Diesel was expertly trained and well-loved but lost his home when his humans moved to a new country.
Today, he is the new love of another family who counts him among their many blessings.
“Change always comes bearing gifts.” ~ Price Pritchett
The trees in the garden have gifted us with cooling shade for the doggies
and a place for other less sun-thirsty plants.
My hope is that, out of tragedy, Max and Felix will soon be gifted with the comfort and love of ‘home.’
Gardens For Goldens 