dog rescue – Page 8 – Gardens For Goldens

Wordless Wednesday: Grizzley’s Going Home Day

A Poppy Blooms

Iceland poppies are a cool season favorite – but they are not the only poppies blooming in our garden.

Poppy is a tiny seven-month-old Golden girl. She was the timid but loved dog of a young man who went off to college. Unfortunately, she spent most of her most impressionable first year puppy months outdoors with her two canine siblings. With him gone, and his mother coping with the remaining house full of kids, Poppy had little human time. The mother decided that placing them up for adoption would be in the best long-term interest of the dogs. She turned to Homeward Bound. When Poppy lost her human, and then her two siblings were adopted, Poppy’s fragile world collapsed – and with it, what remained of her confidence.

Terrified of her new surroundings, and separated from her pack, she worried away her calories and hid from humans.

To help win her trust, we gave her frequent play time with other dogs. She was included in our weekly puppy class and even had a play date with my Yogi and Jackson. Jody, our president, thought that Yogi could bring Poppy out of her shell. Instead, he was instantly smitten and chased her all over the yard with dishonorable intentions!

Not to worry; Poppy can hold her own.

And while they arranged a truce, Yogi’s keen interest was clearly not reciprocated.

Thankfully, a newcomer – Max – was a perfect companion. We shamelessly used him as bait to get her to go on walks and interact. The progress was slow.

For several weeks, a woman and her beautiful Bernese Mountain Dog, Trinity, had been visiting in hopes of adopting. Some people come wanting to find a perfect dog. She, on the other hand, wanted a perfect project; someone who needed her as much as she needed them.

I watched as she tried to coax Poppy out on a walk. When Poppy hugged the ground, the woman just sat and waited.

I don’t know what she was whispering, but ten minutes later, Poppy was in her lap. The tail was still tucked – but there is no denying the smile on that face.

With Trinity providing reassurance that that a canine friend was nearby,

Poppy was up and walking. And then, the walk turned into a ride. A ride home.

We can’t wait to see the transformation that is sure to follow. I’m betting that by the time the Iceland Poppies are fading – a brand new Poppy will have bloomed.

Finally Fall

The rain came – and with it fall. Finally, fall.

Signaled by merry frogs,

and colored by asters,

sage,

and Maria’s festive decorations.

We caught the tail end of the horrible storm wrecking havoc in the Pacific Northwest. The best part. Even the poppies are reborn with cooler weather and a fresh drink.

I’ve been hard at work on the creation of a new bed: an extension of our entry way gardens to replace a section of weedy grass and surround Jody’s beautiful metal tree – adorned with the dog tags of those who have come this way on their journeys home.

What is now:

What will be:

In the wind and rain, we even managed a few adoptions – including Sara – now renamed Breezy, and aptly so! She got lost – and no one found her. That won’t happen again.

I also had a visit from the one who got away – actually, the one that my Jackson passed up in favor of his new brother Yogi: Faith.

We have learned that her Megaesophagus (her inability to eat normally, which I wrote about here) is the result of a larger issue: Centronuclear Myopathy (CNM) – an inherited disease in Labrador Retrievers which causes loss of muscle tone and control, exercise intolerance, and an awkward gait. It generally appears between two and five months. We noticed it in Faith and her sister as they approached six months on walks – and then at play. Their legs began to shake and then simply gave way. With a rest, they are soon back at it. But their bodies won’t develop the muscle tone of a typical dog – thus her very elongated look and goofy movements.

It has been prevalent since the 1970’s – and frustratingly, is 100% preventable by simply testing the breeding parents to determine if they carry the gene. As usual, education is the key – so spread the word. Thankfully, she and her sister have the best care with Cassandra, the world’s best mom.

Fall is magnificent – too long in coming,

and too short in staying.

Maybe that is what makes it my favorite season.

Wordless Wednesday: Rosie’s Going Home Day

Magical

I took a little breather last week for a girls’ weekend in Sedona, Arizona.

It is beautiful country – magical, really.

Its towering sandstone formations glow red and orange against breathtaking sunrises and sunsets.

At night, the stars fill the blackened sky.

But gardening in that dark red, desert clay? While I think I’ll pass on that challenge, what blooms from the desert appears even more beautiful for the hardships it has triumphed over –

not unlike one of our newest arrivals, twelve-year-old Jake.

When I saw the blackened skin stripe on his back, I admit – I feared the worst. But it is actually all that remains of a horrible skin condition that stripped all the fur from his body.

I’ll spare you the “before” photos, but thank the Wine Country Animal Lovers and the Calistoga Vet Clinic for the miracle they performed.

Jake is with us now, for as many sunrises and sunsets as we are blessed with. The neglect that caused this condition, his worn down teeth, and his lumps and bumps is over. His new soft coat and his sweet disposition are appreciated all the more for what he has overcome. He’s magical, really.

Sometimes We Cry

“I have never been at a point in life doing that which has me so fulfilled, yet so shattered at the same time.” ~ A note received from a fellow volunteer upon the loss of a dog

To My Fellow Rescuers:

This week has been a tough one at the rescue, full of unexpected loss. Some were the beloved companions of our fellow volunteers. Those, we understand, grieve, and celebrate for the time we had together.

Others, sent to us too late, were with us for too short a time. We did not even have a chance to know them. We grieve their loss equally – but we cannot understand.

Because we take dogs regardless of their age or health, we are increasingly sent very sick and frail dogs pulled from shelters by rescue organizations and then transferred to us with scant – or inaccurate – information.

Armchair rescuers, whose only effort is social media, feel good that these poor pups were “freed.” The stats of the shelter and other rescue organization look better for not having euthanized an animal.

Don’t get me wrong: there should be a special place in hell for people who leave their devoted, but aged and sick companions in a shelter to die. But a note to my fellow rescuers: putting a dog that is obviously in its final days through a one or two day journey “to safety” is not the humane thing for the dog. And it takes a human toll on the volunteers on the other end who are helpless to do anything but to let the dog go peacefully – if we even get that chance. We may only have known the dog for hours or days, but we still carry the weight of that loss.

We help hundreds of dogs on their journeys home each year. There are countless canine lives saved and human lives touched. There are miracles, and, along the way, there are inevitable losses – and yes, even rare failures. We’re strong, but we’re not Teflon. Our hearts break, too. So please, fellow rescuers, act with your heads as well as your hearts – for the dogs’ sake if not for ours.

Sometimes we lose; sometimes we fail; sometimes we cry – and that is the price of trying.

Sometimes we know, sometimes we don’t
Sometimes we give, sometimes we won’t
Sometimes we’re strong, sometimes we’re wrong
Sometimes we cry

Sometimes it’s bad when the going gets tough
When we look in the mirror and we want to give up
Sometimes we don’t even think we’ll try
Sometimes we cry

Well we’re gonna have to sit down and think it right through
If we’re only human what more can we do

Sometimes we cry. ~ Van Morrison

Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, mirror on the wall…

Who’s the fairest of them all?

If these two bear a remarkable resemblance, it’s not a coincidence. I wrote about our foster, Yona, last week.

He’s soon to be a foster-failure. Having earned our Jackson’s full endorsement,

he will become an official member of our family on Tuesday, with a new name: Yogi.

The stunning beauty who looks so much like him is his sister, Lottie.

They went to separate families as puppies but came back to the breeder at roughly the same time for the same offense: cute puppy grows into adult, rambunctious, dog.

Lottie, like Yogi, has separation anxiety – although her case seems to be a bit more severe. To help her through it, she’ll have two very experienced dog people, one of whom is home most of the time, and two canine companions, Beau and Milo.

She’ll be living in Lake Tahoe with plenty of activities to wear her out. And what they say is true: a tired dog is a good dog!

We’re looking forward to mini reunions and future play dates at the lake or in the snow. Happy life, Lottie! You’re in very good hands now.

Wordless Wednesday: Joey (The Lion)

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?

https://vimeo.com/181402681

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

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.