Foster puppies – Gardens For Goldens

Contributing to the Delinquency of Minors

Our dogs are experts when it comes to fostering puppies. They welcome them with open paws and are happy to show them the ropes. Our fosters learn lots of helpful things by following their example like potty training; crate training; how to sit, wait, and come; how to share; and most importantly – how to sleep through the night! But there are a few tricks our boys might keep to themselves.

Jackson is the OG. At nearly 15, he quietly administers his private lessons of “don’t mess with the old dog.” There are no growls or snarls involved. He just stares at them, and they get the message. All our foster puppies adore him but know better than to mess with him. Good lesson…well delivered.

Yogi is now eight…I can’t believe it. For many years, he was the foster puppy playmate and self-appointed supervisor. He is very patient and extremely tolerant to a point, issuing kind but firm corrections when needed. He is the first to comfort sick or recovering pups and they all look up to him.

All good…except Yogi is a world-class counter surfer. And puppy see; puppy do. Pretty much any puppy that can reach counters has to unlearn this when they go home. With apologies to their adopters.

Skye – now three – has taken over as the primary puppy playmate. He’s happy to meet everyone and immediately engages the new arrivals in play. It’s great for their socialization and confidence, but Skye sometimes regrets the monsters he unleashes. Skye seriously miscalculates by forgetting three things: 1) puppies have dagger teeth; 2) puppies grow bigger and stronger; and 3) puppies have four times his stamina.

While Yogi is bigger and better able to correct with authority – the puppies just won’t take Skye seriously. They figure turnaround is fair play and he is their play toy. Our four- to five-month-olds are almost as big as Skye who comes screaming for mom when the roughhousing gets too ruff!

Every single puppy in our home learns to get on the furniture. That’s my fault and I proudly own it. These kids have been bounced around. They need comfort, security, and love. Yes…I too contribute to the delinquency of our minors.

Yesterday was our Milo’s going home day. This giant puppy arrived at 15 weeks with ear infections and double entropion – a condition that causes the eyelids to grow inward causing the eyelashes to poke the eye. He goes home following surgery with his eyes now wide open and a clean bill of health

– FINALLY (hopefully) potty trained and ready for adventures.

Of course, on my way home from Milo’s adoption, I got the call that another puppy needed our home for a bit. I turned around and picked him up. Yes…he’s already on the couch. That’s just how we roll around here.

Look Up

My preference for a packed garden has led to some thuggery.

I spent the day cutting back prized but overgrown California fuschias, cerinthe major (honeywort), and even California poppies to allow the verbascum, sea holly, and blazing star see the light of day.

It’s a happy garden that grows so vigorously that it needs to be edited in May!

Sometimes, gardeners get tunnel vision; all we see are the weeds and work.
The same with rescue; the sad stories and hard days can overwhelm.

To be sure, the usual culprits are there in the garden: Bermuda grass and wild morning glory in particular.
But I say ‘look up.’

In rescue, you learn that you cannot dwell on the obstacles and setbacks. You have to look forward to the good that can be done. While our hearts still ache for the loss of our little Rose to Parvo, we have been celebrating the recovery of Lilac. She stayed with us for a bit to ensure that she would go home strong and healthy –

and so she could make up some lost socialization time during her period of isolation.

Post-darkness, she is a gift of sunlight and happiness.

Look up dear gardener – at the magnificent roses, the tall Verbena that towers, and the Daylilies in bloom.

Look up to the brilliant Yarrow, Matijila poppies, and Jupiter’s Beard.

Look forward to the Delta sunflowers, the Dahilias, Agastache, Penstemon, Bee Balm, Rudbeckia, Zinnias, and Salvias. They will be here before you know it.

The weeds, like troubles, will always be there. But it is the good and beauty that deserves our focus.

Happy life, sweet girl.

In My Dream

In my dream, I hear the sounds of thunder. Growling, gnarling, teeth gnashing in a battle to ensure each has their own. Looting and hoarding. Sounds of terror and squeals of alarm. Intimidation and threats. Bodies slammed to the ground.

Awakened. The sounds continue; the smell is unbearable.
Is this our end?
No. It is puppies at play!

Ferocious cubs. Testing out their tiny voices and might on the early path to doghood.

Four Great Pyrenees puppies to be exact.

They invaded our home when their devoted mom had finally had enough of them. When she packed their bags, they were cute little fluff balls. Now they are growing like little monsters – consuming their enclosure – desperate to get out and play.

This is Adele’s litter.

Born in a field. Found by a good Samaritan. Frighteningly, taken to a shelter where the threats that lurk are as great as the elements and predators: diseases.

We whisked them away.

Jody, our leader, kept mama and her babies isolated and closely guarded for their first fragile weeks – protected against dogs and humans with their germy cargo. Life-saving protections.

They thrived.

They exceeded mom’s patience.

And they pushed the cuteness scale off the charts – along with their weights.

They are endlessly poopy, smelly, bundles of fur – so fat, they waddle and are easily tipped by the big dogs.

They are all being treated for icky poo…leaving a trail of sticky footprints wherever they wander…and a mountain of laundry.

Chaos reigns in our home.

My husband loves them dearly but has made clear: four puppies with liquid poo – too much for future reference! (As if!)

Soon, they will be well and ready to go home – and it will be quiet again.

For now, they are a welcome if exhausting diversion from the days’ news and a reminder of all that is still sweet, joyful, and filled with hilarity and tomorrow’s hopes.

And we could all use a little of that right now.

The Rules of Engagement

Most of our foster puppies promise to remember us always and then quickly forget when they find their forever homes. How do I know? Many come back for class or reunions. I may get a passing hello, but they are much more interested in playtime with the dogs than visiting with me.

An exception: Baby Sara – now named Jessie. You may recall from a past post, Jessie is the offspring of a Golden mom and a dad of many colors.

She was born and reared feral in a field until a woman living nearby could win mom’s trust. Since Jessie would not leave mom’s side, she had to choice but to be caught too – but unhappily so.

Our volunteers worked hard to socialize her enough for her to come home with us where my Yogi and Jackson completed the job.

She was adopted by a wonderful family and their Lab, Harper. Jessie helped to fill an empty spot in all of their hearts after the loss of their other dog.

Harper is very protective of her new sister. So much so, that if they are in class together, Harper spends all of her time keeping the other dogs away from Jessie. It was not a good example for Jessie, and was not providing the socialization she needed, so Jessie takes her classes solo now. When she spots me…she comes running into my arms and will not settle into class until our greeting is completed with belly rubs and kisses.

She is a little dog who thinks she is a big dog – until she gets rolled a couple of times in play and then she retreats to a corner. So she was delighted to make a new friend this weekend at school: Gracie.