Sally's farewell photos

Foster dog Mustang Sally has been spayed and is now attending adoption sites in search of a new home. I got some funny and great photos of her toward the end of her stay.

(Star's patented Paw-Smak™ technique. Guaranteed to take out an eyeball!)

Dozer is only too happy that this toy-stealing, ball-chomping, rough-romping gal has moved on. I think Star's a bit depressed after losing her playmate. Even mealtime couldn't get her excited enough to stand up.

Not all foster stories end well

Today I dropped Mustang Sally off for her spay. This is the end of my role as medical foster; she starts looking for a home via the rescue group's adoption program now. I patted her on the head and said "Good luck, kid," and left really quickly, before the tears came.

I was really surprised at how soon it was time to give Sally back. I guess it's because I'm used to the mange puppies, and that single medical issue can take months to resolve. Sally had a small handful of medical issues, but all cleared up in four weeks, and medical foster is no longer necessary.

I'm hopeful that Sally's future will be bright and she will live a long and happy life with a loving family.

That happy ending is not, I learned this week, the case for Titan, a blue heeler that we fostered in 2008.

We were still doing independent foster in 2008, though what that really means is that acquaintances dumped stray and unwanted dogs on me and my husband, and we had to find new homes for said dogs. Thus we ended up with Titan, a seven-month-old purebred Blue Heeler (aka Australian Cattle Dog). He would be one of the last dogs we fostered independent from a rescue group.

Titan was a lovely little guy with a strong working dog temperament. He had high prey drive, tried to herd us around, and bickered with Dozer on more than one occasion. He was also very smart, very trainable, and enjoyed being around people.

In early 2009, we placed Titan with a family who had another cattle dog and a big yard. I urged the new family to get him some obedience training and give him a job or activity that suited his drive.

This week, I got a call from the dad. Divorce. They're all moving to places that don't allow dogs. Will I take Titan back?

Of course, we prefer that our foster dogs come back to us in the event that things don't work out. So I was fine with taking Titan back and re-homing him, even two years later.

Then the other shoe dropped. The dad said that Titan was aggressive toward strangers. And... Titan had bitten a couple of people. Including a child. The bites had occurred over a period of time, and Titan's owners had evidently done nothing, such as calling a trainer or behaviorist, to address the problem.

Well, when a dog develops a bite record, re-homing is no longer an option. Liability and public safety are the major considerations. Rescue groups won't take known biters, and people won't adopt them. There's only one realistic outcome for homeless dogs with bite histories: euthanasia.

Could Titan's aggression be managed? Could Titan be a safe dog? Could Titan live a long and happy life without biting another person? Titan's owners didn't have his behavior assessed by a professional, but I suspect that the answer would be yes, Titan could be a safe dog and could live a long life. Aggression can often be treated, managed, and reduced so that known biters can live out their natural lives without biting again.

But such dogs have homes, and their owners care about them. This family was about to make Titan homeless. Homeless dogs do not have such opportunities.

It saddened me greatly to tell the dad that, because of the bite history, aggravated by the fact that they had not sought professional help and diagnosis, I could not take Titan back... and further, that there were no rescue groups in the area that would accept Titan, and that it would be impossible to rehome Titan as things stood.

I explained that if they are definitely going to get rid of Titan, they cannot rehome Titan without disclosing the bite history, and that will make it very unlikely that anyone will take Titan. It's a lawsuit waiting to happen. From a public safety and legal liability perspective, the only option is the local shelter. The family must disclose Titan's bites when they relinquish him at the shelter, and those bites make him unadoptable. Titan will probably be killed at the shelter.

Although it's hard to say what I could have done differently, I feel that I failed Titan by placing him with a family that apparently didn't care enough about him to keep him safe.

There's no moral to this story, only sadness. I'm sorry, Titan.

Video of Star and Mustang Sally

Here's a short video of Mustang Sally playing with Star. As it turns out, Sally really loves to be around other dogs--so she should be very adoptable.

She's very physical when she plays, with lots of mouthing, play-bites, and pawing, so I think she would be best placed in a home with another dog of similar size.



I took this video rather late in the day, and you can see that lazy Star is already exhausted from tumbling around. This is probably the most subdued of their playtimes so far. I'm going to try to remember to record them the next time they both get the crazy zoomies.

Foster Mustang Sally

So in the midst of the insanity that is my life/house at the moment, I decided it's time to foster another dog. Mustang Sally is a cruelty case owner surrender. I like doing medical fosters, and this one's a doozy.

Mustang Sally is available for adoption through Austin Pets Alive!

From what I gather, Sally's previous owner basically neglected her. She is underweight (38 lbs, should be 50 or 60), undersocialized, and unfortunately tested positive for heartworms. Then, she had a litter of puppies (currently being cared for by another momma dog, or so I was told), and developed mastitis, a painful infection of one of her mammary glands. By the time animal control collected her, the mastitis had basically exploded out the side of one of her nipples and was spreading to another. Somewhere along the way, she also developed a pretty significant upper respiratory infection.

Nevertheless, she's a happy, playful youngster who really enjoys a good cuddle. The animal shelter is calling her a "pit mix" but I see a lot more Boxer than anything. In fact, she reminds me a lot of Lucy, an extraordinarily stupid but loving Boxer that lived with us for several years, first as a foster, then as our (ex-)roommate's dog. Lucy passed away a few years ago, but I see her ghost in Sally, right down to the drool that Sally spreads around after drinking, and the bemused stare she gives me while I futilely attempt to teach her some basic obedience.

As you can see in the photos, Sally is wearing an Easy Walk harness. She's a puller! When I picked her up from the shelter, she practically sawed my hand off, lurching around on the cheap nylon leash they supplied. The harness eliminates all the pulling. It's a temporary fix, but genuine leash training will wait until she's healthier and can focus on what I'm asking her to do.

Unfortunately, her respiratory symptoms are potentially contagious, so we have arranged the house so that the dogs are well-separated. She stays in the "foster wing" (the upstairs bathroom and office), with no less than two baby gates at strategic points to keep the dogs out of sight of each other. When I leave the house, Sally goes into a crate that is in the foster room, so there's absolutely no chance of unsupervised interaction.

The separation isn't much fun for Sally, however necessary it may be. The company of other dogs can sometimes help an undersocialized dog feel more comfortable about new situations. At the same time, I'm not sure she and Star will hit it off—they're very similar in appearance, age, and temperament, and I think Star might feel that her spotlight is being usurped by this newcomer. Once Sally is healthy enough to be with other dogs, we will have to proceed very slowly and carefully with introductions. I'm already prepared for the possibility that Sally and Star will need to stay separated. Dogs don't always get along, especially if their temperaments aren't compatible.

Foster kitteh

What have I done??

Approx six-week-old kitten

Yeah, I fell for that little face. Well, Byrd fell for it first.

I was out on the town on Black Friday when I got a text message from Byrd: we have kittens. I called him right then and there. Sometimes it's better to convey one's thoughts directly. Mine were: "WTF do you mean, 'we have kittens'?!?" (My sister and mom, two cat lovers who were in the car with me, squealed in unison.)

The truth was that we had one kitten, and it was hiding in the pipe that went under our driveway, and was unwilling to come out without a fight. Rather than leave it there overnight with the first freeze of the year upon us, I put the live trap at one end of the pipe, and slowly shoved a PVC pipe through the other end. Into the live trap it went, hissing and spitting like a tiny evil demon.

She's significantly tamed down after a bit of food and quiet. And now she's my newest foster.


"Chibi," aka "Tiny" for the U.S. crowd

I gave her a bath on the first day. I was not prepared for the fleas. Do you know what a fire ant mound looks like when you step on it? The fleas swarmed similarly as I rinsed the baby kitten with Dawn. The water ran bloody red. I spent several hours picking off fleas, but she still has tons. (Currently working on securing a better flea treatment.)

My tasks this week are getting her vetted and scheduled for spay. These costs are coming out of my pocket for this kitten because we're doing the foster independent from any rescue group.

Although I prefer to foster for rescue groups, because they cover medical costs, this is not an option for Tiny. The local rescue/foster groups pull directly from kill shelters--they don't take animals from the community. So I cannot "surrender" Tiny to a no-kill group and let them rehome her. I would have to drop Tiny off at the local open-intake (kill) shelter, and hope that a rescue group pulled her or someone adopted her before she was euthed. There's always the chance that Tiny might be killed by the shelter in such a scenario.

So I'm doing the foster, the vetting, the spay, and the rehoming legwork myself this time. Merry Christmas, kitteh. Your vet bills are going to eat up a good chunk of the money I was going to spend on Christmas gifts this year. :P

Oh well. It's a good learning experience for Star, whose only previous experience with cats went like this:

Me: What a nice garden center. Look at all these plants, Star!
Star: Oh yes, what nice plants. I shall smell this big one here. Sniff sniff.
Cat leaps from behind plant and claws Star across the face.
Me: Dear God, the plant is trying to kill us!! No... wait...
Star: WTF WTF WTF WTF!?!? GET IT OFF!!!! AAAIIIEEE!!!
Cat: Nyaaah! Stoopid dog! (runs off)
Star: MY FACE!! I will DESTROY YOU!!! ...Where'd it go?
Me: Too late. You got whupped by a cat. (mops up cat-inflicted wounds)

Star hasn't been too keen on cats since the day her face got shredded by one. I don't really blame her. But I've been looking for an opportunity to desensitize her to cats in a controlled environment. This is a baby step.

"It's one of those evil THINGS! In MY HOUSE!"

"Gee, you sure have a lot of toys in there."

"When am I going to get that many toys?"

Actually, the toys are on loan from my sister's cat.

Okay, I promised a foster puppy update. I've gotten pics from a few of the adoptive families, and I got to see King Louie on Friday. The pups are a little over four months old now. If they're anything like Louie, they must all be total dolls. Louie was a class act.

Momma Nancy was a Boston Terrier x Beagle. Daddy was a mystery. Puppy Louie looks a bit like a Saint Bernard, Chow, Cocker Spaniel, or Dachshund. He's got thick fur, but his body is long and his legs are short. He's the most adorable, friendly, playful little furball... and surprisingly quiet, considering he was the leader of the Scream Team when he was born. 

King Louie, now King Louis

 

Bowser, now Maverick

Princess Daisy, now Sister

That's all for now... I'm hoping to get more updates when they are six months old!

And they're gone

All the foster puppies went to their new homes yesterday.

I cried a little bit.

Typical day in the nursery

When the two girls conspire, you know there's gonna be trouble.



Big boy Bowser and little Yoshi were play buddies.



Yoshi won every puppy battle. Bowser preferred to roll around.



Princess Peach was the rowdiest of the bunch.



Princess Daisy loved to sneak behind me and bite me on the butt while I wasn't looking, then clamber into my lap with a blinding halo over her furry little head.

For a while, I thought Mario would never get adopted. When prospective owners came to visit, he would fall asleep behind the toilet.

King Louie was the biggest goofball. Here I caught him passed out with his head in the crook of the toilet base. It made him snore incredibly loudly.

After a struggle, I regained my senses and ultimately decided not to adopt Luigi. But I admit, I kept hoping his adoptive family would back out so I could keep him.

So long, little guys. Good luck in your new homes...

I realized as I went through all the puppy photos that I didn't get any pictures of the puppies with Dozer or Star. Not that they really hung out at all.

Dozer thought of the puppies the way a person might think of a pillbug--strange little pests, not worth even a sliver of interest. He usually acted as if they weren't even there, though he did a good job of not stepping on them.

Star was... Star. Weird and silly. She developed a habit of strolling over to the nursery and making gutteral grunts and grumbles through the baby gate, as if holding some sort of conversation with the swarm of puppies. You know those YouTube videos of dogs that say "wow wuff wroo" and people in the background say "Awww! I love you too!!"? Star's conversation was a bit like that, a very human-sounding babble.

And so, life resumes its "normal" pace. I'm about to go back to work full-time, on top of the freelance job I'm working. And I'm still taking economics and statistics classes too.

Don't even get me started on the massive list of extracurricular items I want to tackle by year end.

In other news... new mailbox, completed front wall, and functional wall lights! Yeah! One more project crossed off the list.



The folks across the street had their mailbox stoned in at the same time, so we match.



Foster puppies, week six

WARNING: The puppies in these photos are disturbingly adorable. Be sure to view them in a well-lit room, and stay back from the screen. I do not assume liability for any side effects you may experience from viewing these photos, including an overwhelming urge to squeeze a puppy.

Here are the pups' glamour shots at six weeks old. These are going on the web--the pre-adopt process begins this week. (Tell your Austin-area friends!)

Nancy, the momma dog

King Louie

Mario

Princess Peach

Princess Daisy

Bowser

Yoshi

Luigi

Well, I admit, I haven't submitted Luigi's adoption info or photos yet. I'm struggling with an inner voice that tells me he's my puppy. It tells me to write a really awful bio so that no one would even consider adopting him.

Nancy is officially DONE with these pups. She still has some milk, so they swarm her whenever she comes into their room, but it's not enough to satiate them--and Nancy runs all over the room like she stepped in a fire ant mound, so they don't have much of a chance to latch on.

What this means, for me, is a new cycle of feeding and cleaning up that takes almost all day, every day. I feed them, then I change their newspaper (which, with seven puppies, is completely soiled as soon as they finish eating), then I wipe the floor and change out towels and dishes, then I rotate through them so they each get some solo time in another part of the house or yard. That process takes 2-3 hours. Then I have about an hour to myself while they nap. Then it's feeding time, and the cycle starts anew.

Mega Thanks are owed to:

• My cat-loving sister, who helped me do all kinds of things to the puppies today: bathe, dry, trim nails, take photos, wrangle puppies, and socialize them. Amazingly, she even kept cuddling after Peach pooped on her.
  
• Byrd, who, on his birthday no less, helped me take Nancy and the pups to the medical building for their six-week vaccinations. All seven puppies AND Nancy got car sick--the result was something I can't describe in polite company. The worst part was that they got car sick within the first five minutes of a two-hour-long round trip. And in Texas this time of year, it's too hot to drive with the windows rolled down. What a birthday present.
  
• My dad, who has been faithfully providing me with mounds of desperately needed newspaper. I couldn't do it without the newspaper.
  
• All of you, dear readers, who are undoubtedly calling up your Austin-area friends at this very moment, and telling them to go to Austin Pets Alive to adopt the world's cutest puppies!

Puppies, week four

We're into the middle of week four with the foster puppies, and I finally have some videos. I even added some elevator music. Enjoy!

Here are some highlights from the puppies at three weeks old. At this time, they were living in a large box that a nice person gave to me for free.



Here are the puppies at almost four weeks old. They were being incredibly cute, so I didn't edit the video. Consequently, it's a bit long, but if you really need a puppy fix, here you go.



And here are the puppies recently, at four weeks. They have moved out of the box and now have most of the floor in our guest bathroom for running around.

This is probably my favorite video. The puppies are really in their cutest stage right now. Can you guess which one is my favorite? :)



It's a pretty far cry from a month ago, when they were like this:

To be fair, I didn't invite it in

Text exchange between me and Byrd

Me: Sad to report we have another mouse in the house. I think bcause no sheetrock in back room. Critters wander in from outside.

Byrd: bs they think its a flop house after seeing u bring in all these animals

Well played, sir.

In other news, the puppies are in the dangerously adorable stage, so no photos right now. Your eyes will bleed and you will vomit. They are just that cute, and I don't want to be responsible for your medical bills. Photos to come, later, when they are less cute.

If you recall, or you may not, I am taking a series of prerequisite undergrad courses as I apply for grad school in pursuit of an MPA. The prereq courses are intro to accounting, microeconomics, macroeconomics, and statistics. Sounds fun, right? (Barf.)

Summer semester is over. The accounting professor said to me "I don't know why you're in this class." Possibly because the students were asking me to tutor them. The microecon professor told me (ironically) that I should be a proofreader, because I kept emailing her with corrections to the quiz questions. Hey, I ignored the minor typos and whatnot. I only sent her the major problems, like answers that were, um, totally wrong. Anyway, I made an A in both classes, hooray.

Fall semester starts next week. I will be in a statistics class and macroeconomics. Both are online courses. The macroeconomics course has already opened for the more ambitious folks, and I was very excited to see that the first 4 of 12 chapters are identical to the first four microeconomics chapters. So I will only have to read 75% of the total material, since I remember 25% of it from last semester. Yay!

I am biding my time waiting for the graduate school application to open up. I can't even start on it until next month, and then I won't know if I'm accepted until January or something, and then I don't even start the degree until Fall 2011. Argh! Impatient!!

Next Tuesday I take the GMAT. I'm ready for it. I think. I hate the math part. But I generally do well on standardized tests, and I never did learn how to study for things like this, so I'm not stressed. I don't know what to be stressed about. Ignorance really is bliss!

Foster puppies, week three

The puppies are now 18 days old. Here are the updated glamour shots.

King Louie. This guy knows how to play it. He will scream AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS until you pick him up. Then he's all sunshine and rainbows and cuddles and sleepy round adorable baby, and you forget why you have a pounding headache.

Princess Peach. Along with Louie and Bowser, Peach is one of the "scream team," though she's a lot quieter now that her eyes are open and she can avoid getting stuck behind things.

Mario. He's a big, quiet, slow fellow. He doesn't do much except sleep.

Luigi. My personal favorite, the most developmentally advanced of the group, and very easy going. He's almost walking on his own now.

Princess Daisy. She chirps like a prairie dog. She's a really quiet, sweet puppy that gets trompled on by everyone else.

Yoshi. The smallest puppy. He likes to sit and stare with HUGE round eyeballs and a bobbly head. Freakin' adorable. He's so dangerously cute, I have to constantly resist the urge to squeeze him until he pops.

Bowser. The BIG boy. His two talents are screaming, and peeing. Once you get him started peeing, be prepared to wipe for about three minutes.

Poor Nancy can't hold up against the swarm of hungry puppies. I have to supplement with formula occasionally.

So that's the crew.

Nancy avoids the puppies whenever possible. I have to make her lie down or sit down to feed them every few hours--and I have to sit there and make sure she doesn't run off while they're eating. I also have to: pee and poop them, bottle feed them, comfort them when they're crying, medicate them as necessary, clean up after them, etc.

I'm going to be SO glad when they're weaned and pottying on their own! No more 2 am / 6 am potty times...

Star and Dozer have taken this invasion in stride. Since the puppies aren't vaccinated yet, we have to keep their exposure to our dogs at a minimum anyway. So the pups and Nancy stay in our guest bathroom, and our dogs are not allowed in there.

Sometimes I will bring a puppy (usually Louie, who is screaming to be held) out of the bathroom with me. Dozer could care less. Star is very curious, but not so much that she's naughty. She likes to gently smell the puppy, then run off and do zoomies at a safe distance. Dozer gives a few sniffs, but shows very little interest in anything more.

I don't mind the puppies myself, but they are SO much work, I can't do this again any time soon; I don't have the time or energy for it. One puppy is a lot of work, seven puppies is truly a full time job!

Anyway, if you live in the Austin area, tell all your friends: these pups (and Nancy!) will be available for adoption in mid-September, from Austin Pets Alive.

Grocery Shopping

As it turns out, Nancy is one of the most detached mother dogs there is. I'm doing everything. Right down to stimulating the puppies to pee. I haven't had a full night of sleep in two weeks. I'm exhausted to the core.

I'll have two-week pictures of the puppies in a few days. Yes, they're two weeks old tomorrow, can you believe it? Some of them already have their eyes half-open in a sleepy, drunk look.

Today I went on a typical grocery trip, but I got a kick out of the list this time. We are supposed to add things to the list as we use up supplies, but Byrd always adds a bunch of stuff at the last minute. So I am sometimes surprised by things on the list when I arrive at the store.

Our grocery list

I walked into the store, unfolded the list, and got stuck immediately at this first item Byrd had written down.

What does this say?

All I could tell was that it is a fruit that starts with the letter "p." I eventually guessed peach, but not before running through prune, plum, and grape (in case he'd gotten the letters mixed up).

I was then startled by this "vegetable" request.

Vegetable-hating man says what?

Until about a month ago, Byrd maintained that the soybean was the devil's bean. When I finally tricked him into eating edamame at a Japanese restaurant, he *gasp* liked it. I then revealed that edamame was soybean. He can't spell edamame, so that's why he wrote "soybean" here. Yes, folks, he's asking for soybeans--hell has frozen over.

And finally, there was this mysterious scrawl for me to decipher.

Lots of juices with orange, p, and m?

Turns out this was orange juice, pineapple-orange, and mango-orange. Why he chose to abbreviate in this particularly cryptic way is beyond me.

The list afforded me some entertainment, but as you can see, there isn't a lot of stuff on it. A little under 40 items, right? And yet, the basket looked like this in the end.

Where did all this stuff come from?

Total tally: 63 items, $206.01, and 1.5 hours.

Then I went home to feed and potty seven puppies...