Distraught
by the emptiness of my home, I couldn’t stop feeling Mandy’s absence, and then
it occurred to me that I needed to do something. Because I decided I wasn’t
ready to love another dog just yet, I decided to try fostering, to give another
dog a chance in Mandy’s honor; I checked into local rescue groups, and after
several people recommended Second
Chance Animal Rescue, I contacted them. I think the year was 2000.
At first, my
foster dogs were highly-adoptable puppies and small dogs, wriggling bundles of
energy and fur. Some of them literally lasted hours before they were adopted,
but over time, I developed a reputation as a person who could work with more
challenging dogs, and more challenging dogs I got.
It began,
innocently enough, with a call from the dog coordinator asking me if I could
try working with a dog that had some challenging behaviors. She probably
prefaced her comments, “I’m not sure this dog can be saved,” a line that has
led many a rescue dog to front door. To be honest, I’m not even sure which dog
it was—perhaps the Lhasa Apso whose person had committed suicide or the stray
14-year-old Pekinese with a spinal condition and dry eye or the Pekinese cross
that had proptosed its eye squabbling with another, larger dog in its previous
foster home. Maybe it was Wally, who lived with his siblings in the walls of a
house, completely unsocialized. Or Maude, the Neapolitan mastiff that had been
fed carcasses and had to have 18 inch tumor removed from her kidney. I no
longer remember which dog started my journey, but I am so grateful for it.
So, I became the
difficult dog foster, the person who could handle aggression, shy-fearful
behaviors, submissive wetting, separation anxiety. The list became longer over
time, and then when I began working with a holistic vet, Dr. Pomeroy, I began
to work with allergies, too.
Since 2000, I’ve
fostered approximately 170 dogs!