Why We Foster

Marcus Hill

Marcus Hill is one of the coolest guys I've never met, except online through Facebook. Some six years ago, Marcus and his wife Criss got into fostering dogs and the odd cat for the Humane Society of Wichita County shelter. Here is his story about......

                                      WHY WE FOSTER

People ask us how can we foster a dog (or cat), give them all that love and attention and then hand them over to a stranger. My answer is that saving a life is more important than breaking my heart over giving up that foster critter. Here is Romeo's story, from a near death experience to a happy loving home.

Romeo the day he came into the Shelter.

Romeo had been found hiding under a piece of tin roofing out in a pasture. Note the discolored areas around his face (photo right), on his nose and jowls. There were more under his jaw. We figure he had been attacked by a hawk and dropped in that pature.

We didn't know it, but there was an almighty abcess under that dark spot in front of his ear. I took him home to foster not long after this photo was taken.

The day after we got Romeo home that abcess burst, so we bandaged it up and applied a lot of love. He was a happy camper, romping and playing with our big dogs. He thrived and grew and wormed his way into our hearts.

A big boo-boo gets a bandage!

We had Romeo in foster for quite a long time. Hard to believe no one wanted such a sweet pup.

A little one-on-one love.

For a while he played with another foster pup we had named Sarah. Sarah got adopted before Romeo did, and we were happy for Sarah, but very sad for Romeo.

One day we got a call from the shelter. "Bring Romeo out, someone wants to met him." That someone was Sam Dillon.

Here he is (bottom photo) two years later racked out on the couch in his forever home. I don't thing Romeo could have found a better home. He is loved, he has two doggie buddies and a pair of fine people that give him all the love we could have and more.

And us? We have fostered another ninteen dogs since Romeo. The latest one, Speckles, is headed to Helping Hounds Dog Rescue in New York on Monday afternoon. Then we'll get us another foster pup and do it all over again.

Heart broken? Yes, but happy as a clam that another dog is saved from possibly being put down. We can't do this alone, it takes a team. From the person that found him to the person that adopted him in the end. We all had a hand in Romeo's success story. And you can do the same, all you have to do is step up and risk a broken heart.

And look who was waitng for us at the shelter. Sam and his buddy MacKenzie, come to take Romeo to his new home. The meet and greet went well and the clouds parted and the sun shown through. It was a great day all around. — with Sam Dillon.

Going to meet his new family....

Be it ever so humble....

And Buddy makes three!

Just introduced a new dog into a house with two dogs and four cats. Why do I feel like I'm sitting on a powder keg?

Buddy the Bashful

That was me Saturday afternoon. After taking a week off from fostering, followed by another week with our first foster failure of the most fortuitous kind, we picked up a little brown and tan guy named Buddy.

I'd heard the name a time or two around the shelter, but we had not met. I'd also heard that Buddy had a past from which he brought baggage. Nothing vicious, of course. Apparently he had come into this world through the home of an hoarder.

Animal hoarding is keeping "more than the typical number of companion animals" resulting in "inability to provide even minimal standards of nutrition, sanitation, shelter and veterinary care," according to the Humane Society of the United States.

Which begs questions like what is the "typical number of companion animals" and "minimal standards" for care. I don't have a concrete answer for either, but I think most rational folks have a fair understanding of both. Hoarders, I'm sure, never start out with an intention to become a hoarder; it just happens that way.

And the irony is that most -- if not all -- hoarders started out with and yet maintain a genuine love for their companion animals.

Cheryl Miller is Director down at the shelter, a job not unlike herding cats. While Buddy was an inmate there, Cheryl took extra time daily to get to know this little guy. Here's her story.

"He came from a hoarding situation," Cheryl said. "He is a Rottweiler-Chihuahua mix," she added, her brows curling into question marks. "Not sure how that happened, but (hoarder) has over 20 of them. She handed over five to us, all very fearful and pretty aggressive toward people.

"Buddy was the only one that even tried to come up to me," Cheryl recalled. "I could tell he wanted me to pet him, but he was scared. So we gave him about a week of us trying every day to get to know him better and for him to even trust us. He never once offered to bite.

"Then, one day, he came up to me, jumped up on me and started licking my hand! So I'm very greatful that Buddy is in foster care now and training for our Rescue Road to Forever."

To be sure, Buddy has a hurdle or two yet to clear before leaving for New York later this month. We have no doubt he will make it. This little guy has come too far to wash out now.

Hmmmm? THREE dogs. FOUR cats? And just exactly, again; WHAT is "typical"? 

The Dog at the End of His Journey

Lazlo, the dog who came to foster and stayed!

Our sometimes annual anniversary road trip all but died on the drawing board Last week. Clearly, Gracie's Curse did not follow her to the whateverafter, for Mom always said, "The surest way to kill a trip is to plan on taking it."

So rather than dining on Gulf Coast seafood in the wake of the latest oil carnage in Galveston Bay, we grabbed a bag of Arbuckle Mountain Original Fried Pies while doing Glen Rose, Texas. Two of the pies actually made it all the way home with us!

Annie, Beano and I were planning a drive down to Freeport, Texas, my birth home, then along the coast to Galveston before winding our way back North. Consequently, we had placed a temporary hold on fostering another transport dog after seeing Sassy, our seventh, off with the Dog Runner Sunday, a week ago.

No one was more thrilled by not having a foster in the house than the resident homeboy Beano. He reveled in his week of being an only dog once again! HE got more treats! HE had ALL the attention!! HE got to take more walks!!!

Truth be told, we all needed a bit of spring break after seven dogs.

Lazlo and the Bean playing TAG!

Back to business as usual, we treked over to the Humane Society of Wichita County to pick out foster #8. That's when things began to go a lot like a Rod Serling short story.

Cheryl down at the shelter had a particular dog, Hazel, in mind for us. Upon arrival, however, a young mother was agonizing over whether or not to adopt Hazel. While we waited for the woman to decide, Beano had a great time running along the fence outside the kennels and getting all the dogs in a tizzy!

The woman opted to take Hazel on trial. 

"Great!" I told Cheryl. "Now show us Lazlo."

We had seen the name in a listing of dogs up for foster for the late April transport. Annie and I both were more than a little curious about this dog with a slavic name. Cheryl was elated that we showed interest in this dog. Seems he had been at the shelter for an exceedingly long time with little interest shown in adopting him.

Part chihuahua and part brindle whoknowswhat, Lazlo is a quiet little guy. He rode most of the way home sitting in my lap (Annie was driving, for a change) and calmly watching the world flash by his window.

Not an hour out from the shelter, Jan Herzog called to tell us Lazlo wasn't medically cleared for the transport program. A trifling matter of a benign skin lesion Doc B. was still treating. We would need to return Lazlo and select another dog.

That did not happen. Since Laz was not cleared for transport, he could be adopted right here in River City. Lazlo, as it turns out, had remained at the shelter for such a long time because Lazlo is Beano's dog! He had been waiting all that time for Beano to show up and claim him.

So Lazlo will not be relocating to New York. Sorry! Helping Hounds! We have initiated adoption proceedings. Lazlo and the Bean will be buddies for the rest of their days.

Annie: That got me a little weepy, right there!

We will be taking the rest of this week off from fostering to give Lazlo a few days to settle in.

Luckily, our next transport date was pushed back a week, so we will be back to the Rescue Road to Forever this coming Saturday in time for the April 29 run.

Speaking of Saturday...

Come out and visit with some dedicated folks and a bunch of worthy animals! Lazlo and Beano will be lookin' for ya!

Wrong Time Right for This Foster

Scots bred Sassy

By Jim and Annie Miller

Hey, Boomers! Which of these things don’t go with the others? Which of these things do not belong? Can you tell which ones don’t mix with the others before I finish this song?

Gulf beaches

Senior Baby Boomers

Masses of crazed high school and college coeds on Spring Break!

It’s not that we are too old for carnival, we’re too slinking slow! So we ended up with another dog, after swearing we were taking a couple or three weeks off “for the sake of the children.”

March 16, Annie and I have been together...what is it now?...17 years? No, 18 years since the man in black strode off an American airliner into the rain of Portland International….

Anyway, I thought it would be nice to drop down to The Gulf for a halfway decent seafood dinner that weekend….

Annie: We’re talking FRESH seafood - the likes of which I have been craving since we came to this landlocked location!

Meanwhile, down at the dealership, someone mentions “Spring Break!”, which gets me wondering, exactly, when is spring break this year. Turns out the weekend of the 16th sits smack on ground zero for Chaos on South Padre Island!

Crate training begins...

So the Great Gulf Coast Road Trip is postponed until the last weekend this month, and now we have Sassy, our sixth foster for the Road to Forever.

This girl is Sassy, and that’s a name, not a comment on her personality. She’s more focused stubbornness than sass, which she presents when faced with something SHE does not want to do!

I swore we would not take another big dog, for Beano’s sake. But picking up a rescue dog to foster for transport isn't exactly like ordering of the value menu at Mickey Dee’s. Naturally, we brought home another Border Collie!

At least we got the gender right, for Beano’s sake.

Miss-named or no, Sassy came to us with fair to middling domestic skills, signs that before she hit hard times, she had been loved deeply and rather well. She's eager to greet-and-sniff without showing aggression and readily responds to Sit when it fits her will. And when she is ready to be loved, she'll come right up, in your face, no matter what you may be attempting at the time and demand your full and undivided attention.

As for some of her others skills, she's accomplished at sleeping on the bed and sniffing out treats. She seems relatively attuned to "Sassy", to which she actually will stop whatever she's about and approach with the what-did-I-do-now expression on her hang dog face....most of the time. Ask or tell her to Lie Down! and odds are even that she will.

"Hey, there! Little red riding-hood...." 

Stay! and Wait! we are not prepared to comment on publicly at this time. And she does have a thing for cats! Fascinated by 'em!!

Annie:  The day Sassy arrived, Jim had picked her up in the morning, dropped her at home and headed to work, so there was little introduction. She came into my life like she was meant to be here - no hesitation on either side. The best part ... Beano accepted her right away, as well. The cats were/are a different story.

Sassy is a herding dog, after all. She isn't just curious about the cats; she wants to bend them to her will. What she doesn't get is that these cats don't play that. I've only seen Raja and Al*B after the dogs have been crated for the night. That's fine - that's how they are choosing to deal, right now.

Simba, well, Simba is exceptional. He has no fear - of any person or any dog. He is confrontational, pugnacious, AND friendly. He loves to engage the dogs, and I believe, likes being the object of the chase. So ... as much as I may tell Sassy, 'No, no!', it's basically Simba who decides how events play out. He sashays into the room slowly and deliberately, attracts Sassy's attention, and away they go.

Check out the new collar!

Interestingly, when I have sternly warned Sassy ('NO kitties!'), she'll come to me and nudge my arm - and continue to do so until I stop what I'm doing and focus entirely on her, as if to say, 'I'm sorry. Love me!' She is a cuddler, but more than that, she wants to share your space - her head on your arm, leg, or pillow. She is a honeybun, pure and simple.

Again, she IS a herding dog - stubborn and strong-willed as all get out. The first time I tried to get her into the crate was laughable. We struggled until we were both spent.  I put treats and toys in and left the door open, the idea being, that she would understand she could come and go on her own. She retrieved the chewy bone and took it to the living room and settled herself on the couch. I took it and threw it back into the crate - she decided she didn't need it that badly and came back and settled at my feet. Round 1:  Sassy!  I planned the next attempt would be when Jim was home.

We've been a little more successful since that first effort. She'll go in on her own when the door is open as long as it's HER idea. Bedtime is still a struggle. She is VERY smart and luring her with treats just doesn't work - she gets the best 'are you kidding me?' look on her face! Once she's in, she's quiet for several hours, but once she awakens, the barking and digging at the door begins (last night she moved the crate about four feet from where it started out!). Of course, so far, we've given in. As long as each night her quiet time is longer than the previous night, I figure we're ahead of the game - and we do have another week to get her used to staying in for longer periods.

Fostering has taught me many things, but chiefly, the amazing capacity the heart has to give and accept love. I know these dogs instinctively know we are here to help them, and regardless of what they've been through, their aim is to please us. We, for our part, open ourselves to caring for them, knowing their time with us is brief. It is bittersweet, but we wouldn't change these experiences for anything in the world.

Third Foster a Charming Handful

He's 42 pounds of unbridled, uncollared, seemingly limitless energy, and he wants nothing more than to share all that hyper-kinetic activity with anyone and everyone who comes within sight. Other dogs, cats, people, mourning doves. Doesn't matter. This nine-month-old border collie has room in his heart and games for all!   

Fenway enjoys a moment in the sun.

We can't help but speculate that this combination of size and energy led to Fenway's being abandoned. 

I want to stress we only can speculate Fenway was abandoned. No one actually witnessed this beautiful dog being dumped. Yet Fenway's profile fits with why some four million dogs are abandoned in the U.S. each year. He is a royal handful with an appetite!

Fenway's known story only goes back a few months when he was picked up and held by animal control. After no one came to claim him, Fen was tagged for shelter placement by the Humane Society of Wichita County. As weeks passed with no one showing interest in adopting, Fen was selected for transport to Helping Hounds Dog Rescue in New York.

Within days of his scheduled departure date, Fenway came down with an upper respiratory infection. He had to be bumped from the Road to Forever.

Meds cleared his infection, and before he could be rescheduled for New York, Fen was adopted! Within two weeks, however, he was returned to the shelter as "not a good fit" with the adopting family.

Always alert for the next game!

Fenway certainly is true to breed:

The Border Collie is very intelligent and aware of its surroundings... able to be trained to a high degree. This is one of the hardest working dogs thriving on praise.... The Border Collie is highly energetic with great stamina. Provided they get sufficient activity to keep them occupied and ample exercise.... This breed can be sensitive and should be very well socialized as a puppy to prevent shyness.... These dogs are too intelligent to lie around the house all day with nothing to do. [dogbreedinfo.com]

In other words, all Fenway needs is his own flock of sheep and a five-acre patch!

One chapter ends, another begins

Waiting out the weather...

Just in from letting the dogs have a romp on the ice-crusted back yard. They had a time of it -- Chase!, Tug-O-Tennis Ball, Top Dawg Championship Wrasslin' -- in spite of the 30F degrees.

Opal Hound seems much less mindful of the cold than does Beano. His mamma's folk, Boston terriers, are not for not liking temperature extremes, and in that regard the Bean favors his mamma.

Beano Miller

This is a transition weekend. A winter weather advisory in effect through Monday is icing on the cake--not to mention roads, bridges and overpasses. Two to four inches of snow and/or sleet is forecast for our neck of the Rolling Plains in the next two days. Opal's scheduled departure Sunday afternoon has been pushed back to Monday afternoon. All fosters are on "stand-by" for further delays as this storm system moves east, covering at least the first few hundred miles of the Road to Forever and Helping Hounds.

Make room for Charlie!

Our next guest was scheduled to check in Sunday, and that has been reset for Monday, as well. Yes, Anniepie and I decided to stay in the HSWC Foster Babies program for another go 'round. Besides the overwhelming need for folks to foster shelter pets, I think a huge factor in our decision is Beano!

Annie and I both will miss Opal. She had us from that first anxious moment at the shelter. Knowing that she is bound for Helping Hounds and an excellent shot at adoption is why our hearts are aching but not breaking.

But what about Beano? This little spoiled terrier had to overcome some tough jealousy and possessiveness issues in those first several days. So much so, in fact, that allowing Opal to remain with us was in jeopardy. By this final week, though, Beano and Opal Hound had bonded like true siblings, in spirit if not in blood. How, we wondered, would Beano take Opal's absence?

John Brandshaw clued me in to a little of what I've come to call Dog Zen, seeing the world and events through the heart and mind of a dog.

    The new canine science reveals that dogs are both smarter and
    dumber than we think they are. For example, they have an almost
    uncanny ability to guess what humans are about to do, because of
    their extreme sensitivity to our body language, but they are also
    trapped in the moment, incapable of projecting the consequences of
    their actions backward or forward in time.

Dog Sense, p. xxii

Dogs may indeed be creatures locked in "the Now." Yet hundreds of years, and even more hundreds of generations of dogs and humans, of codependent relations provide abundant anecdotal evidence that dogs "miss" close friends who have passed on.

I, for one, have no doubt Beano is going to feel the loss of his sister. Better, I believe, to bring in the next foster dog sooner rather than later. Beano will have little time to pine as Charlie, a beauty of a beagle Beano's age (4), is set to check in even as Opal departs.

Putting 'The Dread' to Bed

Doesn't have to hurt to say 'Good bye!'

Don't ask me to explain it. I can't. All I know is I woke up this morning feeling 100% okay with Opal Hound leaving Sunday.

That is mine, right?

Yes, both Annie and I seriously considered adopting our first foster rather than packing her off to New York. That's one way to get around the heart aches of separation, I suppose, but one old--excuse me, mature--couple can only adopt so many critters. We're at our limit with Beano, four cats and a noisy bird!

We could have, would have made room for Opal somehow, and therein lies the rub. Room. Space. Our little quarter-acre lot simply is not big enough for a hound who needs room--lots of room--to bound and romp. Opal Hound at the very least needs a small farm, a country home with space and distances to unlimber those glorious, long legs of hers!

Preparing a dog for this journey halfway across the continent is almost as bad as getting a kid ready for sleep-away camp! Five days' worth of food in daily meals baggies, blanket, collar and leash, KONG, treats, favorite toy(s) and all packed in a travel bag appropriately labelled with the dog's name.

Again, there is the health certification exam tomorrow that Opal must pass before she get's her ticket stamped for Sunday. She's ready. So are we. Well, we will be...after the packing!

Sick as a Dog X 2

Well, hell, we've got two sick dogs.

Of the two, Beano Boglen, our resident terrier, is down the hardest with symptoms of an upper respiratory infection, but Opal Hound has been wheezing and sneezing as well. Having multiple dogs is a lot like having multiple human offspring; if one picks up something, they all share it around sooner or later.

One of the conditions of fostering is that signs of illness must be reported immediately to the Humane Society (HS). Technically, the foster dog remains the responsibility of HS, including any necessary medical care. Additionally, any dog scheduled for transport to New York must pass a final health certification exam.

Opal--aka "Olive", aka "Elvira", aka "Li'l Sister"--is scheduled to board the transport a week from tomorrow, and final medical exams must be done by no later than Thursday. Five days.

Can't say enough about the quick response from Jan Herzog and Cheryl Miller. We had antibiotics for both dogs in under two hours early on a Saturday morning. Only time will tell now if Opal makes her departure date.

When Dogs Collide

This was bound to happen, sooner or later, and no one was at fault except myself. Beano and Opal Hound got into it last night. No injuries were sustained in the brief scrap that points out how essential it is to fully consider the personalities, likes  and dislikes of every member of the pack.

It's MY bread dammit!

Since Opal came to stay with us, Beano has received precious little ink in these pages, even though he is an essential player in fostering. So let's start off this Sunday morning by getting to know a little boglen terrier full of sass and attitude!

Beano has been with us going on four years, now, having been adopted from a co-worker two days after his birth. He is intelligent, loving, does not take kindly to bathing and can be extremely poutish when things do not go his way. I guess you could say Beano is the typical four-year-old...human four-year-old, that is. It's all about him!

Beano gets on well with Annie's four cats who tend to tolerate him. At least, they've stopped hissing and raising a clawed paw when he passes too near, and we have even caught Simba and Beano being almost playful toward one another. Cats being cats, of course, the playfulness comes to a screeching halt as soon as Simba sees they are being watched.

Beano is very open to other dogs, although Opal is only the second dog with which he's had the chance to bond. Our daughter's chihuahua-terrier mix, Patti Mayonnaise--yes, named after the Patti Mayo--is an occasional playmate. Both seem to enjoy their irregular play dates immensely. Beano is always totally tuckered after one of Patti's visits.

Opal, on the other hand, is the first dog to come into the pack and not leave. Therein lies the rub. Beano is territorial and terribly possessive, particularly when it comes to food.

On more than one occasion we have seen him stand guard over a crust of hard, dried out bread he clearly had no desire to eat (photo above). Yet he would give his Back Off! glare and a low, throaty grumble to anyone, man or beast, who dared approach his hoard.

So it was yesterday evening. The trigger was food. Annie had cooked a turkey breast and was slicing the meat from the carcass. The aromas alone were more than sufficient to get both Beano and Opal highly excited. 

Now, Opal stands a good two feet tall at the shoulder, and can clear a table or counter top before you can holler DOWN! Hollering does no good, anyway, as Opal, like most hounds, has excellent selective hearing. So working on the turkey with Opal at her elbow was a new and potentially frustrating challenge.

So to take the pressure off Annie, I collected several scrap bits of bird. Soon as I started for the back door both dogs knew what was up. There excitement peaked a whole 'nother level. It was when we stepped through the door onto the patio that Beano lunged into Opal.

Beano's attack was Pearl Harbor all over again without the carnage. He went straight for the throat, and caught Opal completely by surprise! At first, she tried to back out, but Beano pressed on. With a single swipe of a right paw she had Beano pinned on his back and abject terror in his eyes!

Ever try to separate two tangling dogs with two handfuls of turkey scraps? Lord, it must have been a sight for some ten or fifteen seconds!

After getting them apart, both dogs remained highly agitated. Neither, however, received a scolding. We just talked about it calmly and soothingly as I fed bits of roast turkey to each dog in turn. Each got a morsel. Each got quiet praise. Each got acceptance and understanding, and so it went until the last bits were devoured.

Dogs do not come into this world vicious. They are not haters from birth. Beano's hoarding behavior over food links back through his canine genes to ancestral wolf behavior. If there is fault here, it lies squarely on the shoulders of his human pack alphas. 

Call her anything but late for dinner!

Day 4

If you have food, call her "Opal!" If you have food, call her "Beano!" Either name works equally well if you're holding anything resembling a snack and/or meal. Heck, you can cluck like a chicken, and Opal Hound comes bounding across the hard boards, clicking her toes and trailing long, thin lines of coonhound drool!

Opal Hound proves she can be patient while Jim cuts the cheese.

And don't bother quoting to her from all those articles about how well dogs do on veggie and grains diets. Opal Hound is a committed carnivore.

We weren't concerned last night when post-op Opal showed no interest in her kibble. She'd eat in the morning after, the drugs had worn off.

"Morning" kicked in about 5:30. In the darkness, her tail softly thump...thump...thumped 

against the plastic wall of her crate. Still, she uttered not a whimper, nary a whine. Just her tail drumming on the side of her crate as if to say, "I hear you out there. I smell you near. I know you are coming to let me out."

Her crate opened, she made straight for the back door. First things first after a l-o-n-g night for this lady! 

She moved well, with a spring to her steps, as she trotted all around the border of the back yard. She took her squat and turned back toward the house, glancing only once over her shoulder to insure I was following. Opal showed no ill effects from her surgery.

So I was somewhat surprised when she again turned up her nose at the kibble. She scarcely sniffed at it before going directly to our bedroom and curling up beside Annie. The girl is showing herself to be a woman's dog.

Mrs. Miller's bed is THE place to be on a chilly November morning!
[From top] Simba, Beano, Opal Hound, Raja

After my shift at the dealership I was home a little after two. Annie reported that Opal still had not eaten, and her activity through the morning suggested she was neither sick nor feeling poorly from her surgery. Okay, time had come to do something.

I found a hunk of chuck roast in the fridge, left over from Sunday's back yard bash. Both Beano and Opal were at my side as I began slicing cold, medium-rare beef! The first quarter-inch thick slice was further cut into bite-sized pieces. Both dogs were drooling at attention. Pieces of meat were offered to both dogs simultaneously, because Beano can get super possessive and snappish when it comes to other critters and his chow.

Please, sir, may I have some more?

The good news, of course, is that Opal wasn't off her feed. She just doesn't care for the kibble served here! 

About halfway through dividing up the roast, my son Brian showed up at the front door. When I returned to the kitchen, several slices and the remaining hunk I had been carving from were gone.

Somehow, I seriously doubt that Opal Hound shared her purloined roast with brother Beano. Clearly, nothing consisting of meat or resembling meat can be left unattended on the kitchen cutting board.

The Fix Is In

Day 3

First thing this morning Opal was checked into the P.E.T.S. clinic to be spayed. No pictures for today's update. Some things just don't need to be seen on Facebook.

How is it that a dog who was a total stranger a mere 40-odd hours earlier can be physically and emotionally missed mere moments after she's gone? Damn dog.

She came through the procedure with the proverbial flying colors. Folks at the clinic couldn't brag on her enough, although I suspect they heap praise on every patient. But in Opal's case, all the good things they had to say about her were absolutely true!

This evening she is up but minimally active. As I write she is curled on the bed beside Annie. Some pain and discomfort registers in her eyes, and she certainly isn't bounding nor galumphing anywhere. She has taken fresh water, asked to be let out to pee but turned up her nose at food.

Oh, yeah! Opal apparently came to us house trained! Thank you, Lord! Two days and two nights without letting loose in the house, and this evening she walked to the backdoor, asking to be let out. She took care of business, checked the perimeter, whoofed at a dog barking up the alley, sniffed a couple of pee mails from Beano, then asked me to escort her back to the cozy warmth of our shared den and Annie's bed.

And there's the crate thing....

Annie picked me up from the dealership this afternoon, and we set off in search of something called a KONG , a rubber chew toy that can be filled with treats. Jan Herzog, our friend from the shelter and Opal's true rescuer--suggested a KONG as a tool for crate training. Jan said KONGs are the toy of choice among dogs on long, crate-confined road trips. Like from Texas to New York.

Our local Petco offered more options than you can shake a toy chihuahua at. Plus, they had TOTALLY rearranged their store since last I had called! Half an hour and some 25 bucks later, I was out the door with a KONG Classic, Large, and a box of KONG STUFF'N.

Some nice voice from the clinic called around 2:30. Opal was ready to be picked up anytime before 5. She was subdued, not her "bubbly" self, but if she was pissed at us for what she had gone through, she hid it well. Frankly, I think she was groggy from the drugs and too uncomfortable to be angry.

Back at home, Annie was on the desktop. Opal slowly made her way to the desk and curled up at Annie's feet. She did not want to drink. She did not want to eat. She did not want to squabble with Beano over Beano's smelly old cow. Yes, she seemed glad to be returned to what (we hope) is beginning to feel a little bit like a home, but she clearly did NOT want to be bothered!

Which was cool with all concerned. Oh, Beano made a few overtures toward her, but reluctantly backed off, whining softly, when Opal refused to be enticed. We all left her to her recovering, each doing his or her own thing, including Beano.

Opal takes to Beano's crate

After an hour or so, Opal got up and silently slipped into Beano's crate all on her own. Discovered, she gazed out, somewhat forlorn-looking, as if to ask, "Is it okay?"

We let her stay, thrilled that she had CHOSEN to excuse herself on her own. We would have been more thrilled, perhaps, had she chosen her own crate. We are quite aware of the potential problems that can arise if Beano feels like his space is being invaded by this come-lately hound, even as we are careful to give him the attention and acceptance he has come to expect in his forever home.

Then, after napping out in Beano's digs for some 20 minutes, Opal again got up on her own and walked directly to her borrowed crate in her borrowed bedroom!

All things considered, Opal's very bad, no good day turned out not so completely horrid after all.