No, I’m NOT pregnant. And I’m VERY HAPPY to say that.
This summer, our family became foster parents to two different furry-family members.
Fostering an animal is one of the most rewarding experiences for our family to date. Sure we go to church and have helped build houses in Mexico and show love to people who wouldn’t may have felt Christ’s love, but this is different.
Doing little things with a strong desire to please God makes them really great. ~ St. Francis de Sales
The Lord put man on earth to help care for the animals. He put us over them.
Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” ~ Genesis 1:26
I believe taking care of dogs are no exception.
In 2012, our yellow Labrador, Franklin, was no longer able to walk and had completely stopped eating. I cried in my husband’s arms the night we knew our first puppy dog as a couple had to be put down because he was now suffering and the only option was expensive back surgery which may or may not have corrected the problem. Franklin was 12-years old and we look at his photos with joy that he had a wonderful, full life and we were the ones that were blessed to take care of him.
In 2013, through a friend on Facebook, I read about a program called Elder Paws Senior Rescue.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I hear about something and I know – I JUST KNOW – that I want to get involved and help.
But, with a family of three growing children, a husband that doesn’t share in the “save every animal we can” mentality that I do, sometimes there’s not much I can do.
I heard that voice in my head (call it what you want) that whispered, “You can help them.”
Then the other voice, the voice of reason says, “No, you have other goals, other priorities, no time and other things to take care of right now.”
The voice of reason was winning the argument.
My mom had progressed in her diabetes to the point of kidney failure and was on dialysis three days a week. My husband and I were disagreeing on many things and (at the time) he was suggesting I needed to get healthier so I wouldn’t end up like my mother. I had children’s birthday parties to plan, a Halloween costume to make and other things I needed (and wanted) to do with life than take care of another dog.
After having a heart to heart conversation with my husband about how I knew I was supposed to help this charity, and give my lonely mini poodle a friend, we agreed to send an application to be foster parents to one dog (at a time) and as soon as my mini poodle passed away, we would request that the foster dog we had would be the last.
My husband made it very clear that we were not going to get another dog.
I sent in an application to become a furry-friend-foster mom in January of 2014. We had a home inspection performed within a matter of a couple of weeks, and waited.
I helped out the charity when I could, creating a few postcards, talking about it with my friends, going and visiting the adoptable dogs at their events on occasion with my children and my mini-poodle to show the lady in charge that we were a good, nice family with a well behaved dog.
I finally got contacted by the organization’s leader in early June that she had a dog that was capable of being with our children and she explained to me that most senior dogs were skittish around children, tended to nip them, and didn’t like loud noises. I thanked her for just knowing that my children were loud. (Because they are.) She had a dog that was deaf, blind, and was very sweet with everyone he had met.
He was a sweet and wonderful bichon mix and was soft just like my mini poodle and just about the same size.
I had to take Jafari to the vet for an eye problem the third week we had him.
He ended up needing more care than what my family was able to do for him and the organization’s leader was not only aware of it, but suggested that he be placed with a better suited foster for him. My husband and I were again, so grateful that she had the foresight to even consider this and we took the offer.
He ended up with one of his eyes removed and the last time we saw him at an adoption event, he was wagging his tail, barking away at everyone and everything that would listen. As of the date of this post he has not found a forever home and you can find out more about him here.
The organizations leader told me that she had another dog for us that was healthy and totally sweet around children. He did seem to have a problem with men though and was a nervous dog.
Described to me as a Chi Masterson Terrier Mix, he was extremely timid the first day he came home with us. He was not potty trained and growled, although not loudly, at my husband when my husband was around. He had been on the kill list because no one had come to claim him at a local shelter and he was found wandering the streets, friendly, just skittish according to the shelter workers.
Life passes by when you have children and are taking care of dogs. The first night was the only night he slept on his bed in our room. The next night he slept on our bed where our mini-poodle sleeps and knows that’s his bed now.
Potty training him was a challenge. It took us three weeks but we finally broke him in. Again, it was the treats that really showed him that he was being a good boy when he did his business outside.
As a dog owner only twice in my whole life (one in high school and that dog made it to 13-years old) and then as an adult to the two dogs my husband and I loved as ‘children’, I knew I was a “dog person.”
Compare it to this: My mini-poodle was also a rescue. They estimated him to be about 18-months old when we got him, and that was about 13-years ago. His problems were/are extensive. No matter what we do, he incessantly licks his paws. We’ve tried sensitive shampoos, sprays of all kinds, hot spot treatment, pills, you name it and he still does it. He also tries to dominate other dogs whenever he can, no matter how big or how small. (If you’re a dog person, you know what that means.) Ugh. He’s been fixed for 13-years it’s just as embarrassing as you can imagine it to be!
But he’s one of my babies and I still love him. Reese hasn’t done anything like that – at all. My husband and I couldn’t believe it. Those first three weeks we were trying to figure out “what was wrong with him” but the answer kept being “nothing.”
When Reese got over his fear of my husband in about a week, he began spending more time with my husband (and my father during the day when he took care of my children.) My husband would hold him in his arms, just like I do with my mini-poodle.
Around August 20th, my husband told me after the kids went to sleep that he thought we should keep Reese. What? I had to ask him if I heard that right. I did. He wanted me to make the decision to keep him or not.
I started to pray.
I had been under the impression that he did not want another dog. Granted, this dog probably only has 10 more years left because he was five years old, but, still.
I kept hearing conflicting answers in my head. The voice of reason kept telling me that he was just reacting to the moment and he would change his mind after something came up with the dog, and potentially blame me for saying it was okay to keep him.
It took me ten days to know that the answer in my heart was to keep Reese.
There were so many signs in those ten days and yes, I believe in that kind of thing.
I had asked the children over the course of a few days what they thought of Reese and if each of them, individually, would like him as a forever pet. Independently my children said that they wanted to keep him, and my oldest was wise enough to ask, “What about daddy?”
The charity posted this to Facebook on August 30th, after confirming with the leader of the Elder Paws Senior Rescue that we could adopt him. (She was just as surprised as I was.)