Murphy and Fletcher, Texas Boys

On becoming a foster dog mom

It’s not really fair, when you think of it, what we do to dogs.

We bring them into our homes and demand that they serve as emotional support, feeding us endorphins with their wagging tails, soulful eyes, and need for attention that somehow makes us feel like we are worth something.

In return we give them some dry kibble, the occasional walk or supervised romp, and pets. I once read a poem, written from the perspective of a dog, who claimed that his humans never petted him correctly, and that has haunted to me to this day.

Happily, my recent foray into being a foster dog mom convinced me that I do indeed know how to give good pets, at least for my first foster, Murphy. More on that in a bit.

Murphy was found, as a puppy, in a sewer in Texas, along with two other dogs. They were left to die, it seems, thought of course we don’t know the intent of those who left them. Murphy has some pretty gnarly looking scars/holes around his neck that would seem to imply abuse or being chained to something nasty. Before I go on, let me say very clearly that dogs being abused and abandoned makes me furious and want to punch people.

Anyway, the rescue that I am fostering through has said that there is a huge problem with abandoned dogs in Texas, and that the shelters and fosters down there are often full. This leads to many dogs being, unfortunately, euthanized when they are rescued from wherever they were left. Needless to say, when they find their way to us here in the DMV (that’s DC, MD and VA, for the record), they come with some baggage.

In Murphy’s case, this manifested in the expected, like being afraid of loud noises or sudden moves, to the unexpected, like being terrified of the television and, wait for it…a house plant.

Happily, as a foster mom, I was able to help Murphy get better about these things. All fear of houseplants was gone when he left two weeks ago for his forever home, and he progressed from shaking in terror at the tv to barking occasionally as if to say “what are these characters doing in my living room?” He also showed his true colors as a goofy, incredibly loving pup who just exudes joy when he feels safe.

I mean, we’re talking about a dog who I could never pet enough - I would scratch his ribs and neck for what felt like forever, and he would outlast me every time.

He also conquered the scary tile floor in my basement. Couldn’t quite get comfy with the car, though, and strangers…no thanks.

So imagine my amazement and delight when a potential foster family, who saw him cower from them in fear on his meet-and-greet, decided they wanted to take him. This is due largely to his incredible excitement about and love for other dogs, which is why he wasn’t destined to stay with me. It’s also due to their kindheartedness; they’d apparently owned another nervous dog and wanted to help Murphy blossom like that one had. If you want to have your faith in humanity restored, hang out with people who adopt dogs with issues.

After about a week to catch up on sleep and clean my house and generally remember what it feels like to not be a foster dog mom, I found myself taking in another Texas boy, Fletcher. The only thing I know about him is that he was found keeping an eye on a litter of puppies (with no mama nearby, sadly), which I’m told is not normal behavior for male dogs. He’s got the cutest feet, with multi colored nails, and he likes to stretch out his back legs which makes him about 6 feet long. :) The Fletch-man is, while inside, a happy, snuggly gallump of a boy who, within half a day, was lolling about on my bed like he owned the place.

However, take Fletcher outside, and he’s a totally different dog. I’ve never met a dog who is terrified of being outside, but that’s Fletcher. Given how much I love being outside, this could prove problematic, but I’m hopeful that I can slowly coax him to realize that he’s safe out there. That feels essential to a dog’s adoptability, wouldn’t you say?

If you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering how I have managed to foster two amazing dogs and not adopt them immediately. That’s a hard question to answer, because both of these boys are full of the love that makes having a dog worth all the work. In Murphy’s case, it was clear he needed a home with another dog to teach him confidence, and some kiddos to love on him. That’s not to say I didn’t shed quite a few tears in the days leading up to his departure; oh boy did I ever. But once he left with his family, all I felt was happy for him and grateful for them. Fletcher and I have known each other for just a few days, and I’ve been spending those days obsessively trying to keep him from licking his privates, post-neuter surgery, so our relationship has a way to go yet. We’ll have to wait and see.

But there’s another piece of this, and that’s Sadie. March 8 was a day I marked in my calendar because I believed it was the 6-month anniversary of the day I sent her over the rainbow bridge. Setting aside that I’m apparently lousy at math and that was actually the 7-month anniversary, I’m not afraid to say that I still miss her…a lot. Today while out walking I saw an orange pooch that looked just like her and it was…sigh. I keep comparing these foster dogs to her and that’s not fair to them, but hey, human hearts are weird that way.

So until Sadie sees fit to send me her replacement, I’ll keep giving these dogs a home. They bring such joy and purpose to life, and I won’t lie; it feels good to be helping them. I’ll do my best to get them ready for the families that need their own Sadie, and enjoy some delightful pets and snuggles along the way. That’s not a bad deal.