yeah, I was rude

I picked up this rat terrier around Christmas; hence the name "Jingles" (not chosen by me but cute anyhow.) He's an older dog, 5 or 6, right on the border of being "too old" for many people, so he's still not adopted. He's a sweet dog, with a reserved nature.

Yesterday at the adoption event, his foster mom called me over and said,
"These people used to own Jingles!"
A couple stood there with a young child and a baby. Apparently when they walked up, Jingles went nuts, jumped all over the man.
He said, "He looks just like a dog I used to have!"
Deb asked what happened to him, and he said, "He ran off."
I looked at them standing there, looked at Jingles, who by now was standing behind his foster mom with his back to his previous owners, and said "Why didn't you check the dog pound and get him out?"
The man's eyes shifted and he said "We did call! They said they hadn't seen him!"

I call bullshit on that response. If they'd called at all, they would have got their dog back. Unlike some pounds that require you to visit in person every 3 days, this pound knows what dogs they have and what dogs people are looking for, and even if you call during off hours, you can leave a voice mail and they'll call you back. I asked where they live and it's the same town the dog pound is in, so it wasn't even a matter of not knowing to check an adjacent county in case he ended up farther away. No one said anything more and they turned and left.

(Want to bet they came to the event originally to try to adopt a new dog?)

It proves my theory about why so many dogs sit unclaimed in these pounds every week. Half of them were probably dumped off out there by people who believed they had a better chance if they were "turned loose in the country" than if they were left at a shelter or pound. Yeah, a better chance of becoming feral or starving or being hit by a car or injured some other way. Their best chance is if they ARE picked up and end up at the pound. The other half go unclaimed by people who sit around and wait for them to come back or believe they were "stolen" or suspect they might be at the pound but don't call because it's easier to just get a new dog than spend some money saving the one they lost.

Many of these dogs are just like abused children: no matter how bad it was at home or the fact their beloved human tossed them aside like so much trash, what they still want more than anything is to go home. They adjust, sure, or most of them do, but they don't forget just like that. I'd venture a guess most of them would know and forgive their first owners even if their paths crossed years later.

When I got my old dog, Cody, home, I brought him through the back yard and let go of his leash. He immediately turned back to the gate and stood there looking at me as if to say "Thanks for your help. Now can you take me home?"
I said "I'm sorry but you can't go back there. You have to stay with me."
He put his muzzle into the air and let out a long mournful howl, a sound I've never heard him make since, and then seemed to accept his fate, even though it wasn't precisely what he had in mind.


(I have never been able to explain exactly why, of all the dogs I see, I had to save Cody. My only explanation is he stood in his kennel every time I was there, just wagging his tail and looking at me as if to say "Well, when am I leaving?" until finally I went back, opened his kennel door and said, "Come on.")

Maybe I should have been nicer. I know I should have asked what his name used to be and how old he really is. It was never an option from my point of view to allow him to go home with them again. He would have been dead if not for me, the rescue who took him in and the people who agreed to foster him. You don't get a second chance when you have so little concern for your dog's life.

In my defense, nearly my whole life is these dogs. Not a week goes by when I'm not forced to leave some nice dog behind to die, and what goes on at the pound I work with happens everywhere, every day. It's not too often I end up face to face with someone who is the reason why, and my initial gut response was "how the hell did you let this happen to him?!"

Jingles will find another loving home, one that values him unconditionally.

dogs dogs dogs

Wow I've realized this blogging thing has to become a routine but I didn't realize I'd gone this long without updating. It's not like I don't have time exactly. I am online a lot. It's more a matter of what I do with it when I have it, like choosing to read a book rather than mop the floor then complaining my house is never clean.
Anyhow, I haven't stopped rescuing dogs. It's been crazy at the pound for a while now but I've been pretty lucky (or many of the dogs have) and a lot of nice dogs have gotten a second chance.
This puppy was there this week and available to go so rather than leave her in a scary pound to sleep on concrete, I brought her here until I could find someplace for her. Oh man, puppies are way more work than I'm used to and this one seems to be a littermate to some I got from there a few months ago, which means her mom was a Jack Russell terror....er, terrier. And now that she's older I suspect she's mixed with bassett hound too. She's a bundle of cuteness and energy. Her favorite thing seems to be taking flying leaps into my lap when I'm on the computer. She's leaving tomorrow, thank god.

sponsor a snowflake!

I want to take a minute here to promote this, partly because it's for a great rescue and partly because it was my idea and I'm the one who is designing the page!
For as little as $10, you can dedicate one of our gorgeous snowflakes to your pets, friends or family members! The donations go entirely to supporting our low cost spay/neuter programs and for helping the at-risk dogs and cats in Northwest Ohio find great new homes!

Sponsor a Snowflake

On our virtual adoption page, for $25 you can "adopt" a dog or cat for someone too. You can even name the pet or we'll name them for you. What a great gift idea! (I do this page, too!) :)


Virtual Adoptions

new Planned Pethood website!

This is how I've been spending most of my time over the past few months. We had the website professionally designed with a software program that the volunteers can use to create and maintain the pages. As it turned out, being an art major years ago finally paid off (LOL) and I designed many of the pages on here. It was a lot of fun and we're all very excited by the final product!

Planned Pethood

More cute pictures

I have to post these. I was getting pictures for the (coming soon!!!) new Planned Pethood website.

This is Cody, our grouchy old man rescue dog, meeting Calypso the Jack Russell terrier mix puppy. Remind me to blog about Cody next.



Calypso and Emory, the stray kitten who never left (and who thinks he's a dog.)


And last but not least, one where my daughter, who ends up helping with most of the pictures around here, isn't chopped off.
(Emory is the sweetest kitten, really. He's not as demonic as he looks in these pictures!)

November Dogs

On any given day, I think "I'm going to blog about this!" and before I know it, another week has gone by, and then another. Sometimes just keeping up with the dogs is as much as I can manage. Keeping track of the dogs is another story entirely. Every year I start a list, and usually I lose track before the year is out on that project too.

(This year's list ends on June 20, with the 90th dog. I don't know how many more since then. I'll have to figure it out when I get time. That's a lot of dogs. I take some credit, sure, but most of it goes to the rescues who save them. Planned Pethood has taken most of them but other rescues have helped many times as well. Everyone plays a part.)

I try to get pictures of the dogs I pick up, before they're on their way to somewhere else. Here are the dogs from November.

How Many Dogs Do You Have? Julio

When we first started fostering, my son informed us that chihuahuas were his favorite dogs. I've never been a little dog person, so he had to deal with some abuse over that, but we let him foster an occasional chihuahua as they came along.

Julio originally came from the pound I get dogs from, over four years ago. Back then I was still naming dogs after every friend I've ever had, as well as every friend's dog I could think of, and so Julio got his name from someone I knew a long time ago.

We all enjoyed having him here. My son always took "his" fosters for walks and they slept in his room. Julio was soon adopted by an older woman. When we did the adoption she managed to leave with him before my kids got the chance to say goodbye. I think I was more heartbroken over that small omission than my son was, but we all agreed, he was a very nice dog. For a chihuahua.

Fast forward a few months and we find out that Julio is being returned. Apparently he is door dashing, and taking off on romps through the neighborhood, with his senior citizen owner running behind. His return to our home was a joyful reunion for all. We joked he kept taking off so he could come back, since my kids didn't get the chance to say goodbye.

My kids have always been pretty stoic about the dogs that come and go here. They understand the idea of fostering is saving more dogs and if we kept them, then we wouldn't be able to continue to help. Still, I couldn't make my son give that little dog up twice, and so I told him we would adopt Julio.

I have to admit, I love that dog. He's all chihuahua. When we go on walks in the park, he always has to play tough guy, barking and snarling at whoever crosses our path. He knows better. I say "Julio, knock it off!" and he gives one more little snarl, just to let them know he could take 'em if he had to. It's embarassing; everyone laughs. When I pick him up outside, he growls and then I growl back and then he gives me a kiss. He has to sleep under the covers.

We didn't have any problems with him trying to run away from here, except twice a few months ago, when he escaped from the yard. The first time, the gate wasn't shut all the way and he squeezed his body through and took off, with us in hot pursuit. We ran through a couple of neighbors' yards and then across the road, and then something must have clicked with him because he stopped and let us get him. On the way home, I lectured him in no uncertain terms about trucks and little dogs and how sad we would be if something happened to him. A few days later, he shoved his fat little body through again. This time he made it as far as the neighbor's driveway when I yelled JULIO and he stopped in his tracks and sheepishly came back. I do believe that part about missing him hit home!

With as many dogs as he's helped save over the years, it's only fair that my son have a dog of his own, and Julio is a great dog. I can't imagine what it would be like here without him. And I think I'll always have a chihuahua. Just for my son, of course!