Tasha is Home

Hello, hello. I wanted to pass along some pieces of the updates and photos that I have received from Tasha's new mom, Jenny. It really sounds like things are going quite well and they are working out the kinks; Tasha has settled in more quickly than I ever could have hoped.

Here is the first email I got from her after they left last Sunday:

We arrived home last night. (We were all tired of the car and hotels and decided to push through in 2 days!) Tasha gave me 2 kisses on the way home and requested many belly rubs. I think she and my mom bonded well, also. She met several members of my family last night and seemed very happy. (There were a few tail wags and belly rub requests and she gave my sister an "Eskimo" kiss.) She was not eating on the ride home, but I got her to eat a little bit of wet food last night. I'm sure she will eat when she gets hungry. Meanwhile, I will keep trying some different things to encourage her. She is a very good night sleeper! Hank and I get up around 5:30 am, but she snoozed for a couple more hours.

Yes, she does like the furniture! We've begun working on "off" and I'm sure she will pick it up quickly. We went for a walk today and a ride in the car through the car wash. Mostly, I think both dogs are tired from the trip. I'll keep you updated and thank you for everything. She is such a sweet girl!

To clarify, Hank is her nine year old border collie. The house rule is no dogs on the furniture, except for the bed, but I have a feeling that Tasha may be a little bit cat-like in her rule following - that is, no dogs on the furniture when anybody is home to see it.

This one came the following day:

Just wanted to let you know that Tasha was playful this evening and was interested in her snake for the first time. She ate ALL her dinner tonight. No leftovers. Since she is all rested up from sleeping most of the day, she has started following me everywhere. She's like velcro : ) Tomorrow will be her first day alone since I go back to work. I'll be home at lunch and my mom is going to try and stop by also.

She is such a smart girl. She kept getting on the couch today. I would say "off", reward her with a treat, then ask her to lay down on the dog bed and reward her again. The fourth time I saw her, she looked at me, got off, and came over for her reward! (The first time took much coaxing; she was very resistant.)

She doen't like it when I throw Hank's frisbee (or a stick) for him in the back yard. She goes inside and curls up on the dog bed. Uhmmm? Anyway, she is such a love and we are really enjoying her. (Hank loves all the treats, since I try not to exclude him when I'm working with her.)

And I got this one and the following photos today:

She sleeps on my bed every night, but doesn't like to get up as early as Hank and I. (She must need her beauty rest.) She is such a sweet girl, follows me around the house, and is eating well now, also. She loves going for rides in the car (we like to drive to different trails to go for walks frequently). She goes up the stairs and gets in the car fine. But, she hesitates at great length getting out of the car and coming down the stairs. Maybe something in her front end hurts? Now that she is eating well, I've been adding a joint support and pain management supplement to her food. I think that should help...it just may take a little time. (Hank has joint and stiffness issues and it really helps him. It was recommended by my cousin who is a vet.) She and Hank are still trying to adjust to living together. She doesn't want to share the lovin' and he doesn't want to share the snacks/treats. She is still a little reserved. In time, I think she will open up more. She has given me many of her "stretch-hugs" (when she stands up and puts her front paws on me and stretches). She enjoys rolling in the grass in the backyard.

Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful, pretty girl with me!!

Bittersweet

Well, it happened, the thing which I so deeply hoped for and feared at the same time has happened. My Tasha has been adopted and taken away from here and from me. I keep reminding myself that this just about the best possible solution I could have hoped for and this will allow me to work with more dogs and hopefully get them adopted, too. But over the last several weeks, I have spent so much time with her, taking her home with me at night and over my most recent weekend, getting her out at work and letting her hang out in the kitchen. I feel like I have lost a part of myself and I keep looking around trying to find it only to realize that what I am searching for is gone. I look around as I walk to my car, checking to see where Tasha is, only to realize that she isn’t coming home with me anymore.
Jenny, Tasha’s new mom, arrived on Saturday morning and was smitten from the moment she met Tasha. We chatted for a while and then introduced Tash and Hank, Jenny’s nine year old border collie. They did well together and then over lunch Jenny took Tasha for an outing into town to meet her mom and spend some time together away from the sanctuary. I came wandering into the clinic lobby at about 2 pm to Tasha’s happy face and the sound of Kristi, the adoptions coordinator, telling the caregivers at the Garden that there was no need to bring Bramble over to meet Jenny because she had decided to take Tasha (side note: Jenny originally applied for Tasha and then did some more looking and also said she was interested in Bramble if things didn’t work out with Tash). As just one final bit of insurance to make sure this was all a good fit, they took Tasha on a sleepover on Saturday night and I came home to an empty house and cried at the sight of her beds and tennis ball and the tufts of white fur everywhere. Before I left work on Saturday, I went to her run and collected up a few of her favorite toys and cleaned them up to give to Jenny in the morning and got together a few new toys and other necessities to send on the road with my girl.
When I arrived in the morning on Sunday, Jenny, her mother, and Tasha were all waiting in the clinic. The papers had already been signed, the adoption announced on the radio and most everyone had come to say goodbye and wish them all well. As soon as I walked in, Tasha made a b-line for me and gave me this look that seemed to say, “Why didn’t you take me home last night? I am so glad you are here now!” and began following me around as I went back to the staff room to clock in and then chatted with a few people in the lobby. One of the volunteer coordinators looked at me and said, “She has been looking for you all morning.” While I understood the meaning behind the message, it wasn’t exactly a helpful thing to hear as I was preparing to say goodbye to this dog whom I love so much. After a chat with Jenny and her mother about the sleepover, I asked if I could take Tasha for one last cart ride while I went up to the kitchen and collected up the toys and other things I had gotten together the night before. It was a beautiful morning and I knew the golf cart would feel painfully empty for the rest of the day. When we got back to the clinic, we talked for a few more minutes and then I went out to the car with them to say one final goodbye. I kissed Tasha’s soft white head and closed the car door. I hugged Jenny and we both cried, she promised to send pictures and keep in touch and said that I was welcome to come and visit her if I was ever in the Seattle area. She rolled down the back window so I could see Tasha as they pulled out of the parking lot and I cried more as I watched them go. I couldn’t bear to go back in through the clinic and see all the sympathetic faces and be hugged by all the wonderful people inside because I knew it would only make me cry harder, so I went around the far end of the clinic to get to my golf cart. I crossed paths with one other caregiver, a man I don’t know very well, on my way to my cart and did my best to keep my head down and not make eye contact - he didn’t say anything and I was grateful. As I was driving back up to the kitchen to get started with my work, I passed by Roger, a caregiver that has been around Dogtown for nine years and knew Tasha very well - he was the one that tipped me off to her love of golf cart rides, in the summers he would take her on his cart and drive her all over Dogtown so she could feel the wind on her face. He flagged me down and reached across the passenger seat and gave me a hug, “It’s all so bittersweet,” he said. And he couldn’t be more right.
Over the last couple of days, people have been coming to me and telling me what wonderful work I did with Tasha and that I am the one that made all this happen. It is nice to hear such things and I usually just thank them because I usually start crying and can’t get much more than “Thank you” out, but I feel it must be said that I just pushed her over the last little hump. There was a caregiver named Nova who worked at BF for three and a half years and she spent much of her time here taking Tasha out and about. When she worked down at horses, she would come up daily and take Tasha with her to be an out dog down at Horse Haven. She would take Tasha all over the place with her and had her as an out dog when she worked at the Lodges. She got Tasha ninety percent of the way, and maybe after she left BF several years ago, Tasha backslid a bit, but I just helped remind her of what a good dog she can be, things she learned from her time with Nova, and then just pushed her that last ten percent. So, to Nova - who cried when she found out that, after seven and a half years at BF, Tasha had finally found her forever home - I can’t thank you enough for all the work you did with Tasha before I came along.
Tasha is about ten years old, she came to BF in 2001 from a shelter in Bozeman, MT, where she had been living for two years, so at best, Tasha may have known a home for her first six months, but it is doubtful. She has spent ten years without a family to call her own and, while I felt like I was her family, and I think she felt the same way about me, I also knew that my lifestyle isn’t necessarily ready for the commitment of a dog. So it was truly a bittersweet day, watching her drive away with a real family of her own, and while she may not understand it all right now, she will and I can only hope that she will find the bond with Jenny that she had with me. I feel confident that with time and trust, she will see Jenny in the same light as she saw me and will eagerly follow her from room to room and just want to be close to her person and have her belly rubbed. I will miss her deeply, but I will always remember her happy face and loving eyes.


(Photo copyright Molly Wald, Best Friends Animal Society.)

So you think you have a mouse problem?

One of the things that most people who have never worked in animal care don’t realize is that various rodents and insects can quickly become the bane of any animal caregiver’s existence. As I was arriving at BF, the Lodges had just done battle with the mice that insist on inhabiting the New Friends building (where our kitchen is located). They set out live traps, cleaned out closets, and used aerosol foam insulation to plug the access holes. Mice are a constant problem all throughout the sanctuary; no matter how hard you try, the volume of food that we deal with on a daily basis makes it virtually impossible to stop attracting mice. We keep things clean, but little pieces of kibble seem to find their way into the most unlikely of places and then the mice find them. I wouldn’t even have a problem with the mice if it weren’t for the smell of their waste and the numerous diseases that they carry, which around here includes the Hantavirus - a disease in which you have flu-like symptoms in the extreme and then your lungs fill with fluid and you can die if it isn‘t caught soon enough. It is the things that come with the mice that I don’t like, it is not the mice themselves.
Now, many of you may be wondering why we don’t just set out mouse traps or poison and kill the little buggers, but you must remember, BF is based on the ideology that all living creatures deserve respect and a place in the world (also, poison should never be used because it kills so indiscriminately and effects the entire food chain). We can’t go around saving the cute and cuddly ones and kill the mice and insects that make our work a little harder, so we put out live traps. Monday through Friday, Hal, “The Mouse Man”, sets the traps and goes around daily to check them. He collects up all the mice that get trapped into a five gallon bucket (with a lid) and drives them several miles away from the sanctuary and releases them. He has been doing this for about two years now, averaging anywhere from twelve to thirty mice each day; he releases them into several designated areas, which have now grown into established colonies where the mice are thriving in the wild.
So, back to the original point of this story, after all the work that was done at New Friends several months ago to stop the mice from inhabiting our side of the building, they are now back in full force. For weeks now, we have been spotting them popping out from one closet door and skittering under another or zipping out from a hole in the wall and into a cardboard box full of toys. Sometimes we would open the closet door and one would dive down into a large plastic tub of toys or go hopping across the rims of buckets and shoot into a hole in the wall. We could smell them every time we opened the closet door and they weren’t finding their way into the mouse trap. The closet just needed to be cleaned out and the tub of toys removed and washed because that was the obvious source of much of the odor. When I got to work on Monday, it was very cold and snowy and so I decided I would take advantage of the bad weather to tackle cleaning out the closet before morning feedings began. I dragged everything out, buckets, rubber boots, jugs of cleaners, anything on the floor of the closet came out, including the three foot tub of toys that was the source of much of the smell. I got two garbage bags, one for the plush and fabric toys and one for the tennis balls, they would go down to the laundry for a thorough cleaning, the plastic and rubber toys were tossed into the sink and anything too smelly or gnawed up went to the trash can. About half way down, I let out a startled expletive as I picked up a toy and a mouse went scurrying deeper into the bin. As I continued to pull out the toys, I became more and more cautious because I didn’t want to inadvertently pick up a squirming mouse for I knew that, while I don’t mind mice, I would in all likelihood be so startled that I would screech like a little girl and fling it across the room - probably onto the back of Keeley’s head or into her sink, leading to much more chaos and girly screeching. Over the following minutes the air was filled with many more startled outbursts of swearing and groaning as I continued to spot the mouse. And then, as I moved a toy, it became clear that there were two mice in the bin, and then a moment later I spotted a third. Once I got down to the final layer of toys, it was clear that an entire, multi-generational mouse family was living in the tub. Megan arrived and decided I was moving too slowly removing the toys and went to work grabbing out the rest of the toys in a matter of seconds as Keeley, Andrea, and I stood slack-jawed at the sight before us. They were hopping and skittering around the bottom of the tub, it was like watching popcorn pop and we were all discussing the what to do with the mice. Somebody suggested just dumping the tub outside, but in order to successfully stop the mice from returning, the general rule is two miles, so just taking them out back and dumping the tub would certainly mean they would be back inside before lunch. Megan offered to put them in her car and drive it across the street and let them go there, but to me that seemed like just dumping the problem off on the caregivers over there. And then it occurred to us, we have a Mouse Man, he is paid to manage the mouse problem and relocate the mice, so why not just call Hal and have him come get our tub of mice and add them to his colonies. All Hal knew when he arrived was that we had “a bucket of mice”, so as he walked up to the building, I picked up the bucket and walked it out to the door for him and set it at his feet. “Wow, you really do have a bucket of mice!”
“Yup, we counted - there’s fourteen!” That’s right, fourteen live mice. Fourteen mice all trying to figure out how to get out of the tub. We slapped a lid on the tub and Hal took the mice to be released at one of the colonies he has established over the last two years. So the next time you spot a mouse running through your basement, just picture a big white tub of fourteen mice and it might make you feel a little bit better - then again,

Sweet Freedom

We had something rather unusual happen this week at Dogtown. Up at the Lodges, we received four new dogs that were not coming to us from another area of the sanctuary, but rather, from the “outside” world, without making a stop in the clinic or admissions first. Let me go back a few steps here and explain.
When Hurricane Katrina hit the gulf coast, BF was the first animal rescue group into NoLa and they were the last to leave about eight months later. During their time in Louisiana and Mississippi, BF rescued over 6,000 animals, far more than could be accommodated at the sanctuary here in Utah. As the animals were processed through the temporary sanctuary in Tylertown, Miss., most were either reunited with their families, fostered out to individuals, or sent to other rescue groups across the country that offered up their facilities and time to care for and adopt out these orphans of Katrina. As part of the agreement BF made with these groups, the animals remained the ultimate responsibility of BF, so if under any circumstances the group could or would no longer care for the animals, they would come back to BF. As it happens, three years after Katrina, a rescue group in Texas that took many dogs from Tylertown felt they could no longer adequately care for the dogs that remained from BF’s rescue efforts. And so, this week, a team from BF went down to Texas and brought the fifteen or so dogs back to Utah. It turns out, these dogs have been living for part or all of the last three years in crates, getting walked twice a day.
And so, rather than receiving dogs from different areas of Dogtown that already have some set of known behaviors and quirks, we will get to make these discoveries ourselves. Quite frankly, this can be either a very exciting or slightly scary prospect, depending on the temperament of the dog. But it appears that we have hit the jackpot - Jager, T Boy, Bo Bo, and Beauregard are four of the most adorable and playful and loving pitties you can imagine. These are their official names, though we have already given them each new nicknames,

Jager, the only girl of the group, clearly has some French Bulldog mixed in with the Pittie - look at those ears - and is lovingly called “Frenchie”,

“T-Dawg” just seems much more fitting for this guy than T Boy,

Bo Bo was dubbed “Mr. President” after it was observed that B. O. are the initials of our new president,

and initially we were calling Beauregard “Vice” (as in Vice President because he and Bo Bo came in both named Beau and look almost exactly alike and live next to one another), but decided that “Regar” suited him better.
I was their to witness their first moments in their new surroundings and it was a scene of unrelenting joy and excitement at having the space to run and dig and play, to meet new dogs on the other side of the fence, chew sticks, pee on a tree and then shoot sand everywhere with their own unique style and enthusiasm. It has been a long time since I have been a party to such pure and simple happiness, zooming around the run, barreling into whomever was closest and just being loved and adored. Each of the new kids had a delightfully playful celebration of their new found freedom and I am so happy that I could be a part of it.

Click here for a link to the Web story BF wrote about their arrival.

(All photos copyright Molly Wald, Best Friends Animal Society.)

A Busy Week

It has been a full week up at the Lodges with dogs moving, an adoption, a failed adoption, and so much more. To begin the week, a couple was coming to meet Sophie. For several weeks now, we have all been working under the impression that she was getting adopted and would be going home with these people. Then, two days before they were to arrive, we received word that the husband isn't exactly on board with the whole idea, much to the wife's surprise (allegedly). As we learn more, the adoption that we were all thinking was a done deal is turning into a steaming pile of nothing. By the day of their arrival, we knew that Sophie would not be going home with them, but the woman still wanted to come up and meet her. The whole thing had gone from a near certain adoption to a sleepover with a possible foster to adopt to a brief meet and greet. The butt-munch husband (who apparently celebrated when their last dog died a year ago) refused to even get out of the car to meet Sophie - what an ass face! (More colorful insults come to mind, but my Grama reads this sometimes.) Not exactly the best way to start off the week, but things got better. Oreo's new mom had come to meet him a little over a week ago and she fell in love with him and signed the papers before she left, but she had a few business trips coming up so she wasn't going to be able to come back to take him home to Las Vegas until Feb 14, but then she called on Wednesday and said that her business trip had been cancelled and she would be at BF to take him home on Thursday. So Oreo has gone to his forever home, hooray!!!
I also learned this week that the woman that is interested in Tasha is also interested in a dog named Bramble from a different area of Dogtown and she will make her decision on which one to adopt when she comes next weekend. Tasha went to the vet on Monday for a physical and blood draw and to check her joints (sometimes she walks a little stiffly), Sarah, one of the dog vet techs, discovered a couple of weeks ago that, according to her chart, Tasha has never been see by a vet at BF. Anytime anything has needed to be done, one of the techs has done it, so when this application came up, we decided that it would be a very good idea to get her into the clinic before she possibly leaves to make sure there aren't any pending issues. Dr Mike was able to listen to her heart - that was it, she was not happy about people messing with her and she was letting us all know. Dr Mike decided that it would be better to sedate her and do x-rays and a physical and blood work while she was under, so they sedated her the following day first thing in the morning and did all the stuff she wouldn't let them do the day before. The thing with Tasha, and other feisty dogs like her, is that they tend to require a bit more sedative and your more relaxed, easy going dogs. They started her off on a higher dose than an average 43 pound dog would need and had to give her even more because she continued to fight them after the sedative had taken effect. She even woke up for a minute just after her x-rays while Sarah was up to her elbows in developing x-rays and couldn't get to her, fortunately after a brief survey of the room, Tasha laid back down and dozed off again. They gave her a reversal late morning on Tuesday and she was still looking very stoned and wobbly by quittin' time so I just took her home for the night, again (I had taken her the night before so she wouldn't drink water over night before her sedation). The following day as soon as she got out of the car in front of the clinic, she vomited right in front of one of the vets, so they decided that some pepsid might be a good idea for a few days until her tummy gets to feeling better. She was not too interested in food all day Wednesday and when I put her back in her run for a while with some food and her run mate locked outside she started acting very strange, growling while she was on her bed and then charging and snapping at the door to the outside part of the run. I didn't feel comfortable leaving her in the run for the night, so I took her home for a third night. I talked to Megan last night and she said that she was finally eating better and not acting so tired and stoned. I will make sure to find out what kind of sedative they used on her and see if we can note in her chart to try something different in the future. It wasn't until I got her back up to BF on Thursday morning that she was really starting to act mostly like herself again. Fortunately, all her x-rays were good and nothing else has come up from the physical. I need to double check on the blood work to make sure that everything was good with it, but I should think they would have let us know if there was anything to be concerned about.
I am very happy to report that our little Marge has been moved over to the Garden in Dogtown Heights. She is an extremely sweet and cute black lab/shar pei mix and being at the Garden means that she will be seen by a great many more volunteers and visitors than she was at the Lodges. We can only hope that one of them will take her home finally, she has been at BF for years. I was really sad to see her go, as was everyone at the Lodges, but this means a much greater potential for adoption, so I am very happy for her, too. So now, Jerry Lee is back with us in Marge's old run. He was living in a group for a while at Octagons 1 and 2, but there were some fights in the run after he was added (not all of them involving him) and they felt that the dynamics in the group had been thrown out of whack when he joined them so he was pulled out and sent back to us. I am sad that he isn't in the group anymore and a little annoyed that he got pulled because from the sounds of what I heard, there was another dog in the group that was involved in each of the three fights, but I am also very happy to have him back with us up at the Lodges. I really want to investigate further why it is that he is still a red collar when he hasn't so much as growled at anybody since he arrived at BF. Because of his need for daily eye drops, we have done far more with him than many of the green collars would tolerate and he has never shown even the slightest hint of aggression.
And finally, I had to include this video that Sarah sent to me, it is an amazing clip of a dog being rescued by another dog. As you watch people driving past the wounded dog, it just raises the question, once again, of why it is that when people behave badly we call them animals and when they behave compassionately they are called humane.

Have a great week everyone!