There's Always Room for One More

Those of you that know me, know that I love dogs almost more than anything else in this world. I grew up with dogs, my parents instilled in me a love of them. So, I guess it's my parents' fault that I got involved with rescue. Although my mom will argue that an it's all because of one of my aunt's that I'm dog crazy!

My 'real' introduction to rescue was a gorgeous pitbull pup named Ruca. My good friend had 'rescued' her from a crack house. He saw her on the front porch with a man that was clearly high and not caring for her. My friend approached and complimented the guy on his pup. The exchange ended with my friend walking away with the pup, his wallet a little bit lighter. But his heart much fuller. Ruca was my introduction to pitbulls and how misunderstood they can be.

Later, when I discovered that I couldn't be without a dog any longer, my search for one began. I wanted what my friends had in Ruca - a constant companion, well trained and obedient, cuddly and goofy. And so I scoured the internet. I haunted the Kjiji and Craigslist listings, I Googled Ottawa area rescues. I wanted a dog and I didn't care about where it came from. Ideally, I wanted a pitbull pup. I hit a wall when I learned that these wonderful dogs have been banned in Ontario since 2005. Instead, I ended up with Remi.

Remi is a brindle mutt that captured my heart from the moment I spied him. His sisters galloped towards me; Remi checked me out and then casually made his way toward me. My heart belonged to him as soon as he planted his front paws on my legs. It wasn't much longer after that, that he was sitting in a friend's lap as we drove the three hours back to Ottawa.

My very own dog. Finally.

I filled my Facebook page and Instagram with pictures of him. I showed him off every chance I got. I answered questions from strangers on the street about where I got him. "What breed is he?" is a question that I got a lot. Lots of them were surprised when I said that he was from a rescue. "But he's so well behaved!" was the response I got to my answer.

Looking back, I shouldn't be surprised. Some people don't have a great perception of rescue dogs. But I am continually surprised by the questions that I field on an almost daily basis about my foster dogs. I've fostered two dogs to their adoptions. I've temped several others. And I'm fostering the most wonderful dog now, Nigel. Like my other foster dogs, he's a pit bull dog. He isn't available for adoption in Ontario, and while that's pretty terrible, I'm so thankful that I work with a rescue that values these misunderstood dogs and is willing to care for them while we find homes outside of Ontario.

When I first started fostering, many of my friends and co-workers thought I was crazy to bring an unknown dog into my home. They questioned how smart it was. What if it was sick? or vicious? or old? None of these concerned me. I was reassured by the foster coordinators that the dogs were assessed before they left the shelter and they were vetted; in short, there was nothing wrong with these dogs that love couldn't fix. Every dog that I have fostered has been a wonderful dog. There have been hiccups - Mango had allergies, Peyton needed to be housetrained, Nigel is fearful of everything - but the benefits have far outweighed the trouble.

And yes, it is tough to let them go. But every dog deserves a forever home. I cry a few tears when I get home without my foster. I crawl into bed with Remi and we cuddle. And then I get a message shortly afterwards, "We have a new foster for you!" and my heart leaps! I do a load of laundry and make sure we are prepped for the new arrival. And so the foster cycle starts again: the introduction between Remi and his new foster sibling; a walk with my new dog; a short run through of basic commands and before I know it- another wonderful dog is ready for their own home.

There is nothing wrong with rescue dogs. They aren't broken or unworthy. They deserve love and a soft bed. They deserve soft hands and cuddles on the couch; car rides to the cottage and so much more. So even though letting go means tears and a slightly bruised heart, it also means another wonderful dog gets a second chance. I'm so blessed to be part of a rescue organization. It's filled my heart and my home with love and joy and dogs.




*For more information about Sit With Me check out the website at www.sitwithme.ca. For information about the foster program email foster@sitwithme.ca. Sit With Me is a registered Canadian Charity.

Mango Bananas

Yeah. So what?

My little ginger pig, Mango has been adopted.

I was beginning to think that she would be with me forever. And I was more than okay with that. She fit in wonderfully with Remi and my apartment and my friends and their dogs that would come to visit. 

BUT I AM SO EXCITED AND HAPPY THAT SHE WAS ADOPTED. 

She is now living in a muzzle free area of Montreal. And she has her very own chihuahua sister to cuddle.

Thanks to Kate for coming to Montreal with me for the home visit. And thanks to Mangos new family for seeing what a wonderful dog she is.

Thanks to Sit With Me for allowing me to foster. And for all the support through the entire process. I'm so thankful to be part of such an amazing organization.



If you are thinking about adopting a dog, consider one of our rescue dogs. Check out Sit With Me for more information and a list of adoptable dogs. 

When your bad luck outweighs your good

It has been said that if I didn't have bad luck, I would have no luck.

I would agree with this statement. Whole heartedly. 

Two weekends ago, Kate and myself were slated to transport three dogs from our area to the Montreal SPCA. I'd done this once before and it was easy and painless. So we picked up the dogs and started out. It was a great little drive. Except for the fact that one of the dogs, a shitz-tu that we named Yzma, didn't stop her shrill barking. So I had to pull over an hour into the drive to take her out of the crate and give her to Kate to hold. Unfortunately for Kate, she was covered in old pee. And stank. Every time she moved, we got a whiff and it was enough to make us gag. 

We made it to the Montreal SPCA with no more difficulties and got the dogs unloaded and signed into their care. Then we jumped back into the Jeep for the ride home. Except when I went to back out there was no power steering. So I popped out to check that everything was okay. And let's just say that it wasn't.

Thankfully the people and staff of the Montreal SPCA were lovely and cool headed, we spread kitty litter all over the lot to soak up the various liquids spewed out and they had one of their people look at the engine. And then Kate and I sat in the building to think about what we were going to do. Kate had to open the next morning at 5 and we both have 2 dogs that needed to be fed and walked. Spending the night in Montreal was not an option. 

So I did what I do whenever I'm in a spot of trouble: I called Lisa. 

And she offered to drive from Stittsville to Montreal to pick us up. So I had the Jeep towed to a garage that was still open, and then Kate and I wandered the streets of Montreal, ate MacDonald's and tried to find a Starbucks that we could take refuge in until Lisa and Jan rescued us. 

Although, the whole situation was pretty terrible, the silver lining in it was the confirmation that I have wonderful friends in my life. I don't know many people that would have offered to drive 3.5 hours to pick us up and then turn around and head back to Ottawa. 

So although I have terribly bad luck, the one area I have an abundance of luck in, is my friends.