There was a time in my life when I viewed dogs simply as pets. They were cute tail-waggers that are fun to pet and occasionally dress up. I had grown up with dogs, but I didn’t think much beyond the one that I lived with. The thought of strays never crossed my mind, let alone abused, neglected, or unwanted dogs.
Fast forward to 2015. I had experienced two miscarriages. My husband deployed soon after and I found myself looking for something. Something to fill the voids in my heart, something to keep me busy, just something. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but that something found me. I happened to be scrolling through Facebook one night and I saw yet another post for dogs that needed foster homes in order to essentially not be euthanized down the road. I thought to myself, “You can’t just scroll past another cry for help and feel temporary sadness until you scroll to a happy post about something funny a dog did in a viral video. You have to do something.” I had the means, the time, and the energy to help. So, I volunteered to foster one of those dogs. Her name was Emily and she looked like a teddy bear.
I suddenly had a purpose. I already had two dogs of my own, but I was given this responsibility to get her socialized with my dogs, keep her healthy, and get her used to being in a home environment where she was safe. I could almost see the gratitude in her eyes. Animal shelters are loud, often crowded, and just not conducive for animals to thrive. They are meant to be a stepping stone for animals rather than a permanent residence, but often that turns out not to be the case. I fostered Emily for two weeks and cried when I had to bring her to the designated loading location for her trip to an animal rescue down in Florida. She didn’t want to go and I didn’t want her to either, but I kept telling myself that this was the best thing for Emily. Shortly after she arrived down South, I saw a picture of her with her new adoptive mom. My heart soared. That’s when I knew, I had to foster again.
I fostered a senior dog with eye issues named Pearl shortly thereafter, and she was such a little spitfire. I couldn’t help but love her like I had always had her.
Then I fostered two puppies, and I’m still in touch with one of their adoptive moms today. I get to see how happy these dogs are in their new homes and it’s incredible that for a moment, I was able to be a temporary place of shelter, love, safety, calm in their lives.
After immersing myself in this world of rescue, I noticed that the holes in my heart weren’t as gaping as they were before I started fostering. I was helping to start new lives for these dogs that had come from sometimes unimaginable circumstances. This was an epiphany for me. I lost something that I could never get back. I mourned for those babies that I didn’t have the chance to hold, but if it wasn’t for these dogs that had also lost something, I may not have found myself again. I gave my heart to those dogs, and I felt they gave theirs to me. Each one of them held a stitch that pieced my heart back together.
I ended up being what they call in the rescue world, a Foster Failure. An 80-pound gentle giant found his way to me. I saw another post, this one with an urgent message. This dog was going to be euthanized the next morning if he did not have a foster home to go to. He was already tagged to go to a rescue organization in Connecticut, but with no foster, he would be put down. He had another thing working against him. He would need a longer-term foster because he was heart worm positive and needed to receive treatment before he could head North. Additionally, $400 for the treatment needed to be raised. I saw his sweet picture and couldn’t say no. I volunteered to foster this boy for a few months and help to raise the funds to get him healthy.
He started out sleeping in a kennel, but soon after, he was sleeping in bed with me and my two dogs. He would put his head on my shoulder and just look up at me. I knew this dog had to be mine. I officially adopted Bruno after his treatment was complete, and that’s how I earned the title Foster Failure. He still snuggles with me, usually on my lap, and rests his head on my shoulder. You can call that what you want, but I always interpret it as a “thank you”.
I’ve fostered 12 dogs in two years. I’m not sure if they all remember me, but I remember every one of them. I started this venture thinking I’d be helping a shelter and a dog. I now see it as myself being rescued in different ways by every single one of those sweet K-9 souls. My appreciation to them could never be put into words. If I had to put it into an action, it might look a little like Bruno resting his head on my shoulder.
