Patty's Posts - Oodles of Doodles Rescue Collective2024-03-29T11:58:39ZPattyhttp://www.doodlerescuecollective.com/profile/Patty652http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1965149131?profile=RESIZE_48X48&width=48&height=48&crop=1%3A1http://www.doodlerescuecollective.com/profiles/blog/feed?user=20jjj4xrgcdwp&xn_auth=noDear Foster Dog(goD)tag:www.doodlerescuecollective.com,2010-03-30:2747693:BlogPost:590802010-03-30T02:00:00.000ZPattyhttp://www.doodlerescuecollective.com/profile/Patty652
Bless me, for I have sinned.<br />
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I cursed Foster Dog (made in your image) as I clipped him to his leash and led him to the cold back yard.<br />
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I cursed him as I wiped the fecal matter from my freshly painted wall and my favorite rug. I cursed him as I hosed down the crate his Guardian Angel (Aunt Liz) gave me when I took in one more dog than I ever imagined I could handle.<br />
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I cursed him as I washed him with the cold garden hose water, rinsed the poo out of his coat, added water to my drenched soil,…
Bless me, for I have sinned.<br />
<br />
I cursed Foster Dog (made in your image) as I clipped him to his leash and led him to the cold back yard.<br />
<br />
I cursed him as I wiped the fecal matter from my freshly painted wall and my favorite rug. I cursed him as I hosed down the crate his Guardian Angel (Aunt Liz) gave me when I took in one more dog than I ever imagined I could handle.<br />
<br />
I cursed him as I washed him with the cold garden hose water, rinsed the poo out of his coat, added water to my drenched soil, prayed the water wouldn't end up in my basement.<br />
<br />
I cursed him as I opened the windows and simmered cinnamon and vanilla on the stove to kill the stench. As I cleaned the walls, the floor, the rug, the crate.<br />
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But I praised Foster Dog as I saw the problem, right there in the back of his crate. The paper towels one of my dogs undoubtedly stole from the garbage, leaving them for Foster Dog to eat. The paper towels that made it out of Foster Dog, intact. All five of them. All five, surrounding... the pink plastic easter egg he chewed and swallowed when I wasn't looking. Wrapped in a little bundle, like a Christmas cracker waiting to be opened. A Christmas cracker surrounded in poo, blessed by the Easter bunny, and delivered with... well, velocity.<br />
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Thank dog. Thank dog. You passed it all right through you. You are ok. I can forgive all of this. You are ok.<br />
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And I praised Foster Dog as I saw how pretty you looked after his garden hose bath. The high-test kibble, the exercise, the essential fatty acids, the fish oil supplements... you glistened. You wagged. You came running when you heard me call for the pretty boy. No, Foster Mom. No. Not him. You must mean me. Look at how pretty I am.<br />
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If this a little poo on the walls is the biggest problem in your day, Foster Mom, just thank dog. Thank dog for your blessings.My Little Cub Scouttag:www.doodlerescuecollective.com,2010-03-15:2747693:BlogPost:577602010-03-15T22:01:30.000ZPattyhttp://www.doodlerescuecollective.com/profile/Patty652
One of the great joys of working with Poe is watching this aloof boy blossom into a loving, protective member of our family. Although he is still a bit hand shy with strangers, he is developing new confidence along with a sense of security and belonging.<br></br><br></br>I posted this picture on DK, but here's more of the story that goes with it.<br></br><br></br>Saturday afternoon, I was cleaning my pantry as the storm started to pick up intensity. Out of nowhere, the wind started gusting. I heard a *whoosh*…
One of the great joys of working with Poe is watching this aloof boy blossom into a loving, protective member of our family. Although he is still a bit hand shy with strangers, he is developing new confidence along with a sense of security and belonging.<br/><br/>I posted this picture on DK, but here's more of the story that goes with it.<br/><br/>Saturday afternoon, I was cleaning my pantry as the storm started to pick up intensity. Out of nowhere, the wind started gusting. I heard a *whoosh* outside, but didn't think much of it. <br/><br/>Next thing I knew, <span style="text-decoration: line-through;">Lassie</span> Poe ran upstairs and started barking furiously. Then he ran downstairs, barking all the while until I came to see what the ruckus was about. Sure enough, this tree was down and had missed the house by only 10 feet!<br/><br/><p style="text-align: center;"><img style="width: 639px; height: 479px;" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1976892081?profile=original" alt=""/></p>
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<p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;">From left to right are Poe, Talullah and Clyde (DRC foster)<br/></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">We had a wild rest of the day with more trees down in our yard, across our driveway and in our neighbors' living room. We drove across town to get pizza and the ride home was downright terrifying. Our city is like a war zone! We worked all day yesterday to cut up the tree pictured here and barely made a dent in it. Most importantly, Paul fixed the fence (busted in three different places) so the dogs could go out off-lead.<br/></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">After being without power since 4 pm Saturday, it finally came back on late last night. How did I know? <span style="text-decoration: line-through;">Lassie</span> Poe started barking to alert me!</p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">As Liz told me, "Every pack needs a squealer." So far, Poe has alerted us to everything from people at the door, to Clyde and Talullah escaping through the broken fence, to an infected wound on one of the cats, to the ups and downs of this weekend's storm. <br/></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">It's been a quick few weeks, but I think he realizes he's got a good gig that's worth protecting! <br/></p>This is Poetag:www.doodlerescuecollective.com,2010-03-04:2747693:BlogPost:568252010-03-04T16:40:02.000ZPattyhttp://www.doodlerescuecollective.com/profile/Patty652
<p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1976892889?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" style="width: 389px; height: 291px;"></img></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">Yeah, yeah, I know. You're looking at that picture and thinking, no, Patty, you nut, that's clearly <span style="font-style: italic;">Floyd</span>. Look, right over there ---->, he's listed as Floyd! <br></br></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">But that's all history; <span style="font-style: italic;">this is Poe</span>. …<br></br></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img style="width: 389px; height: 291px;" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1976892889?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" alt=""/></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">Yeah, yeah, I know. You're looking at that picture and thinking, no, Patty, you nut, that's clearly <span style="font-style: italic;">Floyd</span>. Look, right over there ---->, he's listed as Floyd! <br/></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">But that's all history; <span style="font-style: italic;">this is Poe</span>. <br/></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">This pending dog isn't leaving us any time soon. He came to foster, and he stole my heart. And my teddy bear. I'm 43, and I'm not embarrassed to tell you I have my very own teddy bear. Poe steals it at least 5 times a day because he knows it's <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">hilarious</span>. It's the only naughty thing he does! <br/></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br/>He's been with us for two weeks as of today. We're trying to broker a peace accord between him and our semi-feral cat. He's on great terms with the friendly boy cat, but he chases poor Feral Girl because he is so desperate to say hello. Since she's currently outnumbered (three dogs in the house is new ground for her), she's making herself scarce, but I'm pretty sure they will work it out. Once we pass the hurdle, he'll be officially part of the pack.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br/>We're also trying to fatten him up. He's clearly acres ahead of Matt, but his hip bones jut out in a way that makes me think unkind thoughts about the people who clearly didn't take care of him for the majority of his 10 months. He's finally realizing that in our house, hands are only used for love. Despite his questionable past, he's got a strong spirit, a great sense of humor and the outlook of a true optimist. He loves romping with the other dogs, he is crazy about our family and he is oh-so-smart. <br/></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br/>My younger son saw me uploading this picture to my computer last night. He looked at me and sternly asked "<span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;">Mom</span>. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Why</span> are you uploading pictures of Poe?" I explained I wanted to show him to some of my friends. "<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Mom</span>. You're not listing him, are you? <span style="font-weight: bold;">We're keeping him</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;">We're keeping him</span>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">RIGHT</span>?" <br/></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;">He's the sweetest, most loving, most waggliest puppy. We just have to clear the cat hurdle, and he'll be ours! <br/></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><br/></p>A different kind of fostertag:www.doodlerescuecollective.com,2010-02-13:2747693:BlogPost:548972010-02-13T23:30:00.000ZPattyhttp://www.doodlerescuecollective.com/profile/Patty652
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1976893910?profile=original" style="width: 432px; height: 523px;"></img></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><font size="3">"Y'know, I think you should blog about this," Liz mentioned to me earlier today. "It would be interesting to highlight a different kind of foster."</font></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><font size="3">When she called me a few weeks ago, Liz mentioned that a fellow member needed some help due to a medical…</font></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1976893910?profile=original" style="width: 432px; height: 523px;"/></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> </p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><font size="3">"Y'know, I think you should blog about this," Liz mentioned to me earlier today. "It would be interesting to highlight a different kind of foster."</font></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><font size="3"><br/></font></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><font size="3">When she called me a few weeks ago, Liz mentioned that a fellow member needed some help due to a medical issue. I think I said yes before the sentences were fully formed in her brain. With a sister on the other side of the continent facing her own serious health challenges, I am too well aware of how difficult it can be for a person who lives alone to care for a beloved animal when things go wrong.</font></p>
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<p style="text-align: left;"><font size="3">Clyde, the big black boy on the couch (shh, don't tell his person!) has been with us for a few weeks. We're all smitten; perhaps you can tell by the picture that <span style="font-style: italic;">some of us who shall remain nameless</span> are particularly taken with him. He's settled in to our routine, sleeping when we sleep, playing when we play, and helping me pick up random stuffed animals off the floor. Of course, that final point has occasionally made him less than popular with the youngest 2-leggers in our family, but Clyde more than makes up for it at night when he trots up the stairs alongside Talullah to say goodnight to our children.<br/></font></p>
<font size="3"><br/>We know this isn't forever. As my husband put it earlier as we were driving to the dog park, "Some friends can only come to visit for a short time." We're letting this eager kiss-giver worm his way into our hearts (and onto our couch!) a bit at a time, knowing full well he's going home soon. <br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic;">Home</span>. To his person. Where he belongs. This dog has important work to do. <br/><br/>Until then, he'll be here with us, keeping Talullah on her toes and keeping the floors clear of stuffed animals.<br/></font>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1976896123?profile=original"/></p>
<font size="3"><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic;">By the way, I'm not writing this because I'm looking for accolades. There's no heroism in taking in a perfectly-behaved dog for a month or two. Chances are, if you're a member, you'd do the same.</span></font> <br/>Another near misstag:www.doodlerescuecollective.com,2010-01-22:2747693:BlogPost:529332010-01-22T23:12:10.000ZPattyhttp://www.doodlerescuecollective.com/profile/Patty652
I've become quite the NYCACC connoisseur, perusing the Web site daily and attempting to call (despite the absurdly long hold time) regularly about dogs of interest. I came thisclose to adopting a doodle last weekend, but he was adopted by someone else in the 90 minutes it took me to drive to the Staten Island shelter.<br />
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This morning, I saw a segment on The Today Show featuring four NYCACC dogs ("From Bow to Wow") including a huge, black, shaggy poo mix. He tended more towards poodle, but his…
I've become quite the NYCACC connoisseur, perusing the Web site daily and attempting to call (despite the absurdly long hold time) regularly about dogs of interest. I came thisclose to adopting a doodle last weekend, but he was adopted by someone else in the 90 minutes it took me to drive to the Staten Island shelter.<br />
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This morning, I saw a segment on The Today Show featuring four NYCACC dogs ("From Bow to Wow") including a huge, black, shaggy poo mix. He tended more towards poodle, but his curls looked a liiiitle loose to be a purebred. Knowing that adoption hours start at noon and guessing that the dog would be headed to the Manhattan shelter, Tuli and I jumped in the car for the quick trip to the city.<br />
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I got there and received confirmation that yes, the dog was on the premises, and I filled out an application. And then, I waited. I watched the police bring in a lost and found German Shepherd. Then I waited some more. I saw a woman turn in a sweet but scared stray collie. I chatted with several people waiting with their dogs for the mobile vet care parked on the street. Mostly, I just plain waited.<br />
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An hour and a half later, a nervous looking shelter worker told me that the poodle boy was bad with children. He was an owner turn-in, and his former family's children used to try to ride him like a pony. The dog would growl, and he'd be hit by his people for growling. No wonder he associates children with unpleasantness!<br />
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Although my boys are reliable with dogs and past the stage where they'd bother a dog, we feel very strongly about only adopting a trustworthy dog. We can be sure of our own children, but we have to worry about their friends too.<br />
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I didn't look at this as a sure thing when I set out, but I was undeniably excited to find out the beautiful boy was available when I got to the shelter. I toured the kennels, telling every dog I wasn't taking home "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."<br />
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I struggle with my choice to rescue a doodle or other large poo-mix. What makes a doodle more worthy than any other breed? What about just pulling a dog who's facing certain PTS if he stays in the shelter another day?<br />
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I have no answers.<br />
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Driving home with Tuli next to me, I thought about how hard I've been looking. I've been treating the hunt for a dog like the hunt for a job. Networking. Searching online. Responding to ads and posting a few of my own. Going to shelters. Filing applications. I'm dedicated to the search and I know I can make this happen for me and my family. But there have been so many almosts. And they don't count when it comes to rescue.