Sorry if you've already talked about this, but is it hard to foster? What's it like and how'd you get into it?
STORY TIME. So I had been working at an animal shelter for a little over a year, and was on a pound shift one morning. I hated the pound shift. The pound was dirty and damp and dark and smelly, and the dogs that were dragged into it ranged from petrified adolescents to offensively aggressive guard dogs. Compare this to an adoptions shift, which had giant, beautiful kennels and lovely, behaviourally tested dogs, and you can see why I preferred to stay out of the pound. The pound was scary.
I did my morning rounds and checked on everybody. Kennel 30 was listed as having a litter of puppies in it. I did a head count; 1,2,3. All good there. 3 scrawny, sickly tan puppies huddled on their bed.
Cleaning took a couple of hours (it was a big place). Kennel 30 was the last kennel. I threaded the hose through the door and began blasting the filthy, cold concrete. I apologised to the puppies who curled in closer on their bed; trying to avoid the spray of the water.
They had absolutely no meat on their bones and they started shivering. One shivering puppy, two shivering puppies, one very still puppy. Oh.
I crouched down. Two skeletal babies dipped their heads and wriggled over; tails wagging from between their legs. They licked at my hands and my arms in excitement but I didn’t pat them, I was two busy looking at baby number three. Baby number three did not wag his tail or ask for pats. Baby three had died.
Alone, cold, and terrified - they had been bundled up and thrown in the pound only the day before, and baby number three didn’t make it through the night. I hadn’t noticed all morning. His brother and sister cuddled with him, because that’s what babies do, but cuddles aren’t enough to keep you alive when you’re 8 weeks old, abandoned and sick.
The vet said it could be parvo. It could be worms. It could be malnutrition. Whatever it was, it could be contagious. The other two could die. The other two could be put down to end their suffering. But, the other two came home with me.
Fastforward 2.5yrs and I’ve had over 50 fosters join my family, each with their own story, and each enriching my life further.
To answer your question; yes. It is hard. It’s hard recieving an email from a forever family saying “we loved her so much, we are so glad you brought her to us, but at only a year old she left us”. It is hard bringing a ‘no hope’ dog home, with as much separation anxiety as love to give, and having to conclude that the nicest thing is to in fact walk him back into the shelter and say goodbye. It’s hard seeing a Facebook post with a previous foster being given away not even a year after he’s been adopted.
But it is by far the most rewarding thing I have done and continue to do. Watching dogs transform from backyard mutts to beloved family members, from sick and injured babies to healthy and goofy juvies, from newborns with umbilical cords still attached to sassy and mischievous puppies - it brings me more joy than I could ever try to describe.
