Blog Bio Dogs, fosters, adoption and love

Recently my seventeen-year-old granddaughter told me she’d been cleaning up the backyard because they planned to foster a Husky dog. She was so excited to bring home a shelter Husky named Bear. I could tell she was already loving that dog.

I can’t blame her. Several years ago, our daughter Cassie had a friend who fostered dogs. She told Cassie about a little dog foster that had been rescued from a puppy mill. The young dog had spent his life in a cage.

Cassie ended up adopting Melvin who proved to be a sweet dog without a mean bone in his body. His main anxiety was not wanting Cassie out of his sight. She had Melvin for many years, giving him special attention as he aged.

She married and Melvin adopted Kurt as part of the family and then included two children. When he died, the family grieved.

My brother pretty much always had dogs—usually larger dogs. He brought a dog into his marriage with Lorene and throughout their marriage, they adopted several dogs from the shelter. Their dogs were their kids. Finally, they decided not to get another dog.

At least, they thought they both decided that only to discover both were, on their own, checking out dogs at the shelter. That did it, they adopted another dog who needed them.

This dog was big, gentle, and huggable. He also thought he was a lapdog. When they settled in their recliners, Franee would jump into a lap and snuggle down. Paul walked the dog up to our house, but often they walked Franee at Yanney Park. They loved that dog.

Then Paul had a massive heart attack and was gone. The love she and Paul shared with a needy animal came back to sustain Lorene as she dealt with Paul’s loss. Because they were willing to adopt, she received a gift of Franee’s love that has helped her through her grief.

We usually had dogs and often cats when we grew up. Since dad was a minister, we moved every few years. Some places were more conducive to pets than others. Wyoming was a great place for pets, but we didn’t buy them. They came to us. A dog or cat who needed a home found our place. If they looked hungry, mom fed them.

Some moved on. Others stayed and became part of the family, though the restriction was that their main home was outside. (Dad built a dog house.)

One of my best memories is the day we moved to Lance Creek Wyoming. Mrs. Wilson who ran the motel for truckers just down the road had the key to the parsonage. We walked over with her. Mrs. Wilson pointed out the huge dog on the stoop.

She started explaining most were afraid of the animal, but he had refused to leave with the last pastor. Members threw food over the fence for the dog. She wasn’t sure what to do, but Paul, a toddler, before anyone could stop him, opened the gate, marched up to the dog, and hugged him.

I followed, leaving the adults stunned. Skipper had adopted us. He proved to be a wonderful dog. When he died, he left us with many good memories. I could tell many more stories of dogs who met a need for those who adopted them or whom they adopted.

Looking for a dog? Instead of paying through the nose for some fancy breed, consider a shelter pet. These dogs are so ready to give love and are often brave, smart, ready to love the individual or family who reaches out,

© 2021 Carolyn R Scheidies
Published in my Kearney Hub Column 2021 November 8
Feel free to share

Previous
Previous

Poetry Am I Walking with Jesus?

Next
Next

Poetry Let it Slide