About Fostering // Carli DavidsonÂ
I picked Millie up from Panda Paws Rescue a few hours after she landed in Oregon. Millie was coming from an emergency relocation out of California, a shelter was losing it’s permitting, and all the dogs had weeks to find placement or risk being euthanized. I put her in a crate in the back seat of my truck not knowing if she was used to riding in cars. With fostering you kind of have to assume the lowest common denominator, that the dogs don’t know things until they prove otherwise. It sets the bar low and means that every little good behavior is a positive, rewarding experience. Anyways, after our drive I ended up taking her on a nice walk before going into my home for the first time to see if she was leash trained. She walked OK on the leash, but it was obviously not something she was used to. Then Millie sauntered into the house, stared at me, and took a shit.
 Now that may sound like a nightmare to some people, but to me it was a golden (or perhaps more of a burnt umber) opportunity to teach Millie that maybe, just maybe crapping in the house was not so awesome. Here was this yearling Chi/Jack Russel terrier mix, totally unaware that she was doing something wrong, and with all the nervous innocents in the world.
 Fostering can be a form of self-exploration. It has taught me that anger has a place, and that place is never in mistakes, never in misunderstanding, and never to be doled out in places of venerability. Anger is reserved for seeing injustice, and using the fuel of anger to change a horrible situation into a positive one.
 That is not to say I never fuck up, or I never get frustrated and need to take a deep breath, or watch the tenor of my voice, its to say in the back of my mind is always the mantra that with dogs like with children, this is not their fault.
 Millie was almost a foster fail. For all her initial neurosis of digging, and barking, and not knowing how to poop or pee on leash and a lack of housetraining she wanted so badly to please. She learned quickly to walk on leash, and then finally to go in such barbarically close proximity to someone staring at her (me) She learned sit and stay overnight, and became easy going around food which she was at first a bit possessive of, and even slowly tried to cuddle with my 100lb mastiff that she initially thought was a giant hairy ball of pure evil, she did not come very fond of other dogs. Most of all her compulsive burrowing quickly transitioned into a desire to bury herself deep in my chest, and nuzzle her nose into my chin any chance she got.
 Millie made my husband and I laugh. We laughed more then we ever had in any given month. She was awkward, and funny looking, bouncy and so sweet. In the morning she was allowed on the bed and would bounce back and fourth under the covers like a tiny white shark.
 Ultimately we decided that if a better home came around for her, we would recommend she be placed in it. We want to keep fostering when the opportunity presents itself, and she we weren’t sure she would be the best dog to bring another traumatized pet home to as she was a bit possessive of attention and while not aggressive she was dominant, even with our mastiff. That said, we were ready to wait as long as needed for that home to come, and that meant three months of having this tiny snaggle tooth beast in our home.
 Millie Was adopted by a friend, a family of 5 with two dopey, passive labs to boss around, chickens and goats to wonder at, and a big piece of land to run around on. It was bittersweet dropping her off at their home, but after seeing footage of her playing with the other dogs, and pictures of her being loved on by kids, I know we made the right choice.
 I still think of her from time to time, and wonder what it would have been like to keep her. I feel really proud that I helped prep her for a lifelong home, and gave her some tools to be a good pet. Millie made me feel good about myself.
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