Rufus!

Just a couple of weeks after we began volunteering at the animal shelter, Sophie ran across this tiny ball of fur. It looked to everyone like a cross between a Husky and a potato (because up until a certain age, all dogs look pretty much like potatoes). As Sophie sat with the puppy, named "Rufus," snuggling and comforting it, the Shelter Director walked up and nodded in their direction.

"That puppy's too young to stay here. It'll need a foster home." She punctuated the latter sentence with what novelists refer to as 'a significant look'.

After discussing it with Sophie, we agreed that - ready or not - someone would have to step up, and it might as well be us. Thus began two months' worth of attempted house-training, socializing, and looking for a good, stable owner to adopt him. The sleepless nights came as an added bonus. Four aborted adoption missions later (and five other foster animals come and gone), we finally threw in the towel and declared him a "foster failure," as the shelter employees teasingly refer to it. Since he had spent 75% of his life with us thus far, we figured he could stick around for the rest of it.

Rufus has his own Blogger page, "Raising the Rufus," where we basically natter on about some of the ups and downs of bringing up a puppy (now an adolescent dog) in our bizarre little world. Maybe we'll even discuss some things that we learn along the way about what to do - and what not to do - when forging a relationship with (hopefully) the furriest member of your family.

Mike

Mike came into the shelter with Wendy; abandoned, lonely and terrified. He seems to be the more courageous of the two, but he wasn't born with Wendy's winsome good looks. Predictably, he's still at the shelter nearly a week after his only real packmate has gone to find new friends.

Looking something like a cross between a Labrador Retriever, a German Shepherd, and possibly some kind of doggish-looking cow, Mike isn't going to win any purebred championships. But he's got a huge heart, albeit one that seems pretty badly broken at the moment. Trying to get him out the front door is a losing battle; he's terrified of the shelter's lobby, much like Wendy. Shuffling quietly out the back door, however, he gets a bit more of his courage up and cautiously sets out to find some fun.

From the time I've spent with him, Mike seems to enjoy simply walking over just about anything else. Sophie and I have started referring to him as "Shadow," because he's so glad to be near me when we walk, his nose seldom strays more than a foot or so from my side. In the play yard, he's happy to stretch his legs and explore, but likes having a friend around to reassure him.

Although I've had him out and about with both Nick and Johann with no problems at all, the past week seems to have jaded Mike's view of other dogs a little bit. Being sedentary isn't natural for a retriever or a shepherd, and spending most of his time in a kennel is definitely not his idea of a wacky, fun time - so he will occasionally announce his displeasure when I walk by with another dog. It took him long enough to realize that there was actual, positive attention to be had out there; I don't want him to conclude that it's a limited resource he has to compete for.

UPDATE (7/13): I'm quite worried for Mike tonight. Though on the receiving end of a lot of affection (not to mention a good grooming) at the hands of a fantastic new volunteer at the shelter today, he was more withdrawn and depressed this evening. He barely picked at his dinner, and I noticed just before I left that his nose was running. Hardly the end of the world normally, a little cold or a respiratory infection can be disastrous when all of your neighbors live about six feet away. Hopefully, he'll be better in the morning.

UPDATE (7/14): Mike wasn't better in the morning. At least he'll never feel abandoned again: I hope he realized he took a piece of me with him, and it kept him company on his way out.

Cy, the One-Eyed

Little Cy caught my eye (no pun intended) while waiting for his vaccinations. I was smitten with his happy grin, wagging tail, and youthful enthusiasm. He was squinting one eye at me, though, and I checked to see if it was injured or had something in it. Upon closer inspection, I found that Cy appears to be missing his left eye altogether.

That doesn't seem to slow him down much, though; he's fearless and adventuresome. I'm not even sure if he can see out of his right eye, or if he's blind or nearsighted. What he lacks in the visual department, he does a good job of making up for with his ears and nose - which makes it a little bit tricky to tell if he can see where you're going, or if he's just following you by scent or sound. He'll navigate hallways and obstacles with grace and ease, then bump headfirst into his water bucket. Cy's tapetum lucidum - a lens-like membrane in the eye that enhances night vision - looks a bit more reflective than normal, which might be significant. It could indicate blindness in that eye, or it might effect his ability to see in certain lighting... I'm no expert on such things, so I'm in the dark, if you'll pardon the expression.

Aside from needing a good vet to check him out, little Cy could use a fair amount of interaction with people and other dogs. He seems to have been pretty much on his own for most of the first four months of his life, and appears to have missed out on a lot of the "puppy experience." He won't grow up to be a small dog by any stretch of the imagination, so he'll need to be taught to be calm, gentle, and polite (important things for all puppies to be taught, and doubly so in larger breeds).

One outstanding thing that happened today won him my sincere admiration. We were walking together, and passed Sam's kennel on Cy's "blind side". Sam dropped into his best awkward "play bow" and began barking like crazy. Instead of bristling at him, like I've grown used to seeing the other dogs do, Cy turned, bowed back, and bounced around yipping his best, "Yeah! Let's go play!" in reply. Come what may, I'll always remember Cy as the one dog that won't let appearances deceive him.

UPDATE: Cy was rescued on June 16th. Hopefully he will soon be in his new forever home. Good boy, Cybernator!

Anne

Anne is one of the many dogs that became adoptable today - and she wanted everybody to know it. From the moment I arrived, she was barking to get my attention. As soon as I walked up to her kennel, though, she sat quietly and intently, waiting for me to take her out.

For a grown-up lab, she's still got all the puppy enthusiasm that comes with her breed; which is probably why she wound up at the shelter in the first place. I've been told that she can hop a six-foot fence if she wants to, and I'd believe it. She's athletic and graceful, despite being a tad overweight, which suggests she may have been either kept indoors too much or left alone too much. Labradors are both athletes and devoted companions, and without enough action or interaction, can get a bit "stir crazy."

That said, I had no trouble with her when we went out to play. Anne usually came to me when I called, and often tucked her head under my hand when she did, prompting me for some affection. She loves walking and exploring a lot, and would likely make a good exercise partner. Unfortunately, she lost a bit of her "Labrador cred" with me when I found out she's lousy at fetch (how can such a thing be?). It looks like what Anne really needs is some good parenting, some physically and mentally active play, and a loving, structured family to be a part of.

UPDATE: Anne was euthanized June 15th. I owe you a lot of thanks, especially for just running around and hanging out with me this past week. I'll miss you, girl.