Family

Without my family, fostering would be impossible.
These are the people who stand beside me:
My son Matt,
daughters Chelsea & Shaina
and husband Jim.

Our Furry Family Members

Jewel
Her devotion Is love
In its purest form.
Her kisses
Soft nuzzles
Balm for my soul.
Her stares
Touch me
With their complexity.
Her movements
Beauty incarnate
Contradiction to size.
Harlequin Dane
Mine briefly
But cherished forever.

Canth

was my first foster-failure. He was found on a neighbor's porch by a client of Canadensis Veterinary Clinic. She brought his sister and him in; one of the doctor's took Iris, and the other furball came home with me. We guestimated him to be about four weeks old; he was just a ball of fuzz.

He stood his ground with the big dogs, so my oldest daughter named him Canth -- one of the dragons in the "Dragons of Pern" book series by Anne McAffree.

Here Canth is holding "Mittens," a foster kitten. His mother was Carana, pictured next.

Carana had been hit by a car and rushed to Canadensis Veterinary Clinic. She was half-feral, growling and swiping at anyone who tried to touch her. She delivered three kittens at the Clinic; one had not survived the impact and did not make it.

After several weeks, I was asked if I could foster the two kittens. The Mamma cat was seen as unadoptable; she'd bitten one of the doctors when she had been vaccinated for Rabies. She would likely be euthanized, as who would adopt a cat they couldn't touch? I agreed to take all three ... Both kittens were easily placed, and Carana was adopted by us.

She has turned out to be a sweet little girl, affectionate and playful. She is still quite skittish, but I don't regret keeping her. Who else would rub up against me like she does when it's time for her breakfast?

Whisper

Imagine the surprise of the person looking at the house for sale when she opened up the closet door and found Whisper locked inside with a litter of kittens. Apparently the owner had been placed in a nursing home, and someone either didn't know, or didn't care, that her cat had been shut in. A woman who fostered Danes for me happened to overhear the call come in at Barton Heights Veterinary Hospital and gave them my phone number. Mamma cat and kittens were soon delivered to my door. The kittens were adopted out once they were old enough (sadly the runt, my favorite, died a few weeks later). Whisper remained with us.

Gator was adopted from Corgi Rescue in June of 2000 when he was 10 months old.

Our children wanted a smaller dog that they could walk; I wanted a physique that could stand up to the rough-and-tumble of the Danes.

He is part Corgi and part Cattle dog. The herding from both breeds comes through strong with him; he loves to chase the Danes and anything else that moves.

Memorials

Feral
Spring of 1986 - November 1, 1996

As she came to us
Hiding beneath the couch
Fearful of all
So she is to leave
Huddled beneath the bed
Wanting only peace.
Knowing when
                                                           To say goodbye
                                                           This way
                                                            Is whispering
                                                           That she is loved
                                                           One last time.

Chevy

May 31, 1987 - February 10, 2000

12 1/2 years ago, my then-boyfriend and I decided we wanted to move out of the apartment we shared with a roommate and into our own place. I called ads in the paper for apartments, my first question being, "Do you allow pets?" I wanted a puppy ...

A week before moving into our new place, we answered an ad for "precious puppies free with a bag of puppy chow." Black lab puppies squirmed all around this outdoor pen. There was this larger pup standing off from the rest; he had black fur, white chest/legs, and black and brown speckles on his front legs. We were surprised to hear he was from the same litter. Apparently a nine-month old Lab had a litter of 15; the two others that looked like the speckled pup died. We liked the pup's personality and asked if he could be held for a week until we moved in. Thus Chevy became ours, and we became his.

Through the months our little Lab puppy mutated into this long-haired Afghan-looking creature. We took him for long walks in the VT woods. He loved to chase the seagulls at the St. Michael's College fields. It took him a while to realize that running full-speed into Jim or I hurt *him* too ... He taught me the true meaning of mortification -- when as a six-month-old he went running up to a jogging foreign-exchange student and pulled his sweatpants down to his knees ...

Two and a half years later our first daughter was born ... Chevy was not impressed. When Shaina started tossing Cheerios and other snacks down from her high chair, he decided she wasn't so bad after all ...

Jim joined the Navy to support our family. Chevy and our two cats joined us in our travels from VT to NY, NY to FL, FL to IL, and IL to VA (all in a year and a half). He watched another daughter and a son join our family, and suffered the infant cries until they, too, could shower him with Cheerios. He joined us for long walks along Chesapeake Bay, wallowing in the water like a hippo. He accepted our first Dane without question, and the line of Dane-fosters that followed ...

When we moved up to PA last December, it was obvious how happy he was to be back in the northern climate. He would lay out in the snow and almost sigh with contentment. He walked a lot slower when we hooked the leash to his collar, but the hill is awfully steep ... He was on meds for arthritis and thyroid, and was content to sleep most of the day away.

Chevy stopped eating and drinking last weekend, and developed a wrenching cough. I had noticed a slight cough now and then, but nothing like what he started doing. X-rays and blood work show the presence of tumors in his lungs; he was having a hard time breathing. He spent one night at the vet, and I brought him home so we could say goodbye to him. Thursday we said Godspeed to our first son, our beloved Afghan-Lab who showed us so much about how to love, and how to practice being patient!

I know it was the right thing to do for him; he was truly uncomfortable and not in peace. We took him for one last slow walk, then held him until he crossed the bridge ... Goodbye Chevy, we love you more than words can ever say ...

Michelle crawled into a trap set for a raccoon by Ehrlich, "The 911 of Pest Control." The man brought the feral cat to Canadensis Veterinary Clinic, demanding the staff remove the animal so he could have his trap back. Her eye had been badly damaged by her attempts to escape. Dr. MacCabe was all set to euthanize her, but something made her stop and have the office manager call me. Tested for felv/Fiv, spayed, eye removed, she came home with me to recuperate in a collasal Dane crate.

Daily I would climb into the crate and sit with her, talking soothingly. I would put on thick gloves and stroke the terrified cat. She never lashed out at me, only attempted to sink as far away from my hands and attention as she could. After weeks I took down the crate and gave her free roam of the bedroom. When she was still using the litterbox reliably (as she had from the start) but refusing to come out from under the bed when I entered, I took a chance and left the bedroom door open.

She liked the master bedroom the best, finding that the waterbed headboard made a terrific place to hide under. Many, many months passed and we realized that we'd wake to find her sleeping at our feet. Slowly, slowly she began to let us pet her as she ate. We had actually gotten to the point where we could even briefly pick her up ... when I noticed she was walking in circles and bumping into things. I dropped cotton balls by her good eye and realized she was blind. Her actions went beyond blindness, and blood tests confirmed toxoplasmosis and felv. Yes, she had tested negative for feline aides, but it takes six months after exposure for the test to register accurately.

She deteriorated so quickly that we were forced to put her to sleep. It still amazes me that she was only with us for 18 months ... At least she knew what it was like to be loved and safe.

The other cats were all negative for felv when they were tested six months after Michelle died.

Bobcat was our first pet, adopted from an animal shelter in Burlington, VT in 1987. He was around six months old when we brought him home, and has traveled with us all over the states. Three weeks after adopting him we brought home our puppy Chevy. Three months after that, another cat (Feral) joined us.

He was a beautiful, big boy with a luxurious tail. He was friendly, affectionate, outgoing; everything you could want in a cat. He was loyal to his feline "siblings," not always thrilled with them but the first to defend them if a new foster dog dared chase one of them. He taught our children what being gentle meant; he would growl and slowly flex his claws into a rough hand in a clear warning.

He was the last to die of the pets that joined us before the children were born. He was my cuddle bug, my Bobbles, the brat that would head-butt me at night until I lifted the covers so he could sleep right next to me.

This was Jewel's cat Oreo.
His nickname was "Oreo-Heathen-Kitty-From Hell
and he lived up to it.

Here he is relaxing on one of the dog beds. He would glare ferociously at any dog who dared disturb him, and would never considered backing down from a new dog in his house.

He taught our fosters that cats should be respected, and that they can be fun to chase. One of his favorite games is to leisurely groom himself on the far side of a baby gate, then pounce over and barrel through the room with the dogs in hot pursuit. He'd land unscathed on the side of the other gate, again licking his coat to show how unconcerned he was about the dogs he'd just riled up.

We adopted Oreo from a Chesapeake, VA animal shelter in November of 1996. We lost him on September 5th, 2006 to an intestinal tumor that took us all by surprise. Oreo, I never dreamed I'd miss you as much as I do.