This holiday weekend when I could have had a big getaway trip planned, sans kid (he visited his father's family and spent a good chunk of his time nekkid in a crick up a mountain in Southern Oregon), I instead lazed through my days. I got a major chunk of my to-do list chopped off, and being in the middle of a suddenly clean and “new” floor plan is remarkably soothing, but I interrupted work with long stretches on the couch…in the hammock…or just sleeping in, curled up with a book or my Netflix. I ate when the fancy struck and I had no deadlines or frantic times I had to be somewhere. I didn't even get out the door to go hiking with the dog until 10am on Saturday (which meant there were no camping spots left anywhere in the Gorge).
I gave up the camping idea and instead chose a relatively accessible yet quiet hike. I was in the middle of the Gorge, with jaw dropping views everywhere of mountains, waterfalls, endless vistas, the sheer brunt force of water….yet I chose a hike overflowing with green, devoid of people, without any views aside from the seemingly endless Northwest forest. I saw no one but the white dog's rump. I followed Lily, now a slightly fitter white boxer dog and wearing the borrowed dog pack. I'm glad I had the big white dog as a partner, otherwise I might have spent the entire weekend in the hammock. Being in the woods, listening to the small creeks, birds, insects, wind, and the dog's panting was the restfulness I needed.
In the woods, just her and I, Lily gained her confidence off leash (yes, you can walk in front of me, it's okay) and I tucked a bit of quiet forest to keep inside my soul, to peek at while dealing with the frustrations of truly being stuck. Lily is my fourth foster dog, and at first she wasn't my favorite, being completely different from the last foster, a dog named Laila who, had I been at a different point in my life would have stayed our family dog forever. She was a petite brindle, an utter powerhouse of wiggle butt happiness. She had the cutest under bite, full of energy, very people oriented yet friendly and dependable with other dogs, patient on leash, attentive off leash, a great jogging partner, and Kaeden was in love with her and she him. It was hard letting her go, but her new buddy is a deaf boxer who otherwise wouldn't have a friend.
Laila and Kaeden
Lily was an owner surrender, and her family of seven years had to “let her go” for various reasons. Her surrender form was chock full of warnings; dog aggressive, destructive to home, health issues up the wazoo. I have very few rules for dogs in my home, and since I’m in a rental I have a very low tolerance for destruction. I had to basically sign on the dotted line in blood to convince my rental company to let me foster, so I've taken a few precautions. I purchased a steel 5x5x4 foot tall kennel off Craigslist and installed it in the mud room, and that is where the dogs hang out when I’m at work. Shades drawn, comfy dog bed and blankets, bowl of water, nearly indestructible chew toy filled with frozen peanut butter, radio on. I purchased this bigger kennel because not all dogs crate well when they first reach a foster house, and while I do take the time to train them into it, I can't have them happily chewing on my bed in the meantime. When they settle in they get to be loose in the living room while I'm at work.
Lily convinced my ex-MIL to love her
After about a week I realized what the root of Lily’s issue was; she’d been over-corrected her entire life. Whenever she did something wrong, or was about to, instead of simple and short discipline, it was turned into an Event. Even now after nearly a month with us, she usually exists in a slightly anxious state between wanting to please and convinced she’s about to be yelled at, but she’s never certain what for. When she first arrived, she would stand for whole chunks of time, licking her lips and huffing/whining quietly. Nowadays she scoots one of her many dog beds as close to wherever I'm sitting and curls up, quiet. If I stay in place long enough, she'll drift right off to sleep.
This bed started out on the other side of the living room
I won’t say I’m perfect in never raising my voice to a dog (or my kid) but my house has been remarkably tranquil the past month. Even Kade has picked up on the “don’t ruffle Lily’s feathers” vibe. He would happily play with Laila and throw her toys around for her, but with Lily he prefers to curl up and chill out. Daily walks, rising early to let her out to do her morning business, a switch in diet, a drop of about 10 pounds with about 5 more to go, and quiet reassurance without wrapping her in bubble wrap and I have a dog who doesn't in the least resemble her owner surrender form. Lily is just about the least dog aggressive pup I've ever dealt with (I dumped her in a mix of my friend's dogs which includes a border collie, a Husky mix, and a small terrier with zero issues), she’s perfectly house trained (minus some counter surfing that all dogs do), and she’s mellow to the point of being slightly catatonic, yet still able to hike a leisurely four miles with me.
The rescue I worked with let me know she has a potential adopter, which means she gets (hopefully) a forever home and I can be available for another dog. But I was surprised to feel a pang at the thought that soon, maybe even next week, I'll come home and there won't be a snoring white lump on my couch to surprise with my homecoming (Lily is a white boxer, and while not deaf, I've determined she has the same selective hearing as my kid. Guard dog she's not).
I've also realized that when I'm at work, I'm a bit like Lily in some ways. I grind my teeth a bit, my shoulders are usually hunched, and I'm constantly running through my head everything I need to do and keep track of for my job. Ordinarily none of this would bother me, but at this job I have two women, neither my boss, who love to nitpick and micromanage. I've become pretty good at organization, but constantly stressing over what I might forget, you guessed it, means I miss things sometimes, and either one of these women are happy to jump up and write me a lovely email or note or just coming behind me and fixing whatever I missed. Which leads me to grind my teeth, because I had notes about that, how could I miss it? I'll never get the hang of working in the office, will the place really fall into the Hellmouth if the envelopes aren't stamped in just the right place? I really need to keep this stupid job....
But thanks to things like unions and protesters, I'm only stuck there for 8 hours a day. Eventually I get to go home, cook and hang out with my kid and the dog all night. Life is okay when you have blonde hair to snuff and dog snoring to serenade you to sleep.
