While waiting for my next subject, I decided to shoot a self portrait with my third foster, Laverne. At the time of this photo, I had had her for 9 days.

I love watching these pups unfold into who they are. And they are so willing to do so. Sometimes it's wonderful and sometimes it's not.  Either way, they are trusting you to be a safe place to do either. 

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Three days, three weeks and three months is the mantra for how a dog adapts to a new home. Three days to decompress, three weeks to learn routines, and three months to feel fully at ease in a new house.


While it's a joyful thing to see them in their truest nature, (and it touches my heart so deeply that they allow me to see them and relax into my touch, my lap, my home), it's the most heartbreaking thing I do. Because you are so deeply trusted as a foster, you feel the crushing weight of having to let them go and start all over again with another person or family or place. 






 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But what is so encouraging and delightful is how quickly they can relax and let go with those who love them and show kindness and patience. I'd add "three hours" to the rule of threes. When I meet these dogs at the kennel, they can be frantic, shy, scared, reactive, cowering, jumping, biting...........not always, but it's the reaction to the stress of the kennel, the transport, the whole disruption of their world. There are notes about them and their adaptive behaviors on the boards that we check in with, and we take note. But I also know that this might not be the whole story. What is incredible is within 3 hours they bond, they relax, they start to wag their tail, they start to trust our friendship and  compassion.
 

Laverne came with her sister Shirley from South Carolina, a 16 hour drive in a transport van with 15 other dogs. They were not neutered, and also had parasites so they were only handled by kennel staff for about two weeks. Shirley got adopted, and Lavergne was left behind and was "friendly but shy" and probably pretty distressed that her sister had left. 

 

When I entered her kennel, she ran away and cowered. I sat on the floor and threw treats to her. I slowly approached and let her sniff the harness and she allowed me to put it on. 
 

Getting Laverne to walk was impossible at first. She hung back and I just let her take her time. I picked her up and walked around the parking lot putting her down occasionally to sniff. Lo and behold, her nose took over her fear and she started to track and walk.  We walked all around the parking lot sniffing at the leaves and whatever else was left behind there. I let her walk me and take me where she wanted to go. I didn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do.
 

I started to use the "cues" that I was taught to signal her to "come this way" which is a smoochy kissy sound and a "good girl" and she responded very quickly to this. And began to be interested in my suggestions as to where to go next. 
 

Within less than 16 hours at my home, she's walking incredibly well on the leash, she's apparently moderately housetrained, she doesn't bark excessively, rests quietly alone in her own space, she loves being in my lap and falls asleep within about 3 minutes of petting her. What a great house guest. My heart has been stolen, and surely it will be broken when she transitions to her new family. It's the blessing and curse of this whole exercise. But isn't that what life and love is all about in any circumstance? Can we be tender enough to have our hearts melted and broken within a short span? It's a very challenging condensed version of any relationship that that has been loving. There's always the letting go. And the sadness. And even the grief. And then of course, you can only hope that the new home is as loving as they deserve. There is no control once you let go. That's the other hard part. Almost the most challenging. 

And the volunteers who have fostered dozens if not hundreds of dogs over decades are amazing (I've only had THREE and I'm reeling!)
 

One of the most important things I've learned is that most people really don't know how to form a bond with dogs so that they are the "pack leader" which is what most every dog wants. They don't want to rule the household. Some breeds or dogs do, and that's another story. But what most dogs want is to feel your energy as calm and strong and trustworthy. Then they can surrender into who they are. Dogs that exhibit aggression or neurotic behavior generally do not feel there is a pack leader. So they are mirroring us back to us. I'd say 95%of the time, that's the actual fact.  They don't have the problem, we do. Dogs are our teachers, and our healers, and a reflection of our emotional and energetic state. If we're frantic, distracted, anxious, angry, controlling, etc, they will be responding to all of that. They are asking us to be present, to be in our bodies and hearts. To be reminded of that every day by a creature so forgiving is beyond profound. 
 

One of the most wonderful Youtube channels is called "Sitting with Dogs" with an amazing young man named Rocky Kanacka. He has grown a literal empire starting simply with going into adoption kennels, finding the most shut down dogs, just sitting with them, being kind  and making videos about this for Youtube. Eventually, within usually a short amount of time, these cast off dogs begin to trust him and end up on his lap. This man now has 5.5 million subscribers  on Youtube and many of them are "members' of his channel (including me) for $5 per month. Do the math. He  is now married with two small children and owns a coffee farm/dog rehab center where he takes the hardest kennel cases back home to heal them. That is one of the most wonderful "follow your bliss" stories I've ever heard. Even if 2% of his subscribers send $5 per month (Google takes half) that's $100,000 per month! It couldn't be happening to a more wonderful person, and that all came just from his love of these sweet shelter dogs.
 

Rocky taught me the value of talking to them. "You're a good girl!" "You're so pretty!" "You don't deserve this."  "This isn't your fault."  "I love you." "You're safe now."  I swear to God, they hear it. I really think they do.

 

I am very grateful for all the lessons these divine creatures have brought to me over my lifetime and continue to bring to me through my work with the dogs in shelters. 
 

There is a concept in the Tibetain Buddhist tradition called "The Tender Heart of Sadness" which is actually where we all live. And the practice is to be present and compassionate to this most human of conditions. We lose what we love. But to not love is to lose everything. 

 

And Laverne rests soundly in her sunroom for now, learning to let go again into her own sweet true nature.  Thank you Laverne. Thank you all dogs. Thank you dog rescuers. You are all amazing.