By Dr. Tim Seelig–
Foster fail may be a new phrase for you. It has everything to do with foster and really nothing to do with fail. How could it be a failure if it ends in a committed relationship, moving in together, and creating a furever [sic] home? Fostering an animal is one of the most wonderful things you can do—for yourself and the animal. In most cases, the animal simply needs to be in a home with humans to care for them instead of the lonely and loud environment in a shelter.
For those of you who have followed my column over the last seven years, you know there have been two consistent themes: loving animals and doing what I can to change peoples’ lives. In retirement, I decided to focus on the first of those. What I did not anticipate was that my volunteer position as Lobby Concierge at the Oregon Humane Societies (OHS) would allow me to do the second one as well. We adopt out an average of 30 animals per day. I get to see excitement and anticipation when people enter and the joy and often tears as they leave with a new family member.
I have always surrounded myself with animals and animal lovers. Sharing our lives with animals also means loss. Bobby Jo and I received hundreds of messages when we lost our beloved Tater Tot in June. The heartbreak of losing a pet is indescribable. We pinky swore we would stay without an animal for a year. It would allow me to go on tour with Bobby Jo more and give us time to heal from the loss. My history with such promises isn’t good. The last time I made that promise was with Dan when we lost Carmela. Grace joined our family just three weeks later.
OHS is a huge organization with a robust foster program. Since January, we fostered three little dogs and three seven-week-old kittens. Tater Tot was great with all of them. We did our job and took them back when the assignment was over. Boxes checked.
Two months ago, the humane society received a call from a social worker about dogs in a dire situation. Two OHS workers responded. They found an elderly man who had just begun hospice care. He had 11 dogs. He loved them but had been unable to care for them. One had escaped a week earlier. The conditions were terrible in the garage where they lived. They told him they would need to take the dogs. He understood and only asked if they would bring the dogs in one at a time so he could say goodbye.
One dog went to a neighbor. Nine were brought back to the shelter, spayed or neutered, chipped, vaccinated, and bathed. They were all adorable and were adopted immediately. Not long after the rescue, the escapee was found on the streets. He was a mess and scared to death from weeks on the street. The shelter folks named him Bucky because of an adorable underbite. He was not happy being neutered. Imagine that! He ripped his stitches out twice even with the cone of shame on! He was extremely agitated in the shelter environment. They put him on the foster list to find a quiet environment to allow him to heal. I volunteered.
When I first met him in the shelter, he jumped into my lap, nasty hard cone and all. I brought him home, took his cone off, and he jumped back in my lap. He hasn’t left my side. Some have suggested naming him Velcro. Bobby came home from his latest tour and fell in love as well. We decided foster failure was for us! We’re keeping the name. He is seven years old and the sweetest boy in the world. He hasn’t barked yet!
Sometimes you don’t know you need to be rescued. I do know that when Tater Tot died, life wasn’t the same. I missed hearing his little nails on the hardwood floors as he came running to meet me when I came home. There was no need to say, “I’ll be back soon,” as I left the house for a bit. I missed him leaping off the couch when I asked, “You want your breakfast?” I had a husband, but I had lost my buddy. Every single dog I’ve had let me hold them when life circumstances knocked me down and brought me to tears. They always listened with no judgement. They were patient and let me hug them as long as I needed.
All my human relationships have been clear on where my dog (or dogs) fit in my life: right in the middle. I can never express my gratitude for the canines: Honey Boy, Schatzi, La Di Da, Miss Mona Pearl, Big Daddy, Little Bear, Carmela, Gracey, Tater Tot, and now Bucky. That may sound like a lot. We got Honey Boy when I was three. Bucky came along at seventy-three. Seventy years of joy and companionship.
Friends, if you can’t adopt an animal, consider fostering. Check with your local shelters or organizations to see if they need foster families. Giving a precious animal a few weeks of your time and energy and love can change their lives. It will change yours!
Grateful does not come anywhere near what our hearts feel. They are full and spilling over. It’s a little miracle that we found each other! Bucky is home.
Dr. Tim Seelig is the Conductor Laureate of the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. http://www.timseelig.com/
TLC: Tear, Laughs and Conversation
Published on October 17, 2024
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