Easier This Time

I confess, it was much easier this week not to be swept up in the cute little smooch-y faces of the dogs at the shelter when we went to volunteer. Probably because one of them was an over-enthusiastic nipping freak, who only wanted to play, but must have bit my ankles a dozen times, and yeah, he was all cute and sociable and friendly and everything, but even baby teeth can be really, really sharp, is all I’m saying. And one of the dogs Kendrie took was totally adorable in the cage, then she got him outside and he completely shut down and wouldn’t walk or move or anything. Just sat, paralyzed, frozen like a statue on the sidewalk, and refused to budge. So she had to carry him all over the place, and continually whined about how heavy he was, but I couldn’t help her because I was too busy avoiding the canine Jaws at the end of my leash.

But still, despite those things, we had a blast, like always.















And then, just as I thought my shriveled up raisen of a heart was impervious to puppy eyes, *this* guy showed up.

Can we keep him, Mom? Puh-leeeeeeeze??????

And the answer, from the bottom of my cold, shriveled heart, would be NO.

{Aren't you glad I'm not YOUR mom???}

Kidding. Well, sort of. We explained to the kids after Lager died that there was no way for us to get another dog (or two) until we get a fence put up around the backyard. Granted, I don't work, but there are occasionally days when I'm out getting my nails done, shopping, having lunch, running vital, life-affirming errands, and might not come home for hours at a time. Although our dogs have always been considered "inside" pets, we do need to be able to leave them out in the yard unsupervised every now and then, and that's hard to do without a fence. Plus, if you think I'm potty-training a puppy during the winter months by walking outside with him or her in the middle of the cold dark night, you're crazy. So, no fence, no dog. It's a perfectly reasonable explanation to me.

But that logic has done little to relieve the puppy-lust all three of the kids have had these past two months. Since I've been wanting to get them involved in some sort of community service, volunteering at a local animal shelter seemed like a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Er, walk two dogs with one leash. Whatever.

So to that end, the kids and I started about a month ago taking part in a youth mentor program that lets kids help out at the shelter by walking dogs, playing with them, and trying to make them more "people friendly" so the workers can place them more easily. We started out the first week with the big dogs, since that's what we've always had at our house. But after being cooped up in cages most of the day, these dogs are pretty much hysterical-thrilled to be out with people, and quite honestly, the kids had trouble handling the bigger dogs themsleves. I'm only supposed to be there as a chaperone of sorts, and I wound up doing all the work myself with the bigger animals. AND sweating, chasing after those dogs, which was TOTALLY not part of the plan. The kids really, really, really wanted to be the ones doing the work, but I didn't think taking a ginormously strong shelter dog out for a walk and then LOSING IT because we couldn't hang on to the leash would endear us to the program, so the next week we asked to work with smaller animals.

It's really been a lot of fun, and only a little bit heartbreaking to know people just dump wonderful animals like this and that we can't take every single dog home with us. Today the weather was amazing here (seriously, probably the best day since we moved home ..... but enjoy it while it lasts, because there's another cold front moving in as I type this) and the kids had a blast this afternoon playing with their animals. An absolute blast --- and naturally, wheedled and pleaded to take all three dogs home with us. But because I am a frigid, cold hearted shrew of a mother, I was able to say no, despite the MANY sets of puppy dog eyes being sent my direction.




Kellen and his new buddy, Romeo. Or, "Ramona", as he kept calling him.



Brayden and her spastic frenetic ball of energy, Bertha. {I know, Bertha? But I guess the shelter workers run out of creative names at some point, after naming hundreds of dogs and cats a year, and have to go with anything that comes to mind. Maybe one of them has an Great Aunt Bertha, or something. Perhaps instead of donating dog food and treats, someone should donate a baby name book.}



Of course, even Bertha is better than this poor thing, who doesn't even have a name yet. I vote for "Fraidy-cat", because the entire time Kendrie was walking him, every time he heard another dog barking {which happened a lot because hello, it's a dog pound} he would tense up, sit down, start shaking, and refuse to move. Thank goodness he was light since she wound up carrying him a lot .... not that she cared, of course.



It's the kids jobs to run with the dogs and get them some exercise after being in the cages all day. (The dogs, not the kids, although perhpas I should consider cages if they're really mis-behaving. The kids, not the dogs.)



We also like to see if they know any tricks, like sit or stay or shake. Or in this psycho's case, the well-known "Attack the leash with all your might" trick.



Usually, they're just so glad to be out and interacting with other human beings (the dogs, not the kids) that they want to play more than anything.



Most of them, not all, but most of them, seem to enjoy their interaction with the kids as much as they enjoy running. But NOT as much as they enjoy sniffing the ground and rolling around in whatever piles of dirt and heaven-only-knows-what-else they can find.



As you can tell, the kids don't mind a whole lot.



Nope, they're so happy that they're squirmy. The dogs, not the kids. Well, on second thought, the kids too.



Sometimes the dogs get along and want to play together.



Sometimes they're puppies through and through and chew on whatever they can get ahold of. Damnit, Brayden only has two pair of jeans that fit her, and this nut-case chewed two small holes in one of them today. (sigh)



Not too often, but occasionally, they'll get tired and need a brief rest.



Oops, then it's off again, running in circles and wrestling and seeing just how tangled they can get their leashes.



Although I have to admit, saying no today was a pretty hard thing to do. I mean, just LOOK at this face!