Adoption

For a dog with such a demure name, Nora was, in the words of her new owner, purely awful. “There was not a thing that she got to that she did not destroy,” remembers Donna Hess of Basking Ridge, New Jersey, of the first few weeks with her newly adopted Basenji. “She ripped any pillow she could get to shreds, and then started on the comforters and blankets. She knocked over the garbage can 50 times a day. She chewed the other dogs’ collars off their necks. Tissues, toilet paper, knickknacks, throw rugs, small objects of all kinds were stolen or destroyed. Putting stuff up high did not help; she climbed all over the tables and counters. She literally could not be left alone for a second. And the worst thing was if you tried to catch her to confine her, she bit!”

The Gold Paw Program was developed by the Humane Society of Washington County, Maryland, (HSWC) to help identify and work with dogs who have the potential to be someone’s beloved companion, but need some help getting there. Gold Paw volunteers undergo extensive training in canine behavior so they are prepared to provide these dogs with the help they need.

So, you've recently adopted an adolescent or adult dog, or you're planning to adopt one from a rescue group or shelter in the near future. Good for you! It generally takes adult dogs a lot longer to get adopted than those irresistible, pudgy puppies – even when they are calmer, better-socialized, house-trained, and past the chew everything in sight" stage. Shelter staffers often shake their heads as families pass up ideal

The first adult dogs I adopted after beginning my animal protection career at the Marin Humane Society was Mandy, a tri-color Rough Collie who was surrendered to the shelter by her owner at eight years of age because she was leaking urine – she had spay incontinence. I am a sucker for Collies (my childhood companion and confidante was a Collie), and I offered to foster her, brush out her matted fur, and medicate the urine burns on her legs.

There's no denying it: a new puppy is one of the world's most wonderful things. It's a cold, hard heart that doesn't get all mushy over puppy breath, soft pink puppy pads, and the fun of helping a baby dog discover his new world. So, if one puppy is wonderful, two puppies must be twice as wonderful, right? Well, not usually. Most training professionals strongly recommend against adopting two pups at the same time. The biggest challenge of adopting puppy pairs is their tendency to bond very closely with each other, often to the exclusion of a meaningful relationship with their humans. They can become inseparable. Also, owners often underestimate the time commitment required to properly care for and train two puppies; as a result the pups often end up untrained and undersocialized.

Please remember to mention rescue groups for people looking for specific breeds. We love Newfoundlands, and are celebrating the one-year anniversary of our adoption...

not just tolerate them. And if she shows signs of discomfort (such as looking away or moving away from children)

Spring is here and so is shedding season! Suddenly, every carpet in the house is woven with dog hair. Otto has what can be best described as a “combination coat” (I just made that up). Much of his outer coat is made up of long, stiff, straight hair – resembling that from a German Shepherd, or maybe a Labrador – that seems to wriggle into the carpet pattern itself. My vacuum is helpless in the face of this hair. Admittedly, it’s not a great vacuum, so cleaning the few carpets we have has turned into aerobic exercise. Quite some time ago, Black & Decker sent me a new DustBuster (handheld power vacuum) to try. This one is the “Retriever Pet Series Cyclonic Action,” and it plugs in; it’s powerful, unlike wimpy cordless models I’ve owned in my past. Used with its “turbo brush” (spinning rubber bristles) attachment, it’s fantastic at getting pet hair off our couch. But with an approximately three-inch intake, it’s not useful for cleaning entire carpets. My sister Pam has been telling me I absolutely have to get the same vacuum she recently bought: A Dyson “Animal.” She has three small white dogs and swears that she had enough hair to make another, larger dog out of the stuff that the new vacuum cleaned up on its inaugural tour through her house. “I had forgotten what a dark color my couches actually were!” she reported, incredulous. “And my rugs are beautiful!”

Thinking of getting a new dog? Chances are you're inundated with well-intentioned advice from every friend, family member, and canine professional you know about where to go and who to avoid in your quest to find your next canine pal. You may also feel the added burden of finding the right dog - one who will be as close to perfect as caninely possible. It's an awesome challenge. Many years ago, I was living on my own for the first time, and missed having a dog in my life. I went on a Collie search, and soon answered an ad in the paper for Marty's Pride, a tri-color Rough Collie whose owner had gone off to college. Marty was near canine-perfect: the first dog I showed in AKC obedience competition (he earned his Companion Dog title in three trials with scores of 194.5, 196, and 197), and the first dog I ever owned who died of old age. He was also the last dog I deliberately went looking to adopt. Since then my selections have been much more serendipitous. My husband and I tend to adopt the dogs who find us, or we trip over them at the shelter and bring them home. I realize that we're the exception, not the rule. Most people make more deliberate decisions than we do about the kind of dog they want, and where to find him - or her. Those decisions, although deliberate, are not always wise. I'm constantly amazed by the number of clients in my behavior consultation practice who thought they were making well-educated, well-researched decisions about the acquisition of their new four-legged family member, and ended up with something vastly different from what they expected. So how do you make an educated, responsible decision about selecting your next dog?

Imagine a world where no dog is ever euthanized for being homeless. Where there are more homes than dogs, and lists of potential adopters are maintained at every possible dog-adoption-source, with families and individuals anxiously awaiting the next available canine. Where every dog is treasured, and the thought of rehoming" one of these wonderful

Say the words animal shelter" to 10 different people and you're likely to get 10 different reactions - from a warm

I have had a number of dogs over the years, but Otto is actually the very first dog that I’ve gotten as a co-owner. A former boyfriend paid the $40 or $50 that a Bodega, California, sheep rancher wanted for my heart/soul dog, Rupert, way back in 1989, but the puppy was a birthday present for me; Rupe was always my dog. He stuck close by my side through the breakup of that relationship and the next few, too. When Brian (the man who later became my husband) came on the scene, he and Rupert formed a bond, but still, Rupe was mine. Later, a summer of dog-sitting my sister Sue’s long-haired Chihuahua, Mokie, turned into a several-year stay. Mokie has since gone on to live with my sister Pam, who won’t ever give him up; Brian was more than happy when I did so. He tolerated Mokie, but never fully embraced the idea of a yappy little house-dog, no matter how smart and cute. So, while Brian and I have shared a home since 1996, we have never truly shared full ownership of a dog, like we do now. I selected Otto from a shelter, but Brian was the one who gave the signal that it was time for us to get a dog. When Brian and I got married, I kept my own last name, but Brian wanted to be sure that Otto took his surname, and even made sure the dog’s full name (“Otto Maddock”) was engraved on his ID tag. And Brian has been a real champ about sharing dog-care duties with me.