A year ago July, I was very much moping around having lost my Mollie the Collie. It was pretty obvious I needed something to pull me out of the doldrums. I think David and Betty suspected they had the cure when they brought Bosco, one of the latest rescues, to a gathering at Tom and Cindy’s home. This big guy seemed pretty quiet, very content to be petted, and looked like he could have that “Velcro” effect once you paid attention to him. I think Bosco secretly had a plan. One look into his big, brown eyes and, well, he figured he’d just about melt your heart, and then hitch a ride home with you.
Well, his plan was working…except I was hesitant because I still had a large vet bill to pay off from Mollie’s surgery and passing. NEOCR offered that I could take Bosco nome and foster him. So I started to listen to his story. David and Betty said Bosco was a bit of a loner at their place. When left outside, he went under their deck in the back yard the for the first couple days and wouldn’t easily come out. The next few days, he walked the perimeter of their yard and avoided the other dogs. They thought he would do better in a one-dog home.
I asked a lot of questions about eight-year- old Bosco while petting and checking him out. They said he was turned in because he jumped a four-foot fence. I also learned he was heartworm positive. I didn’t know what the ramifications of having heartworm were, but I wondered if that was the real reason he was turned in to a shelter. I wasn’t too concerned about the fenced yard aspect since my pets don’t go outside without me and/or a leash.
“PLEASE take me home,” his eyes seemed to plead. Those eyes…those soulful eyes…they really tug at your heart. Once Bosco knew he had me, he stuck by my side. Deciding to try my first foster situation, off we went for our ride home. Bosco eagerly jumped in the back seat, settled in and made himself comfortable, while my neighbor, Bonnie, documented the event with pictures.
Back at home, the first order of business was to introduce Bosco to Buffy, my petite, eight-year-old calico kitty. Now mind you, Buffy had just lived with Mollie for five-and-a-half years, and they got along splendidly. When I walked in with Bosco, she was a little surprised. Actually, I think she was a little miffed. After the initial introduction, she perched herself at the top of the steps while surveying the room and glaring at me. “Give it time,” I thought. Yeah, right. For the first two weeks, I walked around, and slept, armed with a squirt bottle. Whoever budged first to start the chase or antagonize the other, that’s who got squirted. They made progress behaving well and tolerating each other in the living room. But, every time I went upstairs to bed, the cat ducked under the bed, and the dog did his best to rat her out. Buffy got quarantined to the basement for a few nights since she would let the dog sleep. Whoever’s tags jingled, that’s who got shot with the water bottle. Make it or break it time for Bosco. If he didn’t get along with my cat, he’d have to go back. After a few pep talks, they both got the message, called a truce, and Bosco made the first cut.
Next hurdle we had to pass was shaping up Bosco’s digestive system. He came home with a pretty bad case of diarrhea. I took him to the vet for a checkup and asked about the heartworm condition while I was at it. It turns out dogs can develop COPD or congestive heart failure from untreated heartworm. Due to his age, we put Bosco on monthly heartworm preventive, but nothing more aggressive. He also got some antibiotics and anti-diarrhea medicine. It turned out he was also underweight at 62 pounds. After several messy cleanups, a near melt-down on my part, four dog foods later and a few relapses, his digestive system finally shaped up. Bosco now does so well with potty breaks that I tell people he came with a cast-iron bladder.
One day about three to four months after Bosco came home, Buffy and I charged downstairs to get the nightly meals of pet food. Bosco, not wanting to be left behind, followed us down the stairs. He got about three-quarters of the way down, realized what he did, and then turned around and went back upstairs. Despite being cheered on, he did this several times, always returning to the kitchen. I went upstairs and got one of his squeaky toys. I went back downstairs and squeaked the bejeebers out of his toy. He got up enough nerve to come down to the last basement step. He gingerly touched the floor from the last step as if he were testing the waters, and then he finally crossed the last step to the basement. His reward was eating dinner downstairs that night. He paraded up and down the stairs several more times in a row with me, proud of every step, and stuck to me like glue. However, he still avoided the tiled bathroom floor.
Bosco does not like thunderstorms, which was apparent early on. Although I have to say he isn’t as scared as Mollie was during storms, he is still pretty traumatized. If you are on the couch, he instantly becomes your lap dog. If you’re sleeping in bed, he jumps up next to you and tries to squeeze between your head and the headboard. Then I have a dog sitting on my head, panting and drooling. One day as I was getting ready for work, he quietly came in the bathroom and sat down next to me on the tile floor. “Ah-ha, Bosco! I see thunderstorms trump tile floors!”
That first day I came home with Bosco, I took him for a walk in the neighborhood. Oh my gosh. I wanted to say, “Giddyup, doggie!” Let’s just say he was moving about at a snail’s pace. I thought, maybe I had a dog who didn’t like to go for walks. The vet told me he needed his exercise, but we had to pace him because of the heartworm. I thought about the situation, and concluded that no one probably ever took him for walks, so he didn’t know what to do and was greatly out of shape. Hence, we built our daily walks a little at a time. He looked like Eeyore going down the street. Da-dum, da-dum. Da-dum, da-dum. “Come on Bosco, you can do it! Pick up the pace, Bosco.” Then one day I saw with my own eyes… Da-dum, da-dum, TROT, TROT, TROT! Hey, what was that? He started to pick up the pace slowly but surely. As I passed from yard to yard, neighbors noticed and asked about his progress.
“Hey Moose!”
“How’s the bear today?”
“Hey, Mr. B. How’s it going?”
“Looking good, buddy!”
“How’s Bozo doing?”
“How’s Corky?”
“Corky?” I did a double take on that one. “Who the heck is Corky?”
Bosco continued to improve all winter. He definitely likes cold weather better than warm weather. Can you blame him with that beautiful fur coat of his? Well, spring came along, and out came the bikes, motorcycles, scooters and skateboards…not to mention other neighborhood dogs. Bosco, having now passed his heartworm test at the spring vet visit, was feeling better and getting stronger every day. Mr. Meek & Mild, who first strolled down the street last summer, who did not bark at all for the first three weeks he was home, was now pretty feisty and objecting loudly and wildly over intrusions into his neighborhood. Before the summer was out, I had to get him to some serious training to break his bad outdoor habits. This was the last hurdle. Could we do it? Time would tell.
Bosco was one strong-minded dog with a strong herding instinct. He would take a correction, but he kept barking, twirling and pulling at those obstacles on wheels. “I know, buddy, you would love just once to sink your teeth into one of those rubber tires that keep circling around us, but that’s just not polite.” My back was giving out, and I couldn’t control him on just a leash. We had already tripped over each other and wiped out once, and I’m sure it was a good show for the neighbors. His aggression toward other dogs had to be kept in check, too.
After trying other traditional alternatives, the trainer I was working with and I decided to try an electronic collar for Bosco that came with a portable remote. Some people might object to this method of correction, but it was the solution that worked. I am so proud of Bosco and the progress he’s made. Just the other night we passed a bike, a motorcycle and a couple dogs with nary a WOOF out of him. He gets an opportunity to comply to the heel, sit-stay and leave-it commands, and then he gets a momentary correction after that if he doesn’t listen. He can now get to the point where he starts to object, sighs, and just settles into a sit next to my side.
“Good boy, Bosco! I knew you could do it! Such a good doggie you are!” Yes, he gets LOTS of praise, and loudly too, so the neighbors and bike riders can hear us. We are no longer intimidated by them, but feel free to walk our neighborhood in a well-behaved manner. We still need to work on doggie socialization skills, but I couldn’t be happier with his progress. I even took him to the Collie Picnic this year.
Okay, what’s the moral of the story? What a difference a year makes! Fostering wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, but I was determined to get Bosco over his hang-ups and fears and make him feel comfortable, secure and loved. Even when we hadn’t worked out all the kinks, I knew I didn’t want this dog going to another home. I didn’t want him regressing and starting all over again. Jumped a four foot fence they say? I don’t think so, unless he was left out neglected in a yard or left to wander aimlessly during a thunderstorm. This dog is like a big teddy bear on the inside, gives all kinds of kisses, and, more often than not, likes to be my shadow when I’m home. I nicknamed him Back-Pocket Bosco when he first came home. He seems every day to turn into the relaxed and confident pup I knew he could be.
If you have never fostered before, please consider this loving alternative for a dog who might otherwise be hard to place. I hope when I’m Bosco’s age, someone is as kind to my cranky old self and gives me a little extra attention, too. After celebrating Bosco’s one-year anniversary, we recently upgraded his status to adopted. “Atta boy, Bosco!”
