Diary of a Foster Carer – Part 4

Bek continues her account of life as a doggy carer…

The last time I wrote, I’d just discovered the name of our next foster dog. That afternoon I travelled an hour out of town to the pound where he was being kept, and was greeted by a tiny, scared and incredibly cute-looking dog.

According to the pound he is four years old, but in his shrunken and frightened state he scarcely looked older than a pup. We had him micro-chipped and temporarily signed over to us and started the journey back into town. Apparently, Archie doesn’t much care for car rides. He was carsick for the first time all over the back seat, and the second time (very skilfully) in a strategically-placed plastic bag. The poor little mutt could hardly stop shaking and was so happy when we arrived and his feet finally touched solid ground that he promptly peed all over the floor.

After a few hours of getting used to our place and a nice meal in his belly, Archie started to show a bit of his personality, jumping from couch to couch and sneaking in little cuddles here and there. Like Jasper, that night Archie managed to wriggle his way between us as we slept, his bum in the air and his head under the pillow.

Great progress
It’s been a week now and the scared little pup is all but gone, replaced with a playful, cheeky and affectionate dog who thinks he is a person. Archie’s favourite pastime is jumping onto the seat of the couch the millisecond before you’re about to sit down, and attempting to burrow himself underneath you. He has a cheeky grin and the unique habit of putting his front paws around your neck and cuddling you like a chimp.

He’s still getting the knack of toilet training, as he seems never to have been taught. It breaks our hearts every time we have to reprimand him, because past experience has obviously taught him that stern words are often accompanied by a blow. Because of this, we’re just trying to establish a regular toileting routine for him and he’s responding well… fewer and fewer accidents each day!

Today was the first day I let him off-leash in the dog park and though I held my breath as he encountered his first doggy pal (which, of course, as luck would have it, turned out to be a giant, barrel-chested Boxer), I needn’t have worried. Archie got on famously with the huge pooch, who for his part was as gentle as could be.

The pleasure Archie takes in learning new things each day and running in the park with other dogs is incredible. To watch him grow in confidence makes me simultaneously happy that life’s good for him now, and furious that another human once made it otherwise for him.

Images by foxypar4 and kretyen