Early February I wrote about our foray into the world of fostering. Specifically, offering a decompression home for a dog from Afghanistan, one of the group that were transported out of Kabul in a massive rescue event involving many different agencies and individuals.
Turns out the one dog became two, a bonded pair. Because our heads were listening to our hearts and our hearts were ignoring our heads we happily bounced with this idea, self assured in our own abilities that two dogs wouldn’t be any more effort than one. Confident in our experiences of previously sharing our space with two absolute nutters of the canine persuasion , we were not too phased by the thought of a second foster dog. So there we are, set up for the win with the ‘bright eyed feel good aren’t we wonderful’ attitude of blissful human ignorance.
Foster, we smugly thought, easy peasy. A couple of weeks, maybe three and they would have their forever homes and we would sweep up the dog hair, have a glass of wine and feel ever so special about the tiny bit we did in making it all happen.
It didn’t quite work out that way.
So let me introduce you to The Toots, so called as on arrival their paperwork stated one to be Toot, the other Toot Surkh. And to Team Toot, the amazing group of friends who rallied around and got us through some really tough times and helped these two Afghan dogs adjust to a hugely different way of life.
The Toots arrived exhausted, shut down, and overwhelmed. They barely moved for three days, quiet as could be and sleeping heavily. Toot Surkh needed to be carried through the door into our home, her fear of entering a building overriding her desire to stay close to Toot. It took a few days before she was able to muster up the courage to come through the door on her own. She felt the same way about vehicles.
Neither dog understood the comfort of soft bedding…until they did, and then both could have given a certain Princess a run for her money in The Princess and the Pea story as they developed a taste for multiple beds stacked one upon the other.
The initial few days of fostering were pretty mellow. Not a woof, not a grumble, nothing but soft liquid brown eyes and cautious bodies curving into our world, inviting scratches behind the ears and belly rubs. Amazing, we thought, way easier than we had expected…
The first big challenge came on the realization that I was not physically capable of walking both dogs together. No longer exhausted, their strength and complete lack of lead knowledge had me flying through the air, arms being stretched in opposite directions on more than one ocassion. My reaction times for letting go the leads were slow and I would get bounced along the ground until my rattled brain would finally register what was happening. By then I would be chewing a mouthful of dirt, would have lost a boot, have one arm longer than seemed natural and be somewhat winded. No fault of the dogs, just plain bad planning on my part. I mean squirrels, basically anything that moved, I had not considered in the equation of rambling with the hounds whilst clutching two leads, each with a forty pound missile of sinew and speed on the other end. I am not a big woman, it didn’t take much to have me airborne! I kind of wish there was photographic evidence of these ignominious moments because it must have looked hilarious.
I can almost hear your thoughts on this…
Why the hell didn’t I walk one dog at a time? Honestly, it’s not rocket science is it?
Neither dog was comfortable being walked without the other so this obvious solution was not an option. They had already been through so much it just didn’t seem kind to force them apart at this point of their decompression. They needed time to adjust and process all the changes they were experiencing.
And thus, Team Toot came into being. A stalwart group of friends rallied around and set up a walking and training schedule so the Toots could go out exploring and do Toot things always as a pair. Brilliant.
The Toots soon became Toot and Oba. Oba, formally known as Toot Surkh, had a love for water that seemed insatiable and her enthusiasm for flinging herself belly first into the ditches, puddles or ponds that are a part of our winter landscape here provided her with much enjoyment.
The meaning of Oba in Pashto is water, haste, exigency. It seemed the perfect fit for her.
And Toot, which translates to mulberry, fits her to perfection. Sweet, gentle old soul.
The second challenge, and one that proved to be insurmountable, was Oba’s distress over any loud noises. Living in a woodworking shop, it quickly became apparent that Oba was experiencing extreme panic and fear of any machinery sounds. We really have no idea of what any rescued dog has endured, and coming from a war torn country brings a whole extra layer of complications. All work ceased while we tried to figure out how to manage this factor.
Once again, Team Toot proved to be an amazing resource as the Toots would be collected for a romp outside, regardless of the inclement weather allowing Thomas at least a few minutes here and there throughout the day to plane wood, use the band saw, table saws, drill press.
The third challenge was our own reduced emotional resources. Sadly, within days of The Toots arrival, my father went into a rapid decline and all sense of time, peace and coping mechanisms went to hell in a hand basket. Stretched way too thin on every level, neither Thomas nor I could have managed any of this business without Team Toot.
Meals would suddenly appear in the kitchen, a bottle of beer in the fridge, the Toots would be whizzed off for a ramble, new dog toys would be dropped by the gate…the unstoppable kindness and care afforded to both the Toots and to us was truly amazing. Our gratitude is endless.
The day finally arrived when we had to relinguish The Toots back to the rescue organization responsible for them. Not through any fault of the dogs, but due to our own limitations of what we could manage. And our ignorance. We have learned a lot from The Toots and equally, from Team Toot.
Although this ending is a tad abrupt, the story doesn’t conclude here! As I finish typing, Toot is snoring gently beside me, paws outstretched and her favourite stuffy tucked under her chin. Oba found her forever home in Vancouver and Toot is back with us.
One dog. We got this.
‘Til the next time, kristine
thanks for this Kristine, a very lovely piece. Rescue dogs are very different as I found out with Dulce. They are a challenge but so worth it, they end up being the best of the best!!
All the best to you and Toots!!
Oh Kristine, I absolutely adored this! The way you describe the two distinct personalities, the reliance they have on each other, the lessons you learned. And the stunning photos! It all brought tears to my eyes, especially when I read that adorable Toot is now with you. Yes, heartbreaking to split them up, but they will both be loved. Life with a dog is the most precious thing. My favourite beating heart in the world is behind me on the couch right now--my beautiful little rescue from Alabama. He's been with me for nearly 12 years and I feel blessed each and every day.