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I Became a Foster Angel​

by Kristine Murtz​​

 

I came to the realization that I’ll need to have another dog around in order to survive when Blazer passes. He’s almost 13, and probably has a few years to go, but the thought of losing him makes me want to crawl into a hole and never come out. I decided to look for a companion for both Blazer and I - a “transition” dog, as some people pointed out. I visited “Parker,” a supposed lab/spaniel mix, black and white. After meeting the special guy, I decided I couldn’t provide the time he needed; he’d be crated a good chunk of the day.

 

A few days later, an adorable little Pitbull/mix puppy was posted on Facebook. It said something along the lines of, “must be taken before 10:00 AM Thursday or he will be put to sleep.” THIS was my introduction to rescue. My friend Erica is part of a group called Secondhand Snoots. I added Snoots as a “friend” on Facebook, having no idea what I was getting myself into. It was Wednesday. I couldn’t stand to see a perfectly good dog be put to sleep. Elliot was 8 months old, deaf, and looked just like Petey from Our Gang. Crap. “I need a puppy like I need a hole in the head, but this little guy doesn’t deserve to die.” And there it started. I told Erica that I’d take him. I hastily demanded he be held until we could pick him up. I was even going to leave work to go get him all the way down in Kankakee.

 

The wonderful people at the Kankakee County Shelter (aka “K3″) held him until the Snoots president, Cher, could pick him up on Saturday. This was the same day as the Snoots fundraiser garage sale. My roommate at the time, thank goodness, went with it. Poor girl, she had no idea what she was getting into, either! In I dove…head first.

 

It was a warm Saturday night in July. I left a baby shower early and drove up to Erica’s house in Gurnee, about an hour away. What was this dog going to be like? I’ve always said I didn’t want the responsibility of having a Pitbull or bully breed, although I love them…what would his temperament like? How much discrimination would I have to deal with on the part of neighbors and other people? How would he be with Blazer? How the heck was I going to train a deaf dog? All these questions didn’t matter when I saw the little rascal. The big brown spot around his beautiful hazel eye melted my heart. His other eye had a brown ”eybrow” over it that made him look like Groucho Marx. He had the biggest, floppiest, pinkest ears. And he smelled like puppy.

 

Elliot crashed in the backseat as soon as I closed the door. Little did I know, doggies who 

are tired from transport tend to do this, and their personalities don’t show until they've 

walked in your door! My neighbor came by and helped me while I brought Blazer 

out to meet him in “neutral” territory. She helped me set up his crate and bring in all his

paraphernalia. He slept like a rock through the night. THAT night…

 

I lost count of how many nights I didn’t sleep, or slept with my hand in his crate so he’d feel safe and be quiet. I didn’t want to keep everyone else in the neighborhood awake. This puppy thought the world was his, and the apartment was his own personal jungle gym. He harassed Blazer, chased the cats, knocked stuff over, and shredded his bedding over time. A week after bringing him home, I took him to be neutered. “They” say that’s supposed to calm them down a bit–HA! I picked him up later that afternoon, and it was as if nothing had happened. He was just there for a day of adventure. The vet loved him.

 

Everyone loved him. I ventured to the Pooch Park, and he did surprisingly well–as did the other pet owners. I was concerned that people would be upset for bringing a Pitbull into a dog park. According to Elliot, I’d just brought him to heaven. He was so curious, and so happy to follow all the dogs around. I brought him to my neighbors’ down the street–they have a yard. He could do his Captain Insano run to his heart’s content there. He had buddies to play with, toys to shred, and plenty of places to pee. I was over there more days during the week than not, and then several times a day. Oh Lord, what would I do without those neighbors!

 

I insisted that I would not get attached to “that damn dog.” He’d kept me awake, left bruises and bite marks (puppies aren’t exactly gentle when they play), and most of my energy was dedicated to this dog who completely disrupted my household. Then people started saying things…”looks like he’s already found his forever home!” Nope. Not me. I won’t get attached. Then he seemed to get cuter and his personality really came out. Then he snuggled with me at night. Yes, I let the little booger sleep with me. It was wonderful…two dogs on the bed with me, and an occasional cat that dared venture near the sleeping beast. Someone even told me our eyes were the same color. “Looks like he bonded to you pretty fast!”

 

I went back and forth about whether or not to keep him. Realistically, I couldn’t afford it. But I was falling in love. Just when I started to realize my attachment, someone expressed interest. It was a Saturday when he was taken by Erica for his home visit. 20 minutes after she left their house with him, they called back and said they’d fallen in love, too. We brought him over there on Sunday. It was wonderful to meet the couple that would be taking him into their family–there were toys galore everywhere. He was in heaven! They had just lost their own baby, a handsome (and big) Rottweiler.

 

When Erica and I walked out, Elliot jumped up on the screen door so he could see us, as if to say, “hey, where you guys goin’? Aren’t I supposed to be following you?” We both cried. For about a week prior to his adoption, I realized that adopting him myself would keep me from saving another dog. THAT is what got me through. The weekend of his adoption, another deaf Pitbull/mix needed rescuing from the same shelter. He was already lined up. We would be picking him up 3 days after bringing Elliot to his new home.

 

Erica picked me up and we headed down to Kankakee…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Reprinted with permission from Kristine Murtz, one of Secondhand Snoots Rescue's Foster Angels and Board Members. 

Please do not reprint without the express written permission of Kristine Murtz.)

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