Adventures in fostering

Almost 3 weeks ago, I decided to foster a 90 pound 11 month old german shepherd named Kino who was in danger of being euthanized.  I was told that he hadn't received any training and had pretty much spent most of his life alone in the family's backyard.  I didn't quite grasp what that meant until we got home from the shelter.  :-)

Week one:  On top of discovering that he had a raging ear infection that had not been treated, and finding that he was going to fight me with every tooth in his mouth to keep me from getting the medicine in his ears, I found myself having to "correct" him almost every minute of every day.  He wasn't potty trained, he wasn't leash trained, he thought it was OK to put his paws on the stove, the kitchen table and any other place he felt like.  He threw himself into my lap if I tried to eat, he lunged at people when we were out for a walk and every time I tried to get dressed, he assumed that I was inviting him to a game of tug of war when I attempted to put underwear on.  He stepped on my feet fifty times a day and at 90 pounds, it really hurt.  Holy-Moly, I wasn't sure what I had gotten myself into.

Week two:  He stopped having accidents in the house.  He learned to sit and to take a treat from my hand without biting my hand.  When we were out for a walk, he pulled less on the leash and was a little calmer when we encountered people, although he would still yank on the leash to try to greet them.  After only one reminder to leave my food alone, I could eat while he laid calmly at my feet.  He discovered Lucky's toy basket and began letting his playful side emerge.  We still had our challenges though.  He barked and jumped on people who came to the house and started becoming overly protective of the house.  He refused to spit out things he wasn't supposed to have in his mouth and would defiantly swallow them in front of me. Consequently, I repeatedly found my ear plugs as well as the stuffing from almost every toy he ever played with each time I cleaned up poop in the yard.  And still, my friends started placing bets on how long I was going to pretend I was just fostering him.


Week three:  Our communication has greatly improved.  When we are out for a walk, I remind him that it needs to be the person's choice if they want to greet him and he will calmly walk past people who haven't expressed an interest in petting him.  He knows that when I say, "Clean up after yourself" after I've given him an ice cube to munch on, it means he needs to get all the little chunks of ice that he left on the floor.  He doesn't believe me yet when I tell him that we need to allow birds and squirrels in the yard so that's still a work in progress and I still don't know how he would behave with other dogs if he was off leash, so we've still got some work ahead of us.  When we're in the house by ourselves, we are in almost perfect harmony.  He no longer feels the need to "help" with the crossword puzzle by pulling the pen out of my hand and I'm getting dressed now without any "assistance."  I am truly enjoying my new "not-so-little" companion.

and I am still trying to profess that I am merely fostering him.