My Rescue Dog (Hospice Dog Adoption) Failure #1

I was unable to endure to the end with my second rescue dog who was supposed to be a hospice dog.

Not only was she not a hospice dog, she was not even a senior, as I discovered from her vet, despite my being told repeatedly by the rescue that she was a senior AND impaired physically, both requirements for my program.

As you can read in the prior post, I take in old dogs that have been given this: "There is nothing more that we can do," from a vet. I bring them in, adopt them, and care for them till they die in my arms so they die knowing they are loved and worthy of love.

I just started this, which I call my Dog Hospice.

But I have to return my second dog.

I don't feel guilty.

I'm writing this to help you avoid a similar mistake if you decide to bring a Hospice dog into your family.

This dog is a beautiful, REALLY beautiful, German Shepherd Dog, and I love her with all my heart, and she loves me. She is easily the best dog I have ever had in my whole life, for love, protection, beauty.

But (and I refuse to place blame):

(1) I was told that she was housebroken. She doesn't even have the first hint of what housebroken means, as it turns out. I tried for a couple of weeks to teach her, as she is so intelligent. I even leave the front door--the whole door!--open 24 hours a day (lucky I live in a safe neighborhood) so that she can step out into the fenced grassy area and do her business. But she won't go out. She makes giant steaming mounds of German Shepherd poo and gallons of pee on my wood floor, several times a day, and at night. I even blocked off the living area and built a little hallway for her using dog gates: 48 inches to the front door. Fail: She does her business in that hallway. She will not go outside.

(2) She attacked my small poodle. He was standing still not even looking at her, and she started biting him and slammed her paw down in the middle of his spine. I was never told she would attack small dogs, unprovoked.

(3) She goes wild with vicious barking, snarling, growling, rearing up, and threatening toward anyone outside of our yard. I was NEVER told she did this. In our County Ordinance (read yours online before you adopt), this defines her as a "dangerous dog" -- the threatening behavior, even without attack. One incident and she is supposed to be quarantined for 10 days. Second incident (of just the threatening behavior!) and she is PUT DOWN. I am required to report any incident. I didn't report it. But I laid awake the night after her first and second attempts to perhaps kill some people, and sweated out: what if her leash had broken? What if her collar had slipped off? What if my small hand couldn't hold back this powerful huge animal? What if a child had come up behind her and she turned on the child? What if I hadn't known she was vicious and had walked her in a public place and she had maimed or killed a passing dog? I WAS NEVER TOLD THIS ABOUT HER. I feel that I should have been informed. This is a life and death situation. I could never live if she maimed a child or anyone or killed or maimed someone's dog. Not to mention, I would be liable for one hell of a lawsuit AND could go to prison for 20 years for manslaughter by proxy. Yes. This is the position I was put into by relying on the person who sold her to me.

(4) She is NOT A SENIOR. I was told she was. In fact, she is only 7, as it turns out.

(5) She is not IMPAIRED. I was told she was crippled by bone disease. She is not.

(6) She is not a Hospice dog with a short time to live, nor a dog for whom vets "have done everything that can be done." She is perfectly well. Bounds around, plays, runs.

(7) She is wildly destructive in a house. She shredded all of my other dogs' toys, and then went into my closet and started pulling out my clothes and shoes and destroying them when I was out of the room only for minutes. And this is not for lack of exercise. I walk her briskly 45 minutes twice a day.

(8) I have never left her in the house, while I went out, except one time for 3 hours. I left her in her crate, with a pillow, a dog bed and a soft blanket and water. When I got home, she had urinated all over everything in the crate, perhaps out of anger. I had to clean all of that up and wash all of that, AND wash her, covered with urine. I felt I should have been warned that when I leave her in her crate, leave nothing else in there. I guess I'd still have to clean HER up, of urine and feces, and clean out the whole crate.

(9) She can RAPIDLY chew through a leash, and did so. Luckily it was inside before we went on our walk. What if she had done that in a public place and then attacked?

Well, those aren't even all that she does, but here is the take-away:

When you don't know the foster parent of the dog, you cannot just take their word. Write out each of these behaviors with a box next to it. State that if the dog fits any of these behaviors, the dog will be picked up within 48 hours by the foster person. Then have the foster parent initial each paragraph stating that they have not informed you that the dog is capable of this behavior.

Meanwhile, my first Hospice dog, Annie, a gorgeous purebred Brittany (spaniel), is the real deal. Five inoperable broken ribs from a human beating. Brain damage and an inoperable lump on her skull. Inability to breathe without a struggle. Deaf. Almost blind. Obedient, sweet, gentle, desires to please, 100% housebroken and will wear a diaper if that ever fails due to her VERY compliant nature. Never barks. Sleeps most of the time. Friendly to the other dogs. A treasure. A precious treasure.

Annie is what you want when you look for a Hospice dog.

And if you think about it, you probably have room for just ONE! If everyone took just one, no dog would spend its last year in misery and pain, unloved, unwanted, sleeping on concrete inside a fence, with no one person to call her own.

Consider an Annie.