‘Together, we’ve shared a lot of love’ March 20, 2025

I became a dog walker for the Humane Society when my family lost our dog. My parents were ready to be done with pets, but I’d grown up around countless animals all my life and wasn’t ready. I participated in a volunteer day here during high school, which I loved, so becoming a dog walker was the next natural step. I did that for a number of years starting in 2009, then heard there was a need for foster parents. They provide all the supplies and you just provide the love; this arrangement was acceptable to my parents (so long as I knew we weren’t keeping any dogs), so I began fostering dogs in summer or fall 2012.

I still remember showing up to pick up my first dog – no idea what breed to expect – and out they come with a big ol’ English Pointer named Phez. It was an adventure getting him home; he kept trying to climb over the kennel between the seats to crawl into my lap. I remember my parents’ eyes getting wide when they saw their new houseguest; we’d only ever had small or medium dogs. We were supposed to keep Phez quiet while he waited for heartworm test results, but he was a young dog and wanted to play. The funniest thing he could do, with his long lanky legs, was to get on our couch by standing next to it and just slipping up one leg and scooching it onto the couch, then doing it with the others. You wouldn’t see him jump or anything, and all of sudden, he’d be lying on the couch happy as a clam. He was also my introduction to reverse sneezing in dogs. I remember hearing him in the middle of the night from his kennel downstairs, making a truly horrible sound. Since I was fostering him for heartworm concerns and had never experienced this phenomenon before, I called NHS very worried and they were good at explaining the condition and setting my mind at ease. Just about had a heart attack when I heard him gasping and choking like that though!

After him, we got Lois Lane, the puppy mill breeder dachshund. She was an overweight, adorable little dog, who absolutely loved my dad. He’d always wanted a dachshund, so when one week turned into a month as we waited for various labwork for her to come back, that’s when they started talking about adopting another dog and how it wouldn’t be too bad… They had firmly been done, but I noticed their resolve weakening here. She did go back eventually, though, after brightening our days for a cheerful month.

My third, and currently final, foster dog was James, the Miniature Poodle or Bichon Frise or mix. He had come in as a stray a little over a year old, in truly wretched condition judging from his intake papers’ description. They had to sedate him, completely shave him down – his fur was so matted, and pull a few teeth. He was a little, pink, currently hairless nine-pound dog with a super curly snail tail. He was also terrified, especially of books and shoes. But you also could just look at him and he would flee the room. He needed fostering for fear and socialization issues, so I got some behavior training from NHS and did my best to win him over with a quiet, peaceful, loving home. I remember finding myself getting attached to him but knowing he needed to find a good home, and it didn’t make logical sense for me at the time. I didn’t know where I would be living, what school or career I’d be doing, and I didn’t have steady income to provide for him. But he decided I was his person and he became attached to me and trusted me. He didn’t really like anyone else, but he came to tolerate my parents and siblings. I remember taking him into the shelter one Sunday morning before church for an adoption event. I couldn’t stay with him, but another lady watched him. I cried after dropping him off, and I remember deciding I’d consider adopting him if he was still there after the event. I arrived back at the event and didn’t see him at first, but he was in a different area than when I dropped him off. I saw him, with a cute little red and green collar (it was just before Christmas), and when he saw me, he lit up and began jumping and wiggling and dancing on his back legs. The lady watching him then said “You must be his foster mom, huh? He hasn’t been like that for anyone else here.”

I remember the event was close to wrapping up and a family came to look at him. I shared what I knew of him and tried to make him sound like a great choice, though inwardly I hoped they didn’t like him at all. The event ended, but we were told we had to wait as everyone finished filling out paperwork for any dogs they were interested in adopting. Waiting there, holding him, hoping and fearing to hear he’d been chosen, we finally got the all clear. He would come home with me again!

Both the lady watching him and the event coordinator had suggested I adopt him while we were talking that morning, but I was still struggling with the expense and if it made the best sense for him too. But I needed to get his nails trimmed while he was there, an event he hated that involved towels and at least two techs and myself to accomplish. We managed to get it done, but even while trimming his nails, the techs told me I should adopt him. When I mentioned the adoption fee being prohibitive, they said “Oh! Foster parents who adopt, that fee is waived!”

After feeling so sad leaving him at the event and saying I’d think about adopting him if he was still there, to no less than four people all asking me and telling me I should, to then hearing the fee was waived, I felt like it was meant to be. When my parents told me I could and they agreed once we came home that day, the last reasons were gone. I adopted my adorable little puppy on Dec. 23, 2012, and we celebrated twelve years together this Christmas.

Unfortunately for the Humane Society, as soon as I had adopted my rescue puppy, now he got all my walking and training and playing and loving and care. I’m afraid I stopped dog walking and fostering for a number of years as I cared for Sir James Fagan Wigglesby (as he came to be named), though we did attend a dog training class together to help him learn manners and tricks. He’s such a smart dog, and very food motivated, which helps! We’ve had to keep a careful watch on him because he is clever. He will make a mental note of any food and where you’ve left it, but he won’t go for it right away. But as soon as you leave the room unattended, he’ll be on the table or climbing the couch to get to the muffins or candy. I guess his food snitching skills kept him alive on the streets, so I’m glad he has them, but he’s definitely tried to make off with plenty of goodies over the years! While he never did come around to enjoying children or boisterous people, he did accept my husband and most of the adult family and friends I know. While he’s always had a bit of that fear or anxiety from his troubled puppyhood, I think together we’ve shared a lot of love and he has had a good home with me.

I’m grateful that we have such a great humane society in Nebraska here. I’ve personally seen a bunch of caring and generous people who love animals and endeavor to give them the best possible lives, both in the shelter with medical care, training, enrichment, love, and personalized “marketing” to help them find homes. Their low cost spay/neuter clinics, dog food pantry, educational classes, and community engagement helps to ensure good lives for all the pets in the metro area, and I know they’ve helped reunite a number of lost animals with their owners. I am proud to support them and their work, and so glad they helped me have animal companionship in my life when I really needed it. I’m not ready to say goodbye to my dog yet, even as he is a senior dog now with some medical challenges, but I know when I am mourning him, I will have a good place to turn when I’m ready to love on some more dogs.

-Stephanie

(11/150)