JUNE 15, 2020
Everyone, please help me welcome Pistachio, the sweetest, gentlest soul that has ever come into this “orphanage.”
Based on his demeanor and appearance, it is obvious that this sweet guy has been to hell and back. He comes to me emaciated and with awfully itchy mange. He is scared and skittish, but loves affection. I don’t know if he’s ever known it. He is FOUR AND A HALF.
Today he came home and found that his new foster mom set him up his own safe space. I cooked him a special dinner and the babies got to share a little salmon and rice for being nice greeters and roommates. We all went for a walk after dinner so Lenny and Ellen could show him how it’s done and also how to find these delicacies called cat turds. I don’t know if it was Pistachio’s first walk, but he sure did enjoy it and he sniffed a lot. He seems to have found some confidence in being around the loons. He’s asleep on the futon with Lenny’s paw on his balls right now.
He’ll get his meds and special baths and all the things I can do for him medically, but my most important job is to love him gently; it’s to show him what a dog’s life SHOULD be; it’s to show him that humans aren’t all bad. He’s skin and bones. Petting him hurts my heart, but as I run my hands over his pitiful little body, I remind him that he’s got me now, and from here on out he’s living the good life.
He’ll get his meds and special baths and all the things I can do for him medically, but my most important job is to love him gently; it’s to show him what a dog’s life SHOULD be; it’s to show him that humans aren’t all bad. He’s skin and bones. Petting him hurts my heart, but as I run my hands over his pitiful little body, I remind him that he’s got me now, and from here on out he’s living the good life.
JUNE 17, 2020
Although I set up 2 crates so he’d have a safe place to call his own, Pistachio has claimed the futon.
Who am I to say what feels safe? So I got him some fresh sheets and showed him how to use a pillow.
JUNE 21, 2020
My mom and my aunt came to snuggle kittens, but Pistachio said, “I too am fond of futon snuggles!”
JUNE 22, 2020
It’s been a week since Pistachio came into my life, and I am so glad he’s here. It’s taken time and patience but he’s starting to trust us, and he feels confident amongst the pack.
My guess is that in his former life Pistachio hadn’t lived inside or received much doting, if any at all. One of the things he’s learning in foster care is what it means to be a proper dog. He took one look at the good life and seems to be happy and eager to say goodbye to the old way of things.
His eyes are less sad, and he doesn’t cower quite as much. He’s eating a lot and his fur is starting to grow back. His skin is less angry and he approaches us for love. He’s learning that proper dogs don’t lift their leg in the house, but in his defense, he still has his balls and he probably never had to hold it.
He has decided, however, that he’d rather sleep with the pack at night, and due to the aforementioned leg lifting situation, he has found himself happy in his crate next to the mom’s side of the bed.
So far his favorite things seem to be: going for walks, getting so many pets, pillows, and pup cups (you know you can’t induct a skinny orphan without a trip to get a pup cup!)
My ol’ grinchy heart grew three sizes this week watching Pistachio come to life.
PS see comments for a dapper Pistachio wearing his very own new collar.
JUNE 24, 2020
Pistachio: level expert at stealing my spot.
JUNE 26, 2020
Guess who is probably going to sleep on the futon with her foster so he doesn’t have to wear the cone… PS Sorry if this is offensive. It’s after 8 on a Friday and I’ve switched my PC filter off.
JUNE 27, 2020
JUNE 29, 2020
My Perfect Pistachio has been healing from his neuter and enjoying being back with his pack. He’s going to be ready for adoption soon and it’s time to start taking meet and greets.
Pistachio is an exquisite being who changed me. All my fosters leave their mark on me in some way, but Pistachio is what I consider my first real rescue. I have taken care of sick puppies, but you don’t look into a puppy’s eyes and see a soul that has been starved for love and connection and nourishment for years.
Puppies haven’t had time to know the hardships of life yet, and if I had my way, they never would. But Pistachio (at 4.5 years old) didn’t get so lucky, and he came to me with a sadness that was palpable. He was far too skinny and petting him was like touching a skeleton. He was scared of everything and everyone. Sometimes he wouldn’t even walk.
But my two babies rolled out the red carpet and accepted him as a member of the pack fairly quickly. Pistachio found safety and confidence inside the pack, and since then I’ve gotten to watch him discover all the joys of being loved and wanted. Ellen and Lenny have also taught him how to be spoiled along with a few bad habits, so oops, the incessant licking faces thing was learned here. He also likes to chase the kittens thanks to Ellen.
It has been my absolute honor to have Pistachio in my life. He looks at me in a certain way and I know that I am his special person. He goes where I go. He snuggles. He asks for love when he needs it (all the time!) and he knows he must sit before he eats. He loves walks and hikes and parks and pup cups and car rides and steamed salmon, but most of all, Pistachio wants to please you. He wants to make you happy despite what humans did to him. Because he’s a dog, and they set a pretty damn good example about what it means to love unconditionally.
Pistachio needs a home that is as perfect as he is. He needs a home with another dog to help him acclimate and feel safe. He needs humans who love him and are obviously glad he’s there. He needs a pillow, and he needs you to clean his ears out when they get twitchy!
Along with his dapper bow tie collar and whatever else I buy him before he leaves, whoever adopts Pistachio will be receiving a chunk of my heart, so please, come meet us…
…After I get the results of your criminal background check, your driving record, 3 forms of ID, and a certified letter promising me that if he isn’t 100% happy, you’ll bring him back immediately.
JUNE 30, 2020
Ask and you shall receive!
Pistachio has found the most fan-freaking-tastic forever family, complete with a SISTER they call Peanut. Pistachio and Peanut? Does it get any more perfect than that?!
The two were fast friends, and it filled my heart with so much joy to watch them run around and play together in Pistachio’s new yard. Will put a little video in the comments.
I could not be more grateful to Pistachio’s new family, and I look forward to watching him blossom in his new life. I know for certain that he will be spoiled rotten and loved beyond measure. His new mom has texted and said he’s already claimed a few pillows, and he was sleeping in his new dad’s lap after I left. Glad he’s using skills learned at the orphanage. They’ll serve him well.
Happy tails, my boy. I will never stop loving you, and you’ll be in my heart for always.
JANUARY, 2021
I got a message from Pistachio’s mom this morning! It was full of pictures and videos and an update on the best boy who ever lived. He’s doing really well – loves going for walks, snuggling, hanging out with his sister, and now he’s playing with toys! This is a big step for a formerly mentally “broken” dog and a great show of confidence, which he lacked when I first met him.
Pistachio came home when COVID was in its relative infancy and my own mental health was in the shitter. When the pandemic hit, my newer part-time job suddenly became full-time, and I had to take a hiatus from my regular job and the people who loved and looked out for me there. I was tired and drained all the time. Since my whopper of a foster fail with Lenny and Ellen, I had only been taking feline fosters, but I even stopped doing that as I was absolutely depleted. My soul was dyyyyying.
I signed up to do an intake shift at the rescue one Saturday. That’s when we, well, take in new animals from rural shelter partners, unload and triage/treat all the 4 legged friends going out to foster. Fortuitously, it was I who unloaded the most pitiful, sad, and frightened dog from the transport van. He had all but given up. He cowered in the presence of humans, peed out of fear, and wouldn’t even stand up all the way, so I carried him. His name was Pistachio and I looked in his eyes and said, “hey buddy, I know exactly how you feel.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about him after I left that day, and when his skin scrape came back negative, I went and retrieved him at once. I didn’t know how it would go. I’d been working hard on Lenny and Ellen and ensured they were well socialized, etc., but Pistachio was the true test for this orphanage because Pistachio was the first dog we fostered as a pack. My goons did me so proud when they welcomed him in gently and immediately. Little mama Ellen took to task making sure he always knew how much we loved having him here. He felt more confident in the pack setting, and started to warm up. I watched him come back to life. We had therapy sessions sitting quietly in the peaceful darkness of the puppy room late at night. He has a wisdom that only comes from enduring the worst life has to offer—one that my dogs will never attain, and no animal should have to
I thought I was helping him, but the whole time he was saving me. It’s been said that healing is not a process between the wounded and the healer, but a process of two equals. I can say with all certainty that Pistachio and I are both better for him having come here. I will keep this friendship for always, tucked away as cherished memories and life lessons that I carry with me as I go about my days. I don’t have words to describe how much that dog means to me, but you should know that I cannot see at a picture of him without getting choked up as I look into his eyes and see an angel on the earth who arrived not a moment too soon.
When it came time to decide whether to put him up for adoption, ugh, it was the pits. He fit in so well here. He was happy. I was happy. I cried a river over it, I’m not going to lie. What’s uglier than ugly crying? Because I did that.
But I could see that my pack was ready and able to foster, and we could help a lot of dogs like Pistachio. When I let go, I dedicated myself and committed all of us to helping all of the Pistachios.
He led us to Pearl, and Pip, Harlem, and Mikey, …..and…. RIO – who, let’s face it – if anyone needs a permanent bed here, it is RIO!
I think about Pistachio all the time and he will forever have a very special place in the most special spot in my heart. I am grateful to his humans and canine sibling who gave him a spectacular home and pack. He was meant to reside in their forever story, but I sure am glad he made a pitstop in mine. And, if anyone was going to get to adopt my guardian angel, I am elated it was they.
A few highlights from the pics I received today.
I LOVE YOU, PISTACHIO!!
JUNE 30, 2021
Today is a special day.
At approximately this time one year ago, I took my beloved Pistachio to meet the people (and dog!) who would become his furever family.
It was unusual because I typically do all meet-and-greets and adoptions at my house. But Pistachio was different. He came here with a broken soul and eyes full of sorrow. He was itchy and scared and far too skinny. And I was in the throes of several woes, and my soul needed fixing too.
And in the comfort of peaceful darkness, we sat together, night after night, and we helped each other through.
When the time came, I requested the meet and greet occur at their house in this instance because I wanted to be able to ease the transition by escorting my boy into what would be his new home. I was his only friend in the world and he trusted me to never fail him because that is what I promised him. And when I left him that day, we locked eyes as I began to back down the driveway, and I wished all my wishes for him as he watched from the window until I was out of sight. I drove away knowing for sure I hadn’t failed him because he was meant to be there, and his humans are exceptional. He definitely “leveled up”.
And that brings me to the second unique point about his meet-and-greet: it almost didn’t happen. I believe his family originally fell in love when they found him online, but then felt it was poor timing due to vacations and such, so they opted not to meet him…until they found my blog, that is. I had just posted his adoption bio, and lo and behold, they read it and reconsidered! That’s right — my writing finally convinced someone! Pistachio is the only adoption I know of that was influenced by my storytelling, which is hilarious, but also why I keep doing it — I might just write another story that speaks to just the right people.
Happy Gotcha Day to my heart, my greatest friend, (formerly) my Pistachio; and to his entire family who have allowed me to keep my promise to the angel who was only a temporary figure in my life, but a permanent one in theirs.
February 20, 2023
Sometimes I omit pieces of stories that don’t seem necessary or pertinent at the time of writing, but later something happens to change my mind.
I received another Amazon love note yesterday. It read, “in honor of my grand pup Pistachio you fostered a couple years ago. He’s such a sweetie! Thanks for all you do for the orphans!”
*GULP*
*Palpitations*
Confession: The hardest, best, and most dichotomous decision I ever made as a foster mom was to put Pistachio up for adoption.
I met him in 2020 in the back of a transport van, fresh from a shithole situation, and he was the saddest soul I’d ever felt. I was magnetized. He was so scared, so timid, so broken by mankind, Pistachio wouldn’t even walk. I lifted him from the crate and carried him to the grass where he shrunk himself to appear as small as he felt, crawling and peeing uncontrollably. His skin was red and itchy and missing its fur.
For me, it was love at first sight.
My own spirit was heavy at the time. Lenny and Ellen were still young and I’d been fostering sick kittens, but Pistachio ‘spoke’ to me and I signed up to foster my first canine after taking a hiatus to raise two puppies.
I had crates set up in various places so Pistachio could choose his safe space; naturally he picked the futon, so I made it extra snuggly and sat with him there, often in the stillness of the night.
Pistachio blossomed here. His skin cleared. His eyes lightened up as did his heart. He stood taller; Lenny and Ellen were kind and accepting and helpful. We established trust and I promised to protect him; that he’d never again feel so small, and that life has much to offer.
I was serious about it, and while Pistachio did soften my heart, imagining what he must have endured ignited a fire in my soul that continues to burn for all dogs who know suffering because of a human.
When he was cleared for adoption, I drug my feet to list Pistachio as “available” while I struggled with the decision not to foster fail…again.
I ugly cried on the kitchen floor about the thought of letting go of this innocent, resilient, gentle soul; this perfect dog who came and helped me too. Didn’t I owe it to him to let him stay in the safety of Crazy Town? To protect him forever?
That meltdown forced me to get serious about my future as a foster mom, and in the midst of my emotional turmoil, I knew that if I continued to keep all the dogs, I’d have to quit bringing them home. I resolved that if could say goodbye to Pistachio, I could handle anything animal rescue threw at me.
His family made it easy to let go, beautiful even, and his grandma sent over homemade frozen treats ahead of our visit. I left in an empty car while Pistachio joined Peanut as her bona fide brother. It was the first of many meet and greets I’d conduct outside of Crazy Town (NO, not to judge their house—have you SEEN Crazy Town?!!) because my car always, always, always leads to safety, to love; home.
You don’t get to keep every soulmate, Pistachio taught me. Sometimes they come to heal us, save us, inspire us; sometimes they come to teach, to change our perspective, to show us our purpose and then move along to their own destiny.
Pistachio did all of that for me, and then some. And when I opened the package his grandma sent years later, appropriately in the same location as the meltdown that solidified my commitment to rescue, only now can I see that nearly all roads in this foster program lead back to a promise I made to Pistachio.