Whoa ... What's this? A Surprise Teaser?

You have all been so kind to me and have checked out the Facebook Page and "liked" it that I want to thank you and treat you to one last snippet before we release the book. We didn't quite make it to 150 likes but maybe, just maybe an extra piece of the puzzle will encourage the shyer Facebook fans to click that cyber button (please).

"Sometimes I can be a bit naive and my “silver lining” optimism gets the best of me.  This was one of those times.  When the director told me that a breeder wanted to get out of the breeding business and wanted to relinquish her dogs, I was all on board.  I looked up the breed online and discovered how beautiful, energetic and wonderful Bearded Collies were.  I saw pictures of dogs with long, flowing hair.  They were perfectly groomed, at a perfect weight and smiling as they played and bounced with other dogs.

 My husband, who is a bit more of a realist, advised me otherwise.  “No,” he said, “these dogs won’t be like that.  These dogs are probably kept outside all of the time and won’t know anything about being in the house.  They won’t be able to climb the stairs and they probably aren’t housetrained.”

 What did he know?  Before he met me, and before we adopted Andie, he’d never had his own dog for more than a minute.  Besides, even if they were everything he said, we could still housetrain a dog, we could teach it to use the stairs. 

“I don’t know, Shelly.”

It’s no use trying to argue with me when I know I’m right.  I suppose it’s that way with everyone.  I was convinced that the dogs we were receiving from this loving, caring woman from Missouri were cherished babes that she pampered and groomed until they shined like gold.  They were house pets that respected indoor versus outdoor.  They would run and play and frolic in the yard and they would all find homes in a heartbeat.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.


At the time, we worked with a local grooming salon. This was the first point of contact that the fosters had with the dogs.  Here the dogs were bathed, ears cleaned, nails cut before they went to their new temporary homes.

If you look up Bearded Collies on the internet, you will discover that they are called “bouncing Beardies” as they are so full of life and exuberance.  They have beautiful grey and white or brown and white coats that, when properly taken care of, fly in the breeze with every bounce.

The dogs that we met that September night were anything but bouncing Beardies.  They were severely malnourished.  Their beautiful coats had been shaved to the skin because the breeder had not taken care of them.  They were matted and smelly and it was easier to shave the hair than it was to try and brush it out. 

This was just what we saw on the outside of the dogs.  We would discover as time passed that the insides of the dogs were even more damaged than any amount of shaving could have ever done.

There were five dogs in kennels at the salon.  The owner of the salon told us the names that the director had given them and a bit about their personalities.  This one was pretty good, that one had a bad eye, this one is better than the rest, oh, and here, this one is yours.  Yes, she is the most “messed up” of the dogs that came up.  Yup, she’s yours.  Her name is *****.

She opened the kennel door and out stepped the most pathetic looking beast I’d ever seen in my life.  Not that I’m so worldly, because I’m not, but as a lifelong dog person it was heartbreaking to look at this dog.

She scrabbled out of the kennel and across the tile floor of the shop.  It wasn’t so much walking, or running or any sort of locomotion I’d seen a dog perform before.  It was rather like she was some sort of ballet dancer on her tiptoes, but instead of her tiptoes, she was on her nails.  Instead of walking with poise, confidence and grace, she lowered her head, made herself small and travelled like this around the salon.

Eventually she wound up in the shampoo room, under the sanitary sink, with her legs wrapped around the legs of the tub.  My husband went in to get her out.  Later he confessed that that probably wasn’t the greatest idea he’d ever had.  She could have turned on him and ripped his face to shreds."

Oh, darn, something must have gone wrong in the transfer of the document from my flash drive to the Blog. It completely wiped out the dog's name. Awww... now for those of you who know who this naked doggie was, please, shhhhhh. It's supposed to be a teaser. But I think, that if you look really hard, you'll find the dog you're looking for ... (wait for it) somewhere on Facebook.  Check it out - A Foster's Tail is the page. 

Thank you for Reading! Thank you for thinking Rescue!!