Confessions of a { well on the way to crazy} foster mom

There are times when Kahlua and Midnight together, strike a deal and do everything in their pawower to make me question my sanity at the separate times I brought them home. Pick your jaw up, I am human too. No doubt, I love them and would sell blood, kidneys, lungs etc  before I’d let them miss a meal, but damn these two menaces, and their eight various sized and colored paws that find and push all my buttons.


{Foster} Ma, we is wuv you. (Photo courtesy Karan Mehra)

It’s no secret that the big guy hates his leash walks. Combine his butt-parking with little girl’s disposition to be possessed by squirrels, humans, other dogs, mosquitoes and flies,  and it is a walk from hell we are talking about. The big guy was born with a reservoir of super glue in his butt and the little girl is some sort of mutant who can jump 6 feet in the air without needing a run up.

I can be a jealous girl. I look around at people all around me who did not decide to own wild beasts and can go for a meal after work, or drinks, or can just take off on vacation, or can sleep in if they wish to, or go for a run without worrying about being splinched, or retain their sanity in general. And I’m jealous. When I adopted the K man, I gave up all those rights. And ordinary me would say, ” but I gained so much more”. But today’s post is not about being a dog loving yogi. It’s about being human. It’s about today, where they want to make me tear my hair out.

I started documenting my current woes in an excel sheet. Yep, I’m that girl – a jealous, excel sheet making, ready to pull my hair out, strung out on coffee, girl. Against each woe, I put down what I am going to do to make it a non-woe. 50% of items on the list were about the pups. I don’t blame them (well…) but many were to do with how to partition time and training between my foster and my real one. I caught myself thinking about how much drama they bring into my life. And how that excel sheet would be severely diminished if it weren’t for them.

I need to find Midnight the best home possible. And everyday I see her cuddling up to Kahlua. He is her comfort zone. I am her comfort zone. Our little home, everyday is becoming a little more of her little home. I see adoptions all around me, and everyday I wonder what I am doing wrong – why is little girl not finding her perfect home ? Where is little girl’s human ?

One set of paws was enough for the longest time. It still is. But I went against everything that is rational and took on Midnight because look at that face.


Foster Ma, I is not like the looks of that injection.

Also someone once said something about when the universe gives you a challenge, it also gives you the strength to deal with it. Damn it universe, I need some extra hair, or a freakin time turner so I can do this!

Anyway, I needed to just say all of this. Because the most committed dog loving people (and I proudly say I am one of those) have bad days too. Like, real bad. Dealing with all walks of life – work, home and canine, takes a lot out of one person. And I admire all the people around me who are in this boat – you know, the one with the hole that one of your perma or foster dogs dug in an unintentional attempt to make it sink, and then looked SO happy with the piece in their mouth and tail wagging.

And usually apart from the general weakness that comes from being human and not canine, if there is this much madness, it is the human that is doing something wrong. Hence the excel sheet. And I know this will get better. The puppy-mania will go away.

I will love both of them with everything I have… but tomorrow. Today, is for whining.



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