New Beginnings

Dave and I rescued and fostered and adopted out 25 Labs through Desert Labrador Retriever Rescue. The number would have been 26, but we foster - failed when we adopted Kirby. Now, come on. We got him when he was 6 weeks old, and we couldn't put him out on the Dog-a-Log to be adopted until he was neutered, and we couldn't neuter him until he was 4  or 5 months old. Well, by then, he had wormed his way into our other girls' hearts (and maybe ours, too). This was a puppy who, along with his litter mates, would not have made it alive for another day or two as they were on the side of the highway near Mexico.  He was a puppy, so we had to do all the puppy training (we had had girl dogs for so long, I tried to get Dave to teach Kirby how to lift his leg to pee, to no avail), don't chew up our carpet training, don't chew on your leash if you want to go for a walk, and so on. This puppy who could have died instead grew up to be a handsome boy, who has a bit of Chihuahua, a bit more of Clumber Spaniel, and mostly Lab in him. If I am not feeling great, he will curl up in bed with me all day if I like. It is unimaginable to think about life on this earth without a Kirby (and his siblings, as well). When we go down to the River Park in our neighborhood, he and L.C. (our 4 year old deer-chasing nut of a Lab) are never on a leash anymore. Kirby is FASCINATED with the armadillos. He will chase them until they find one of their "Ho Chi Minh Trail" holes, then look at us like, "What the hell just happened?" He is hilarious.....

Fast forward to about 10 days ago, when I saw that a local rescue organization (which has WAY too many dogs, but they are doing their level best to help get these dogs two walks a day and some play time as well) had a Lab/Great Pyrenees puppy mix. This puppy was the lone survivor of a brutally savage situation, I should warn you that what I'm about to say is really graphic. Hang in there. These pups deserve us hearing tough stuff.  Someone on the south side of San Antonio decided to strangle the two parents (they had decomposed so much in the day before they were found, it was hard to tell the exact breed, but they believe the mom was Lab and the dad was Great Pyrenees). Three puppies were tied to the parents (but not strangled), and the babies were desperately trying to get milk from the deceased mom. You honestly cannot make this stuff up. Three puppies were found alive....only one of them survived. We have her at our house, now. Most of you who know us know that we typically have named our dogs initials (K.C. (Kacie); M.E. (Emmy); L.N. (Ellen); Rudy (an anomaly, but Replacement Unit Dog for K.C.); L.C. (Elsie), etc.). We are simply fostering this survivor pup who is already as tall as L.C. and Kirby and is only 6 months old. We got her in the pick-up to bring her home, and she promptly puked on Dave's Ram....once....twice....thrice. So we decided Ivy was a great name (I.V. stood for I Vomited until we decided she is a true survivor so she is now Ivey because she is "I'm Victorious"). Within a day, this girl who was mopey and moving slowly had commandeered the entire Arneson selection of toys (moving them one at a time from the living room to our bedroom). She was sitting on command. She had never been potty-trained (duh) and she potties on command, now (with a couple of accidents in between). Oh, and what about being on a leash because everyone says she will run off? This girl, Ivy, has been walking at the River Park twice a day since we got her, and she stays with us (we are her "pack") while L.C. chases butterflies and searches for golf balls, and Kirby does what Kirby does. 
What a beautiful new beginning for this beautiful girl! 
Anyone looking for a new roommate? We'd have a hard time giving her up, but this rescue needs people to foster more dogs.  
Just for today, perhaps we should all consider what makes us feel joyful and free. What a blessing we have to be alive and have the freedom to have new beginnings.
Happy Communicating!
Shelly
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