Backlash and flack!

One of my “readers” chose to comment on a post I made about a year ago. This was their comment:

YOUR A VERY SICK WOMAN! GET A JOB YOU NUT! I have no shame in admitting that I have struggled with depression and anxiety. I am a recovering alcoholic. No shame in that. No shame in being an alcoholic. Many people with depression self-medicate. Depression and alcoholism are diseases. Making fun of people with a disease is mean spirited. My depression makes me angry, I can lash out but 99 % of my life is directed by kindness and love. It is my own weaknesses that makes me have compassion for others, especially the weaker souls. The underdogs.
Last year, I quit my job after a very stressful period in my personal life. My world was in crisis mode because of a family member who was also going through a very difficult time. I quit my job for several reasons but mainly so that I could deal with this issue on the home front. CRAZY PYSCHOTIC SELF MEDICATE AGAIN TOOTS YOU NEED IT!”
For someone calling themselves a Doctor you would think they would have more sensitivities to people who are dealing with issues of depression and/or alcoholism. So the Doctor is basically saying that everyone who suffers from depression and/or alcoholism are “CRAZY PYSCHOTIC”(sic)  Is that an official diagnosis Doc?

Foster Mom to the Dogs

It’s been about a year and 7 dogs later and I am starting to get the hang of it. Fostering dogs. My seventh dog, Marcy will be leaving for her new home this Friday. And just like Patrick the miracle dog, Marcy will have a re-birth in her new home on St. Patrick’s Day. Luckily, Marcy never went through what Patrick went through. However, like Patrick, she was a throw-away dog, found as a stray and brought into animal control.

Luckily for me, I was available to foster her as she wasn’t doing very well at the shelter. I was concerned she would be anxious in another strange place but she acclimated almost immediately to our home. She found a place on the couch and relaxed right away. My dog, Ozzie was introduced through the fence and then through a gate in the house. Ozzie tends to be the one who has to have an adjustment period. It usually takes about a day for him to understand that this new dog is here for a while and he might as well get used to it.

Marcy, quickly became Marcella my bella, as she had such a lovely sweet graceful way about her. She is long and lithe like a dancer. She often take stretch breaks that resemble a ballerina warming up. Even Ozzie is a  bit smitten with her. Marcy doesn’t take no for an answer and will give him kisses even if he acts like he doesn’t want anything to do with her.

She is a senior black and brown lab/dobie mix. Sweet as can be and smart. Very lively for a senior and loves everyone.  How anyone could have just let her go I don’t know.

As I prepare to say good-bye, I don’t know how I can do it. I could keep them all. But then, I have to remind myself why I am doing this.  I know I can’t adopt them all, but I can help them on their way to a new home.

I have a soft spot for these seniors and being a foster mom allows me to pamper them and let them enjoy life in a home rather than a kennel where many do not do well.

I still wonder what the dogs think about all of this. I feel as if I am betraying them in that they get attached to our family and then they adopted by another. But I have learned how easily they can adapt when they are treated with love and kindness. And I know that I am not the only one who knows how to love a dog.

Fostering is different than volunteering at the shelter where the dogs come and go more quickly and you don’t have the same day to day relationship with the dog. It’s more personal. They become part of the pattern of your life.

The only thing that balances out the sadness in saying goodbye is how happy they will make another family.

So when the time comes to hand over the leash, I will get one last lick and give  her a big kiss on the head and see her go off to her new life. I know she will be happy but a part of me hopes she misses me just a little.