Chester Salley

October 15, 2011

Pulled: Friday October 14, 2011 from City of Columbia Animal Shelter

Adoption commitment: None; still available

Meet Chester S squared:

I’m always thrilled when I follow my system of naming fosters (chester + SC town/city/county, alphabetically) AND, in doing so, I get to name the foster after someone. There is a town in SC named Salley. Who knew? And, I just happen to have had a great great Aunt Sally who I adored as a child. So I smile whenever I say Salley’s name.

Sweet Salley, a Yorkshire Terrier, was surrendered to our local kill shelter by a couple who had recently birthed a baby. “No dogs around the infant,” they said, “time to give away Miami.” SIGH. — both for the couples’ unwillingness to commit to both pet and infant, and for the name Miami, which doesn’t suit at all.

Here’s another photo. I told Salley that her hair was in her eye in the previous photo. So, I brushed it back, and we tried again.

Ah well. Salley was terrified in the shelter, and, though she was relieved to walk through my door, she ran from room to room, looking for the owners who had abandoned her. Yet again, an example of a dog showing more devotion than a human. She didn’t find them, but she found Arina, and spent the afternoon curled up on her lap, snuggling.

So, I feel sorry for the couples’ child, who has been deprived of a lap warmer. True, infants have no need of lap warmers, but Salley is only 2-3 years, so the child would have grown into her.

And I’m reminded of the time we introduced our mini-dachshunds, Emma and Mr. Knightley, to Jack. My doula had sent a baby blanket, with Jack’s scent, with my mother, days ahead of our arrival. So they were ready. “Do you want to see the baby?” we asked, on the day we got home from the hospital. They jumped around, excited, seeming to think that “baby” was some kind of treat. — or a new blanket at the least. Knightly, who is taller than Emma, jumped up on his own to sniff and see.

Then, we helped Emma.

Both accepted Jack as a member of the pack immediately, and then they got a dog bone each, proving that babies are treats indeed.

And what did Scott say about Salley? He went straight to the backyard when he got home from work, to cut the grass. I walked outside holding her.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. “You look great.”

“Thanks!” I said, while thinking, “WOW. This is going really well. I must really look good today.”

“Why are you smiling?” he asked.

“I’m just so glad you’re not mad at me!” I said.

“For what?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Um . . . for this,” I said holding out Salley.

He confessed that he thought I was holding Lexi, a Norfolk Terrier (also available for adoption) that one of my friends is fostering for me. Scott knows Lexi and knew that we would be puppy-sitting her for a couple of days. Is it just me or do Salley and Lexi look nothing alike?

I’m now convinced of what I’ve always suspected: I could have TWICE the number of fosters that I have, as long as the first set looks somewhat similar to the second. Scott will just think he’s seeing the same ones over and over again.

Wonderfully, though, ALL of the Fisk fosters at our house, except for Salley, are committed to forever homes or rescue:

(1) Gertie went to her new home on Thursday. She’s going to be living it up with another 10+ female senior in North Carolina. — the canine version of The Golden Girls.

(2) Quinby will be going to her new home with the Dachshund Rescue of North America tomorrow. I’m hoping they’ll make her a therapy dog.

(3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8 ) And Edisto, Ravenel, and Abbie Faith’s pups will be New York bound this Friday to a fabulous weekend adoption event. *Fingers crossed* for them all; if they don’t find homes this weekend, they’ll go to foster homes in NY and wait for the next big adoption event.

So, really, it’s like I currently had no fosters when I picked up Salley. At least, that’s how I explained it to Scott. And Salley is snuggled up with him as I type, so it must have worked.

Let me know if you’d be interested in adopting sweet Salley! She’s up-to-date on vaccinations, spayed and micro-chipped. And, she’s house-trained. She’s great with people of all shapes and sizes, though my friend Lisa, who puppy-sat her briefly, said that she’ll try to be alpha-dog. She started bossing Pepper (previous Fisk foster York) almost as soon as she walked through the door.

She has since tried to boss Quinby (below), but quickly realized that she’s no match for a cyborg wiener dog and desisted. Smart girl, Salley.

Calling All Puppy-Sitters

October 12, 2011

This weekend, Scott and the kids and I will be spending time with family in Charleston. Scott’s sister and her family will be visiting from Texas. Hurrah for mini-breaks! Hurrah for visiting family!

As you might imagine, though, the pet-sitting bill for a foster home full of dogs is . . . well . . . pricey: $25.00 per visit for 3-4 dogs x 3 visits = $100.

We’ll be taking Quinby, of course, because (1) she’s our handicapable dachshund; and (2) Mrs. Fisk LOVES dachshunds and anything that Scott makes. So, we know she’ll be a huge fan of Quinby and her fabulous chair.

Mom and Dad will be puppy-sitting Emma and Mr. Knightley. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

So, that leaves:

(1) Edisto:

In true Edisto fashion, poor E. keeps missing the bus to New York. Last week, there was no room for him. So, we put his racing cap and sunshades aside for another week. But, today I found out from Whitney that there won’t be a bus this weekend. That means that a very disappointed Edisto will be here another week. He may get a little cheerier if he has another less-glamorous-than-NY but still fun place to visit this weekend.

(2) Elloree:

Elloree would enjoy spending the weekend: eating, cuddling, and playing. And then playing some more. And some more. Elloree, if you haven’t figured it out yet, has a lot of energy. She may look chill in the photo, above, but don’t let her fool you. She’s trying to figure out how to swing.

(3) Hilda:

Like her sister, Hilda likes to play. Unfortunately for your pants, Hilda’s favorite game is tugging. — on anything she can get her teeth on. So, make sure that your pants are belted. Pajama pants with elastic waistbands are no-nos around Hilda, unless you’re carrying her. But, really: how can you stay mad at that half-white/half-red face.

(4) Ravenel:

Ravenel will be your best friend as soon as she meets you. She’s our newest addition. I had a momentary scare when I came home right after getting her and realized, small girl that she is, she had squeezed under the front gate. (We’ve since fixed that.) However, she was just sitting there, waiting for me to get home, and was content to follow me back inside. She’s a good, sweet and friendly girl.

(5) And, finally, Lexie:

Normally, friend and colleague Sandra fosters Lexie, but she’s going out of town this weekend too. I’m surprised that I’ve had NO emails of interest about adopting Lexie. — especially since she’s the most well-behaved of the pack! If I were the one offering to puppy-sit, I’d choose Lexie. I can’t promise that E. won’t lift his leg to urine mark (though I’ll send his wrap with him), nor can I promise that the pups won’t have potty accidents (though I’ll send wee wee pads with them). BUT, I’ll bet you $10 that Lexie will be among the most perfect, well-mannered house guests you’ve ever had. — canine or human.

Let me know if you’d be willing to puppy-sit any of the above for us, from around Friday afternoon till Sunday afternoon. We’ll happily pay you in baked goods (which Scott will bake, since we want them to be edible). Plus, we promise to return the puppy-sitting favor, no baked goods required. After all, what’s one more dog at our house?

“Where’s Gertie?” you ask. She’s going to her new home tomorrow! Yay for FrankenGert! And, no, I have not yet fainted while administering the salve. — though I’ve not yet really administered it either. I close my eyes and squirt it. Thank goodness it’s of a runnier consistency that Neosporin.


October 8, 2011

One of my sweet fosters, Chester P squared, or Gertie Powdersville had to have surgery on Friday.

Those of you who have been reading my blog will remember that she is one of two seniors I pulled for Middle Mutts. Those of you who haven’t will be all caught up after reading this post:

Gertie had an FHO today: a Femoral Head Ostectomy. This will hopefully alleviate the pain in her left hip, caused by some sort of unknown trauma. We suspect she was hit by a car at some point between losing her owner and arriving at the shelter from which Middle Mutts pulled her.

She’s an old girl at 10-11 years, but she’s been doing great since surgery. Me: not so much. Here’s why.

From the front, Gertie looks exactly like she did before surgery! See her in the backyard, only a few hours ago, smiling as though she had been at the dog park or the puppy bakery rather than the animal hospital.

Here’s Gertie from her good side.

And . . . here’s Gertie from her not-so-good side:

A little background info about me:

Senior year. I was editor of the school yearbook, and was consumed with it, as I am with anything I set my mind to, whether it’s a yearbook, or a young Scott who is totally-uninterested-in-Nicole, or foster dogs. I attack it/him/them with reckless abandon.

As high school seniors, we were required to participate in Career Day. I was the last person to sign up to visit a local business/organization.

“What are you still doing here?” one of my teachers asked.

“My career is going to be in yearbooks,” I said, pulling out my cropping ruler to set up  a page. “I’m observing myself working on our yearbook. Great idea, huh?” — although Mrs. Dorn, the yearbook director, was all for it, the rest of the teachers weren’t. So, I half-hardheartedly scanned the list of businesses willing to open their doors, and set off for the local veterinary clinic.

I had no interest whatsoever in being a vet but thought if I had to go somewhere, at least I could see and spend time with cute animals.

I walked in and met the vet. “So, you’re interested in being a veterinarian!” she said, beaming. “Uh huh,” I lied, not wanting to hurt her feelings, since she seemed excited.

She walked me straight back to surgery, where she was working on a dog that had been hit by a car. I politely excused myself, went outside, and lost my breakfast.

Seeing Gertie made me very nearly lose my lunch. The bright red wounds. The medicated smell. The stitches. — old fashioned and huge, the kind that don’t dissolve but must be removed in 2 weeks.

She’s FrankenGert.

Yes, I had to lie down after this photo shoot. And I had to lie down again after reading in her post-op instructions that I will be applying salve to her wounds twice a day. — starting tomorrow.

It’s you and me, FrankenGert. Let’s do this. /shudder

Chester Ravenel

October 8, 2011

Pulled: Friday October 7th, 2011 from Barbara Knight

Rescue commitment: Friday October 21, 2011 by Last Chance Animal Rescue

Meet Chester Ravenel, foster #44.

Scott has been on a business trip in Wisconsin since Tuesday. I picked him up at the airport last night.

Me: “So, we have the SAME number of foster dogs that we had when you left.”

Scott: “GOOD.”

Me: “We have a new one, though.”

Scott: “WHAT?!”

He was fine, when I explained that (1) Chester Bradley, one of Abbie Faith’s pups, was adopted (Yay for Bradley!); and (2) I got a phone call from Barbara, someone near my hometown, asking me to take in a stray.

Apparently, Ravenel wandered into Barbara’s friend’s yard and was being picked on by her other dogs. “We don’t want to take her to the local shelter, which is a kill shelter, but we also don’t want her to get hurt here,” Barbara explained.

“I’ll take her,” I said. “Of course!”

As you can see (above), Ravenel is a pretty girl, who seems to be part Golden Retriever. Arina was thrilled, since she says that she was missing Bradley (below), and that Ravenel looks like him, only bigger.

Well . . . bigger and a lot less wrinkly. But, because Ravenel is a 4-6 months pup versus a 2-3 month pup, Jack ADORES her. The 2-3 month pups are a bit too rambunctious for him now. Plus, Ravenel seems to be more of a Thomas the Train fan than the younger ones, and is content to watch Jack play for extended periods of time.

She interrupts the play only occasionally to give her favorite train conductor a kiss.

And Jack returns her affection by letting her lick the cinnamon and sugar, from his favorite Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal, off his hands.

So, don’t worry about Ravenel, Barbara. She’s in good hands. Literally. And thanks for your donation towards her vetting! I thought I would have to use the money donated by my fabulous friend, Elizabeth and my fabulous cousin, Jill for that, but your donation will cover the spay and the shots.

Now I can tuck Elizabeth’s and Jill’s donations away for future fosters Chesters S and T squared. But, that will be our secret.

Shh. Don’t tell Scott . . .

The Fisk Fosters Enjoy Fall. And Quinby Uses the Toilet.

October 2, 2011

Poor Quinby. The vet warned us that because of Q’s injury, she may not be able to tell when she has to go to the bathroom. Scott and I still haven’t decided whether she knows or not. True, she often hops over to us and whines right before she goes, but that may be because she’s hopping over to us ALL THE TIME. — to be petted, to be fed a treat, to be given a toy.

So, to prevent cleaning up after Q’s “accidents,” we’ve been putting her in doggie diapers. To start with, we were paying $15 for a pack of 15. Yes. Doggie diapers are $1.00 apiece. Then, I figured out that Jack and Quinby wear EXACTLY the same size in diapers, so they’ve since been sharing, and I’ve been cutting out the hole for Q’s tail myself.

Q is not impressed.

She’s decided that she prefers to use the toilet. Scott and I watched a youtube video in which the owner of a handicapped dachshund enthusiastically described how she takes her handicapped dachshund “to potty.” Basically, she holds her over the toilet, pokes her in the bladder, and the dog goes in the toilet. “It’s easier than when she wasn’t handicapped, and I had to walk her and pooper-scoop!” she gushed.

So, we decided to try it. I held Q over the toilet, poked her where I imagined her bladder would be, and she went. Hooray for Q!

To celebrate, we went outside to enjoy the Fall day, but we had to snap this photo before going outside. See, below, Uncle Edisto and the pups, enjoying a Sunday afternoon nap:

Once outside, Q was all smiles:

Gertie ran up to greet us:

And, then, we were all mobbed by the pups:

Yes. In the photo, below, Bradley appears to be winking.

Of all the pups, B is the most fascinated with Aunt Q’s wheels and is always begging her for a ride . . .

. . . whereas Elloree, normally the go-getter of the group, hung back on the kids’ swing, unsure. Unsure, but awfully cute.

And Hilda, the smart one, decided to stay out of trouble and hang with Arina instead. — which may not be that smart, since trouble seems to find A. whether she’s at home or at school.

Finally, Arina decided to rescue Quinby by cuddling Bradley . . .

. . . and then cuddling Hilda, who needed it, because I had just washed her face, after noticing it was dirty in the photo, above.

Quinby, pup free at last! To celebrate, she strikes her most impressive pose. I’m sure she’s pretending she saw a squirrel. She’s pretending, because if she really saw a squirrel, she’d be using her wheels to run him over.

Seriously. We pup-sat for my parents this weekend. Joe and Harley were standing at one end of the hallway, Q at the other. She growled once before taking off. They scattered like bowling pins. Things were dicey, until they realized that they could get away from her by climbing the stairs.

Q’s next goal is to learn how to climb stairs. She can come down them in her chair but hasn’t quite mastered how to climb them. She already knows how to use a toilet, though, so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.

Another Memorable Mishap: Jack Feeds the “Pup Pups”

October 2, 2011

I decided to post a more cheerful memorable mishap than the last. My last lesson learned: just because dogs are good with other cat-sized dogs does NOT mean that they are equally good with cat-sized . . . cats. *sigh*

This happier memorable mishap involves Jack; foster dog Harley, Emma and Mr. Knightley; and stinky wet dog food.

I was sitting at my work desk, happily typing, and thankful that Jack was entertaining himself and not interrupting me. Then I smelled something stinky.

See Jack, with the stinkiest wet dog food we could find; if you remember, we were following Whitney’s instructions: stinky wet dog food + sick pup = sick pup eating. I had spooned out a bit for Fairfax and had forgotten to put away the can with the leftovers. I left it on the counter. Jack had apparently grown an inch taller overnight and was able to reach it.

He had left a breadcrumb trail of wet dog food on the floor. He had smeared it into the kiddie table. Clearly, he knows in this photo that he’s busted.

After I got the shot, I tried to coax the dog food and spoon out of his hand: “Come on, Jack,” I said sweetly, “just give me the pup pup food.” He squealed, ran to the kitchen, and plopped down on the floor.

Enter Mr. Knightley, and Harley:

This causes Jack to declare triumphantly that, yes, he WILL feed the pup pups, who are clearly hungry.

So, I thought “what the hell?” and snapped away. Jack took his job very seriously.

Below: He takes inventory and sees that he has more pups to feed than dog food left in the can. — too bad that he had already fed most of it to the kiddie table. Still he does what he can.

One scoop for Harley:

Uh oh. An empty can and more pups to feed . . .

So, Jack decides to let Emma lick the can:

And, then, of course, Knightley must get a lick too:

The results of this memorable mishap: a tabletop mess for me to clean (thankfully, the dogs took care of the wet dog food trail on the floor), a house that smells stinky, overly stuffed dogs, and a very satisfied-with-himself toddler.

Lessons learned: Make sure to put the stinky wet dog food out of the growing toddler’s reach.

Also: Life is messy. Life is fun.

Abbie Faith, Edisto and Kincaid: New York Bound! and an unfortunately memorable mishap

October 1, 2011

Yes! Chester Edisto the Wonder Dog will be hitting the Big Apple. I’m making an effort, at least, to honor my part of the “I’ll-get-you-a-car-if-you-start-fostering-like-a-normal-person” bargain with Scott.

So, the fabulous Last Chance Animal Rescue has agreed to feature Edisto and Kincaid, in addition to the dogs I was fostering for them (Abbie Faith and the pups) at their weekend adoption event on October 8th and 9th. My LCAR friend, Whitney, thinks that Edisto will be adopted immediately, because apparently people in NY are “crazy about Beagles.” It must be a Snoopy thing.

But anyone who is not adopted will be taken to a foster home in NY until the next weekend adoption event. And, yes, these adoption events are every week.

So, I have a week to get the pups spayed or neutered and to teach E. how not to be such a Goober.

As for Abbie Faith and Kincaid . . . well, they got out of the fence. We were surprised, since E. has always broken them out before. Because of the invisible fence, and E.’s shock collar that is connected to it, he’s been uninterested in all things fence related. All was well, for about a week.

Then, either Abbie Faith or Kincaid took matters into their own paws, and broke themselves out, without Edisto. They came back, so we were annoyed, but not worried. Scott repaired the fence. He put the shock collar on Kincaid, instead of Edisto.

“Kincaid, I’m going to light up your ass,” he said, and then pointed at Abbie Faith: “And you’re next.”

We went inside, we went outside . . . and they were gone again! Kincaid was shocked BUT KEPT ON GOING.

This wouldn’t be as much of a problem if they were just running around in the also fenced-in 11-acre walking trail behind us (we share a fence with the walking trail, so they SHOULD get out of our fence, only to be in another fence), or visiting with our neighbors who are fond of them, like we *thought* they were doing. True, one time Abbie Faith came back into our yard, pushing in a bag of trash she had stolen. But, well, we didn’t think the owners would miss it much.

But, on Thursday, we found out from people in Yorkshire, the next neighborhood over, that they had been terrorizing the neighborhood CATS! — and not just any cats, but two neighboring Senior cats: one, a deaf and blind 15-year-old named SAD FACE for God’s sake. (I suppose younger cats are too fast and too nimble for them).


We were shocked and upset, since I always tell the rescue and shelter coordinators that I can only foster dogs that are good with kids and small animals. — and by small animals, I mean not only my cat-sized mini-dachshunds but also cats and guinea pigs and anything else small that you can think of, since I never discount the possibility that I may come across something non-canine that needs Fisk fostering.

Seriously, the following guinea pig was featured on Middle Mutts recently, and I was <this> close. Scott said “NO!” Luckily, she was rescued by someone else:

I called Whitney in a panic, and she is paying to board Abbie Faith and Kincaid until they’re NY ready. So, I dropped them off at a boarding kennel yesterday. Abbie Faith was thrilled to be away from the pups. Kincaid tried to lick all the dogs in the neighboring kennels. And we (along with our incredibly patient and generous Yorkshire friends, and all the sweet Yorkshire cats) are relieved that we no longer have to worry about canine fence-capades.

I assured my new friends in Yorkshire that my goal is to do good, not harm, that I will NOT save one animal to harm another, and that unless we get a new fence made out of Kryptonite, I will hence forth only foster small dogs.  — dogs who, if brought face-to-face with a cat, will come out worse for it. (Example: Quincy the Wonder Cat vs. Emma the Mini-Dachshund = a squealing Emma with a scratched face.)

Or crippled dogs, whose “worst” would be running over a foot or tail:

As penance, I told Abbie Faith and Kincaid that they must chip-in to Middle Mutts: Operation Feline Freedom, which saves shelter cats from euthanasia.


I also thought of fostering cats from the local kill shelter, but, since I’m allergic, Mr. Davenport (Sad Face’s owner) told me not to do that.

So, I’ll close with a note to the misbehaving duo:

Dear Abbie Faith and Kincaid,

It’s been real. Best of luck in NY. And, PLEASE, be nice to the cats. — ESPECIALLY the Seniors, who are especially delicate. You need to respect your elders, damn-it (and not just the canine/human ones).


Your Foster Mom

Current available fosters, as of 9-24-2011

September 25, 2011

1) Chester Edisto, the Wonder Dog: a 2 year old male Beagle

Pulled: Thursday June 2, 2011 from local rescue

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, neutered, microchipped, and on heartworm/flea preventative.

To read more about E., visit:

Just make sure you go to the oldest entry and start reading there, because E. is tagged in A LOT of posts.

I thought a local rescue was reclaiming E., but I think they changed their mind. 😉

Update: Rescued! Friday October 21, 2001 by Last Chance Animal Rescue

2) Chester Abbie Faith, the Mama Dog: a 2 year old female Pit Bull mix

Pulled: Wednesday August 10, 2011 from the Marlboro County Animal Shelter/Middle Mutts

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm positive (undergoing treatment), spay scheduled, and on flea preventative.

To read more about A squared, visit:

Abbie Faith and her pups have a rescue commitment in New York, but, if I find a home for them here, we’ll send other needy dogs in their place.

Abbie Faith loves to be loved. And, now that her pups are weaned, she has only one request: a home, free of pups.

Update: Rescued! Friday October 21, 2011 by Dog Tags

3) Chester Duncan, the Laid Back Pup: a 6 week old male Pit Bull mix

Pulled, in utero: Wednesday August 10, 2011 from the Marlboro County Animal Shelter/Middle Mutts

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, neuter scheduled.

To read more about D squared, visit:

Duncan is the laid back pup of the group, who LOVES his naps. Some friends came over to see the puppies. Duncan came to say “hi,” but then managed to sneak off. When we found him, he was snoozing in Arina’s playhouse. Too cute.

Update: Rescued! Friday October 21, 2011 by Dog Tags

4) Chester Elloree, the Go-Getter Pup: a 6 week old female Pit Bull mix

Pulled, in utero: Wednesday August 10, 2011 from the Marlboro County Animal Shelter/Middle Mutts

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, spay scheduled.

To read more about E squared, visit:

Elloree is the go-getter of the group, so she’s also the chubbiest, which is unsurprising. — since she “goes and gets” the food.

Update: Rescued! Friday October 21, 2011 by Dog Tags

5) Chester Fairfax, the Sweet Pup: a 6 week old male Pit Bull mix

Pulled, in utero: Wednesday August 10, 2011 from the Marlboro County Animal Shelter/Middle Mutts

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, neuter scheduled.

To read more about F squared, visit:

My new friend Trina took this photo of Chester Fairfax. She’s fostering both Duncan and Fairfax for me. You’ll see Duncan on the right, no doubt looking for a place to nap. Seriously. Here’s the next photo Trina sent:

Fairfax, on the other hand, would much rather be staring at his person with puppy dog eyes, begging for a cuddle. I’m sure Trina obliged.

Update: Rescued! Friday October 21, 2011 by Dog Tags

6) Chester Hilda, the Smart Pup: a 6 week old female Pit Bull mix

Pulled, in utero: Wednesday August 10, 2011 from the Marlboro County Animal Shelter/Middle Mutts

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, spay scheduled.

To read more about H squared, visit:

Hilda is always the first pup to figure things out. She figured out how to push the playhouse door open, letting out herself and all of her siblings when we were trying to contain them. She figured out how to climb stairs and immediately climbed the stairs on the wood deck and stole the adult dogs’ food.

Hilda is just like her Uncle Edisto. *sigh*

Update: Rescued! Friday October 21, 2011 by Dog Tags

7) Chester Kincaid, an 8-month old male Pit Bull/Basset Hound mix

Pulled: Thursday August 25, 2011 from City of Columbia Animal Shelter

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, neutered, microchipped, and on heartworm/flea preventative.

To read more about K squared, visit:

Kincaid loves toys, and takes equal delight in playing with and destroying them. And he loves kisses. And pretty much everything else you can think of.

Update: Rescued! Saturday October 16, 2011 by Nuts for Mutts

8 ) Chester Lexie, a 1 year old female Norfolk Terrier

Pulled: Friday September 2, 2011 from City of Columbia Animal Shelter

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, spayed, microchipped, and on heartworm/flea preventative.

To read more about L squared, visit:

Friend and colleague Sandra is fostering Lexie and reports that she’s never had such an affectionate dog. And I’m guessing that she’s never had a dog with such pretty eyes either.

9) Chester McBee, a 4 month old male Rat Terrier

Pulled: Saturday September 3, 2011 from Melissa Ann McLaughlin-lein

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, neutered scheduled, and on heartworm/flea preventative.

To read more about M squared, visit:

Friend and colleague John is fostering Mac, nicknamed Roo, and reports that he is the easiest foster of the three he’s had to date. That’s mainly because Roo thinks he’s a human, so he doesn’t like any of those doggie thinks like leashes and obligatory walks. He would rather run outside off leash, use the bathroom, and run back to jump on the couch. Actually, he’d probably rather use the toilet, but he hasn’t figured that out yet.

10) Chester North, a 3 year old male Shih-tez, or maybe a Tibetan Spaniel

Pulled: Monday September 12, 2011 from City of Columbia Animal Shelter

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, neutered, microchipped, and on heartworm/flea preventative.

To read more about N squared, visit:

My mother is fostering North, nicknamed Harley, for me. Yay for Mom! She reports that he is a loving, playful little guy. And that he prances.

Update: Adopted! Friday October 21, 2011 by Frank and Dianne Plyler

11) Chester G. Olar, a 6 year old male Beagle

Pulled: Friday September 16, 2011 from Marlboro County Animal Shelter/Middle Mutts

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm positive (undergoing treatment), neutered, and on flea preventative.

To read more about O squared, visit:

Poor Olar, nicknamed George. He looks so much older than he is that I aged him to be 10-11 originally, like Gertie. We noticed that he seemed awfully spry for such an old man, though. He LOVES to eat and has a definite pep to his step.

Then we found out from his eye doctor that he’s only 6 or 7. Oops. Now that his cherry eyes have been fixed (those two red bulges in the corner of each eye), he looks much younger. He still has the ulcer in the left one, an old scar, but that’s okay. I think we should get him a patch and pretend he’s a pirate.

He’s being fostered in Charlotte by a wonderful family. They adore Beagles and George met them and his two Beagle foster brothers today.

Update: Adopted! Monday October 17, 2011 by Jacq McConkey

12) Chester G. Powdersville, a 10-11 year old Collie (?) mix

Pulled: Saturday September 17, 2011 from Scotland County Humane Society/Middle Mutts

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, spayed, and on heartworm/flea preventative.

To read more about P squared, visit:

To be honest, I have no idea what sort of dog Powdersville, nicknamed Gertie, is. Because her thick, luxurious fur reminds me of a Collie, I’m going to say Collie. — although I would be interested to hear any guesses.

What I do know is that she’s a super sweet old girl who is curled up at my feet while I type, snoozing away.

Update: Adopted! Thursday October 13, 2011 by

13) Chester Quinby, a 5 year old Miniature Dachshund

Up-to-date on vaccinations, heartworm negative, and on heartworm/flea preventative.

To read more about Q squared, visit:

We adore Quinby. She’s sweet. She’s happy. She’s one tough pup. And, now that she’s on wheels . . . look out world.

Quinby didn’t just try to jump in the video. She did jump.

My favorite comment about Quinby: I introduced her on facebook and friend and colleague Chris gave her a big thumbs up, and then explained:

“I will always ‘like’ cyborg weiner dogs.”

Me too, Chris. Me too.

Update: Rescued! Sunday October 16, 2011 by Dachshund Rescue of North America


If you, or if anyone you know, is interested in adopting any of the current Fisk Fosters, send me a message!

Quinby gets a new ride. And I do too!

September 24, 2011

Today, Scott is awesome, because he made a wheelchair for new foster Quinby.

Parts include: 1 doggie harness, which we had; 2 wheels from an old umbrella stroller, which we had; unused velco car seat strap padding, which we had; 2 velcro straps from an old pair of Arina’s knee pads, which we had; lightweight aluminum piping and bolts, which we bought.

At first, Quinby wasn’t too sure . . .

. . . but, once outside, she learned how great doggie wheelchairs really are.

She ran from one side of the yard to the other, standing at attention whenever she heard a noise she thought merited investigation.

And then she’d investigate. I took so many photos, but most of them are blurry. Finally, I managed to get her to hold still by holding her.

And she indulged me by posing for a profile shot.

Well done, Scott! And S. is doubly awesome, because he got me a new ride too. — a 2011 Honda Element! This was the first (and probably the only time in our lives) when we drove a car out of the showroom, but the Element at Midlands Honda had all of the dog friendly accessories that we couldn’t resist.

We managed to get a good deal, because (1) the car is orange, and we pointed out to the salesman that no one in Gamecock Country will buy an orange car with a dog paw emblem that could be mistaken for a Clemson tiger paw (my plan is to get a big Gamecock sticker for the back window, by the way); and (2) who else would want dog bone floor mats, seat covers with dog heads, and a custom built dog kennel in the back? No one but me.

We had been looking at cars for awhile, since we outgrew the little Toyota Corolla we bought pre-kids by 2 more people and a pack full of dogs. The Element is perfect for us.

BUT, before Scott signed the papers, he asked that I slow down a bit. I agreed, since he said, “Maybe only three fosters at a time.” Originally, his rule was one. He pointed out that getting this car would make me slow down. The Toyota was paid off; the Honda . . . um . . . is not. And, even with the generous donations I’ve received so far, I’m nowhere near the amount I’ve put into pulling and vetting.

Still, I’m super excited and you can see that I’ve been putting the new ride to good use. The pups approve.

As for the latest foster, rescued post new car and when we’re already past our 3 fosters-at-a-time limit . . . well, Scott says that we’ll make an exception for Quinby.

Chester Quinby

September 24, 2011

Pulled: Thursday September 22, 2011 from City of Columbia Animal Shelter

Rescue commitment: Sunday October 16, 2011 by Dachshund Rescue of North America

Meet Chester Q, squared. There is only one “Q” town in SC (my system of naming fosters), but since it’s a name I like, I’m going to have more than one Quinby foster. Q2 is a very special Quinby.

She is a 5-year old paralyzed mini-dachshund. I didn’t intend to get a dog on Thursday. I was at the animal shelter to pick up Kincaid, not to get another dog. In fact, I made a deal with Scott (that I’ll write about soon), and part of the deal is to slow down with the fostering.

I was in a different section of the animal shelter than I normally visit, the lost and found/relinquishment part of the shelter, rather than the adoption part, waiting for one of the shelter workers to bring me Kincaid.

A man walked in with Quinby.

Me: “Oh, you have a mini-dachshund! I have two at home!” [See our Mr. Knightley and Emma in the photo below.]

Man: “Yes.”

Me, noticing her back legs: “Oh no. What happened?”

Man: “I don’t know. She was already crippled in one leg. Then, she got into a fight with another dog, I guess. She’s suffering. Time to put her down.”

Me: “How old is she?”

Man: “Five.”

I looked at Quinby. She was using her two front legs to crawl around on the floor. She kept crawling to the man, trembling and whining. I kept expecting him to pick her up and comfort her, but he either ignored her or told her to sit still. To me, her suffering seemed to be more emotional than physical.

Emma is seven and Knightley is six. I looked at her and saw a slightly younger Knightley looking back at me.

“I’ll take her,” I said quietly, not sure how the people at the lost and found/relinquishment desk would react. I explained that I work with rescues, some of which focus on dogs with disabilities.

The man looked at me in surprise. “Okay. Yeah. I’d rather give her to you than euthanize her if you think you can help.”

One of the shelter workers overheard us and told us that we’d have to go outside “to talk about that.” So, we did. Once outside, the man confessed that Quinby didn’t get into a dog fight, that she was “run over” two weeks ago.

He didn’t take her to the vet after it happened. She was infested with fleas, and her nails look like they’ve never been cut. She looks like she’s had litters of puppies, and I wonder if the man was breeding her to sell the pups.

He had cared enough to wrap her most injured leg, but he hadn’t changed the wrapping in two weeks, so Quinby smelled like rotting flesh.

When I walked in holding Quinby, my mother and grandmother, who were visiting, assumed she was Knightly. — until I put her on the floor.

I immediately launched into an explanation and concluded by saying “Maybe she’ll have to be euthanized, but she at least deserves a vet visit. And to be rid of fleas. And to have a good meal and to be treated nicely before she dies.”

They didn’t argue. And my sweet grandmother slipped me a hundred dollars to pay for her vet visit.

Mom and I took her to our vet, Dr. Currie, who prescribed steroids and antibiotics but doesn’t hold out hope that she’ll regain feeling in her legs. Still, the vet tech said that Quinby was trying to wag her tail when I was speaking to her. Dr. Currie agreed that Quinby’s young and strong and isn’t in pain, so that helping her is worth an effort.

The effort hasn’t been quite what I’d expected it to be. — but in a good way. I put her outside when I got home, and she escaped from the fence. Being so small, she managed to slip under the front gate.

I saw her out my window, went to get her, and realized how quickly she can hop on her two front legs. Every time I almost had her, she’d hop under a car. When I finally got back with her, I was wet and muddy from what was left of an earlier rainstorm.

Mom: “What happened to you?”

Me: “The handicapped dog got away from me.”

Mom: “She only has two legs!”

Me: “Two legs that are faster than mine.”

And before the end of the day, she had climbed the stairs on the wood deck (how, I don’t know) AND escaped from the fence AGAIN. The second time, Miriam, my next door neighbor, and I chased her all the way down the street.



Finally, though, I think she’s realized that she doesn’t have to run away, that I’m not going to take her back to the shelter, or back to be poked and prodded by the vet (at least not immediately). Instead, she gets a nice bed, a dog bone, and a purple hippo. And, Scott’s working on her doggie wheelchair as I type.

And, in return, we get a big smile.

Favorite moment so far? Yesterday, Edisto jumped off the picnic table onto Kincaid. He did so accidentally, but Kincaid was startled from his nap, and attacked Edisto in retribution. The result: Ed has a scratch on one of his legs.

E. refused to eat, insisted on sleeping/pouting in the armchair upstairs, and came down at one point for sympathy, lifting his leg (the wrong one, that wasn’t scratched, by the way) for us to see.

Quinby hopped in the room, dragging her back legs behind her, and flashed a big doggie grin.

Ed looked at her legs, looked at his, and went back upstairs.

Good girl, Quinby.