Meet Miss Della Street.

I've been struggling the past two weeks with the idea that "life goes on". Honestly, I thought if anyone said that to me I might punch them. For me the idea of life going on equals forgetting. In my head I know that's not true, but telling it to my irrational heart is another matter entirely.

But the night before we lost Preacher I got a new foster puppy. A six week old pit bull baby we named Della Street (I've been on a huge Perry Mason run lately). Because I was scheduled to leave for an art show in Kansas early the next morning Della went to stay with my best friend until I got home. Needless to say the I didn't end up leaving town...but bringing a puppy into the house was difficult to wrap my brain around. I think Tom was feeling the same way though we were both having trouble putting words to our thoughts. But after about a week we decided to give it a go.

I'm not gonna lie, it's been a challenge. At first I had zero bonding going on. Oddly I think I kind of resented her. I know that is awful, but it's honest. I feel terrible about it now, but you never know how you are going to process things like this and while I wish I would have felt different, it is what it is.
As you can see I have gotten past the walls I had built up with this puppy. I've totally bonded with her, I adore her, and I've found some peace in cuddling with her and talking to her while she sleeps. The other night we laid in bed and I told her all about Preacher. I explained to her that she has the potential to be someone's Preacher...to make a family as happy as he made us. It's an amazing thing really, the potential life for this little thing. She has it in her to make someone's life feel whole, to be a part of a family, to be loved more than life itself, to be the end-all-be-all in someone's world. Just like Preacher was for us. It's all right there in that tiny six pound body.

An even dozen.

I was looking at the scrolling photos of my dogs the other day - the ones here on my blog, the little thing-a-ma-bob off to the right that scrolls through various photos - and I was noticing how many of the pictures are of them in costumes or clothes. I immediately felt the need to tell everyone that we are NOT those people! We don't typically dress the dogs up. But I suppose on the rare occasions when we do we feel the need to capture it on film! Anyway, if made ME feel the need to show you how truly dignified my dogs REALLY are, sans clothing.

When Tom and I helped co-found Blue Dog Rescue almost 10 years ago we had two dogs. Seven and Preacher. A very reasonable number of dogs. But over the years of fostering some just seemed to stay. We certainly never meant to have 12 dogs. But that's where we're at. And we adore each and every one of them. We have probably fostered 200+ dogs over the years so I like to tell people that keeping 10 out of 200 is not so bad!

Anyway, here they are, in order of arrival, the loves of our lives:

Seven.

We adopted Seven from the local Humane Society in 1998. She is the absolute love of our life. She's the Princess and knows it!

Preacher.
The Big Man. If you've read my blog before then you've heard all about him over the past month. He is a sweet, gentle soul who loves every single person he ever meets.

Ozilinne.

Ozo. Our very first foster and maybe the big glaring sign that we shouldn't foster because we'd want to keep them all. But thank goodness we didn't pay attention to the sign. Ozo has the happy-go-lucky of his Golden Retriever part and the independence of his Chow part. EVERYONE loves Ozo.

Clarence.

This little man is the love of MY life. He has soooo much personality rolled up into his little chihuahua/dachshund body. He's a little gangsta and considers himself The King. I have his paw print tattooed on my foot so that he walks with me wherever I go.

Pasqual.

The Notorious P.I.G. When we were fostering him and took him to adoption days kids would tell their parents that we had a pig for adoption! Pasqual was the first pit bull in Blue Dog Rescue and he won over everyone he met. He is the Pit Bull poster child!

Vincent.

My baby. We got Vincent and his four littermates when they were two weeks old. Their mom had been hit by a car. Tom and I brought them home and bottle fed them. We almost lost Vincent one night when he went into hypoglycemic shock. I slept with him on my chest all night. Since that point he has been my dog through and through. He is my guardian and protector. Where I go, he goes.

Clishy Marie Shew.

Probably the most energetic dog in our house. She wants to know what is going on at all times! And the best hugger in all the world!

Veruca Jane Shew.

While her sister is the hugger she is the kisser. And she prefers your nose if that's okay with you. Oh, and a beer if you'll share that too!

Monkey Shew.
Sweetest little boy ever - all he wants is a little attention of his own. In this pack you do have to kind of assert yourself to get attention - and he's just not that assertive. So we try to go the extra mile to give him the love and belly rubs he deserves.

The Business Man.

Oh, Ferdabidnee. The dog is even sillier than he looks. We joke that he should really be a cartoon character. His tongue sticks out and he's cross-eyed. He's not particularly nice to strangers and he has a liver shunt. He's a little train wreck but he brings laughter into our lives every single day. I wouldn't trade him for anything!

Horatio.

Our little chug. Another foster who came and just refused to leave. And while I didn't want 11 dogs I wanted life without Horatio even less. Every night it is his job to announce Bed Time. And he does so my garbling bizarre noises and dragging his belly on the floor. And when he does it they all know - "It's bed time!"

Jessica Beatrice.
She was going to be a "quick" adoption. She was NOT supposed to stay. But she wormed her way into Tom's heart by being pitiful and pathetic and only loving him. So there it was. She became number 12!

So that's us in a nut shell. It is crazy but it works. And what am I most proud of? That people come to my house and say "Wow, it doesn't smell like dogs!"