Last year, my partner and I fostered 31 HSNB dogs, all of whom eventually found homes directly, through Muttville, or via other rescue partners. While proud of that number, we try to maintain a “reasonable” permanent pack of two in our home—both rescues with special needs stemming from anxiety and trauma to blindness.
My routine as an HSNB Board member shifted when I received a call to pick up a dog recovering from surgery. Sight unseen, I learned this senior dog had undergone a procedure so serious that euthanasia had been considered. At least twelve years old, she had roughly thirty foxtails embedded in her cheek—requiring surgical extraction—and thirteen more in her ear. A subsequent dental surgery revealed extensive gum issues and a few deeply lodged foxtails that had been missed. With her mouth sutured twice, a developing cataract, near-total deafness, and severe emaciation, she was in rough shape.
I happened to be dog sitting another post-op, emaciated foster dog for a fellow Board member. Nervously, I crated them together to convalesce, not completely sure if either would even survive. Over the next few days, I cried to my partner because Edna refused to eat. Despite knowing so little about her, I couldn’t bear watching her decline after the Herculean efforts made to save her life. I took her for a follow-up with our shelter veterinarian who prescribed an appetite stimulant that helped.
As I began letting Edna explore the house, this tiny, fragile dog surprised me by navigating the doggie door entirely on her own. Surprisingly nimble, she would venture outside to sunbathe, effortlessly jumping onto the garden furniture cushions. Her textured coat was a magnet for burrs, and though she gently resisted me constantly picking them from between her toes, it was simply that season. My greatest fear was her wandering into overgrown areas of the yard and encountering more harmful plants.
Shortly after gaining free range privileges in the house, she conquered the stairs and claimed the dead center of our king-size bed. She was so diminutive she practically vanished among the pillows, but she instinctively knew where the coziest spot was. Whether it was the bed or a fresh pile of laundry in the closet. She always perched at the very top—a true “Princess and the Pea,” much like my late dog, Capulet.
It became clear that Edna was special; she was perfectly house-trained and had obviously known love before. For such a little girl, she possessed an immense personality and understood exactly how to live in a home. Although her easygoing nature suggests she might have been a stray, she approaches everyone with a wagging tail. The dark fur framing her eyes gives her a compelling, puppy-like innocence that belies her senior years.
Eventually, the day arrived to transfer two of my senior fosters to Muttville. One was a handsome, eight-year-old redhead who barely met the senior age requirement. He was incredibly well-behaved, surrendered only because his guardian had suffered a severe stroke and moved into an assisted living facility that didn’t allow pets. He was adopted immediately, but I found myself questioning if I could bear to let my gorgeous Edna go, too.
Knowing she would be scooped up instantly, I realized transferring her to another home would break my heart. Every time she confidently curled into my arms or tucked herself into our bed for the night, I knew I couldn’t sever our connection.
Aware of the significant financial investment the shelter made in her recovery, I intend to contribute far more than the standard adoption fee for Edna. I want the shelter to recoup every penny spent on this sweet old girl, including the cost of the surgeries. They took a chance and saved her life, just as they do for countless other medically fragile dogs and cats. Therefore, I am launching a donation match campaign to cover the entirety of Edna’s expenses.
I hope the public will look at her precious face and understand the vital importance of our daily mission: keeping as many shelter animals alive as possible. We rarely receive young, healthy animals at our door, but every single life is worth fighting for. I am committed to giving Edna the absolute best golden years in my home. The unconditional love I receive from her, and all my pets, immeasurably extends and enriches my own life. I am deeply grateful to devote a large part of my life to our region’s animals, and thankful for the incredible neighbors who help keep the doors of our local no-kill shelter open.
