Duck, Duck, Goose, Great Dane?

The world is messed up, and I feel helpless to do anything to make it better. I find myself cursing humans every day. It doesn't help. The reality is that I have a small skill set and can’t do much, but I can drive. Which is why I volunteer to do transport for the California Wildlife Center.

The CWC is a terrific non-profit that handles native California wildlife that have been injured or orphaned. In the spring and fall, there are zillions of wild infants and babies from raptors to baby possums and squirrels crowding their clinic. This time of year, it’s usually injured birds: crows, ducks and geese that need surgery or supportive care.

What I do is pretty basic. I pick up critters in my area from a participating veterinarian or two LA Valley animal shelters and deliver the animals to the CWC with the accompanying paperwork.

Pretty simple. I can handle it.

The vet is home base for Hot Vet. Google him. Trust me, he is. Really hot. Featured in "People Magazine" hot. I never run into him.

Naturally, where I got into trouble is the East Valley Animal Shelter. The pound.

When I started volunteering for CWC I asked the head of the program if they provided a stipend for all the animals I’d adopt because I had to enter a shelter. She laughed assuming I was joking. I wasn’t.

Actually, I blame Facebook for my current problem. (Aren't most issues in 2018 Facebook's fault? I’m talking to you Sheryl Sandberg.)  I follow Facebook page called Southern California Great Dane Rescue. I know. Stupid idea. Mostly I joined because, like the CWC, occasionally animals need to be moved from place to place, and like I said, I can drive. I do the same for the American Brittany Rescue. 

About three weeks ago a female Great Dane came into the East Valley Shelter as a “stray.’ (Turns out the person who ‘found’ her, was her owner. Awful, but not unusual.) The tho bio listed her as six years old, which is not young for a Dane, severely underweight, with some medical problems. Oh, she also wasn't spayed. And, as if she didn't have enough problems,  they were calling her "FeFe."

Obviously she was calling out to me.

She had been haunting me, mostly due to her ill health and her age.  (She’s also black. Black dogs don’t photograph well and are the last to find homes.) Old dogs fair badly at shelters and often die there.

By the way, I love old dogs. I have adopted a bunch of them over the years and they’ve been universally great. They sometimes don’t live for long, but they have a great life while they are with me. I have wonderful memories of every single one.

The smart part of me had been avoiding the shelter like the plague.

It was working until  Friday morning I received a text from the CWC,  a Canada Goose with a broken wing needed to be picked up.  Of course it was at the East Valley Shelter. Uh-oh.

You don’t need to be a genius to know what happened next. I prefer think it was fate, not stupidity. 

Maybe it’s both.

While I waited for the officers to get the goose (I am nuts, but responsible, business first!) I asked about the "FeFe" which by the way, is a poodle name. Not a Great Dane name.

.She was a shelter favorite – all the officers knew and liked her. She had some tumors including an ugly one on her lady parts and was on medical hold. So I needed to speak to the Superevisor.

The Supervisor needed to speak to the medical staff before she could authorize anything, so with the goose in a box and the Supervisor’s cell number in my pocket, I headed out to drop of the goose. When I called the Shelter that afternoon, the Supervisor was driving home from work but was pleased to talk to me. She approved everything, and told me I could pick up FeFe the next day.

I came  at a time a friend who volunteers with the Rescue Train (a GREAT organization that helps people keep their pets. Google and please donate to them!) would be there. because I really can't going into the back of a pound. That was important.

Laurie found a volunteer who was delighted that I’d come for the Dane. Together they walked me to her pen for our meeting. Past rows of sweet looking, terrified dogs.

It felt like a Tinder date . I was nervous. Would she look like her picture? Would I like her? Would she like me?

I shouldn’t have worried. Dogs I get. People not so much.

But like an online date, she was older than advertised. Closer to eight than five, she is a sweet, gentle dog.  She is small, dainty even, for a Dane. Even after being stuffed with food for three weeks, she is severely underweight. Her backbone juts out like a e supermodel. Her once-black muzzle is now a mask of gray.

I had a instant, serious crush.

The officers took her away to vaccinate, chip and do paperwork while I stood in line to fill out my paperwork. It took almost an hour. Which is not a long time when you a completely changing two lives.

She climbed into my SUV with a little help, stretched out and immediately fell asleep. I think she snored a little.

On the way home I changed her name to Fiona, after the only celebrity I stalk: the underweight gray baby hippo in the Cincinnati Zoo.

My Fiona may be old and gray but she’s not done. When we got home she hopped out and met the other dogs politely. Within an hour she and Jasper were chasing each other around the backyard at full speed. Dalai joined in and out of the zoomies. Once Fiona was going so fast she jumped over Dalai so she wouldn't crash into her.


Yes, there is video. https://youtu.be/grESRXAJSC4

Since her arrival, there have been a few squabbles, which I expected, but nothing serious. She has been a champ. After a few complaints, she has claimed her giant crate as her own. 

She mostly respects the random, changeable, rules that Poppy, Dalai and Jasper throw at her.

The morning after she came, I left her locked in her crate when I left to ride. Four hours later, when I came back, all four dogs greeted me at the door; the pack had sprung her from prison.

They are a newly bonded pack. I may be in trouble.

I don’t know how long we will be together. There are never any guarantees in life. But I love her about and she seems delighted to be here.

I can't do much to fix the world. But I did do this.

“Saving one animal will not change the world, but for that animal, it changes everything.”