I have a giant scratch on my arm and a bruised rib. The performance fabric on my sofa has gone from pristine to… performative. My Green Machine hasn’t been unplugged in two weeks.
Welcome to the wild, wonderful world of fostering a one-year-old puppy.
Jackie came to us from a shelter here in LA, where she’d been living for about six weeks. Her original adopters — who got her from that same shelter — had surrendered her for reasons unknown. She was past her euthanasia deadline and scheduled to be killed if no one stepped in.
That’s when the rescue I Stand With My Pack got involved and put out an urgent call for fosters. My husband Brendan and I made a quick decision to say yes.
Jackie (who we’ve nicknamed Tizzy because she’s always in one) is a happy, hyperactive ball of joy. We think she’s part Pitbull, thanks to her stocky build, and part Weimaraner, based on her shiny gray coat and unhinged Furby eyes. She snores like a piglet when she’s asleep, but also when she’s awake if you’ve relaxed her with a head massage.
She drinks water like a hippo in a dunk tank, knocks all her kibble onto the floor and eats it from there, and likes to nap perched on top of the sofa’s backrest like a gargoyle neck pillow. She’s the belle of the ball at every dog park we’ve been to and has formed a one-sided best friendship with our own dog, Tux.
Why am I sharing all of this with you? Because fostering often feels like a circus — but it also feels like the best thing in the world and I really, really hope you try it.
You’ll think of every reason not to: your home is too small, your furniture’s too nice, you’ve got a wedding coming up, you’ve never even had a dog. And all of that is valid. But so is the life you’ll save.
Sarah McLachlan, is that you?
Any soft landing you can offer — even if it’s imperfect or short — is better than a loud, crowded, deeply depressing shelter where dogs wait too long for help that might never come.
Here’s a few things to know if you’re thinking about fostering:
Rescue orgs are stretched thin. They’re working overtime to pull dogs from shelters, coordinate foster placements, deal with surprise medical emergencies, raise money, answer DMs, and post on Instagram — all at once. Give them grace!
A good rescue wants the right fit. Don’t be discouraged if your foster application isn’t accepted right away. Sometimes they’re looking for someone with a yard, someone home during the day, someone who can quarantine a sick dog, or someone with experience with a certain breed. It’s not personal — just keep trying.
Yes, you’ll get attached. Everyone will tell you to keep them, and maybe you will! But just remember that every dog you help get adopted opens your home up for the next one.
Fostering is critical, but it’s not the only way to help. Rescues rely on donations for everything, and one surprise expense — like a surgery — can be a major financial setback. Donate, donate, donate. And check if your local shelters accept supplies. You could be the reason a dog gets a real bed, better food, or their very first toy.
So what’s next for our sweet piglet-Furby-gargoyle Jackie? She’s still looking for her forever home. After two weeks with us (during which I seriously considered adopting her daily), she’s heading to an incredible long-term foster mom who’ll help train her and walk her on the beach every day.
If you’re interested in fostering, check out I Stand With My Pack in LA or your local rescue. My DMs are open for all questions — including the best stain removers (spoiler: it’s this one).
Thanks for reading The Gift of Gab, a newsletter from the desk of Max — a brand marketer in LA who loves niche pop culture references, research rabbit holes, and a well-styled anything. If you enjoyed this post, tap the heart so others can find it, and subscribe to keep gabbing.